Knight Furies by C.C. Wiley

Author:C.C. Wiley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-12-11T20:32:59+00:00

Chapter 12

Nathan tore his mouth from Meg’s. The terror in her eyes gave him pause.

“No,” she cried. “No. What have I done?” She scrubbed the remnants of their kiss from her lips.

Together, they ran, hand in hand toward the village. He pulled her along as their strangled breaths threatened to break them apart. “Stay with me,” he called.

Smoke billowed from one of the outbuildings. Flames licked the thick black clouds.

Wide-eyed, Meg pointed to the roof. “Dear God. It’s next to the chandlery. What of the children? I must find Baldric and the girls.”

Nathan grabbed her arms. “Brother John will have reached them before us. He will see to their safety. We must keep our heads. Do you have a plan if a fire should ever leap its hearth?”

“Yes, the villagers know what to do. But we don’t have the number of men that we used to.”

“Call all the able-bodied servants to you. Have them gather every bucket they can find. Wet the blankets and bath sheets. Bring them to the outbuildings.”

He stopped running, and gathered her to his chest. “And Meg, I beg you, be safe.” He kissed the crown of her head before releasing her.

She cupped his jaw. “You as well.”

Meg gathered her skirts and raced toward the tower. “To me,” she screamed. “To me!”

He spun on heel and ran toward the burning building.

* * * *

Smoke lingered in the air, thick and strong; it filled the nostrils and sat upon the tongue. It stuck to everyone’s clothing and hair. Everyone would be reliving that nightmare for some time to come.

Nathan’s arms and back ached from spreading as much water as he could over the thatched roofs and sides of the buildings. His hair smelled of burnt feathers. All who stood before him were covered in soot.

Meg poured the bucket of seawater over the last glowing ember and sunk down on a low wall. Her face and dark hair were coated in a dove-gray powder. Stains stretched over her skirt and across her bodice. And yet, he could not help but think what a beauty she was to behold. A warrior for her people. She’d fought to save her village and she’d won. The villagers stopped her, speaking a word of gratitude. His heart swelled with admiration. He ached to taste her lips again, to kiss her until they were both breathless with desire.

But there was sadness in her eyes that went far beyond the burning of a few buildings. Why did she blame herself for the fire? If he went to her, would she turn him away even as she did while they battled the blaze together? She had closed herself off and refused to look at him. Made comments to others, but did not speak to him.

He searched the last few hours when they worked side by side with servants and villagers alike. There was no class difference when one was saving your existence from the fires. Through it all, he had not lost himself in the blood-red memories of panic and fear.

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