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)
A monk stepped forward, ringing his hands as he spoke. “It must be dark magic she practices if it worked in the Lord’s house. Do not accept her offer or we will all be doomed.”
“I am no fool Brother Alan,” Abbott John said. “We will seek the solace of the chapel and pray.” Nods circled the room along with prayers as the monks filed out of the room. Abbott John hurried a glance around the room. “Brother Luke, show Lord Varrick and Lady Fia to their room.”
Brother Luke reluctantly left the retreating monks to do as Abbott John ordered.
“I will see you both in the morning,” Abbott John said, bobbing his head at Varrick and ignoring Fia before hurrying from the room.
“A moment,” Varrick said to Brother Luke and stepped aside to speak quietly with Argus once again.
Fia avoided looking at Brother Luke, not wanting to see his face distorted with anger and hate. It did not matter though… she knew the man would not be able to hold his tongue.
“You are no healer. You are a witch,” Brother Luke whispered harshly. “Our prayers will protect us from you, and you will meet the dire fate you deserve.”
She shuddered when he mentioned her fate. She had already met it in Varrick but was beginning to think it would not work well for her. She turned to face him and noticed beads of sweat dotting his pale face.
Instinct had her hand reaching out to touch his arm. “Are you not feeling well?”
He pulled away from her. “I will not have your evil touch me.”
“You should seek your healer’s help. You do not look well,” Fia advised.
His face contorted into a nasty snarl, and he whispered, “Evil will not survive the night here.”
The threat was obvious, and she turned eager to return to her husband’s side.
Varrick saw the upset in his wife’s eyes and went to her. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Fia said, fearing what might come if she told him what the monk had said.
“You do not lie well, wife,” Varrick said.
Fia sighed. “Something my grandmother often warned me about.”
“And something good for me to know,” Varrick said and took her hand before turning to the monk. “Take us to our room.”
They followed the monk down a long corridor, Fia wondering why she had told Varrick that she was not good at lying. It certainly was not something that would help her.
After passing three doors, the monk stopped at the last one along the corridor and opened it, stepping aside for them to enter.
A musky odor stung Fia’s nose as soon as she entered the cell-like and nearly barren room. A narrow bed, barely big enough to fit one, and a small bench were the only furnishings in the room.
“Breakfast is served after mass,” Brother Luke said and went to shut the door.
“Lock that door and I will break it down,” Varrick warned.
The startled man did not know what to say.
“I know many monasteries lock their monks in at night. I am not one of your monks. Lock it and I will tear the door to shreds,” Varrick warned again.
“Aye, my lord,” Brother Luke said, bobbing his head and hurried off, his booted feet pounding a retreat down the long corridor until they were heard no more.
Varrick stepped out of the room to cast a glance around then stepped back in and closed the door behind him. He tossed his cloak onto the bed and walked slowly toward Fia.
Instinct had her backing away from his every step until she had no place to go, her back hitting the wall. He leaned close to her, so close she could see that what she had thought was a wrinkle at the corner of one of his eye was a small scar and that his dark eyebrows curved perfectly above his intimidating, bold blue eyes, and that his warm breath was pleasant, and his slim lips damp and ready… to kiss her?
“Since you cannot lie, I will have the truth from your lips,” he said and noticed how plump and rosy they were and, for a brief, surprising moment, he was tempted to kiss her. Annoyed at his thought, he snapped, “Do you possess dark magic?”
Fia stared at him, her tongue caught silent.
CHAPTER 6
“You will answer me, Fia!” Varrick commanded when no response was forthcoming.
Fia was trying to find her voice, his query having stunned her.
Varrick all but accused her when he said, “Sometimes silence speaks louder than words.”
Fia went to speak when someone pounded at the door, startling them both.
“Lord Varrick!” Argus shouted. “You must come now.”
Varrick rushed to the door and flung it open.
“Brother Luke has been found dead,” Argus said, his breath rushed.
“The monk just left here,” Varrick said, shocked by the news.
“He entered the refectory and collapsed dead in front of us all,” Argus said, appearing just as stunned. He paused a moment before saying, “The monks believe the witch killed him.”