The Silver Blade by Sally Gardner Read Free Book Online

roads with debris, so for safety’s sake they went by untrodden paths beside furrowed fields and stagnant streams, through empty forests, the horses’ hooves sounding like a drumbeat as they galloped over the moor where the sky was vaster than the land.

    Yann stood in his stirrups and breathed in, feeling at one with his horse, relishing life.

    I have seen too much of death. I have seen too many good men defeated at the guillotine. And what has been gained by such senseless waste? If the tree of liberty grows out of bloodshed what rotten fruit will it bear?

    Sido is like me, he thought. Why have I doubted her? She is my strength, not my weakness. She is my desire. We are bound by the golden threads of light.

    Ahead lay a dense wall of fog. It rolled in off the sea, taking with it all the surrounding scenery, swallowing up the horizon. Hidden somewhere in its folds was the faint sound of waves rushing in on the pebbled shore. ‘This is as far as we go,’ said Yann.

    The Duke looked worried as he dismounted. Holding Louis tight, he shouted, ‘There’s no way down the cliff here. It’s an almost sheer rock face.’

    Yann took no notice of him. He gathered the reins and walked the horses a little way off.

    ‘I tell you …’ The Duke stopped what he was saying. He was watching Yann whispering to the horses before letting them go. ‘I thought gypsies were the only people on God’s earth who could talk to their animals like that.’

    ‘So I’ve been told,’ said Yann.

    He went over to Didier. ‘I think we might find a reception party waiting for us down there.’

    Didier took out his pistol. Yann nodded. ‘We’d better hope the boatman hasn’t left.’ He looked back at the Duke. ‘Are you ready?’

    Yann went first, edging his way along a narrow path at the top of the cliff, and then dropping into a crevice. There, hacked out of the rock, well hidden from view, was a flight of precarious stone steps leading to the pebble beach.

    ‘It was a smugglers’ cove, I believe,’ said Didier. ‘Still is, more than likely.’

    They could hear the roar of the sea close by. Out of sight, hidden in the pocket of fog, the tide had begun to turn. It wouldn’t be long before the cove was under water and all hope of rescue gone.

    Suddenly they heard voices.

    ‘Soldiers?’ whispered Didier.

    ‘Yes,’ replied Yann. ‘Half a dozen, I think. No doubt waiting for the butcher, to make sure they’re not swindled out of their money.’

    ‘Where do you think they are?’ asked Didier.

    ‘Hard to tell, but we must find the boatman before he’s forced to leave.’

    They set off along the beach. Even the sound of the foaming waves failed to mask the noise of their feet ringing loud like bells on a Sunday.

    ‘Halt! Who goes there?’ shouted a disembodied voice. ‘It’s Sergeant Berigot. Is that you, Citizen Loup?’

    ‘That’s right,’ growled Yann, as Didier continued down to the sea, relieved to see their boatman rowing with difficulty towards the beach. He waded into the sea to greet the sailor. Holding the prow of the boat, like Gulliver he hauled it towards the shore, as if it were a child’s play-thing, then carefully put Hugo in it. The boy sat quietly. He seemed in a trance.

    ‘Have you got Tull with you?’ shouted the sergeant from the beach.

    Tull, thought Yann, shocked. That old rogue is in on this. He called out, ‘Yes. Where are you?’

    ‘Over here. Where are the goods? Have you got them down on the beach? My men are waiting to help.’

    The Duke, certain he was about to be arrested, pushed past Yann and began wading towards Didier and the boat.

    ‘Tull, where are you?’ Out of the white fog a blue-coated soldier appeared, pistol at the ready. He stared at Yann, amazed. ‘Who the blazes are you?’

    Yann’s answer was to rush at him. The pistol went off. The Duke, turning to see who was firing, lost his footing, and he and Louis disappeared beneath the waves. As Didier let