A Crowning Glory by Bernard Cornwell by Noname

Author:Noname [Ismeretlen]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Tags: antique

He seemed to be on fire, such was the pain, and the echo of the ringing blade rose to a screeching pitch in his ears. His sword fell. The pain was slamming back and forth and the pikes were coming over him. He fell. James Wright tried to pick him up, to pull him backwards, but the Roundheads were charging now and the huge man went back before the pikes, seeking safety in the warren of rooms in the Old House.

Toby moaned, rolled over, tried to rise, but a sword blade slashed light in the early dawn, came down, and there was a terrible pain in his left hand. He screamed, fell back and the boots of the enemy went over his unconscious body. Lazen Castle had fallen, as so many houses fell, to treachery.

—«»—«»—«»—

'Be brave!' Lady Margaret ordered the group of women in the gallery. 'Be brave!' She put the musketoon on the table beside her, but Campion could see it was not loaded.

Muskets sounded in the gardens below. Enid screamed, making Lady Margaret turn furiously round. 'Be quiet!'

The shouts of the victors echoed through the castle. The slaughter was nearly over. The garrison was being taken prisoner, stripped of its valuables and herded towards the stable-yard where the two traitors greeted their rescuers warmly. One man, from Captain Tugwell's company, tore off his leather jacket and tried to swim the moat. Campion, standing at a window of the long gallery, saw the Roundheads run to the bank. They pulled pistols from their belts and used the bobbing head for target practice. A red stain appeared on the grey water. Others of the enemy were pushing into the church. She knew they would tear out the altar rails, thinking them Popish, and then wrestle the great, heavy altar into the centre of the church. Once that was done and the decorations had been destroyed or defaced, it would be thought to be a house worthy of God.

'Campion! You will stand by me!' Lady Margaret beckoned peremptorily. 'Enid! Be quiet! I do not wish to tell your mother that you were weak. Stand there, Campion.' Caroline, still in a night-gown over which she had put a cloak, stood on her mother's right, Campion to Lady Margaret's left. Lady Margaret put an arm about Campion's shoulder. 'They won't touch you, child. I shall see to that. The name of Lazender will carry some weight, even with these scum.'

More shouts, closer now, and another rattle of musketry. Dogs barked in the castle. Men laughed. There was a scream from the kitchens. The smoke of the explosion smelt acrid in the long gallery. In the Old House the victors tore down curtains, ripped bed linen, fired muskets into furniture and pictures.

Campion was terrified, yet she dared not show it. She wondered, grasping for any straw, if Ebenezer would be kind. He was, after all, her brother.

Mildred, hair standing on her back, erupted through the door of the long gallery and ran straight to Campion.

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