The Good Death by S. D. Sykes

Author:S. D. Sykes [Sykes, S. D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pegasus Books
Published: 2021-09-07T00:00:00+00:00

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I packed my spare braies, tunics and winter boots into a hessian sack and joined William in the courtyard. I mounted my horse, said my farewells and I rode for Somershill with my brother William at my side. For many months now I had longed to escape the dismal walls of Kintham Abbey. To be freed of the relentless routines, the petty rivalries, the plain food and the hard beds. But now I wanted nothing more than to stay.

Chapter Nineteen

William and I rode in silence, following a couple of cursory conversations about the heat of the day and the comfort of our saddles. I hadn’t wanted to talk to my brother, but equally I didn’t find this lack of conversation comforting. I knew that I would soon need to tell William the truth about Agnes, especially now that Peter was about to apprehend her attacker. It couldn’t wait much longer. A number of times I cleared my throat, ready to make my confession, only to find that my nerve deserted me at the last moment. I couldn’t predict how William would react to such a story. Although we were both men now, and I was taller than my older brother, I still felt petrified of this solid, muscular man. It was just as if I were a child again and he were my much older brother.

And so we continued in silence, plodding along the narrow paths of the forest, with William leading the way. Since we were riding in single file, I couldn’t help but focus on the back of my brother’s head, finding my eyes continually drawn to the way in which William’s hair curled at the nape of his neck. I’m sorry to say that it prompted a particularly vivid and unpleasant memory – one which I hadn’t thought about for years, but which I now struggled to dismiss.

I had been seven and William had been maybe nineteen or twenty, and I was in trouble for accidentally releasing his favourite hound – a dog named Whitefoot. I’d known it was wrong when I untied his tether, but the poor creature had looked so miserable, secured against a post in the courtyard without any food or shelter. I remember thinking that Whitefoot could do with a run around the lawns. Of course, I hadn’t expected the dog to run off and never return. When William found out that I was responsible for Whitefoot’s disappearance, he had wanted to beat me, except that Mother had stepped in to prevent this from happening.

Not that I went without punishment, of course. The next day I came into the courtyard to find that William was dangling my favourite toy above the well and threatening to let go. It was just a hollow thing, made from thinly cast pewter – a small knight mounted on a horse – but I had treasured this toy dearly since Father had made a show of presenting him to me in front of the family, after returning from a trip to London.

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