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eBook Category: Historical Fiction/Romance
eBook Description: In the wasteland of thirteenth century Wirral, Wallasey, the old Island of Strangers, was a forgotten corner of a struggling kingdom. Some liked it that way. Safe, out of reach of the King's law. A tough-minded man like Sir Guy of Barndon could run his affairs in any way he chose. If he believed that power was the only law, there was no one to make an effective argument against the proposition. Certainly, it was unlikely that a wandering scribe, who answered to the name of Edward, son of Siward, would be able to refuse to help in the latest of Sir Guy's schemes. But Edward was not what he seemed...

eBook Publisher: Golden Apple, Wallasey, Published: UK, 1979
Fictionwise Release Date: October 2004

7 Reader Ratings:

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Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: eReader (PDB) [168 KB] , ePub (EPUB) [187 KB] , Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [142 KB] , Portable Document Format (PDF) [886 KB] , Palm Doc (PDB) [161 KB] , Microsoft Reader (LIT) [346 KB] , Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [195 KB] , hiebook (KML) [370 KB] , Sony Reader (LRF) [211 KB] , iSilo (PDB) [132 KB] , Mobipocket (PRC) [164 KB] , Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [203 KB] , OEBFF Format (IMP) [216 KB]
Words: 51719
Reading time: 147-206 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Portable Document Format (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED

The peninsula was famous for its sunsets, and the Manor of Barndon, lying not far from the marshy coastline, was bathed in a rosy glow that softened the harsh outline of its steep-pitched roof and threw streamers of warm red light through its narrow windows. But, looking out at it from the gable end of his solar, Guy of Barndon, all there was of power in the neighbourhood, found little to please him.

Even the mellow illumination could do nothing to turn him into a sympathetic figure and his bailiff and right hand man, Alain, wisely held his peace and waited patiently for more information. The nights were drawing in and it was cool by the open window. He drew his garde-corps more closely round his angular frame and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

Guy of Barndon had shrugged out of his chain mail, which he had worn so long that he hardly noticed its weight, and was still comfortably warm in his quilted aketon. In any event, he had more fat to keep out the chill than his lean steward and there was an inner fire of moral indignation to stoke his personal furnace. Balling a ham-like fist, he thumped the stone sill and asked the question that was grating on his mind.

"Will he never die?"

"No one lives forever, Sir Guy. The leech said today that he could do nothing and I should be ready to call the priest."

"That fool has been wrong before."

"But the boy has not left his bed for over a week. He eats nothing. He cannot endure long."

"He does it to spite us all. A weak, puling idiot. Lord of the Manor of Carnforth! God, it chokes me. I need that land. I need it soon. Now. Not next month or next year. You should know that."

Alain knew it very well. He knew to a penny how things stood at Barndon. But he also knew that some legal technicalities stood in the way of a takeover of the Carnforth lands. He ventured diffidently, "But, Sir Guy, even when your nephew dies, there is still his sister. Margaret will inherit. Your brother had parchments drawn up to give her the right."

Guy of Barndon turned full face to his steward, dark eyes sunk in fat, cheeks more ruddy than usual in the pink light. "A girl! A minor! Legally my ward! Talk sense. Would to God she could marry Raulf. That would make it neat."

"But your son is a first cousin. It is a prohibited degree of kinship."

"I know that! To set that aside would be a long and costly business. If it could be done. There has to be some other way."

"It is said that the king is to come to Chester. There may be truth in that. There has been talk of trouble on the Marches. If he should come to this corner of the kingdom, his officers will be everywhere. You may be sure they would want to know about every change of title. It could be dangerous. Roger of Carnforth was a king's man and known personally by many at the court."

It was not well received. Guy thumped his window sill again and twisted irritably, as though the fleas in his sweat-stained aketon had joined in his torment. Finally, he growled, "I keep you to look after my affairs. You could find yourself out in the village and God knows how you'd be welcomed there without my arm to protect you. Think of something. You're the scholar. There must be a way out."