Breaking the Rules by Barbara Taylor Bradford Page B

and a tongue to match, but a tantrum-throwing little thug as a child. How cruel Edward had been when he was little…Closing his eyes, Larry drifted with his thoughts, caught up on an old memory from long ago…
    Laurence stood his ground, his feet firmly planted on the gravel driveway, the cheap child’s sword in his right hand, his left hand on his hip. He was seven years old, and proud of his stance. His father had shown him exactly how to stand, and taught him how to fence properly, and so he knew he was the best.
    His twelve-year-old brother Edward unexpectedly jumped forward, startling him, brandishing his own sword, and shouting, ‘I’m coming in for the kill, you knave!’ But Edward merely leapt around on the spot, behaving like a wild circus dog, and looking silly.
    Thrust and parry, thrust and parry, Larry reminded himself, picturing his father’s performance as Caesar in one of his films. Taking a deep breath, he moved forward. Tin met tin in a clashof toy swords, and he immediately jumped back, hastily retreating from Edward, who was well known to be dangerous, and never played by the rules.
    His brother sprang closer to Larry, and suddenly he slashed out, catching Larry on his left arm. ‘You’ve cut me, Edward!’ Larry cried. Much to his surprise and horror, he saw blood spurting through the cotton fabric of the fake chain-mail tunic. ‘You’re not supposed to do that,’ he shrieked, backing away, dropping the sword he was holding, bringing his right hand to his left arm, endeavouring to staunch the flowing blood.
    ‘Coward! Coward!’ Edward shouted, waving his sword over his head, and advancing on Larry, crazily jumping from side to side and laughing wildly. ‘I will defeat you now, you alien dog! Not one of us. Not one of us. Changeling! Darkling! You’re not one of us. ’
    Suddenly growing frightened of his brother, Larry picked up his sword, then backed away and tripped, fell down on the gravel, his sword now skittering across the drive. Catching his breath, he tried to push himself to his feet.
    Laughing, enjoying his triumph over the younger boy, Edward zeroed in, knelt down next to Larry and began to pummel him, hitting him on his shoulders, chest and face. ‘No mercy for the enemy. Kill the enemy!’ Edward snarled, a spiteful gleam in his pale eyes.
    Wrapping his arms around his head, Larry attempted to protect his face, whilst still pressing his hand on the sleeve of his blood-soaked cotton tunic. He tried to move again, to get up, but Edward was much stronger than he was, and held him down, gloating.
    The clattering of high heels running through the hall and down the front steps sent enormous relief rushing through Larry. Their mother’s voice was thunderous as she screamed, ‘Get off him, Edward! Get off him at once! You’re really in for it, my lad.’ She was suddenly looming over Edward, her face furious,and grabbing him by his collar, she unceremoniously yanked him to his feet, shouting into his gaping face, ‘I’ll have your guts for garters, you little bugger!’
    Literally throwing Edward to one side, and looking totally undisturbed as he fell hard on the ground, his mother crouched next to Larry. She was appalled by the amount of blood covering his tunic, and also alarmed. Larry’s face was bruised and bloody where his brother had hit him hard.
    ‘My God! I can’t believe this!’ Pandora exclaimed, and she put her arms under her youngest child and lifted him closer to her, held him for a moment against herself, hurting for him. She said, ‘Do you think you can get up, darling?’
    He nodded.
    Pandora stood and, bending over Larry, she helped him to get to his feet. Slowly they walked across the drive and up the front steps, and Pandora murmured to him lovingly, reassured him he would be all right as they stepped inside the house.
    ‘Mother,’ Edward said from the driveway.
    Pandora glanced over her shoulder. Her face was white with shock, her anger unabated.