Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
While she wished to linger, she knew it was not possible and not wise. It was better she hurried and got done with the heartbreaking task before it overwhelmed her with sorrow.
When she finished, she cast one last look around and prayed that someone would find the cottage and make it their home and find as much love here as she had.
After Varrick settled her on the horse, she watched as the men removed her baskets from the cottage. She grew concerned when several warriors began to approach her home with axes in their hands.
She looked to Varrick ready to question him after he mounted his horse but before she could, he nodded to the men.
Shock widened her eyes and stole her voice, and an ache settled in her heart as she watched the men take their axes to the cottage door, smashing it to pieces while other warriors dragged the meager furnishings out to chop apart.
She had been right in assuming his reason for wanting to know where she resided. “You make sure I no longer have a home to return to.”
“This home is no longer necessary,” Varrick said.
Its senseless destruction upset Fia. “Someone else could have made use of it?”
“Not of a witch’s cottage,” Argus said, an axe in his hand. “We will join you as soon as we are done destroying this place, my lord.”
Fia felt as if her heart shattered at such useless destruction. How could someone be so heartless? Then she thought about the man on the horse beside her. He was known as the legendary Highlander for a reason. He had won endless battles and she could only imagine the things he had done to assure victory. Destroying her home would mean nothing to him.
She turned to Varrick as they rode off. “You are right. You have no soul.”
“Something you would be wise to remember,” Varrick warned.
Hold your tongue!
The warning had Fia locking her lips tightly. She had to mind her tongue. It would do no good to spew her anger at him. Besides, anger always blocked her knowing and if she needed anything right now it was forewarning of things to come.
Fia was glad for the continued silence as they traveled. The forest could be intimidating in the winter, the bareness of the trees appearing more like giant sentinels warning people away, but not her. She loved its stark beauty and stillness and used it to calm herself, to draw from the peacefulness of the woods and fill herself with it. She would need it to deal with her husband.
Argus returned with the other warriors and rode to take the lead once again. Varrick left her side to join him and once again two warriors flanked both her sides. She did not care. She kept her mind steady on the forest, reaching out to the peace it offered her and she was grateful to feel her calm return.
Snow began to fall, lightly, but by midday it turned heavy and if it continued there would be sufficient snowfall by evening.
Fia kept her hood up over her head and her hands tucked beneath her cloak and her eyes in front of her since the swirling snow made it difficult to see. She also spoke to the horse, letting him know that there was no worry that all would be well.
An image suddenly flashed in her mind—a monastery and the face of the cleric who had wed them. She realized what was shown to her, so it was not a surprise when Varrick returned to her side with news.
“There is a monastery not far from here. We will stop, hopefully, just for the night and continue our journey tomorrow if the snow allows.”
“I will not be welcomed there,” Fia said.
“They know of you?”
“Where do you think the cleric that wed us came from?”
“He still heals at Clan Strathearn,” Varrick reminded.
“He would waste no time in sending word of what happened.”
“It matters not. The monks will not deny me or my wife,” Varrick said with certainty.
Fia held no such certainty, and a ripple of fear ran through her.
The snow worsened, the snowflakes falling in abundance and the cold nipping sharply. She sensed the relief of those around her when the monastery was spotted, and she was relieved as well. A stone wall circled the place, and they rode directly to the entrance, a large wood door, Argus was already there pounding on it.
It took a few moments before the door creaked open partially.
“Lord Varrick and his warriors seek shelter for the night,” Argus’s booming voice announced, and it was followed by an exchange too low to be heard. The door closed, and Argus walked over to Varrick.
“We are welcome. The witch is not,” Argus said. “Word has reached them from Clan Strathearn concerning their cleric.”
Varrick dismounted and Fia watched as determination rather than anger seized his face and how he approached the door with powerful strides, his shoulders broad, and how the swirling snow itself seemed to avoid him. He was a man who would not be denied.