Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 99206 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99206 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
He nodded. “I will accept your word, but I warn you, a high price will be paid for any deception.”
“I wish to deceive no one.”
He introduced himself. “I am Thomas.”
“Reena,” she said and shared a quick handshake with him.
“I know not if he needs a mapmaker, but that is for him to decide. I will take you to him”—he paused, and his smile challenged—“that is, if you have the courage to face the Legend.”
Reena shoved her black hair beneath her cap. “Lead the way.”
They reached the keep as dusk appeared on the horizon. Her legs were tired, having to take several strides to match Thomas’s one large stride, but she complained not. She kept pace no matter how tired she felt, though at the moment she wished for a pallet of any kind to lay her tired body on.
The stone wall that surrounded the castle grounds stood a good eight feet or more. Reena and Thomas crossed a thick wooden plank with heavy chains attached to each side; once raised, it would make the castle impregnable. Reena tilted her head back as she passed under the portcullis and admired the skilled craftsmanship.
The interior of the walled fortress amazed her. It contained a village larger than her own. The many cottages were well kept, the thatching on the roofs fresh and thick. The individual gardens had been harvested along with the large fields that occupied most of the land opposite the cottages. She caught sight of the fully stocked storehouses and envied their harvest.
She passed metalworkers, weavers, and masons who were busy constructing a tower, and it was just past the tower that Reena saw the keep. It was impressive in size and solid in structure.
Villagers called out and waved to Thomas. The people appeared a cheerful lot, but then they had plenty of food and the protection of the Legend. What did they have to fear?
A small chapel sat to the right of the keep, and a short, stout man dressed in brown clerical robes was busy stocking chopped wood beside it.
Thomas waved to him.
The man waved back and smiled. “The chapel will be nice and warm Sunday, Thomas. See you at Mass.”
Reena could not help but comment. “There is a fireplace in the chapel?”
Thomas answered without breaking his stride. “Cleric David believes the chapel should be a place of comfort for his flock, so when it was built he insisted on a fireplace.”
Her own village had never had a chapel and had limited access to a cleric; the new earl insisted that religion was wasted on heathens.
It was then she felt the rumble beneath her feet; it was as if the ground trembled. She looked to Thomas to see if he had felt it, but he continued walking undisturbed. She rushed to catch up with him, but the steady rumble beneath her had her casting an anxious glance over her shoulder.
She noticed the villagers hurry off the pathway to hover near their cottages and fences as they looked anxiously toward the portcullis.
Was someone approaching the castle?
A fine mist suddenly appeared and crept slowly along the ground as if in answer, but it was not the mist that concerned her.
The rumble turned into a distinct thunder and Reena realized that it actually heralded approaching men on horseback. She heard the unmistakable sound of horses’ hooves pounding the planks of the drawbridge before she caught her first glimpse of the warriors.
They entered with a flourish and villagers ran to get out of their way, the massive steeds and powerful mares demanding that no one cross their path—the path where Reena stood.
She froze watching the mighty beasts and their ominous dark riders approach. She wanted to move; she had to move, but the sight of the warrior who led them rendered her powerless.
He was like nothing she had ever seen before.
There was not a speck of light to him. His garments were black, blacker than the darkest night, and his black metal helmet concealed all but his eyes, mouth and chin. He resembled a demon spawned from the depths of hell ready to devour anyone in his path.
“Move away,” Thomas shouted at her.
Her fear of the descending demon kept her legs frozen. Her mind screamed for her to do as Thomas warned, but she could not move as her legs refused to obey her.
The mist swirled around her feet, night devoured the dusky sky, the ground shook and the devil descended upon her.
Again she silently screamed, to run and hide, escape, but she cringed and braced to face death.
She was suddenly swept up by a strong arm and landed with a thud on the horse. With a quick yank her back slammed against his solid, leather-clad chest and his arm remained firm around her waist.
She thought she heard him angrily grumble, “Fool.” But she could not be certain.