Roland's Castle Read Online Free Page A

down here
and
    steal my horse…”
    Roland did not need to think about
it. The choice between stealing someone’s horse or helping them was
a natural one to him. He leapt down and offered his hand to help. A
hand that belonged to the face appeared from the muddy slime and
Roland pulled the face, and the rest of its owner, out.
    “Thank you,” said the face, which
Roland could now see belonged to a boy about his own age.
    “I am Roland,” Roland said.
    “Oliver. Again, thank you.”
    “You’re welcome,” Roland said. “Are
you from around this area?”
    “I live in the village.”
    “I live up there.” Roland said, and
he pointed at the castle.
    “Ah,” said Oliver, “Are you a
kitchen boy? You don’t seem to be dressed like one – they must pay
well up there!”
    “Sometimes I wish I was – they have
more freedom than I do.”
    “What do you do then?”
    “Not a lot. Learn stuff, get beaten
up by my rotten cousins. My dad went away on a quest – he’s a
knight.”
    “Crikey!” Oliver said. “You’re the
lord of manors son!” and he bowed. “I am sorry sire, I didn’t
realise. I didn’t think that someone like you would rescue a humble
villager like me… Thank you my lord…”
    “Oh cut it out!” Roland said. “I
hate all that stuff.”
    “Seriously?” Oliver asked.
    “Call me Roland. Call me sire again
and I’ll scrag you!”
    “Alright, sire,” Oliver said
jokingly.
    Roland playfully put his arm around
Oliver’s neck and wrestled him to ground.
    “Okay! Okay! I give in!” said
Oliver, laughing. “You’re Roland! Never sire again! I promise!”
    “I should think so too. Now, what
about your horse?” Roland asked.
    Well, its not mine actually – it’s
my dad’s. I’m not very good at riding it – that’s why I fell
off.”
    “May I have a go?”
    “Feel free. You pulled me out of
the ditch. It’s the least I can do.”
    Roland felt a burst of excitement
as he remounted. He gripped the reins and gave the horse a nudge
with his knees. It started quickly, so much so that he was almost
thrown backwards, but he got his balance and took it for a short
canter down the path and back again.
    “You’re a natural!” Oliver said.
“Wish I was. I’ve just been trying to balance on it for a month of
Sundays and can’t even do that without getting queasy.”
    “There’s nothing to it,” said
Roland.
    “Says you! It’s easy when you
can!”
    Roland dismounted and Oliver tried
again with his help, holding on to the reins and leading. Roland
could see that Oliver was definitely not a natural, and was not
even comfortable on a horse. Yet there was hope, and Oliver clearly
had the determination to improve.
    “Practise,” said Roland. “Practise!
You will get it.”
    “Thanks for the encouragement, but
I’m not so sure…”
    “Nonsense!”
    “Next time I’ll bring two horses,
then we can both ride together – or you can ride and I can
try!”
    “Next time? Sounds good! When?”
    “Tomorrow. Same time?”
    The arrangement was made, and then
for the day after, and for those following. Slowly Oliver got
better at riding – not a great deal, but somewhat - and during the
course of it the boys became friends. Tonight would just be the
latest of many days and nights that they had spent together, riding
the district, looking for adventure along the narrow winding lanes,
in the woods and fields.
    Oliver quickly dressed and squeezed
out of the window, dropping onto the cobbles.
    “So what’s up?” he asked.
    “Same old, same old,” Roland said.
“Uncle Dagarth is off his trolley, as usual, the twins are their
normal dreadfulness, Auntie dearest is on my case as ever…
Oh, and an entirely new development; Firebrace tried to kill
me…”
    Oliver gaped at that last one. “He what ?”
    “Tried to kill me. Threw a sword at
me, waved it at me and other generally unsafe sorts of
behaviour.”
    “I always thought he was one of the
more balanced people up there – quite