Age of Faith

Episode 1's

Lincolnshire, England, October 1149 A nightmare ripped him from sleep, twisted his throat, and filled his mouth so full that he could not cry.

Desperate for air, he opened his eyes to a moonless night that denied his face from his assailant. By all the saints! Who dare? He attacked, but a second attacker appeared and threw him into his stomach. Although a dirty cloth had been inserted into his mouth, loosening his hands around his throat allowed him to breathe through his nose. Then he was pulled from the blanket where he made his bed away from his master's tent. Late to realize the mistake of allowing the disgrace to incite her into isolation, she pushes back and almost finds her release.

The hands gripped him harder and dragged him towards the wood. Who's the villain who doesn't speak a word? What do they mean? Will they beat him for a traitor? Any worse? A snare fell through his ear. Sensing death was on his shoulders, he knew a fear that surpassed everything he knew. He yelled at the cloth, struggling to shrug from under the rope, stretched out and hooked his useless hand. God, help me!

The cruel hand fell from him, but when he grabbed the rope, it tightened and banged his chin against his chest. A moment later, he was lifted from his feet. He lashed and clawed at her tied neck but could not breathe the slightest air. Realizing that tonight she will die for what she wants to do, he would sob like the boy he once denied had the breath to do so.

Unworthy! A familiar rebuke sounded through him, although it had been months since he had been summoned like that. Yeah, it's not worth it, because I can't even die like a man. He clenched his trembling hands and fell silent as the lessons taught by Lord Wulfrith were counted through his mind, the greatest being whose protection was found in God.

Feeling her life flickering like a flame gulping down her final axis, she embraced the calmness that enveloped her and directed her dark gaze to one of her assailants standing to the right. Although he could not be certain, he thought the man's back turned towards him. Then he heard the wheezing from the person who also suffered from shortness of breath. A mute scream of disbelief split his lips.

His body twitched and, with the presence of his last thought, he once again headed to heaven. Don't leave him alone too long, God. Pray, no. Castle Lillia Annyn Bretanne lowered her gaze from the moonless star's mantle. "Jonas ..." He pressed his hands to his heart. Where did this feeling come from? And why did this feeling have anything to do with her brother? Because you think of him. Because you want him here not there.

"My girl?" He pushed back from the fortress and swung. It was William, even though he only knew it from the man's rude voice. The night was too dark for the torches at the end of the wall to illuminate his face. He's stopped. "You should sleep, Miss." As usual, there was a smile on the title he gave. Like the others, she knew she was a woman with a noble birth only.

That she had stolen from the bed in the middle of the night further confirms what everyone thinks of someone who, at the ages of four and ten, should be engaged— might even get married. Despite such circumstances, Annyn tends to joke around with William, concerns continue to weigh on him

"Good night" he said and hurried past him. While holding her heart, she went down the stairs and ran to donjon. Not until she closed the door of her room did she remove her hand from her chest, and only then did she release her husband's tunic. Falling onto her bed, she called out to the one her brother assured her was always nearby.

“Yes God, don't let Jonas get sick. Or wounded. Or..." He put aside thoughts that were too horrible to think about. Jonas is well and will return from Wulfen Castle. He has promised. He clenched his hands in front of his face. “Lord Almighty, I ask You to take my brother home from Wulfen. Immediate