Keeper of the Keepers: The Keeper Saga: Book Two

By T.L. Kitchens

He swore never to break his sacred vow...before he met her

As the ancient wizard of the forest that never ages, the powerful Master Wargo protects and trains all those that have the chosen path to serve as Keepers of the legends of King Arthur. But truly, he is a man like any other that follows in a long line of ageless Wargos, and carries on the magical myth that keeps the hope of Wales alive under their Norman conquerors. The virileness of his true youthful body would not matter at all if Lady Sarah would have stayed in the protection of her father’s keep as he had instructed her. Already ravaged once in her young life, Wargo had healed her body and heart, and now he is the only man she trusts. But every touch, every devotion of her heart turns up the flames of desire he swore a sacred oath to never let his flesh indulge in. Her every effort to prove to the Wizard Wargo that she is capable of being a Keeper, only brings them into closer contact with each other and the inevitable breaking of both their sworn sacred vows.

• Language: English
• Publisher: T.L. Kitchens
• Release date: Sep 17, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311129345

Book preview

Keeper of the Keepers

The Keeper Saga: Book Two

by

T. L. Kitchens

Copyright 2015 T. L. Kitchens

Published by T. L. Kitchens at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes - This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the work of this author.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

About the Author

http://www.tlkitchens.com

Chapter 1

1102 A.D., Castle Shrewsbury Village

You are wrong, Sardon. Lady Sarah would never come back to this village after what happened to her here. Your old eyes must be failing you again. Remind me to take a look at them when we return to the caverns, Wargo jested to relieve his old friend's worries.

It was Lady Sarah, all right. My eyes be fine enough to know what I saw, Wargo, and I saw her duckin' into that witch's hut early this morn. Sardon spoke between labored breaths as he struggled to keep up with Wargo and the other men. His short legs were only one of the hindrances slowing him down. With a body twice the age of Wargo's thirty winters and a middle as plump around as a cow with a calf on the way, Wargo worried more about Sardon making it back from this mission alive than he did himself.

"You are supposed to call me Warick, remember? Wargo raised his voice in frustration and paused to let Sardon catch up to him. When I am not wearing my cloak I am Warick, one of Master Wargo's men, just like the rest of you." Wargo was tired of debating the wisdom of his every judgment with his old friend and mentor, but like a mother hawk, Sardon would not stop until Wargo returned to the safety of the woods they had just left behind and was hidden under his eternal hooded cloak once again.

"Well then, young Warick, who is as foolish as the ageless Master Wargo, Sardon continued with his badgering even though Wargo gave him a warning glare, if you do not believe the Lady Sarah is here, then why do you not just return to the woods? My mouth is still working despite my age. I can bring you back all the information you need from this place."

Aye, I see that your mouth is working just fine for such a worrisome old man. But if you say this girl is already at Cirinda's cottage, then I can take care of both matters with one visit and be gone, back to the woods as you so deeply desire.

Your men and I can take care of--

Sardon's words were cut off by Wargo, and this time he made sure the power of his glaring green eyes left no doubt as to his final decision. I go in with my men, as one of my men. His eyes lingered on Sardon long enough to instill his point, then he addressed the others. Remember, we are simple woodsmen in need of a healer. We get in and out as quickly as possible.

The group of six men, including a grumbling Sardon, nodded their agreement without words and continued on down the dirt road cutting through the small shire of Shrewsbury. The lot of them were dressed in baggy over-tunics of rough woven cloth dyed in muted colors, and they carried no weapons other than hunting bows. Their swords would have marked them as potential threats to the guards who constantly prowled the outer walls of the castle, searching for new victims to torture for their amusement.

Looks like we have trouble already, Sardon said, motioning ahead. He took on a hunched-over position and limped noticeably to one side as if injured.

From the center of the village, two armored guards swaggered down the muddy, pitted road straight toward them. Their dark eyes could be seen under their dented helms, and there was no mistaking that they were looking for their daily ration of entertainment.

If they stop and ask our business, we are here to bring Sardon to the village witch for healing, Wargo reminded his men. He pretended to help the injured Sardon along by the arm, while the other men instinctively took a protective stance around Wargo.

We will not be needing to waste our breath with them after all, said one of his men at the front of the group. Looks like your goddess has intervened for you once again, Master.

It was really more of a distraction than a miraculous intervention. A woman dressed in finer clothing than any other in the village emerged from Cirinda's hut carrying a large basket overflowing with fresh greens. If her manner of dress had not caught the guards' eyes, then surely her shimmering golden hair would have. No peasant from this poor village would wear a cloak of such fine green wool or have hair so well cared for it reflected the light of the afternoon sun like a finely polished sword.

I told you me old eyes had not failed, Sardon said with a smug grin that deepened the wrinkles of his weathered skin from cheek to cheek. Lucky for us the lass has grown into a comely beauty. They all slowed their pace and watched Shrewsbury's honorless knights turn with carnal grins and leer at the woman.

Pretty indeed, but she is not our little Sarah. Wargo ignored Sardon's insulted huff and kept his eyes on the woman. What would a lady like that be doing in a place this dangerous without an escort? She could not possibly think to protect herself. He spoke his concerns out loud as he watched the guards turn to follow her. There was no way the woman would be able to escape them if running were her plan. He saw her glance over her shoulder only once as she quickened her pace down the dirt road. From the nervous snap of her head back to forward, Wargo could tell she realized her perilous position as well.

Eyes too old. Do not know nothing, Sardon mumbled his mimicry of Wargo. At least I am not dumb as well as blind.

She is not our Sarah, and your pouting will not change my thoughts on the matter. I do believe we should follow her all the same, though. Suddenly, to Wargo's surprise, the woman came to a halt and spun around to face her attackers. Her long green cloak swirled about her majestically and her dainty chin came up in defiance to complete the regal image. The action seemed to stun her pursuers, but not for long. Dropping their lances, they freed up their hands and advanced on her like hounds circling a cornered fox, their smiles even more lewd than before.

It be over long since I had meself a woman this fine, said one of the attackers, licking his lips.

Ya never be having a wench this fine before, nor will ya once I am through with her, answered the other guard, his own thick tongue hanging from the corner of his mouth.

Stop where you are, or you will regret your next step. The woman's voice rang out like a chapel bell into the quiet village, and the authority in her tone backed up her threat.

Wargo was as shocked by the young woman's brave demonstration as all the other men, but it was not her courageous actions that grabbed his full attention. It was her voice. It sounded very familiar, yet her face matched no one he knew.

Did ya hear that? Did ya hear her voice with your young ears, young Warick? Sardon asked with a merry grin stretched across his gray-stubbled face. Even his feet were doing a little dance in the dust from his excitement.

Wargo stared hard at the woman before he answered, I heard something familiar in her voice, but I cannot place it.

Picture it coming out of the mouth of a willowy pregnant girl. Remember the first day you brought her to our sacred caves and I tried to escort her to your chamber? Wargo turned to him in disbelief and Sardon nodded his head triumphantly.

Is it really her? Wargo asked, trying his hardest to see the girl of six and ten he had known in the stunning woman before him.

It be Lady Sarah, all right. I will never forget the fire that one could spit if she felt threatened.

But she is so...tall and...grown. How could that be her? It has only been two years since we returned her home to her father, and it was not looking like that. Wargo was so amazed at the changes in the young woman that he totally forgot about what was happening to her. From the other direction down the road, three more soldiers were approaching the scene.

She was starving to death and carrying a child when you found her here. And once you delivered that babe from her, she be even scrawnier. Sardon made a circle in front of his belly with his arms, extending them out, then bringing them in to show his meaning. But that be her for sure. And if you do not want to be healing her up again, we better lend our aid. Sardon hit Wargo in the side to nudge him into action. Well, do something! Snapped out of his shocked gawking, Wargo headed straight for the girl. I did not mean you. Send your men.

Sardon's words rang out behind him, but Wargo was already decided. This had suddenly turned into a mission so gravely important that he could not leave it in the hands of his men. Lady Sarah was the one person who could destroy everything he had been working tirelessly on for the past year. Wargo thought he had taken care of this one great danger when he warned Sarah's father to keep her hidden and far away from Shrewsbury, but obviously Lady Sarah had plans of her own. Hopefully, they had nothing to do with the foul owner of Shrewsbury Castle, Lord Belleme, that had returned and recaptured his lands. King Henry’s supporters had battled hard to keep that stronghold, but to no avail in the end. Both sides of the battle for the throne of England were stretched thin, and the goings on in Wales was the smaller side of a huge shifting of power and lands as battles waged on across England and lords came and went with the promise of fortunes and land in exchange for men-at-arms. With Belleme securely back in this great stronghold, they all were in grave danger again.

Have them stave off the other three guards. I will meet up with you at Cirinda's cottage. Wargo saw Sardon shaking his head, but increased his pace before his old nurse-maid could protest again.

As you order, Master, his men answered in unison.

"It is Warick!" he said under his breath one last time through clenched teeth.

There was no place in the sparse village for Wargo to hide his advance or keep his presence a secret. The leaning mud and thatch cottages were too far from the road to be useful, and there was nothing else but occasional patches of weeds filling in the bleak landscape. He had to approach them in the middle of the road. His plan was to talk some sense into the mindless lugs before he was forced to use more powerful measures of persuasion.

From the laughing looks he saw on the two guards' faces as he neared, it appeared that Lady Sarah's plan to intimidate them had not worked. From the look on her face, she knew it as well. Her large frightened eyes darted around as if surveying her options, all the while keeping a close watch on the circling men. It was only when those eyes finally made contact with his that he saw true fear in them. She was not looking at him as her savior, though, but rather as one more attacker coming to join the game. With another sudden swirl of her long wool cloak, she fled from the road and dashed for the shelter of two rickety stick huts. The two men followed right on her heels, laughing at the renewed sport.

Wargo's protective nature flared as he rushed to help the young woman he had healed once already from the ravishing of a man. His long, powerful strides shortened the distance separating him from the guards, but not before they disappeared between the two huts after her. His hand went down in mid-stride to ready his sword as he neared the alleyway himself. It was not until then that he realized there was no sword hanging at his side. He had no weapon at all. His mind raced as he quickly reviewed his choices. Do something, or let her be ravished for a second time in her young life. He concluded he had no choices at all. Lady Sarah had to be protected no matter the danger to himself. Right now getting her out of Shrewsbury and away from Lord Belleme was more important than even his own safety as the Master. She held the key that could destroy him and all of Wales, and she probably did not even know how dangerously close she was to the one man who could unlock that devastation.

Lurching around the corner straight into certain danger, Wargo landed squarely on his feet in a defensive stance next to the damsel in distress. He screamed out like a battle-starved Celt in hopes of drawing the guards' attention to himself, but he only managed to frighten one person in the shadowy alleyway...Lady Sarah.

She let out her own scream of terror and scrambled to get away from him. The sound of tearing fabric did not even penetrate his warrior's mindset until he saw the exposed flesh of her leg, all the way up to her thigh. With great effort he averted his eyes to the ground toward his brown-booted feet planted deep in a thick puddle of mud, feet that were on top of a long strip of smooth yellow cloth that was no longer performing its intended purpose as part of her skirt. Besides his feet and her skirt, he also saw the two guards face down in the thick sludge, and a plank of wood that looked like it had been used to accomplish the job was still in Lady Sarah's hands.

Stay back if you do not want to meet their fate, she warned, a fiery glow radiating from her eyes, eyes that definitely verified her identity. Never would he forget how the leaf green of her eyes had glistened with tears when she had begged him to help her.

Holding up his hands and still trying to avert his eyes from her partially exposed thigh, Wargo took another step toward her. I have come to your aid, my lady, not to do you harm.

As you can see, I am well protected. Know you not of the Master Wargo and his great powers?

Wargo's brows arched in interest. Aye, I have heard of such a master, but I believe it was that wooden plank in your hand that overpowered these men's heads, and not the Master's magic.

Continue to speak such irreverence about him and you will find yourself struck down by his lightning bolt. She shouted each word at him as if she had the powers to curse him herself.

I doubt not the Master's powers, but a lovely lady like yourself should not be found alone in the village of Shrewsbury. Surely you must know what evil crimes are committed here. He saw terror flash across her face with a slight twinge of one of her eyes, and he was immediately sorry for making her recall the horrible abuses she had suffered at the hands of Lord Belleme. Please allow me to escort you back to your home.

I need no man's help, she declared and took another step back. I know exactly what kind of helping hand you wish to offer. Her glowing face suddenly became cold and harsh, a face he was still having a hard time believing belonged to the starving little Sarah he had helped.

He looked her up and down from head to toe, taking in everything about her that had changed. He could not help but notice that other than her golden unbound hair, she was very well covered. Her tightly laced neckline came all the way to her chin, and heavy skirts concealed her lower body thoroughly, except, of course, where the panel under his foot belonged. She had obviously taken heed of some of his recommendations to insure her safety, but concealing clothing alone was not a drastic enough measure to hide her true beauty from any man. And it most certainly would not protect her if that man happened to be Belleme.

Take your full look at my body with your lustful eyes, for that is all you will ever get. Again her soft face hardened in distrust. I am protected by the Master's hand, and any man who touches my flesh will lose his manhood. Ask the great Lord Belleme if you doubt my word.

If he had not been the Master himself, Wargo would have feared for his manhood at that very moment. Not only were her words convincing, but the smug look on her face had him almost believing she could curse him herself, especially when her bold eyes traced a path right to the very part of him she had just threatened.

I swear on my oath to the Master that I will not hurt you in any way. I am one of his men, and live only to do his bidding.

And I am his wife of a thousand years, she mocked, letting out a snort at his declaration. You are much too fair of face to be his man. The Master picks only ones who will not interfere with the Keepers he trains. She seemed to relax her stance a little as she spoke of the Master, and her distrustful features became quite soft and lovely again. His women are the most beautiful in the land, and the sole purpose of his men is to protect them.

So, as the Master's wife you must be considered the most beautiful woman of all. I can see with my own eyes why he would indeed guard and cherish you. I, too, have only that in mind. Wargo bent down on one knee to make himself less intimidating, and held out his hand to her in offer. For the briefest of moments he thought she would take it. Her delicate fingers reached out ever so slightly from her side and her eyes softened with a deep need to trust someone. She looked so innocent and helpless in that moment that he wanted to reveal himself as the Master just to gain her touch, but as fast as her trust had flickered across her face, her defenses slammed up a shield again. Her hand retracted to the plank with a tighter grip than before, and the warmth of her eyes disappeared behind an icy green wall.

If you were truly his man, you would know that no woman is his wife because of his sacred vows. I see through your false flattering. Her words came out hard and fast. He tried to correct her misunderstanding, but again he was cut off by her commanding tone. Best you be on your way then, Handsome, before Belleme's men arrest you for attacking these guards. With that, she threw the wooden plank at him and took off running again.

Reacting out of instinct, he caught the board in mid-air and headed after her in one forward move. He was no more than four or five strides behind her, but the distance and the mud he was in had been enough for her to slip away. Behind the small mud cottages he saw nothing of the woman who had just run from him. The only person there was an old hag squatting in the dirt. She was hunched over and half-hidden in the tall weeds, a tattered hooded cloak covering her completely from head to toe.

Did you see which way the woman went? he asked her, as he continued to scan the shabby gardens for any signs of Lady Sarah.

A small squeaky voice came from under the old woman's hood and her twisted cane pointed back in the direction he had come. She flew with the swirling wind back to the Master's side. The shaking cane rested again on the ground in front of her, and she hung her head as if exhausted from the short exchange.

Thank you for your knowledge, dear lady. I will trouble your weary bones no longer. No sooner had he finished speaking when he realized the woman was not as exhausted as he had first thought. She still had enough energy in her to summon up some spit and hurl it from her mouth onto his boot.

Believe in his powers, she chanted at him in her old cracked voice.

Well, if I did not believe before, that was surely the deciding factor in my change of faith. With a flick of his foot he shook the spit from his boot and headed back toward the huts he had come from. He looked back one more time to check the fields, and the old woman was gone as well.

Two women had managed to evade him with ease. Today was turning out to be the most magical day in Wargo's life as the Master, and he was not even the Master today. It seemed that Lady Sarah was more capable of protecting herself from men than he had thought, even if she was using the Master's good name to achieve it. She might have been able to defend herself today, but Wargo knew he had to ensure she was never this close to Belleme again. He had to find her and make her understand her position, but he would have to do it as the Master, not as Warick. It was the only way she would listen to reason.

He turned down the path between the two huts to retrace his steps, but the afternoon light at the opposite end was suddenly blocked out by the bodies of two huge men.

Guess we won't be needin' to ask if you saw the culprit who struck down our fellows, said the smarter-looking one of the two.

Wargo looked at the plank in his hands and then back at the two men face down in the mud with their helms half knocked off. I come for a healer only and want no more trouble, Wargo said, sizing up the heads of the two guards and preparing to do just what Lady Sarah had done.

Looks to be trouble found you anyway, came a deep voice from behind him. Three more armed guards had moved in behind him and blocked off his planned escape. The plank in his hand dropped to the ground, and for the second time that day he cursed the empty fistful of air he grabbed when he instinctively reached for his sword.

***

Completely silent and lying as flat as she possibly could in the tall weeds, Sarah pulled back the hood of her ragged cloak to get a better look at what was happening between the woodsman and Belleme's guards. She sighed with relief that her ingenious disguise had worked yet again. The handsome woodsman had not given her a second glance as the old hag, making it quite easy for her to elude him. But seeing him surrounded by all those men was not nearly as satisfying as she had thought it would be. He looked so unlike the brutish armored men who surrounded him. His flowing black hair hung freely to his broad shoulders and caught the breeze like the wings of a bird. He was truly beautiful, like a creature of nature, a creature that needed to be free, and he was about to be put into a cage.

She felt a sudden regret for what she had done and that possibly she should get up and distract the guards again to save him, then another feeling flooded through her that was even more shocking. The same feeling had taken hold of her when she reached out to take his hand, but then pulled back. When she had looked into his eyes for that instant, he seemed so safe and warm, like the huge arms of her father that had encircled her completely as a child and sheltered her from every storm in her life. As an adult, she had only felt that safe when in the Master's care. Why had she felt it now? He was not safe like her father or the Master. He was just a man, a strikingly handsome man, but a man all the same.

She shut her eyes tight and added the extra shielding of her hands over them to block out what she did not want to see or feel. Never could she allow herself to feel that warmth for a mortal man. The cost was simply too high to even consider it. No she had to stay hidden and safe.

She had struggled for more than a year to keep the secret of her father’s death from everyone, even from the Master. Her plan was to prove her worth to the Master Wargo as a healer and pray that he accept her as one of his Keepers. Then she and her people would be brought under his protection and care and she would not ever have to consider a marriage to a man to achieve those ends. She was not about to let a handsome stranger reap the rewards of her labors with one searing look that promised hope. She had no more time to waste thinking about him. There were people waiting for her to return with her healing herbs, people who needed her help far more than a virile woodsman. They were the Master's people, as all the people of Wales were, and if they needed help, it was her destiny now to repay the Master's kindness in any small way she could, even if she was risking much to even be in this village.

They all had to take risks in these turbulent times, she decided, even the Master's men. If the woodsman was really one of Master Wargo's followers, he would be safe no matter where he ended up. Wargo would see to that. Feeling better about his fate already, she waited until all the guards were out of sight, then collected her herb basket and headed back to the hidden tunnel.

***

Were you able to get all the injured people down here? Sarah asked Kenard when she entered the underground passage. The light of day was sealed off behind her and a snapping torch replaced its brilliance. The tunnel had been dug many years ago by soldiers of an attacking army. Its earthen dirt walls were wide enough for two armored men to walk shoulder to shoulder without slouching down, making it quite spacious for her, a woman of average height, to walk side by side with a man as large as Kenard.

There were many more injured than we first estimated, my lady. Many were in hiding and came out only when we started to bring in the others. It seems Belleme is celebrating his return to Shrewsbury by torturing the villagers.

He tortures them because they supported his daughter Lady Francine and her husband Lord Eric. She tried to help King Henry, she tried to do the right thing for the Welsh, and look what it got her. Her own father murdered her right before their eyes and all to take back his damn Castle Shrewsbury. She shook her head in sadness as she thought of this horrible war ravishing the entire land. It is appalling the things men will do for power, Kenard. And Belleme and his men are the worst offenders here in Wales. Did you run into any of Belleme's men today? she asked as she checked the level of collected water in a bucket under a dripping rock.

The question is, did you? he demanded. The few coarse gray hairs in his dark brow accentuated his questioning arch, and his deep brown eyes focused on her exposed leg with his usual fatherly concern. He had been her personal guard since she was a child, and there was no hiding anything from his wise eyes.

She pulled and twisted at the remaining layers of fabric to make the tear less noticeable to his sharp warrior's eyes. I tripped and tore it myself, she stated without emotion, hoping he would let it go. She avoided looking directly at him again by starting down the long tunnel at a quick pace.

I do not think it is wise we split up again, my lady. He was at her side in two strides of his massive legs. His extremely large stature was enough to scare a man off the battlefield at first sight, and mixed with his shaved head and bushy mustache, he was the perfect protector for her. He could intimidate without doing a thing. It is much too dangerous out there for you by yourself. You stand out in this village like a spring flower in the winter’s mud.

Stopping, she turned to him and gently squeezed his huge muscled forearm to show her appreciation. Thank you for the concern, Kenard, but I have done everything in my power to be unappealing to any man. She held her arms out wide to reveal the layers of heavy woolen fabric that covered every part of her flesh completely, except her thigh. You know I am capable of disguising myself from those armored fools anyway. Do not worry about me, not when we have all of them to worry about. They stood looking down the straightest part of the lengthy tunnel. The dark dirt of the walls was completely obstructed on both sides with the leaning bodies of people injured by Belleme and his men.

Sarah took in a deep breath of the dank air down in the crowded tunnel and fought back overwhelming feelings of hopelessness, futility, and fear as she knelt down to help her first patient in the seemingly endless line of suffering.

My lady, God bless your soul for comin' to aid us, the first injured woman thanked her. She huddled for support between two large rocks in the wall, her bleeding leg lying useless in the middle of the walkway. She was not much older than twenty, but her blotchy skin and coarse dry hair spoke of the woman's harsh life as a villager of Shrewsbury.

This village helped me when Belleme threw me here to die. I will never forget that. Sarah wished she could forget it, but the pain in her every step reminded her of the broken legs she herself had endured, and the babe she had been forced to carry 'til birth. If the Master had not helped her heal, she would have died for sure. It was now her turn to repay the favor and hopefully the Master would see her worth as a Keeper.

Were you able to get all of the healing herbs you need? Kenard asked Sarah as he cut the legging cloth from the woman's thigh with his small dagger.

I was only able to retrieve a few of them. I was temporarily detained by woodsman who tried to pass himself off as one of the Master's men. Sarah put up her hand when Kenard's shiny head snapped up to voice another warning. I eluded him as I have all the others, and if he is under the Master's care he will be fine.

Kenard's distress was more than evident by the increased exposure of the whites of his eyes. Fine from what? What have you done this time?

Sarah averted her eyes to the woman’s injured leg. She knew better than to face Kenard when she was trying to hide something. I am not sure what became of him, actually.

Not sure?

Yes. Not sure. Must I repeat everything for you?

Sarah knew he was right. Again, she felt a deep regret sink into her chest, and just as before, it was followed by another unwanted feeling. A sudden rush of warmth ran over her, just as it had when she reached for that stranger's hand and was held mesmerized by his beckoning green eyes.

Speak your mind if you must, Kenard, but it will not stop me from helping where I can. She softly smiled at him hoping he would understand, but still he did not turn his concerned eyes away from her.

Others can come here and do this work for you, my lady. Others can go out and get these herbs. Kenard dug his hand into her small basket and shook the plants in her face, his anger growing more and more evident with each shake.

If I am to have a chance at being one of the Master's Keepers, then he must know of my skills in healing. He will never come to Steinbrook looking for a Keeper unless I give him reason, and holding that position is the only way I can protect my people now. You, more than anyone, knows our dire position. Kenard was actually the only other person who knew of her father’s passing. He had reluctantly helped her hide the truth at first, but every day that went by was getting harder and harder to enlist his help. If only Wargo would return soon.

IS this farse really worth it? Can he truly protect you? Kenard asked with his usual disbelief in the Master's powers.

The Master is the only man who can keep us all safe from Lord Belleme or any other invaders. The only time I have ever felt completely safe was in his care...well, other than with you, she quickly amended when she saw Kenard's hurt look, and a brief moment with a stranger in the village, her mind unwantedly added.

That is because he hid you in the woods in his caves. Do you want to live the rest of your life like that? Like a ground animal of the night? You are the heiress of Steinbrook and many depend on you for their lives. Why not ask for the King's help to find you a strong lord to marry? Not all me are bad, you know this. We can find one who can protect you--

Sarah cut off his words with a soft touch of her finger to his lips. Let us not go into all this again. You know I will never tie myself to any man and give him the rights to my father's keep or my body. Besides, no man can protect me from Belleme like the Master's powers. Now stop smashing my medicine and make yourself useful, she said, slapping his hands playfully out of her basket. I promise next time I will not get anyone else thrown into the dungeons. She gave him a weak smile and received one in return.

It will just be one more body you will have to heal if you do, he said solemnly.

I know, she answered him, as a horrible vision cut through her mind of that beautiful man's strong, lean body bleeding and broken. I will not do it again. Not ever.

Sarah moved on to the next person and let Kenard wrap the wound on the woman's leg she had just cleaned. She needed to have a clear mind to do her work here, and Kenard's comments were making her think far too much about things she should not even care about. Especially that woodsman who had made her feel things she could not explain upon such a short meeting.

It be so kind of you to pick these greens to help heal us, milady, the next woman said as Sarah gently examined her smashed hands. Her large brown eyes reflected the gratitude of her words as well as her chipped-tooth smile.

"Back home, I would have been able to locate