Becca St John [Protector 00.5 The Healer (epub)

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.He finally answered with a mere, “Aye,” nodding his head, as his normally recalcitrant mule, Homer, moved toward the stream.“Is this not the same place where Hugh the younger lost his life?”“Aye, that it is,” Kenneth replied.The friar’s usual calm abraded Roland’s restlessness.“I wish to stop.”“Then do so.But I will not.” Kenneth added calmly.“You will do as I do!” Roland barked.At this Kenneth did stop, turning in his saddle to look back at a fiercely scowling Roland.“Are you commanding me?” Kenneth asked with humor.Taking advantage of Kenneth’s halting, Roland dismounted.“Aye, I am, for these woods are obviously not safe and I am your sole protector on this journey.”Kenneth’s bark of laughter caused Homer to twitch his ears.Roland’s scowl grew darker.“Do you not trust that I have earned my gilded spurs, had the right to be called knight?” Roland quizzed.“Nay,” Kenneth denied, swallowing back any more laughter, “Nay, but do you not think that I have traveled farther with less arms and no harm? Do you think you are truly my soul protector? And in doing so, do you not think that you fail to trust in He who is the great protector of us all?”“Did he protect my brother and my brother before him?”With a deep sigh, Kenneth swung down from his beast.“Aye, he protected them in many battles, in many ways, but when it is time for a man to die, it is time.” Kenneth led his mule to drink from the gurgling spring.Roland stayed where he was, no longer focused on the friar.Instead, he looked about the clearing.‘Twould seem a pleasant place, but it was not.‘Twas a place of bad omen.A place of ambush and murder.To have two brothers set-upon in one spot was not a measure of coincidence.Not in the same manner, in the same field, when there were no other attacks sited upon this place.‘Twas not coincidence.A vile place, no more than an innocuous meadow.Short, coarse grass and newly-sprung wildflowers bordered by a stand of trees.No snapped branches, broken flower stems, or flattened grass.Roland saw no sign of anyone preceding him, yet hairs rose on the nape of his neck.He studied the shallow stream that fell between two ledges, from an opening high up a rocky slope.Water cascaded some twenty feet into a roiling pool.By the time it reached where he sat upon his horse, it was a lazy peaceful stream.Peace was an illusion easily shattered.This was the place of the healers, the witches.The ones the peasants both sought after and cowered from.Those women had been ousted years ago, by the fanatic Father Ignacious and his sense of righteousness.It had been a brutal scattering, a legendary moment that provided two ghosts as memorial; a grisly old woman and a child.Neither was accountable for the shudder of apprehension that rippled along Roland's spine.Nor where those the ghosts he wished to see.It was his brothers he wanted.Edward.Howard.Their deaths, as brutal as the old women's and still fresh, hurt.Roland over rode the pain, raw and open, with fury.He let it flow through his veins, a white hot fire of anger.If any specter were to appear, he wanted it to be his two older brothers, attacked and butchered in this quiet little place, to tell him who felled them.Retribution was his due.A time for vengeance.Despite its deceptive innocence, Roland knew the meadow held the key.But where? How had his brothers been taken by surprise? How could he, a green knight, having earned his spurs no more than a fortnight before, find the answers?Spring rains had washed away the blood.No evidence remained.Still, Roland studied the land, the shade of the trees, the mountain side.Something wasn't as it should be; he knew it, waited for unconscious clues to surface.On the ledge, where the stream sprang from the hillside, he noted crooks and crevices, dark shadows.He watched the edge of the forest, the sway of each branch.Nothing unusual.As he pivoted, to look behind him, body twisted toward his left, his head snapped back.The ledge.Of course.It was the ledge.There, a shadow stood, alone, nothing to cause it, no rocky overhang or bush.Just a dark shade.He cursed.Knew he had revealed himself with treacherous intent.He feigned disinterest.As though to look farther down the path, he settled in his saddle, looked straight ahead, all the while his gaze angled to that darkness.In a furtive movement, quick as a blink, what had been a dark outline became a figure.It bent low and darted through a fissure in the rock.Got you!Roland bit back a yelp of victory.It was too early for that.The confrontation was yet to come.And it would.He relished the moment, was prepared for it.He was glad to see Kenneth already mounted and ready to ride.Not wanting to bring attention, should anyone be watching, he kept his voice low as he instructed, “Friar, go ahead of me with a steady gate.As soon as you are out of sight, ride as hard as that mule will take you and go get help.”Alarmed, the man looked to him.“Calm, father, calm.We are being watched [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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