Adoration by Olivia Rae

Author:Olivia Rae
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HopeKnight Press
Published: 2018-02-28T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

And the prayer of faith shall save the sick, and the Lord shall raise him up; and if he have committed sins, they shall be forgiven him.

James 5:15

In the distance, they saw smoke coming from the village. Sir Theodore pushed his horse into a gallop and Faith followed. The bellow of grey rose above the town. Injured men coughed and staggered, leaning on others, and the wailing of women could be heard before they were seen. In the midst of it all stood Sir Rollin with his sword drawn, barking out orders to his knights. Nausea squeezed Faith’s stomach as she looked from one bloody farmer to the next. A few knights and peasants lay dead.

Sir Theodore quickly dismounted his horse and rushed to where Sir Rollin stood. “What happened here?”

Sir Rollin pointed his bloody sword to a pile of burning carts and then to a pile of broken hoes, ploughs and harrows. “A dispute broke out. One farmer accused another of breaking his plough, while another complained of a smashed harrow and cracked hoes. Yet another joined in the fight saying the wheels on his cart had been shattered. By the time Sir Darrin and I arrived, one of the carts was blazing and the villagers were charging each other with fists and pitchforks.”

Faith dismounted and came to Sir Rollin’s side. “Where is Sir Darrin?”

The color drained from his face. “My lady, we are not sure how it happened, but his lordship stepped into the middle of the fray and tried to restore peace diplomatically. At first it looked to be successful, then out of nowhere, blood started to flow from his back. He’d been stabbed. And that set the whole town aflame again.”

“So you butchered these people to gain control?” Sir Theodore stood less than a finger from Sir Rollin and barked, “You’re a knight. Surely you could have regained the peace and disarmed them without shedding more blood. They have pitchforks, not swords or spears.”

Sir Rollin pushed Sir Theodore away. “Mayhap if you were here, things could have been handled differently. But Lord de Longue was down and clearly the wound was not caused by a pitchfork or spear, but a dagger. A very lethal weapon.”

Remorse and anger flickered across Sir Theodore’s face and guilt curled up Faith’s spine. Part of this was her fault. Had she not asked for Sir Theodore’s assistance earlier, he might have been with Darrin. A sudden chill of fear chased away the guilt. Her eyes quickly scanned the pile of dead. Where was Darrin? Her throat closed and she could not answer the question that seized her voice.

As if knowing her distress, Sir Theodore’s gaze became cold. “Where’s Darrin?”

Sir Rollin motioned with his head. “Back at the château.”

Faith’s heart quickened; she did not wait to hear more. She ran to her mount, but Sir Theodore’s hand on her arm stalled her retreat. “I’ll go with you,” he said, his face packed with concern. She did not answer him right away, her mind a whirl of conflicts—guilt, remorse, caring and love flooded her body at the same time.

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