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Authors: From Whence Came A Stranger...
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“What happened?! Were ye attack?! Good God, I shall make quick work of them if they dared attack thee!”
“Nay, there was no trouble. He seemed fine, and then he complained of a headache, nigh stumbled and fell because of it. I feared the worst for a moment… Ye should have seen him, Thomas, his skin was so pale and tinged blue—I thanked the Lord that he rests now.”
The other man stared at him, his brows knit together with concern as he helped him lift their friend gently from the cart. “’Tis—‘tis possible the head wound has not healed properly...”
Phillip glanced at Thomas with a grim nod. “Aye, ’tis possible…”
“Could it be just be a passing thing then?”
“We can only hope it to be so, but they come and go… Sometimes he tells us, sometimes he does not…”
The two men exchanged a concerned look as they drew the unconscious man up between them. William didn’t even wake up with the motion, which only added to their fears as they laid him down and glanced at each other with worried eyes knowing he should have at least stirred a little from their actions. Thomas turned a nd caught the other man’s arm after they had laid him down gently. “Let him rest now, Phillip, he only needs to rest and all shall be well. Yee shall see!”
Phillip knelt beside him anyway and laid a hand on his chest, feeling for the steady rhythm of his heart; trying all the while to convince himself that it was merely a passing thing and nothing else. But the slow thudding of his heart and his ragged breathes gave him cause to worry as he whispered tensely, “He—he could die…”
“Nay, do not speak it! Cover him with a blanket and I shall stoke the fire, and all shall be well…!”
Through the long day he did not awake, did not even stir—his face pale and breaths ragged, and it only adding to their already worried thoughts…
William opened his eyes and blinked at the sunlight that threaded through the open shutter. He didn’t remember coming home or lying down; and yet the eastern light told him it was morning. He lifted a hand and rubbed his head where the scar still lay beneath his hair. The pounding had stopped; at least for now, and thankfully the pain had gone with it, though just a light touch made him wince again.
Phillip touched his shoulder gently and murmured. “Are ye well, m’lord?”
He managed a weary smile as he answered, “Ye—are to address me as William , not ‘ m’lord, Phillip.”
Phillip laughed softly then turned to Thomas who sat by the fire; both men feeling relief at their friend’s light hearted words. “Then, the pain is gone?”
“Pain? Aye, ‘tis gone.”
“I have never seen anything like it before—it pulled thee away from us and we didn’t know what to do!”
William merely frowned as he tried to sit up , wanting nothing more than to change the subject. “I am very much better, I assure thee; and very much hungry. Have ye started the food yet?”
“Good God, no! We feared for thy life not our stomachs! Lie still and I shall start something.”
“Nay, I shall rise, no sense letting the thing keep me down any longer than it already has.”
Thomas came over and helped h im to his feet. “Are ye weak?”
William looked at him and smiled, then nodded slowly. There was no sense denying it, for he was sure that they would see it yet again . “Some, but I shall recover.”
Thomas threw Phillip a worried glance that spoke of each other’s troubling thoughts, neither could deny it; they both knew that he was just making light of something very dangerous and yet prayed they were both wrong.
E gan stopped in the field where Alden Blair stood sharpening a sickle as he harvested his wheat in the hot autumn sun. “Good day to ye, Alden.”
The older man glanced up; then back down at his work again. “And to ye. What brings ye to my farm, Egan?” He said with more
“What happened?! Were ye attack?! Good God, I shall make quick work of them if they dared attack thee!”
“Nay, there was no trouble. He seemed fine, and then he complained of a headache, nigh stumbled and fell because of it. I feared the worst for a moment… Ye should have seen him, Thomas, his skin was so pale and tinged blue—I thanked the Lord that he rests now.”
The other man stared at him, his brows knit together with concern as he helped him lift their friend gently from the cart. “’Tis—‘tis possible the head wound has not healed properly...”
Phillip glanced at Thomas with a grim nod. “Aye, ’tis possible…”
“Could it be just be a passing thing then?”
“We can only hope it to be so, but they come and go… Sometimes he tells us, sometimes he does not…”
The two men exchanged a concerned look as they drew the unconscious man up between them. William didn’t even wake up with the motion, which only added to their fears as they laid him down and glanced at each other with worried eyes knowing he should have at least stirred a little from their actions. Thomas turned a nd caught the other man’s arm after they had laid him down gently. “Let him rest now, Phillip, he only needs to rest and all shall be well. Yee shall see!”
Phillip knelt beside him anyway and laid a hand on his chest, feeling for the steady rhythm of his heart; trying all the while to convince himself that it was merely a passing thing and nothing else. But the slow thudding of his heart and his ragged breathes gave him cause to worry as he whispered tensely, “He—he could die…”
“Nay, do not speak it! Cover him with a blanket and I shall stoke the fire, and all shall be well…!”
Through the long day he did not awake, did not even stir—his face pale and breaths ragged, and it only adding to their already worried thoughts…
William opened his eyes and blinked at the sunlight that threaded through the open shutter. He didn’t remember coming home or lying down; and yet the eastern light told him it was morning. He lifted a hand and rubbed his head where the scar still lay beneath his hair. The pounding had stopped; at least for now, and thankfully the pain had gone with it, though just a light touch made him wince again.
Phillip touched his shoulder gently and murmured. “Are ye well, m’lord?”
He managed a weary smile as he answered, “Ye—are to address me as William , not ‘ m’lord, Phillip.”
Phillip laughed softly then turned to Thomas who sat by the fire; both men feeling relief at their friend’s light hearted words. “Then, the pain is gone?”
“Pain? Aye, ‘tis gone.”
“I have never seen anything like it before—it pulled thee away from us and we didn’t know what to do!”
William merely frowned as he tried to sit up , wanting nothing more than to change the subject. “I am very much better, I assure thee; and very much hungry. Have ye started the food yet?”
“Good God, no! We feared for thy life not our stomachs! Lie still and I shall start something.”
“Nay, I shall rise, no sense letting the thing keep me down any longer than it already has.”
Thomas came over and helped h im to his feet. “Are ye weak?”
William looked at him and smiled, then nodded slowly. There was no sense denying it, for he was sure that they would see it yet again . “Some, but I shall recover.”
Thomas threw Phillip a worried glance that spoke of each other’s troubling thoughts, neither could deny it; they both knew that he was just making light of something very dangerous and yet prayed they were both wrong.
E gan stopped in the field where Alden Blair stood sharpening a sickle as he harvested his wheat in the hot autumn sun. “Good day to ye, Alden.”
The older man glanced up; then back down at his work again. “And to ye. What brings ye to my farm, Egan?” He said with more
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