Age of Faith
Episode 9
Wulfen Castle Forest, England Staring at her distorted shadow, Annyn waited for the water disturbed by her hand to silence and return her face to familiar fields. When that happened, he felt sure that no one would know what was hidden behind the last loose tunic, hose, and braies— sewn in the groin so that the tip of his tunic would not be lifted.
She felt the black hair she had cut into her jaw two nights ago. Of all the things he did to see the boy, this was the one that contributed the most. However, she was not too saddened by the sacrifice of the greatest evidence of her femininity. Indeed, her hair too often proves to be a hindrance. He filled his lungs with fresh air. Spring. Resurrection from the death of winter, it made the world come to an end and gave hope to those who did not have it.
It calms, leaves the old and painful and brings out the new and pleasant. To some. Trying not to think of Uncle who was on the ground right now, and Henry who was definitely fomenting his departure, he rubbed his finger into the new grass beside his boots. His blade was reborn, while he was in this man's world.
When Rowan's shadow appears behind her shoulder, she sees him wearing the family colors he picked up himself and shaving his beard, the latter making him look younger and assuring he will not be recognized. He met his gaze at the pool. "Are you ready, Jame Braose from Gaither?" He stands. "I." "I still see that woman."
"Because you know that woman." She pulls the ties that bind her little breasts under the tunic. "Maybe." He put a hat on his head. “As much as possible, wear this.
And be careful with your voice. It's the bodyguard you pretended to be, not the yard. ” Despite its natural hoarseness being a pretense, a lower tone is required. "I have to." He's picking at bindings. “And avoid that.” He made a face. “Given I am no bigger in the chest than a boy, is it really necessary for me to be tied up?” Eyebrows down.
"Is it necessary for you to do this?" She knew that, although ever since their departure from Lillia she felt her anxiety deepening. "He." "Then you must be bound." He walked towards the horses. 'It won't take long, Annyn comforts herself, convinced that, within a penny, she will find a chance to avenge Jonas.
Revenge is not yours. She put aside her brother's words and touched the misericorde that was bound on her thigh. Large blood vessels in the neck, Rowan said. "Come!" he called. Frightened, he rushed after her and mounted his horse. They maintained silence to the edge of the forest, beyond which lay Wulfen Castle. Annyn's first glance of the majestic building perched firmly on top of the hill made her gulp.
It was tall and wide, its walls swept in dark gray, blood-like red flags on it. “You will still follow the course?” ask Rowan. Wishing there was another way that didn't make him lose his loyalty to Henry, he sat up straighter. "I will."
He nodded and pushed his mount forward. "Gosh," he shouted as they glided across the land. Not until they slowed down halfway, Annyn saw what was happening to the left of the castle. Four men swung swords, tilted, and wrestled hand-to-hand on a wider training field than he had ever seen.
The perimeter is fenced, the inside is crossed by more fences, the field is divided in such a way that each activity is separated from the others. As thunder emerged from behind, Annyn turned her saddle to watch the five armored riders advance towards them. They were from Wulfen, their red coats adorned with attacking wolves. Her stomach churned, she curled up beside Rowan. "Don't forget who you are, Jame Braose" he warned.
Only a few whiskers grew, and then without much enthusiasm. They were all young men, bodyguards that approached the title of knight. "Who's gone?" demand that the person wearing the dark chin blur. It seems like he's not alone in trying to sound like a man. "I'm Sir Killary," Rowan said in a superior voice from someone ranked above the others.
“This is Jame Braose from Gaither. Baron Wulfrith expects us.” The young man urged his horse to approach. "Your letters." Rowan pulled the parchment from his saddle bag and placed it in the guard's palm. The young man unfolded his scroll and observed the words Annyn remembered.
"Good," he said and stuck his chin towards the castle. Although Annyn expected activity on the training ground to stop as they approached, there was no pause in the fierce battle between those fighting towards the title of knight, or when Wulfrith's bodyguards stopped them in front of the field. Young men were everywhere, snorting and sweating.
Among them moved the old man who was shouting directions and showing techniques. However, the one who caught his gaze was a large figure involved in a bare-handed fight.
Silver hair tied at the nape of his neck, the back of his tunic dark with sweat, Wulfrith lunged and knocked his young opponent with a clasp to the jaw. A vibration runs Annyn. The baron must not be defeated by a boy. But I am a woman.
And this woman will drop it to the ground—ke into the ground. As the young man got back up, Wulfrith said something and clenched his hand. The bodyguard nodded and Wulfrit turned around. The face Annyn first saw four years ago was on top of a body that looked stronger in simple clothes.
A moment later, those charming gray-green eyes landed on him. Breathe out! He held his gaze as he crossed the training field, convinced by the knowledge Rowan had gained that Wulfrith had never met Braose. As for Annyn Bretanne, four years had changed her, and once they met, her face was covered in mud. He won't recognize her.
But will he see the woman behind the man's clothes? Continuing to respect him, he stopped two steps to his left. The inside of his body was shaking. Is his nose big enough for a man? He lit. Teeth are flat too? He sewed his lips.
Shoulders too narrow? He pushed them back. Chest also—? "The letters, Squire Philippe," orders Wulfrith. The dark-haired one stepped forward. Only then did Annyn realize that she and their bodyguards had descended. Should he and Rowan? "This is Jame Braose from Gaither, my lord."
