The Widow and the King by John Dickinson Read Free Book Online

out of the room and banged the door behind him. He hurried across the throne-court to the archway. Here his way was blocked by the hurdles that kept the goats from straying inwards during the night. He dragged them aside, passed through and replaced them firmly, as if he could wall his mother in with them. Then he strode, furious, into the outer yard.
    Running out on her was happening quite often now. She kept saying that he was twelve and should be able to do more, and he kept thinking that he wasn't going to put up with it. And yes, it usually cost him his supper, but at this time of year he could wander the hillside while the light lasted and find berries to fill himself up a little. The trouble was that it never got him out of doing what he didn't want to do. Later that day, or maybe the next, he would have to get down to it – or miss another supper. So she always won.
    She wasn't going to this time, if he could help it. This time he was going to do something – something so bad she'd think twice before ordering him around again.
    The goats, which he had brought in from the hillside an hour before, were gathered in a small flock against the low wall. They lifted their heads and looked at him with their misshapen eyes.
    He thought of opening the outer gate and driving them all out onto the hillside again.
    But that would be stupid. Either he'd have to go andget them all back later or, if he didn't, they might both starve that winter. No use.
    He wanted to break something – a door, maybe. Or perhaps start a fire.
    Start a fire? The tinder was back with her in the kitchen. He wasn't going back there.
    No use, again.
    He thought of going to the Heron Man.
    He could do it. She would be furious, but he could do it any time he liked.
    He thought about it again. The Heron Man, and his Things. He never saw them. But sometimes he thought he could feel that they were up there. They were up there all the time, day and night, like a cloud hanging beyond the ridge.
    Never approach him, never speak with him.
    Ambrose shuddered.
    No use again, he thought.
    But why not? The Heron Man couldn't get out. It ought to be safe. Ambrose could go up there whenever he wanted – whenever she upset him. He could talk to him as much as he wanted, from behind the ring of stones. And it was a man up there – a man like Uncle Adam, away at Chatterfall. Not someone like Mother. Maybe he was someone Ambrose could really talk to.
    What was it like, to be as old as all the stories – three hundred years or more?
    Never speak with him.
    No father! Nothing! It just wasn't fair!
    ‘It's only
you
that says he's evil!' he said aloud.
    She was not there to hear him, so he could say it. Hemight say other things, too. It was only
she
who had said that his father was wicked! It was only
she
who had said that his father had wanted to kill him! Why
didn't
she want him to talk to the man by the pool?
What
was it she was afraid he would say?
    It wouldn't matter, so long as he stayed back from the stones. Nothing could reach him from inside the ring. He could talk, or taunt if he wanted to. She had done, the last time. Why couldn't he?
    And if the Things appeared he'd just – just throw stones at them!
    At once he turned and walked briskly towards the outer gate.
    The goats crowded in under the archway after him, as they did whenever he took them to pasture. The gatetunnel echoed with the sounds of their hooves, magnified to a great cavalcade. He pulled one leaf of the door inwards, meaning to step through and shut it quickly behind him. Then he stopped. The goats stopped, too.
    There was a man on the path outside.
    He was a complete stranger, who had stopped dead in the act of reaching for the door. He wasn't a hillman. He was taller than they were – about as tall as Mother. He had long brown hair, a brown and stained cloak, and heavy, dusty leather boots. And his cheeks and chin were concealed in a thick mat of brown beard, which looked very strange to