Age of Faith

Episode 4

Amid the murmurs and snores of the people in the hall, Annyn looked into the flesh of Wulfrith and hoped that her groove would prove deep enough to mark her forever. And about Stephen who had pressured Uncle to send Jonas to Wulfrith? Whose false claim to England has made to the battle that took Jonas' life? "Once again, if I were a man, I'd kill your beloved Stephen." While his men responded with a raised voice, from the darkness of his cursed soul, Wulfrith stared at him.

“Anni!” Uncle strangled. "You don't know what you're talking about." "But I did." She turned her back and gently swept the hair from her brother's eyebrows. “Pray, Lord Wulfrit,” his uncle begs, “don't listen—” “Don't be afraid. What has been said will not pass from here.” Annyn looked over her shoulder. “My uncle is very grateful for the generosity of the person who bequeathed the grave to his heirs.”

Wulfrith's lower lip was thinned with the upper lip, and his men refused even harder, but it was Uncle Artur's face that held him back. His torment pushes past the child within him and forces him to realize that it is not Wulfrith who staggers under his bitter words. This is the man he loved as a father. He swallowed his tears. He would no longer lose control of his emotions. After all, she was four and ten winter—a woman, even though her uncle defended her as a girl.

If not for his pleasure, he might now be married, perhaps even have children. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he raised his eyelids, Wulfrit's sharp gaze waited for his. "We want to be alone" he said. He tilted his head and looked at Uncle. "Mr Bretanne." “Mr Wulfrit. Positive result." Insulting the baron's large shoulders and long legs, Annyn stared at him until he and his men passed through the door held by the porter.

"You shouldn't speak as you do" said Uncle, although his tone wouldn't forge a sword. Jonas' death has aged her, having stolen the broadness of the shoulders she shouldered as a young girl. Pressing his own shoulders back, he stood four feet tall and a few inches would stretch. "I know I've humiliated you, and I'll try to get your forgiveness." He put up a pulpit and wrapped his arms around it. “Everything is forgiven.”

He handed it to Jonas. As she looked at her brother, a sob went up her throat. Reminding herself that she was no longer a girl, she swallowed it.

“Honored death.” The whisper of Uncle's words was almost as loud as when Wulfrit said it. Although he struggled to hold back the child who instigated words to his lips, he could not. "Honorably! Not even eight and ten and he lay dead for serving a man who was more his enemy than—" "Enough!" Uncle took his arm off her. "Can you deny Jonas would be alive if it wasn't for Stephen's war?" Anger met fatigue on his eyebrows. "No, for I also cannot deny that he would breathe if Henry, Maude's son, did not seek England for himself."

She grabs past him, releases Jonas' belt, and sweeps his tunic. "Look!" He didn't want to, wanted to run back into the forest, but that was the girl inside him. His jaw hurt due to the force he used to grit his teeth, he turned his gaze to the terrible wound in the middle of his brother's chest. "What do you see?" Uncle asked. "A wound." "And who do you think shot the arrow that put it there?" Henry, but— “Who, Annyn?” Henry, but Stephen— “Speak!”

He saw her trembling hands. "Henry." He sighed, bent a finger under his chin, and pressed his face upwards. “Stephen may not be a proper king for England, but until more valuable ones appear, he is everything. I beg you, put away Jonas' foolish allegiance to Maude's son. Henry was just a boy—almost six and ten years—and not worthy to rule.” Unworthy when he leads the army? Not worth it when— He nodded. Uncle stepped back.

Did Uncle know Rowan's presence? He looked to his uncle as he crossed the hall and saw him raise his hand to his chest as if troubled by the feeble heart beating there. Stung by the suffering of the man who had been kind to him and Jonas—much better than his brother who had sown him—Annyn secretly begged, Lord, please take care of him.

A moment later, she was shocked to realize that she called out to the person who had done nothing to protect her brother. Thus, there was no way He would answer his prayers for his uncle. As the old man disappeared up the stairs, Annyn approached the table and reached out to pull Jonas' tunic down. However, the V-shaped birthmark on his left rib caught his attention.

Since it had been many years since his son who had been thrown from his tunic due to the heat of swordplay, he had forgotten that mark. He closed his eyes and cursed the man responsible for Jonas had stolen his brother from him. Wulfrith has disappointed Jonas. Has failed him. As Rowan climbed to the pulpit, he looked around. The guard captain looked at the young man he had been giving for so many years, then a sad voice rumbled from his depths and he pulled on Jonas' robe.

Afraid that she would cry if she continued to see Rowan's sadness, Annyn lowered her face and reached out to straighten her sister's tunic neck. If it wasn't for that, he wouldn't have seen it. I'll never know. He took a closer look at the flaky skin deep below his chin. What caused it? He pushed the material to the side. Raw skin wrapped around her upper neck and, as she traced it, it almost met at the back.

Understanding landed like a slap in the face. Wulfrit has lied. An arrow didn't kill Jonas. Hanging has been the end of her. Wh why? Did her brother reveal his loyalty to Henry? Furthermore, who fits the snare? Wulfrith represents Stephen? It's gotta. And if it wasn't him, then it must have been him who ordered it.

Annyn lifted her chin and saw that Rowan was staring at what she had found. Bile rose, he stumbled past it and knelt down. When it went up and down, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "What would Uncle say about Wulfrith and Stephen now if Jonas was proven murdered?" Rowan sinks deeper into the silence, and she realizes that, although Uncle's heart may receive an honorable death from the one she loves, Jonas's murder will likely ruin her, especially since he had sent his brother to Wulfrith despite Jonas' protests.

If it wasn't for him loving his uncle, he would have hated him. "No, he mustn't be told." Feeling as if she had aged for years in these final moments, she stepped past Rowan and pulled the misericorde from her brother's belt. Frowning over the jeweled handle to form the crucifixion cross, he wondered where the dagger came from. He'll notice.