Raven Queen Read Free Page B

taken from her shoe, she scratched away the mortar around one of the stones. I watched her, my mind dulled by fear of the black dog. After a week, she begged me to help her as her arms thinned.
    We worked together as soon as the last light had gone. I listened for the roaring dog but he never came and I grew braver. During the days, my father sat against the loosened stone, his body weakening with fever.
    Sarah took her chance one November night when the guards were drunk and snoring. Everybody helped to lift out the stone, but nobody wanted to go with her – not even her parents. We were all too afraid.
    She wriggled through easily, thin enough now.
    “Go with her, Ned!” My father’s whisper was urgent. “Go to your uncle. It is your chance.” I refused.
    He groaned. “It makes no difference whether you are here. There is nothing more you can do for me, except pray. I shall live or die whether you are here or not. Go, Ned. Please! ”
    I did not follow Sarah then. But my father was dead by morning and there was no doubt that he had willed it to force me. We propped up his dead body in front of that stone until I left that night. I stood briefly in the empty street, glancing at the rooftops of Lincoln below. Then I went home long enough only to pick up my father’s crucifix, his rosary, a Bible and a book written by Plato. I ran towards the city walls overlooking the river where I had swum with my friends on sunlit days.
    As I headed south, I kept turning back to glance at the cathedral spire. And on the day I could no longer see it, the bond was broken. Like a child set free from its mother, I quickened my pace.
    One more glance at the silhouetted spire and I set off down the hill.
    Who am I?
    A boy who is falling in love.
    And falling in love with a girl who is – if I am not mistaken from the look in her eyes – as much at the mercy of the world as I am.

 

    My life was organized for me into a strict routine: rise at five, prayers, breakfast, lessons, dinner, music lessons, supper, prayers and bed at nine. To the many visitors who came to the house, my life must have seemed happy. But nothing could quell the fear inside me, not even Ellie’s herbs. I was trapped – and as I struggled like a bird inside my trap, fear consumed me: fear of becoming a woman, fear of my parents, fear of the hunt, fear of marrying.
    There was little time for leisure, except a short daily walk in the deer park and sometimes to the edge of the forest. Ellie would not go any further. “I know it’s silly,” she would say, “but I feel as if the dark side of our nature’s in there, the part that we all fear.”
    “She is afraid of the wolves,” my tutor, Doctor Aylmer, would tease. “ I shall take you, Jane.”
    We went on my last birthday, when I was fourteen, a day of autumn winds and climbing clouds. As we entered the forest, Doctor Aylmer slowed to catch his breath and I walked on, drawn by the beauty of the trees. They huddled close above me, trapping me in a loneliness so deep that I was afraid.
    Where was I?
    I closed my eyes, but the forest noises still made my heart thud: branches creaking, leaves rustling, birds calling. I forced myself to peep through half-closed eyes. A light filled the forest, soft and shimmering and I looked up, searching for the source, but the sun was not shining. And when I put out my hand, it had no warmth.
    Then just as quickly, the light dimmed. But my heart had filled with joy.
    I found my way back to Doctor Aylmer easily. “I have seen God,” I blurted out, afraid that he would laugh. “I have always believed in Him, but as a child who believes in magic and mystery. Now I truly believe.”
    He lifted my right hand and kissed it. “We each have to find the light in our own way,” he said.
    I often went to the forest after that day. And although I never saw the light again, I always felt God there, strong and protecting.
    The schoolroom is on the first floor of the right tower,