Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 92771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
“Hurry and see it done,” Quint whispered through gritted teeth, he was so annoyed. “You need to sleep.”
“Ayyye,” Shade said on a yawn.
Quint cursed beneath his breath before he ordered, “You will sleep the day away.”
“If only,” Shade said and with her body aching hurried to Ula’s cottage.
Quint waited outside, people avoiding him since he wore such a deep scowl. It deepened when he didn’t see Dru anywhere and hadn’t since yesterday when he told her to be his ears and eyes. Once he made sure his wife was tucked in bed, he intended to go look for her.
Thankfully, his wife paid heed to his command and did not take long.
“I need to make a mixture for Caleb to take, then I will seek our bed,” she said.
“I will make sure of it and see that Caleb receives the mixture.” Quint got annoyed when it didn’t go as planned.
“The tracker found something,” Nug said when he reached Quint.
Quint looked torn, his wife needing him.
“Go, I will see to the mixture and have a servant deliver it to Ula.”
“And you will rest,” he added.
“Aye,” she said and yawned again.
Quint didn’t want to leave her, but he was confident that she would rest, being too exhausted to do anything else.
Shade got herself moving as soon as her husband left her side. She could see he didn’t want to leave her, and it pleased her to know how much he loved her. But right now, all she wanted to do was be done so she could seek her bed.
It took her a bit longer to reach the chieftain’s quarters, her legs warning she would not last much longer. She went to the table after entering the bedchamber and got busy on the mixture. She was so tired that she wasn’t careful and accidentally knocked over a small crock of crushed herbs, then she cut her finger, blood pooling on the table and mixing with the spilled crushed herbs. It resembled a mixture of blood and ash, and Shade recalled the dream she had of seeing the crosses made from blood and ash on the dead monks’ brows and Brother Emmett warning her to run. Then she recalled when she and Quint were in the refectory in the abbey, and she asked him if he blessed the monks. She couldn’t make out his reply, the sounds of the men breaking in interrupting it. She thought hard as she traced a cross in the blood and crushed herbs and heard it clearly.
Nay.
He had said nay, so how could Brother Peter know about the crosses on the dead monks when they were buried shortly afterwards and all the men who helped bury them refused to ever speak of the ordeal? Those in the church would have never heard of it. The only way Brother Peter could know was… if he had been there. Was he, not Asher, the one behind this whole plan?
“Sorry to intrude, but I thought I’d take a chance and see if I could visit with Chieftain Ryland. He truly should receive absolution if by chance he might not survive.”
Shade turned to the door, though not before tracing the letter p in the blood and crushed herbs, to face Brother Peter.
“I will be quick,” he said with a congenial smile and hurried into the room. It vanished when he approached the bed and saw it was empty. “What is this? Where is Chieftain Ryland?”
“He’s not here,” Shade said, moving slowly toward the door.
“Where is he?” he demanded and rushed at her, gripping her arm before she could slip out the door.
She was honest with him, there was no reason not to be. “I don’t know.”
Brother Peter shook his head, puzzled. “But you were tending to him.”
“I never tended Chieftain Ryland. He was never here. We made it appear that he was.”
“Has this all been a ruse? Did Ryland never make it home? Is he dead?”
“I don’t know what happened to Chieftain Ryland, where he is, or if he is dead or alive.”
“Who does?” Brother Peter asked.
“No one.”
“You’re coming with me and if you call out for help, you’ll not only die but those around you will as well,” he warned.
“But so will you,” she said as if he hadn’t thought it through.
“True but knowing how you pride yourself on helping people, saving lives, do you truly want innocent people to die because of you?”
“Don’t you plan to kill me anyway?” she asked, fearful that was his intention.
“That has yet to be determined.” He yanked a dagger from his robe and poked her lightly in the side with it. “Your husband is not the only one skilled with a dagger. Be foolish and you will feel its sting and die a slow agonizing death.”
He would have to be truly skilled to know precisely where to stab her to cause such a painful death, but she was not about to take a chance. Besides, she couldn’t let others die because of her. She was confident The Monk would rescue her. It would not take long for him to see that she had not kept her word to rest and once he didn’t find her in their bedchamber, he would come here and hopefully find the clue she left him and understand who took her. If he was delayed, Ula would come look for her wondering what was taking her so long to prepare the mixture.