Smyth was concentrating solely on the dull pain of his strained muscles, and wondering how much farther he must go. Sitting once more in the sun outside Simon’s house at…Ĭlambering up the long, shallow gradient to the mass of rock at the summit, the last thing on Thomas Smyth’s mind was the man who was shortly to die. Henway, the small vill where Wat Meavy lived, lay some…īy the time they trotted into Smyth’s yard, Hugh was…īack at Beauscyr, Simon and Baldwin sat on chairs close… The fighting had spread to cover almost a square mile,… They sat on the bench outside a cottage and sipped… George Harang watched the men approaching with a feeling akin… The clamorous tolling of the chapel bell brought Simon to… Hugh and Edgar had been waiting at their favorite place…

Simon and the others arrived back at Beauscyr just as… On their way to the Fighting Cock they rode past…Ĭlimbing on to his horse, Simon took up the reins… “Myths and superstitions!” Baldwin muttered frustratedly as the four left… Supper that evening was a dismal affair, though John Beauscyr… Ronald Taverner was lying on a palliasse below the hall,…

The inn was a pleasant surprise when it came into…

Simon groaned as he hauled himself upward from the bench… Sir Ralph of Warton rode back slowly, his mind on… “How long have you known your master, George?” Simon’s voice… The knight had finished his study of the ground and…Īfter receiving directions, they left early the next morning to… It had been dark for almost an hour when Matillida… With the troubles caused by outlaws, Sir Ralph had decided… Who first suggested I should be a writer.Ĭlambering up the long, shallow gradient to the mass of…Īt the top of the steps, they found themselves in…

A moorland hanging michael jecks