The Sword Brothers Read Online Free Page B

premises and knew that they were
being chased.
    ‘Don’t look back,’ he
told his sister as he increased his speed and tightened the grip on
Marie’s arm.
    They darted into an
alleyway and ran along its deserted course, the cool earth beneath
their bare feet. Occasionally they would step into something
unpleasant but the fear of being caught by their pursuers blotted
all other thoughts out of their minds. They entered the adjacent
street and Conrad saw glimpses of light from windows and heard
laughter coming from inside homes. On they went, not daring to look
back at those who were chasing them. Marie had stopped crying now,
the only sound Conrad heard being her heavy breathing as she
struggled to keep up with him.
    It seemed like hours
but was probably a few minutes when they ran into the square that
fronted the city’s magnificent cathedral, its two spires dwarfing
the two youngsters as they headed for the building’s twin doors.
The cobbles beneath Conrad’s feet felt hard and cold as he pulled
his sister towards the entrance to God’s house. Here they would
find sanctuary from their pursuers. Conrad could see the large
wooden doors ahead as he increased his pace and then tripped over
as Marie stumbled.
    His sister squealed as
she sprawled onto the cobbles and Conrad grazed his knee as he
fell. He tried to get up but was kicked back down by one of the men
who had been pursuing them.
    ‘You are coming with
us, you little bastards.’
    The other man grabbed
his hair and yanked him up, then twisted his arm behind his back as
the other fellow pulled his sister to her feet. Marie began to sob
uncontrollably as the man holding Conrad’s arm pushed the youth
away from the cathedral entrance.
    ‘What is going on
here?’
    Conrad felt the grip
on his arm loosen slightly and he turned his head to see two
individuals a few feet away, both of them wearing white sleeveless
surcoats bearing a motif of a red cross above a red sword, the
white cloaks around their shoulders carrying the same symbol.
Conrad also saw that their arms and legs were encased in chainmail
and they wore mail coifs on their heads. Both men had neatly
trimmed beards and moustaches.
    ‘Nothing to do with
you,’ spat the brute holding Conrad.
    ‘Everything that
happens within sight of the house of God concerns me,’ replied one
of the white-clad men. Conrad estimated his height to be around six
feet.
    ‘Be on your way,’
sneered the man holding Marie, who was still sobbing.
    ‘Did you hear that,
Henke?’ said the mailed man again, ‘we are to be on our way.’
    The man called Henke
was shorter than the one who was speaking, but only marginally. But
he was certainly more broad shouldered and powerful in appearance.
He now stepped forward and held out his hand to the man who was
restraining Conrad.
    ‘My apologies,
brother. Will you take my hand by way of atonement?’
    The man twisted
Conrad’s arm once again, causing the youth to wince, and then
extended his hand to Henke, who smiled, took it and then
head-butted him, splintering his nose. He groaned and collapsed to
the ground, releasing Conrad. The other man released Marie and went
for the dagger tucked into his belt, but before he could reach it
Henke’s companion drew the sword that was hanging from his belt and
had the point against his neck.
    ‘Pull that dagger and
I will spill your blood on these cobbles.’
    Henke walked forward
and kicked the prostrate man hard under the chin, sending him
sprawling.
    ‘I suggest you depart
immediately,’ said Henke’s companion, ‘lest Henke becomes
angry.’
    The man with the sword
at his throat raised his arms in a sign of submission and backed
away slowly, hauling his bloodied companion to his feet as he did
so. They slowly ambled away as Henke watched them impassively, arms
folded across his broad chest. His friend sheathed his sword and
made the sign of the cross.
    ‘Go with God,
brothers.’
    Conrad, his face and
nightshirt covered with