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Show Page 108 my arm behind my back. Searing pain raced upward to my shoulder. "He'll not be telling you anything. Will you boy?" Rose asked. "And you'll not be asking." She gave my arm another twist upward. Through a smudge of tears I saw Twig standing before me, his hands in his mouth, his thin body hopping up and down, his throat spurting out little chirps of anguish. He shook his head, a series of short, side-to-side jerks, as though he had taken a twitch. "Run, Twig," I gasped. "Get help." He fled. "Help will do you no good. It's your word 'gainst mine. One lady 'gainst another so to speak." Rose ruckled deep in her throat. "There's Twig also," I whimpered. "No one will believe a beggar brat." I sobbed, then drew in my breath-and smashed my free elbow backward into Rose's ribs. She grunted, then promptly sat down upon the ground behind me. But by the time Twig came scrambling back, Richard close behind him, she had reclaimed her breath and regained her feet. "Why have I been summoned?" Richard asked, stepping carefully round a rotted stump. "She was striking the boy," I explained. "What say you to this?" he asked Rose. |