John Rackham Read Online Free

man is this that you bring into our home, Jack? He is none of this
world, that's plain, nor is that infernal device that follows his step. Oh,
Jack I What have you brought on us now?"
    Jack
snorted, thought of pointed words but swallowed them. It was in no way new to
hear his mother so free to blame all her misfortunes on the actions of anyone
to hand. That was only her way, and he knew it meant nothing, but it served
now to make him feel fiercely protective toward the brave little man who
came steadily on, though weaving and obviously near the end of his strength. He
disengaged her fingers firmly and ran, leaped the low fence again, and went up
the slope to meet his guest
    "Lean on my arm,
Jasar. It is not very far now."
    "It's
in my guts somewhere, Jack. Churned up. What with the
fall, and this cursed gravity of yours...."
    "Can
you tell me what kind of brew or potion you'U need to mend you? I've said , my mother has the art of such things."
    "Just
rest will do it." Jasar laid a corded arm on Jack's palm and was able to
manage a chuckle. "I carry my own medicine kit. In my
ship. And I have food there too. I won't strain your slender resources
for that. But what I need most and first, is to drink, and then to lie down, to
get horizontal, to give my system a chance to right itself." He leaned
heavily on Jack to get himself over the fence and then put up his free hand in
what was obviously a salute.
    "I ask your forebearance and
understanding, Widow Fairfax, for imposing myself on you in this cavalier manner.
I hope to be permitted to explain, in a short while. For now, I beg you, I need somewhere to lie down in safety."
    Widow Fairfax forgot her suspicions enough to
lend an arm, and between them they got Jasar to the cot-bed in the inglenook
farthest away from her spinning wheel. That was Jack's bed, the other ingle was
her own as often as not. She retreated to it now, as if regretting what she had
done, but her son was more concerned with practical matters. He thumped a
goosefeather pillow, set it in place.
    "You'll do better without your helmet,
Sir Jasar."
    "No
doubt, but if I take it off I won't be able to talk to you or to understand
what you say in return. Still, for a brief while it can't hurt." He undid
the chin-strap, tugged off the helmet to reveal tight close-curled hair on a
rounded skull. He gave the helmet into Jack's hand—it was surprisingly
light—stretched himself out, head on the pillow, and was almost instantly
still, like a dead man, barely breathing. Jack crossed the
fireplace to where his mother sat.
    "I
think," he said softly, "that Jasar knows full well how to mend his
own hurt And much more. I think he is some kind of
wizard. Not the goblins and creepies that nobody with any sense believes
anyway, but a real wizard. I saw with my own eyes how he
came down from the sky." In the best words he could find he recounted that
impossible moment, and what had followed, striving to overcome the doubt on her
face.
    "If
it be true," she said at last, "what you have told me, and no dream
that you had under the oak, then maybe it had been better if you had slain him.
Let me not be thought cruel, but for sure he is not of this land. Whoever saw
one so dark, and so small I And if not of our land, then
is he enemy, what else?"
    "But,"
Jack disagreed doggedly, "again and again he says he means no harm, that
he rights other enemies that we know nothing of."
    "That
may well be, but what is of concern to us is this, my son. This is Dudley's
land, and we keep it. How will it sit with them when they leam we harbor a stranger of his aspect?"
    "How can they learn, Mother? It is a long ten miles to Dudley, and when does any of the village come this
far, save to seek to poach the deer? And it is not the season for that. And
anyway, Earl Dudley is the one to fear, and he is overseas these past two
months." Jack took a step or two back and aside and peered a moment. "He rests still. It would be a kindly gesture, Mother,
should