The Knowledge Stone

by Jack McGinnigle

  ‘Miss, I am deeply sorry, I thought you would not mind. Please forgive me.’ The boy’s face crumpled into tears.

  ‘I will not forgive you. I will make you sorry, you will see.’ With that, Kati turned her back. As she did so, the stable hand appeared with her horse, saddled and ready. Furious, she snatched the reins from him and placed her foot in his cupped hands to be lifted into the saddle. Without another word, she galloped off noisily in a flurry of dust.

  ‘I am done for,’ the boy wailed to the man.

  ‘What has happened? What have you done?’

  ‘I spoke to her without permission. I told her she was lovely. She was furious. She said she would make me pay.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’m sure it will be all right. She will calm down and, even if she doesn’t, what can she do? The Head Stableman knows you are a good and honest worker and he would never believe anything against you. And if she says anything to the Master, he will always believe the Head Stableman rather than a silly little girl. Nothing will happen, you’ll see.’

  ‘I do hope so,’ the boy dried his eyes, ‘but I wish I hadn’t been so stupid.’

  ‘Anyway, she’s just a weak little girl; no-one is going to listen to her.’ The man was adamant.

  Now thundering over the fields, Kati thought: ‘I will deal with that boy later. I know how I will do it, too. It will serve him right. But now it is time for my experiment. It is time to have some fun with my horse. Let the adventure start!’ If Kati had been in possession of a hunting horn at this moment, she would have blown a triumphant blast! She headed directly for a small copse of trees in the distance.

  A few moments later, Kati slowed down and rode into the copse where she would be concealed from sight. She dismounted and located the small piece of wood pierced with nails in her bag. Now she loosened the horse’s girth strap and lifted the saddle clear of the animal’s back, placing the wood block with its vicious rusty nails pointing downwards, adjusting the position carefully to ensure the nails straddled the centre line of the horse’s backbone. Satisfied, she retightened the girth and the horse, feeling the prick of the nails on its skin, jumped restlessly.

  ‘Stand still,’ she ordered angrily and swung into the saddle. The horse whinnied loudly as her weight drove the rusty nails through its skin into the tender flesh below. Shaking the reins, she drove the horse into a gallop and proceeded to bounce up and down as heavily as she could on the saddle. The horse screamed as the nails sank fully home and, crazed with pain, the tortured animal bolted back and forth across the fields, galloping faster than it had ever done before and covering many miles.

  Kati was delighted: ‘Yes, my experiment works; pain makes the horse go much faster. This is wonderful fun! I could keep this up all day.’ Kati bounced violently up and down in the saddle to increase the pain even more. After at least half an hour of constant galloping at full speed, the crazed and lather-covered horse recognised the stable buildings some distance away and decided to head for home and security as fast as it could. Its rider, no longer in control, was now clinging on as hard as she could but still wildly elated at the wonderful success of her scientific experiment.

  The loud clatter of hooves in the stable yard brought the same two stable workers running from the building, their faces showing their shock and concern. The horse, still in agony but now startled by their sudden appearance, reared up and Kati slid slowly from its broad back on to the ground without sustaining physical hurt or injury.

  The young stable boy, acting with no thought for his own safety, ran beneath the hooves of the rearing and plunging animal and caught it by its reins, calming it to a quivering halt while his colleague ran to help Kati: ‘Miss Kati, are you hurt? How can I help you? Shall I call the Master? Shall I call the Mistress?’ The young man was shaking like a leaf.

  She took his extended hands and drew herself to her feet, brushing herself down with her hands. ‘Stand aside, you fool,’ she said rudely and surveyed the scene with narrowed eyes. She knew she had to act quickly now. Striding quickly to the side of the horse, she loosened the girth and, with great difficulty, pulled the block of wood with its deeply embedded nails from the flesh of the animal, making sure that neither of the stable hands saw what she was doing. Quickly, as planned, she tossed the horrific blood-covered item over the stable yard wall where it fell into deep undergrowth close to the wall on the other side, in a spot where it would be concealed forever.

  News travels fast. Before many minutes had passed, the stable yard was filling up with concerned men and women, many wailing and wringing their hands.

  Kati’s nanny came running up to her: ‘Oh you poor baby, where are you hurt? You must come with me and we will look after your wounds and then you can rest for the remainder of the day.’

  ‘Leave me alone, you stupid woman!’ Kati’s reply was spat out venomously. ‘Where is the Master?’

  The crowd parted respectfully as the Master appeared, very agitated: ‘Where is she? How badly has she been hurt?’ The man was beside himself with worry.

  ‘Here I am.’ Kati threw herself into his strong arms. ‘I am unhurt; I fell softly from the horse when it reared and threw me off. It is because you have made me such a good horsewoman.’

  ‘You must go to your bed and rest. You have had a terrible ordeal’ The man was so relieved.

  ‘No, Father, there are things we must do here, now. There are two matters to be dealt with. After that, I can rest.’

  Her father was greatly taken aback when his daughter then burst into loud weeping. ‘Kati, darling, what is wrong, are you hurting somewhere?’

  ‘Not physically, Father, but I am so ashamed. I am so humiliated.’ Kati sobbed pitifully.

  ‘Ashamed of what? Humiliated by whom?’ The man was puzzled.

  ‘Father, I am sorry, but I must tell you this. When the horse bolted into the stable yard and reared up, throwing me on to the hard ground here, these two stable hands laughed.’ She indicated the man and the boy.

  ‘Laughed?’ The man was mystified. ‘Laughed at what?’

  ‘They were laughing at me being thrown off the horse on to the hard ground.’

  ‘What?’ The man now understood and his face became like a rock. ‘Can this be true?’ He addressed the man and the boy, now standing totally confused.

  ‘No, Master,’ the man replied.

  Kati’s father was about to speak when he heard his daughter’s voice say: ‘Father, that is not the worst part. I am so ashamed!’ Her voice rose to a loud wail.

  ‘What is it, Daughter?’ the man spoke ominously, ‘You must tell me.’

  ‘When he was helping me up from the ground, he touched me. Here.’ She pointed down to her lower body.

  ‘Who touched you there?’ Her father’s face drained of colour. ‘Who?’ he shouted.

  ‘That stable boy.’ Her pointing figure identified the young stable boy who had been so brave in dealing with the pain-crazed horse when it returned to the stable yard.

  At this, there was a low howl from all those present, the howl of a ravening mob, instantly stilled to a bated breath silence as Kati’s father stepped close to the boy: ‘Boy, is this true? Did you do this thing to my daughter?’ A growl of menace.

  ‘No, Master. No.’ The boy was wailing like a baby. ‘I caught the horse, I wasn’t …’ The boy’s voice merged into a scream as the Master’s whip laid open his left cheek from lip to ear.

  ‘Master,’ the older stable hand tried to intervene, ‘the boy did not …’

  ‘Are you saying my daughter is a liar?’ The Master’s voice was frightening in its intensity. Silence. Then the same question repeated to the boy, now vainly trying to stem the blood from the gushing wound on his face: ‘Are you saying my daughter is a liar?’

  ‘Master …’ the older stable hand began, before he was fel
led to the ground by a terrible blow to the head.

  ‘Take him,’ the Master pointed to the boy, ‘lock him up and send for the Court Jailer.’ Willing hands removed the boy very roughly, leaving a trail of blood on the ground.

  ‘Now we must deal with the horse,’ the Master said crisply. He looked kindly at Kati.

  ‘You should leave us now so that you do not see this.’

  ‘No Father,’ she replied demurely, ‘I feel I must stay. I have known the horse for many years.’

  He looked at her with admiration: ‘You are such a strong girl, Kati, I adore you.’

  Of course, Kati was absolutely delighted with the outcome of all her plans. ‘And now they will kill the horse. I must see this!’ Her eyes gleamed in pleasure but she was careful not to show it.

  The Head Stableman was called and he arrived with several assistants. The Master and he spoke together for a few moments and the Head Stableman departed to return with a small razor-sharp knife. The horse, now completely docile was led away to the back of the stable block. Kati and her father followed.

  ‘Fetch the close hobbles,’ the Head Stableman ordered his assistants. It was then, while waiting for his assistants to return, that the Head Stableman noticed a serious wound on the horse’s back, now caked with a considerable amount of blood. Coming closer, he examined the wound carefully. The Head Stableman had been working with horses virtually every day of his life for over 30 years and he was an expert on these animals. His face impassive, he linked up his conclusions about the wound and associated them with the events of the day. He would write a few notes later to make sure he remembered what had happened on this dreadful day.

  His assistants returned with the hobbles and these were fastened around the horse’s fetlocks as tightly as possible. Warning Kati to stand well back, the men suddenly thrust the tightly-hobbled animal sideways; the unfortunate animal fell heavily on its side with a sickening crash, screaming in new pain as several ribs were broken by the impact with the uneven, stony ground. As the horse struggled and cried in pain and distress, the Head Stableman stepped forward and located the jugular groove near the base of its neck. Slitting the skin, he identified the large carotid artery and severed it with a single lightning stroke.

  Kati loved learning new things and now her knowledge was about to be expanded considerably. She had always thought that the blood would just gush out in a steady stream but she saw it actually came out in powerful spurts, especially at first. Also, it took quite a long time to drain the horse of its blood, much longer than she imagined it would.

  ‘Well, horses are quite big animals, so I imagine they must have a lot of blood inside them,’ she mused. More minutes ticked by and she could see the flow of blood was diminishing now; furthermore, the horse’s legs had stopped making these strange twitching movements and she noticed a change taking place in the large brown eye clearly visible from where she was standing. The eye was glazing over. She stepped forward so she could examine this eye from close range.

  ‘How different dead eyes are from living ones,’ she thought, ‘I know this horse’s eye so well but now it has become totally different; there’s no life, no intelligence, no sense any more in this eye.’ She shook her head in wonderment. ‘There’s always more to learn,’ she concluded.

  The girl was sure this had been the most interesting day of her life. Looking at the dead animal, she reviewed the situation: ‘This is my horse – no, I must now remember to say it was my horse!’ In fact it had been her horse for nine years. How well she remembered her father giving her the horse when she was only four years old. She remembered the horse was distinctly smaller than it was now.

  ‘But then so was I!’ This thought accompanied by a coquettish smile.

  Thereafter, the horse had grown up to be a fine, good-natured animal who had always been kind and gentle and never given her any trouble. Down the years she had driven it harnessed to a light wagon and also ridden it on many occasions. Her father allowed her to ride the horse within their lands, across the fields and through the forests. How exciting that was at first. Over the years, Kati had become a very good horsewoman, able to ride both side-saddle and astride.

  ‘It was different in olden days,’ Kati thought, ‘then, girls were not allowed to sit astride a horse but now in these times, we can go hawking with the men and everyone needs to be astride for that. Hawking is a very exciting way of hunting. Thank goodness it’s the fourteenth century!’

  As she completed her thoughts, Kati’s father came over to her and embraced her with love: ‘Don’t worry, Kati, I’ll get you another horse. I know how much you loved that one but sometimes they go a bit mad in the end. When they do, that’s when you have to do the humane thing and end their lives.’

  ‘I understand, Father, you are so good to me. I love you so much.’ Kati was always artful!

  Now there was another arrival. The Court Jailer had arrived in his black covered wagon. Having gone to the Manor House and enquired at the Servant’s Door, he had been directed to the stable yard. The crowd, still milling about in the stable yard parted to allow the large and heavy vehicle through and then crowded around it.

  ‘I am summoned by the Master.’ The Court Jailer was a small portly man, dressed wholly in black. He was the first point of contact when there were matters of criminality to be dealt with. He was in charge of the Town Jail, a festering building in the centre of the town. He was also responsible for preparing the indictment which would be the basis of the case if it went to the Town Court. Someone from the crowd ran around to the back of the stable building to seek the Master. Here, he found the Master and his daughter sitting on a low wall, deep in conversation.

  ‘Master,’ the man said with great deference, ‘the Court Jailer has arrived and requires to speak with you.’

  ‘Bring him to this place for the conversation. We will be able to speak here and will not be interrupted or overheard. What I have to say is private.’

  Shortly after, the Court Jailer arrived with his burly assistant who sat down some distance away. ‘Greetings, Master.’ The man removed his headwear in deference, ‘I hear you may have work for me?’

  ‘Yes, that is correct,’ the Master replied, ‘it has been necessary for me to arrest one of my stable boys. This is embarrassing to say but I must say it for my lovely daughter’s sake. This boy deliberately touched her lower body when she was thrown from her horse earlier this afternoon.’

  ‘I see,’ the Town Jailor murmured, writing steadily. ‘And does the boy admit his guilt?’

  ‘No, quite the contrary, he protests his innocence. He maintains my beautiful daughter is a liar. And there is another stable hand who was present who also says the boy is innocent. He may need to be arrested, too, although his offence is not so grave. I have struck him grievously and this may be punishment enough. I will think about it and decide before you leave.’

  The Court Jailer finished writing and heaved himself to his feet. ‘Master, I think I have heard enough. Do you wish me to take this boy into jail custody, where I will examine him rigorously and construct an indictment for a Court case?’

  ‘Yes, that would be satisfactory. Please do so.’

  ‘And what of the other man, Master?’

  The Master thought for a moment. ‘You may leave him here with me. I will deal with him without the Court.’

  ‘Thank you, Master. It has been a great honour to speak with you today. May we go and inspect the prisoner?’

  Meanwhile, Kati had been sitting beside the men, listening raptly to their conversation – a real adult conversation – and she was only thirteen! What a joyous honour all this was. Mind you, she reminded herself, thirteen is not so young. Some girls get married at thirteen or even earlier. Not that she wanted to have anything to do with marriage or men. Men are brutes (except her Father, of course); all they wan
t is sexual coupling.

  Kati was not sure what sexual coupling was exactly but she knew it was concerned with something very nasty and painful. And she knew for certain that this thing happened to girls when they were married. So Kati’s mind was made up; she wanted nothing to do with men or marriage or sexual coupling – and she had already told her father that.

  ‘Don’t worry, my lovely girl,’ he would say playfully, ‘I would never force you to do anything.’

  Now she tagged along as they went to inspect the prisoner. He was held in a wooden cage which had been designed for hunting dogs.

  ‘Goodness,’ she breathed, ‘he certainly is a sorry sight. But then he deserves it. He should never have been impertinent to me!’ Her eyes shone with pleasure.

  The boy lay in his blood-soaked clothes, weeping with pain and despair, still holding his gashed face in an attempt to stop it bleeding. He looked up with fear at the Court Jailer – of course he knew who he was and what it meant. He looked pleadingly at the Master, who turned his eyes away. Then the boy’s eyes found Kati and his wailing ceased abruptly. He addressed her from his cage in a broken voice. ‘Miss Kati, you know the truth. Tell them the truth.’ She looked at him impassively.

  ‘You know I have already told the truth, boy. I feel very sorry for you.’ To say she felt sorry for him was a master stroke, she thought with glee.

  ‘Kati,’ the Master cried, ‘you are so sweet, kind and generous but this boy is a criminal and he must pay the price for his crime.’

  In the shadows, the Head Stableman listened silently and shifted uneasily.

  The assistant of the Court Jailer dragged the boy from his cage and expertly placed his hands and feet in heavy manacles. Then he hustled him out to the stable yard where the waiting crowd spat on him and struck him with punches and slaps, opening up the wound on his face once more. Eventually, he reached the safety of the black covered wagon. The assistant lifted him high and threw him bodily into the back of the wagon, fastening the canvas cover securely. The crowd howled insults as the heavy vehicle manoeuvred to turn around and then rumbled away to head for the nearby town.