02

Mumbling a stream of curses beneath his breath, and suddenly feeling the weight of his armor, he broke into a run and started towards Thor as the stallion paced fearfully in the midst of the fright, its beady dark eyes recognizing its master as Fallon came forward. Thor obediently stilled as Fallon mounted and whirled the stallion down over the hill.

The cries of men faded into the background as Fallon fastened his fingers tightly around the reins as Thor’s hooves pounded into the earth. He felt beads of perspiration gliding smoothly down his back beneath his chain mail and felt the stickiness of blood along his face beneath his helmet. He wanted nothing more in that moment than to bathe the ugliness of war from his body and forget this day, but as hard as he could try, their was no denying his lineage, his purpose in life, he was bred to kill.

Thor carried him further and further away from William and the battle. He was suddenly aware that there was no one, not even the enemy, around him. An outlandish and slightly serene quiet settled around him, enveloping him in a calm that struck him unaware, allowing him a brief moment to savor the solace and dream on a life that was not of bloodshed and war.

The notion was shattered instantaneously at the abrupt cries of men. He realized then how far he had gone from the hill ; he now stood in the thick of trees, shadowing around him, concealing any imposing threats that lay in waiting.

With the trees towering above him, dimness immersed, forcing his senses alert as his eyes strained against the foliage. His brows furrowed as a deep inkling warned him that something was amiss.

Suddenly, their was a disturbance in the silence, a slight crack and snap as something leapt out from behind him. Atop Thor, he was at a disadvantage as he attempted to turn in the saddle, only to be struck forcefully upon the head.

Even with the protection of his helmet, it did not prevent the intense crack that unsaddled him. He hit the ground with such force that the air whooshed from his lungs.

He moaned as he attempted to lift his head, his eyes blinking rapidly with the pain as he rolled to his side, his hands fumbling over the loose dirt.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood tall as several pairs of booted feet suddenly appeared, one set in particular kicking his sword from his reach.

He cursed mindlessly as he attempted to get up only to receive a steadfast kick to the ribs. He gasped in pain and choked as he fought to gather a breath in his lungs just as a pair of hands whipped out and jerked the helmet from his head.

Fallon raised his head to look upon his enemy but instantly a boot connected painfully with his face. The jolt jerked him sideways and a shot of blood projected from his mouth.

Another boot merged with his ribs and he felt a blinding pain as this was done continuously. Through the heedless haze of pain, Fallon heard the distinct sound of laughter but the voice to him was vague, the source of the chuckle a mere blur to the side of him.

He felt himself slipping into unconsciousness but not before something sharp was plunged deep into his chest. Fallon buckled against the pain as the dagger was forced deeper into his flesh, emitting a guttural sound from deep within his throat to surface.

Pain washed over him as he struggled to grab hold of the dagger protruding from his chest. Each labored breath brought on a flood of spasms that sent blood gushing forth from its wound. He moaned as his fingers wrapped languidly around the hilt sticking upward from his chest, and with what little strength he could muster, jerked the dagger free. A swift and unexpected faintness seized him, pulling him downward and spiraling into darkness.

« Alana please, you must make haste ! » wailed her distressed cousin. Alana McKenna paused long enough in her pursuit of picking wild berries to cast an exasperated leer at Lynette as her older cousin paced a groove into the ground, her eyes, a cerulean blue, resembling the azure sky, moved warily around the forest engaging them.

« I won’t be long now, Nettie, just let me gather a basket full and we’ll be on our way. Agatha’s husband is still very ill and I must have these berries to finish my elixir. »

Lynette heaved a sigh of frustration as she glared at Alana’s back as she bent to pluck handfuls of berries from the surrounding thickets. « Alana ‘tis rumored that there are Norman soldiers in the area ! » she hissed beneath her breath.

« Nettie ! »

Lynette snorted impatiently but refrained from saying anything further ; knowing full well that once Alana was set on something there was nothing that would deter her from her purpose, especially when it came to tending the ill for she had the ability to heal with her exceptional knowledge of herbs and medicines.

Alana was a patient woman, having learned to master that emotion when dealing with the unwell, but Lynette however was not, especially in such an area rumored to be swarming with the enemy.

There little village was nestled quite comfortably in the midst of a dense wooded region and ‘twas said that a colossal army of opposing enemies had battled not far from where they resided and that Norman warriors still roamed the area.

Having personally dealt with the likes of Norman pigs, she was sorely aware of their barbarism and distinguishing nature of cruelty that prompted violence and bloodshed. She had first handedly witnessed such savagery as a child, remembering woefully the massacre left in their aftermath.

‘I’ve gathered enough berries for now. » Alana’s voice penetrated her thoughts and Lynette quickly dismissed the images that would surely resurface from recognition. She had no desire to think of that day or dwell on the pain kept buried beneath an overwhelming magnitude of hatred.

Cradling her basket of berries, Alana made her way to where their horses grazed beneath a peculiar willowing tree.

« Tis almost dusk. » Lynette said with a deal of concern. « There will not be much daylight left to lead us back to the village. »

« We’ll manage just fine. » Alana said reassuringly, sensing her cousin’s unease. « I know a surrogate route that we can take that will save us some time. »

Lynette mounted her horse ; eager to return and Alana followed, taking caution to not overturn her berries that she had worked so diligently to retrieve.

The dirt path they trailed twined the forest, interlacing trees with streams of twilight emitting through the canopy of vegetation. Small woodland creatures scurried at their approach, fleeing to a burrow within the ground or to a suspended branch, well above their reach.

Alana smiled inwardly, delighted in her surroundings as a feeling of contentment came over her. She relished in nature and the sense of liberation. She savored the solitude, the freedom to do as she pleased, collecting herbs, frolicking in the river, all to which she had no one to make demands of her.

She did not waste time thinking on the follies of war, the absurd notion that the land belonged to one man in particular sitting upon a dais. It was absolutely senseless.

The land belonged to no one ; as did she.

« Alana ! » the warning was issued beneath Lynette’s breath as her horse jolted to a stop.