Revenge of the Brotherhood (Book 3 in the Tom & Laura Series) by Booth John

Author:Booth, John [Booth, John]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: John Booth Enterprises Limited
Published: 2012-09-29T16:00:00+00:00

Daisy decided the farm looked safe enough. A tiny stone cottage and wooden barn sat in a couple of acres of cultivated land surrounded by forest. There was a small pond below the buildings, on which ducks swam. A few chickens scratched around the barnyard looking for food. It all looked friendly enough and the sun had already set though it was not yet dark.

“Let’s give it a try. We will need to find somewhere to spend the night. Let me do the talking.”

“Do you speak Breton or French?” Laura asked.

“Not a word,” Daisy said cheerfully. “German seemed more useful when they offered classes at Hobsgate and I spent time in Austria as a child.”

“I know Latin and that’s very similar to French,” Laura offered.

“You know how to write it, not how to speak it. Leave it to me.”

They approached the door slowly and Daisy knocked on it. Nothing happened for a few minutes and Daisy wondered if the farm had been abandoned. Then the door opened and she found herself staring at the sharp end of a pitchfork. It was held by a man in his twenties. He looked frightened.

He said something in a language neither of the girls understood.

“Do you speak any English?” Daisy asked, enunciating every word as clearly as she could.

“A little, go away.”

“We want to stay the night. We can pay.” Daisy held out a small gold coin. Despite its size, it was probably more money than the farmer had ever possessed.

The farmer took the coin from her and bit it. He put the coin in his pocket. Holding up a single finger he said ‘Une night’ and waved them into the cottage with the pitchfork.

There was a woman by a cot in the far end of the one room dwelling. A boy of nine or ten lay on the cot naked and she was wetting his body down with a cloth.

The man and the woman exchanged words. From what Laura could tell from the woman’s tone they were not welcome.

“Is the boy ill?” Daisy asked.

“My son, very sick, die soon,” the man said with great sadness. He motioned them to sit round the only table in the room. A single candle in its centre lit the cottage.

“My name is Laura,” Laura said slowly pointing at herself.

“Daisy.”

“Pierre.”

“Marie.” Marie pointed at her son, “Claude.”

Pierre opened a cupboard, taking out a loaf of bread and a pot of soft cheese. He put them on the table. He opened another cupboard and took out an earthenware pot and drinking jugs. The pot contained homemade wine. Soon, they were eating and drinking and the tension in the room dropped considerably.

“I wish Tom were here; he could heal the child, I’m sure,” Laura said. She looked at the child who had done little but sweat and occasionally moan.

“You know Healer?” Marie asked; a gleam of hope in her eyes.

“Oh no,” Laura realized she had just done a terrible thing. “He is far away.”

“Why not try using a bind?” Daisy asked.

“I am not a Healer,” Laura said, almost in horror.

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