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)
“Do you know who?” Varrick asked.
“Nay, my lord, but I do know they are prepared for battle.”
“The God of Death is ravenous tonight. He will claim us all! Burn the witch and end this,” the Abbott called out.
“The Abbott is right,” the warrior who had spoken up called out.
“Aye,” another warrior agreed. “You told us you would burn her. You lied. She bewitched you.”
“You know it must be done. Do it now. Lead them wisely,” Abbott John urged.
Warrior monks.
Varrick turned to his wife, and she saw that he had also heard the voice in her head, and she nodded to confirm it.
“ATTACK!” Varrick roared just as the monks drew their daggers. “Stay behind me,” he ordered his wife as he kicked her chair away from the table so he could step in front of her as he drew his dagger from his belt and did not hesitate to toss it with perfect aim at the Abbott.
The dagger caught him in the shoulder just before he had a chance to extract the dagger buried in the sleeve of his robe, the force knocking him off his feet.
Varrick kept his wife shielded with his body as he surveyed the room. His warriors had made sure that it was over before it even got a chance to start. Half of the monks lay dead, and the other half wounded.
“The Abbott was right about one thing… the God of Death is ravenous tonight,” Argus said, reaching down to yank Varrick’s dagger out of the Abbott.
The Abbott screamed and writhed in agony. “Fools, all of you! Lord Varrick is bewitched. He will lead you to your deaths!”
Argus swung his fist, landing it on the Abbott’s jaw and knocking him out cold.
Varrick turned, seeing what he expected to see, his wife hurrying out of the chair.
“I must see to the wounded,” she said.
“They are the enemy. They came here with intentions to kill. I care not if they die,” Varrick said.
“But what if there is more that they can tell you?” she asked.
His handsome face pinched in anger. “Their wounds do not need tending for me to find that out. Besides, they believe you are a witch. They would use their last breath to kill you if given the chance.” He ran his hand down her arm to give her hand a gentle squeeze. “You asked me to trust your knowledge when it came to healing as you would trust my knowledge when it came to battle. This was a battle, a small one, but a battle nonetheless.”
That he reminded her of what she, herself, had said to him had her nodding, pleased he had seen the wisdom in it. “Aye, husband, you are right, and I trust you on this.”
Varrick turned to Argus. “You and Lloyd take the monks to the dungeon.” To Corwin and Marsh, he said, “Prepare our warriors and the village for a possible attack.” His eyes held anger as he let his glance fall on each of his warriors. “And, Argus, take the warriors who spoke out against me and put them in the dungeon until I decide what is to be done with them.”
“With pleasure, my lord,” Argus said.
It wasn’t long before the Great Hall was quiet, except for the servants hurrying around to clean off the tables.
“Bring a hot brew to my solar,” Varrick ordered and pressed his hand to the small of his wife’s back to ease her out of the room.
Fia felt the strength of his simple yet intimate touch and its possessiveness. He touched her with a need, an urgency, to connect almost as if he joined with her. And he did, with a kiss as soon as they entered his solar.
She loved his strong, powerful kisses. It was like he was telling her he loved her each time he kissed her, and she did not think she would ever get tired of feeling his love or hearing him tell her.
A knock at the door ended their kiss, but he managed to whisper, “I love you, wife.” Before the servant entered.
It was not until she was settled by the hearth, a tankard in her hand, did Varrick say, “Something weighs on your mind. I can feel it.”
He had felt it in the Great Hall, and it had lingered with her to his solar, though faded some when he kissed her, then rose again afterward.
“You are sensitive to what I feel,” she said, pleased that she would share with her husband what her mum and da had shared… a powerful love.
“Aye, I am, and glad for it,” he admitted and kissed her brow. “Now tell me what bothers you.”
“I wonder if our unexpected stop at the monastery had caused a quick plan to be devised and a monk sent along with us to keep watch until his fellow warriors returned for him when the time was right.”