Cloud Walker, All Fools' Day, Far Sunset by Edmund Cooper

saddle.
    ‘Enough, boy. You have so terrified my gentle mare that she will throw you as soon as she feels your weight. Follow me back to the castle. I will go slow. Lead her carefully. She is not accustomed to boors.’
    Alyx turned her horse round and, hardly glancing at Kieron, headed back through Arundel to the castle. Still showing extensive streaks of mud on his face and clothes, and visibly shaken, Kieron followed her, casting many nervous glances backwards at the docile mare he was leading.
    The townsfolk who were about surveyed the spectacle and took care not to let Mistress Alyx see their amusement. However, they also took care that Kieron-head-in-the-air, whose muddy face was now downcast, should see. Worst of all, Petrina, having made purchases at the bakery, was now returning home with a basketful of fresh bread. At first, when she saw Kieron, her expression was one of horror; then slowly it changed, and she could not repress a smile. The smile hurt him as if it had been a blow.
    At the castle, solemn-faced grooms relieved him of the mare. A lackey, commanded by Alyx, went through the motions of cleaning him up a little, with obvious distaste for the task. Kieron’s clothes were of good, honest doeskin and wool. The lackey wore linen and velvet. Kieron thought it would be a heaven-sent convenience if he were suddenly to die.
    Unfortunately, Ludd was not merciful. He remained alive. Mistress Alyx, with no expression at all on her face, directed him to attend her in the library. He followed submissively, resolving to gather up his materials and take leave of her as soon as possible.
    His sketch and drawing board were on the Persian carpet where he had left them: Alyx seemed not to notice their existence. She went straight to the clavichord; and her riding boots, still wet and bearing traces of mud, left their imprint upon Kieron’s sketch as she walked over it.
    Suddenly he knew that he had reached the limits of endurance. To take more humiliation from this spoilt girl would be to accept more than his manhood could permit.
    ‘Enough, bitch!’ he cried. ‘I have had more than enough of you!’
    Alyx turned to him, affecting surprise, indignation. Cool and controlled indignation. ‘Boy, you have exceeded yourself. You have used a certain word in my presence and directed at my person. For that I will have you whipped from the castle. Your apprenticeship will be dissolved and you will be sent forth to live as best you may on nuts in the woods.’
    ‘Not before I have taught you a lesson,’ retorted Kieron icily. ‘Mistress, I ama freeborn man and I have dignity. Your blood may be noble, but your manners are exceedingly crude.’
    And with that, he lifted her bodily, sat upon the stool by the clavichord and proceeded to spank her bottom with much vigour and enthusiasm.
    Alyx screamed. Kieron enjoyed her screaming mightily. He was enjoying it so much that he was unaware of the doors of the library bursting open as servants rushed in. He was aware of nothing but the exquisite pleasure of spanking this spoilt child who presumed to be a woman. He was aware of nothing else until hands seized him and he was struck on the head and sank into oblivion.

8
    He awoke to find himself in what seemed to be the castle donjon. He awoke because a pailful of cold water had been hurled at his face. He awoke to find himself hanging by his hands from manacles fastened into the stone wall. He awoke to find that his wrists ached, his arms ached, his shoulders ached, his head ached. He awoke to find that Seigneur Fitzalan, seated on a chair, was facing him. By Seigneur Fitzalan’s side stood the castle gaoler. Behind his chair stood the Mistress Alyx.
    They will kill me, thought Kieron hazily. I care not. Better to die like a man than live like a sheep.
    ‘So, prentice, you are kind enough to rejoin us.’ Seigneur Fitzalan’s voice was pleasant, gentle, even. But his countenance was stern. Kieron saw no mercy in it.
    ‘Forgive me,