Read The Gallows Curse for Free Online Page A

so often that they had long since forgotten
who was in whose debt. And that night, a night that for ever haunted both of
them, had bound them together with chains forged from a horror that was
stronger than any affinity of family blood.
        Did
that bastard, Osborn, relive it night after night in his sleep? Raffe knew he
did not. Even when Lord Osborn had issued those orders which other men were
forced to carry out, he had given less thought to them than a boy snapping the
neck of a snared bird. He knew Gerard would have to carry out those commands.
Osborn was Gerard's liege lord and Gerard was bound by the oath of fealty to
serve him. To refuse to obey his command on the field of battle was
unthinkable. Any man who did as much would be branded a coward and a traitor.
        That
night, after it was all over, Raffe had watched Osborn with his younger
brother, Hugh, tossing down a flagon of sweet cypress wine, already planning
the next day's sport, and it was plain he had already forgotten the whole
incident. But then it is easy to forget if you only have to say the words and
don't have to look into terrified faces or hear the screams echoing again and
again through all the long dark nights.
        Raffe
grasped his friend's icy hand so tightly that he could feel the bones grate under
the skin. Gerard's eyelids briefly fluttered in protest against the pain.
Gerard's hand still wore his father's ring, a heavy gold band with an intricate
knot of gold filigree that held in place a single lustrous pearl. It was
Gerard's most precious possession. Still kneeling at his bedside, Raffe bent
his head and kissed the ring.
        'I
swear on your father's ring and by all the saints in heaven. I swear upon my
immortal soul, Gerard, I will not let you carry that evil to your grave. I will
not let it drag you down to hell.'
        Gerard
lifted his head and stared unblinkingly into Raffe's dark eyes as if he was
trying to impale Raffe upon that oath.
        Though
Raffe had never flinched from any man's gaze in his life, he shuddered,
suddenly terrified of the words which had fallen from his mouth.
        Gerard
drew in one last rasping breath which caught in his throat. Then Raffe felt his
hand fall limp. He didn't have to hold a feather to Gerard's lips to know that
his life was over.
        Raffe
looked down again at the corpse of his friend and master lying on the table. He
reached out a hand and smoothed the ruffled hair.
        'I
have kept my word, Gerard. You will go to your grave now as guiltless as if you
had been shrived by the Pope himself. I have done as I swore to do.'
        He
was turning away to fetch a cloth to cover the body when he felt his sleeve
grasped tightly. Anne was standing beside him, staring up at him, her bloodshot
eyes searching his.
        'What
have we done, Raffaele? What terrible burden have we forced that poor child,
Elena, to carry? I insist you tell me what my son did. I have a right to know.'
        Raffe
looked down at Anne. Her body seemed to have shrunk over the past few days,
shrivelled into itself as if it was withdrawing from the world. This woman
who'd fought to keep the manor intact for her son, who'd faced every new
disaster and threat with her eyes flashing defiance and a sword-sharp mind, had
not been able to stand against her son's death. How could he tell her now what
she demanded to know? It would destroy her. If she knew the truth of it, she
too would bear that burden to her grave. Knowledge of sin devours the soul as
voraciously as the sin itself. He couldn't bear to see her love and respect for
Gerard shaken for even an instant. She must go on believing that he was a good
and honourable man, as in truth he was and would now remain so for ever.
        Raffe
turned his face away and felt the grasp on his arm slacken. Anne had known him
long enough to realize that there were some things not even she could command.
        She
gently lifted her son's cold limp