Age of Faith

Chapter 37

Realizing the occupants knew something was going on. They had seen what Annyn—Warren did not have following her. Isobel rose up from his feet with his daughters. “What is he?” "Yes." Yeah." Garr stepped violently across the hall. "Your shoulder!" he's summoned. Garr. his wound healed well— will prop up his sword arm before two weeks.

Porter swung the door wide, and Garr stepped onto the runway. Within, his eyes found Squire Warren. Letting the figure of Annyn Bretanne lead thirty feet where passing under the inner portcullis, the young man clung to the side of the well, then chased after her. Garr catches up with Squire Warren as the young man approaches portcullis. "Sir, I—" "I'm happy with you. Now back to donjon." "But—" "I'll follow." Garr notices as Annyn moves through the outside bailey trying to look as if she is among the many people working in the stables, the workshop, the carpenter shop, the pig place, but she is not included, even wearing simple clothes.

Knowing he will be called upon to equip himself before reaching his goal, Garr is drawn to pull a gunman on the outer wall. Getting it, he pointed to Annyn and looked at her head. As he heads towards the outer tower, Garr is shocked just because he believes he can fly with Rowan. Even with his training, he couldn't possibly think of keeping it unreasonable, but it seemed so. It was not that he would be given a chance, as there was no longer any guard on top of the outer tower.

Feeling like a hunter is about to get his prey, a sensation darted through Garr. However, when Annyn suddenly stopped, she only had enough time to get protection from the eagle before she turned around and looked under the veil.

Annyn held her breath as she considered the workers on the bailey and the men on the wall who continued as if her presence meant nothing. did she just imagine being asked? praying that, he returned to the outer tower. As he approached, he found a bottle from his corset. The guard will likely be in the room at the base of the tower. If all went well, he would not ask questions when he told him that doctors had sent him to deliver drugs to the prisoners. If things don't go well, a stone will work.

He gripped even tighter what he took from the inner bailey. Unfortunately, the guard of the tower was a big man and a single blow to the head might not be enough, but it should thrill the man enough to attack him a second time, the guard room was empty.Where is the man?definitely did not deliver food to Rowan, therefore two hours before lunch.With a hunch, he considered the stairs leading to the belly of the tower where he shared a cell with Rowan.

It was no longer illuminated by the torch.Defying to believe what was whispering through him, he carefully descended the stairs which, without illumination, immediately turned into a tone.Hand to the wall, he was, he descended from the first stairs and fumbled the corridor towards the cell where Rowan was waiting.“Rowan?”He directed his voice through the bars that were set high on the door."It's me, Annyn."There was no answer, and although he tried hard, he did not hear any movement.

There is no breath."I brought you something."He took the bottle out."Come to the door and I'll hand it over.

"Silence.Defusing to listen to the whispers that gather sound in her, she's her head."Pray, Rowan, hurry before someone comes."Could he have slept?He dropped the stone and banged his hand against the door.“Rowan?”The door creaked open.No longer whispering, the voices were saying what he could not stand."No," he took a breath.The guard was negligent in intervening, that's all.

When he stepped in, the smell was as bad as when he went through his first days here.A scuttle to the left carried his head around.“Rowan?”The shock came again.With blindly, she followed him to the corner where Rowan put his palette.When the mattress fell under his feet, he sifted and fumbled on it.

something warm and sweeps his fingers and, with a squeak, runs away.Thin threads of broken delusion, break off, Annyn clasped the frayed end and told herself that Rowan must have picked up her own palette because the wall on the side of the cell was not crying that bad.She crossed the cell with trembling legs, but when she sifted again, she found her palette missing.She leaned back, dropped the bottle, and put her face in hand.

While he was trouble in a warm room, fed a good meal, his illness was treated by a doctor, Rowan.All because of him, because of what he asked of him.For him, he had renounced his loyalty to Henry,take him to Wulfen, and suffer from this cell.For him he has died, for the man who has died

"I'm sorry," he gasped. "Pray, forgive me, Rowan." "You must love her very much" said a loud voice. Wulfrith had followed him, but he didn't care.

No more. Although he wanted to attack her for putting Rowan here, he was the one who did. He rubbed his wet eyes and opened his eyelids to the torch light which revealed the truth of the cells that were looking at it. "Yes." Yeah." He looked over his shoulder to where Wulfrit was filling the doorway, a torch in hand. "I love her." And he did not care how he faced it. Imagining a squint, and on his face was something he called jealousy if it was thrown by another. "Ding's." He looked at the hand on his lap. "When did that happen?" He heard a torch placed in a candle holder beside the door.

Raising his gaze to the wall where Wulfrith's shadow moved, he saw things in the crevices that would have been goosebumps if not for the attraction. First Jonas, then Uncle, now Rowan. Wulfrit stopped on his back. “You shouldn't be here.” He looked over and looked at his impressive figure. "If you remember, I'm here, as is Rowan." “And now he doesn't. Coming." He's breathing deeply. "If you can find it in your heart, and I know you have it, I'll ask you to allow me to myself." A muscle in his jaw snapped. "You should see what I have to do with you." He's your hand.

He looked at his big hands and fingers and himself for recalling their feelings in such a situation. “Now, Ann.” Upset that he had to deny such a small thing, he talked about the hand he offered and stood up. As he turned to face her, his feet made the bottle roll on the floor.

Wulfrith took it from the dirt. “'For this you come to the tower? To bring him the medicine intended for you?” Angry because he envied the relief Rowan— had a chance to survive—he stepped forward. “You talk about God, you pray to God, but do you turn on God, oh mighty Wulfrit?” His nostrils were widened and thinned, but he didn't care. Why would he have to do it when there was nothing left in this world to care about? "Are you?" he demands. He felt his breath on his face, the air shaking between their bodies as if afraid of being near them "My answer!" Black is a visible color, gray and green gets the award after enjoying.

But he didn't say anything. He took his hand to his place. "Are you inside?" Still like a rock. Will one more push render you helpless? Two? "A fighter," he scoffed. “No, a man who let others vote.” It should lose him, but it doesn't. He clenched his hands and conquered them. He stood through his attack as if it was his right.

However, when reviewing her shoulder and she gasped, she realized what she was doing. His cheeks were wet as if he had seen a face into the rain, he was flashing on the spot he was with his hands on his shoulders. "I ..." What words don't sound empty? Her head. “Looks like I'm all I touch. Pray, forgive me. It's this sadness that makes me shocked like that.” He lifted a hand from his shoulder and considered it.

Is there blood? Did he cause his wound to open? "You don't need to be careful" he said, cold as the dead, "not today." What does he mean? That Rowan doesn't deserve sukha? Or the... "What did you say?" Annyn called as she stepped out of the cell, but she did not reply.

He chases after her, unaware she is supposed to be carrying a torch until she is on a dark staircase. Hand to the wall, he fumbled upwards and found the light above. Wulfrit wasn't there. He passed through the guard room where he walked towards the suspension bridge on the inside, his huge figure moving past the others as if he was the only man among the boys.

Then he passed from sight. Ignoring those staring at her, Annyn ran over. While coming out from under the porch, he saw Wulfrit, but only at times before he disappeared into one of the two towers flanking the suspension bridge. He entered a moment later and stopped in front of a gunman whose wide face was spread out with a nose that was almost as wide. "The top floor, miss," he said, move aside. She grabbed Josse's skirt and climbed the stairs. It was four floors up, four of which left his weakened lungs almost breathless.

And there was Wulfrith beside the guard who had been watching him and Rowan in that terrible cell. "Look at yourself." His voice was emotionless. He looked at the door on his left. "really?" he leaked He rushed forward and pushed the door inside. The room was dim, though

compared to a cell, it shines.

Only a glance is needed to see it

conveniently completed with a fresh rush, tables and basins, chairs, and beds.

"Rowan," he sighed and crossed the room.

He slept, his face facing the narrow window where the oil cloth was—

it was removed to let in fresh air.

He touched his eyebrows. That's cool, which means the fever's over. Realises

Wulfrith to take him out of the cell like he asked.

Is he still left

doubt about Wulfrith's innocence, they were blown away like leaves in the wind. Him

he's a gentleman. A man who, in spite of the anger he provoked, lived God, as he said he did not.Tears came out from under his eyelids. He has persecuted her, from

the beginning has placed sin on him, if it belongs to anyone, is his.“Anni?”

He opened his eyes.

A muddy look from sleep, Rowan said, “Doctor told me that you—

well done. I... happy to see it.”

Then he put aside his anger over his betrayal? He put his lips to his lips

the cheeks are rotten. "How are you, old friend?"

“Better than I did in that damned cell.”

“I'm also happy.” He grabbed the gaping tunic that fell from his shoulder,

but when his gaze fell on the familiar mark under his collarbone, he fell silent—

and touch the V-shaped birthmark.

"No!" Rowan pushed her hand to the side and dragged the tunic over her.

Annyn took a step back, blinking as the past jumped into the present, that was all

it was known to scatter him so much that he was afraid he would never know it again.

"Ah, no," she took a breath. It's just a coincidence that Jonas also brought

the mark? Only a fool would believe that. He met Rowan's urgent gaze. "You and

Jonas? My mammy?"

Chest up and down quickly, he stared.

It's been around all this time—in Rowan's full devotion to her brother, her love

for Jonas who came no closer to her than kindness, his jealousy over Uncle

his feelings for his mother, his feelings for his mother are revealed, the arrow he has

put through Wulfrith as a father would do to someone he believed had been

killing son.

Rowan groaned, and the hand holding the tunic in his throat fell down

matrats. "That's right."

Outside Rowan, he saw the door filled with Wulfrit, but it was Rowan