Duilleog (A New Druids Series Book 1) by Donald D. Allan

Author:Donald D. Allan
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Tags: Fantasy, Magic, Druids, Gaea
Publisher: Donald D. Allan
Published: 2015-06-18T23:00:00+00:00

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Seth relaxed as they sat in the comfortable silence. Seth was used to such silences, and waited patiently for His Holiness to speak. He shuddered in ecstasy at the thought of hearing him. The voice of God was in his voice and he always longed to hear it. The fact that the voice of the Archbishop was unspectacular itself did not faze him – it was knowing that God spoke through this man that excited him. Years of training kept his face and hands calm and steady as desire rippled through his diminutive frame. He was now forty-five-years-old – fifteen years younger than the Archbishop, but he had aged well. A regimen of physical exercise and a strict diet had kept him vibrant and strong. His muscles were wiry and thickly roped but were hidden intentionally behind loose fitting clothes. His head and face were always kept smoothly shaved except for a small patch of beard he sported below his lower lip; this was his only vanity.

Seth had watched the Archbishop age and become stooped before his eyes over the years and knew that the tests God gave him were the cause of his physical decline. The Archbishop bore the weight of the Church on his shoulders and fought daily for the rights and souls of those who still proclaimed their love of the Lord and it wore on him physically. Seth also was aware that he had an outlet for his rage while the Archbishop did not. The Archbishop kept his righteous anger locked up deep inside and knew that it consumed him.

Many times he had tried to convince the Archbishop to come down to his Chamber to assist in the purging and cleansing of the heathens, but he had always refused. He understood why; the Archbishop was answerable directly to God and could not soil himself with such menial tasks, but he knew that this outlet would be therapeutic to him and felt sorrow for him. He wanted the Archbishop to witness his acts for God.

Now, as he sat savouring his weekly cups of wine, Seth tried to read the Archbishop's mood. He knew that a missive had arrived – he always knew what was happening inside the Castle; rarely did anything escape his notice. Watching the small telltale signs from the Archbishop's face, Seth knew that whatever it contained it had both upset and somehow sparked an excitement within him. Only someone as close as he was to the Archbishop could have recognised the burning anger that lay within him, but it wasn't his eyes that gave it away. It was found in the slight tightening of the skin around his eyes and a shallower and quicker breathing than normal. Signs that Seth could read instinctively, learnt through years and years of lovingly applying his skill to those heathens in the Chamber. Whatever was in the missive was important. Important enough the Archbishop had summoned Seth to his office two days in advance of their normally scheduled meeting time.

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