The Rogue Knight Read Online Free

more dogs?” she asked sullenly.
    “No, quite the opposite, in fact,” Cord said. “I’m here to take away the boarhounds lodged in your house.”
    Maude glanced at the others. The man who had been on his knees stood up. The others shuffled in front of the hole where the truffles lay buried.
    “If someone’s at your home then I can take the dogs away,” Cord said.
    “Those boarhounds ate three of our chickens,” Maude complained.
    “Er... yes,” Cord said. “That was unfortunate. I suppose that’s why the steward said to take the hounds three days early.”
    “Three days,” she said. “It should be worth a week!”
    Cord managed a shrug, understanding her plight but unwilling to speak against the baron or his hounds.
    “Are you taking the pack to Tiny?” she asked with sudden glee.
    Cord nodded.
    She laughed, spittle dribbling down her chin. “He’ll knock your block off, dog boy. Tiny hates felons and their brats.”
    Cord stiffened, his face going blank. He knew they gauged his reaction to the insult. He shrugged again, but with more studied indifference.
    “I don’t care what Tiny hates. He’ll do the baron’s will. Now, if you’ve gotten your share of truffles, why not send someone home so they can be there when I am.”
    Old Maude peered up into his face. “You ain’t taking the truffles?”
    “You work hard enough,” he said. “I don’t see why you shouldn’t be allowed what treats you can find.”
    “Well spoken,” the peasant with the dirty knees said, Lame Jack by name.
    “And fair,” said Old Maude, as if surprised.
    The others nodded.
    Cord turned and strode away before they said something that might embarrass him. The two mastiffs followed.
    After twenty long strides, a piercing scream made Cord twist around in surprise. The peasants bolted from the hole. Lame Jack was the only one who hadn’t run. He held his ground, with a hoe raised high as if it were an axe. He shouted angrily.
    The high-pitched scream came again, from Maude. “My granddaughter!” she shrieked. “He’ll kill my granddaughter!”
    Cord’s eyes narrowed. Then he saw a monstrous creature trot out of the forest’s shadows. Its brown and white mane bristled and long tusks gleamed.  Small eyes darted back and forth as it grunted. The beast was Old Sloat. By his huge size and bulk Cord guessed him to be something over eight hundred pounds in weight. He was the largest wild boar Cord had ever seen. Almost as bad, he saw the rutting shields. Before rutting season, wild boars grew tough, triangular-shaped skin plates on their sides. It protected them from the lateral slashes of other boars during rutting fights. Old Sloat’s shields seemed to be coated with resin, giving it an extra thickness. No doubt, he’d achieved that by rubbing himself against trees. It would be impossible to cut through the shields with a knife. Even with a boar spear, the shields would be hard to penetrate.
    To the dog boy’s surprise, he saw something majestic in the pig’s arrogant pace. That frightened Cord even more for it was always easier to fear what you respect. Yet it couldn’t be possible that Sloat was majestic. Cord had heard that a devil lived in Old Sloat. Father Bernard had agreed it might be so. Christ had once driven devils out of a man, and those same devils had then inhabited a herd of pigs. Who but a devil could drive a boar to slay a forester?
    In a mixture of awe and fear, Cord watched Old Sloat. The monster went directly to the truffle-hole, ignoring the frozen little girl and the others shrieking from a safer distance away.
    “Somebody save my granddaughter!” Maude screamed.
    Lame Jack hobbled toward the frozen child. No one else dared close with the snorting monster that pushed his snout into the truffle-hole.
    Coming out of his surprised and frightened daze, Cord roared orders at the mastiffs and drew his knife. Sunlight gleamed off the polished blade. Just holding the eighteen inches of killing steel