and warm bath waiting for him. Anything to pull his mind from the pelting rain.
Suddenly, lightning lit the sky bright as noon-day, causing Luther to jump and dance sideways. The bolt was more than just the usual flicker of light. It was a cascade that lingered, pulsed, illuminating the world bright as noon day for several long seconds. Casting forest and path into sharp relief. The lightning faded slowly, pulsing again and again. James could taste the metallic air, his hair prickling from the electricity. Long before the light faded, thunder cracked and then boomed, trembling the earth.
But within the loud rumble, James heard something else. A distinct crash to his left, the sound of something large shattering. The sound continued after the thunder faded, echoing through the dark night.
James paused, his mind racing to identify the noise. The lightning must have struck something. Something large. There was really only one possibility.
The ancient oak tree. That age-old relic of earlier times with its enormous branches over-stretching a meadow in the middle of his land.
Everyone well knew the propensity that oaks had to attract lightning. Though usually if the strike were not severe, the tree could survive. Granted, that bolt of lightning had been less of a glancing blow and more like a full-fledged battle. The ancient oak losing.
With sinking heart, James realized that such a powerful jolt could actually kill the tree. If true, this did not bode well. The villagers were already so superstitious about the gigantic oak, claiming that it held supernatural powers. What mayhem would they read into its destruction? Particularly on Beltane? James sighed inwardly. Perhaps he was wrong. The noise could have been something else. Perhaps.
James shook his head and urged Luther forward. Nothing could be done about it tonight regardless; he just wanted to be dry. He continued along the road, focusing on reaching his warm bed.
Lightning flashed yet again, leaving the impression of white trees and dark sky lingering in front of his eyes. Trees and briefly something else. A flicker of white lying off the side of the path, a bare arm clutched against a tree. Puzzled, James stopped again and waited for the next pulse to light the sky. When it came, it confirmed what he had seen: a figure dressed in white clinging to a tree trunk, dark hair wet and tangled.
What insanity would bring a person out into a night like this?
James urged Luther forward and then dismounted, waiting for another burst of light before plotting his path off of the lane. Light skittered across the sky, lighting a woman’s slender body crouched low, her eyes closed, skin gray with cold.
Fearing the worst, James stumbled through knee-high brush lining the lane, sinking to her side. He used his teeth to strip off a glove and brushing rain from his eyes, tentatively felt for her neck in the pelting darkness. Her skin was slick and cold to his touch, short hair clinging to his hand. James exhaled in relief when he felt her pulse, strong and steady.
“Madam?” he asked, shaking her gently. No response.
Another flash of light showed that she was thinly dressed in what appeared to be a nightgown and wrapper, the drenched fabric plastered to her figure. She shivered and trembled with cold.
How had a woman thinly dressed come to be on his lane in this weather? She must be a tenant or some other young woman from the village, lost in the storm. Though it seemed odd. Terribly odd, as he thought about it.
Knowing she would likely die of exposure without his help, James slid his arms under her and gently carried her back to the waiting Luther. Somehow James managed to place her limp body before his saddle and then swing up behind her, clutching her close. Curious, he pulled her slightly away from his body, brushing hair from her cheeks
James waited.
When the lightning came, it lit her face. Oval, fine-boned, features delicate and regular.
A haunting face. An unfamiliar
Suddenly, lightning lit the sky bright as noon-day, causing Luther to jump and dance sideways. The bolt was more than just the usual flicker of light. It was a cascade that lingered, pulsed, illuminating the world bright as noon day for several long seconds. Casting forest and path into sharp relief. The lightning faded slowly, pulsing again and again. James could taste the metallic air, his hair prickling from the electricity. Long before the light faded, thunder cracked and then boomed, trembling the earth.
But within the loud rumble, James heard something else. A distinct crash to his left, the sound of something large shattering. The sound continued after the thunder faded, echoing through the dark night.
James paused, his mind racing to identify the noise. The lightning must have struck something. Something large. There was really only one possibility.
The ancient oak tree. That age-old relic of earlier times with its enormous branches over-stretching a meadow in the middle of his land.
Everyone well knew the propensity that oaks had to attract lightning. Though usually if the strike were not severe, the tree could survive. Granted, that bolt of lightning had been less of a glancing blow and more like a full-fledged battle. The ancient oak losing.
With sinking heart, James realized that such a powerful jolt could actually kill the tree. If true, this did not bode well. The villagers were already so superstitious about the gigantic oak, claiming that it held supernatural powers. What mayhem would they read into its destruction? Particularly on Beltane? James sighed inwardly. Perhaps he was wrong. The noise could have been something else. Perhaps.
James shook his head and urged Luther forward. Nothing could be done about it tonight regardless; he just wanted to be dry. He continued along the road, focusing on reaching his warm bed.
Lightning flashed yet again, leaving the impression of white trees and dark sky lingering in front of his eyes. Trees and briefly something else. A flicker of white lying off the side of the path, a bare arm clutched against a tree. Puzzled, James stopped again and waited for the next pulse to light the sky. When it came, it confirmed what he had seen: a figure dressed in white clinging to a tree trunk, dark hair wet and tangled.
What insanity would bring a person out into a night like this?
James urged Luther forward and then dismounted, waiting for another burst of light before plotting his path off of the lane. Light skittered across the sky, lighting a woman’s slender body crouched low, her eyes closed, skin gray with cold.
Fearing the worst, James stumbled through knee-high brush lining the lane, sinking to her side. He used his teeth to strip off a glove and brushing rain from his eyes, tentatively felt for her neck in the pelting darkness. Her skin was slick and cold to his touch, short hair clinging to his hand. James exhaled in relief when he felt her pulse, strong and steady.
“Madam?” he asked, shaking her gently. No response.
Another flash of light showed that she was thinly dressed in what appeared to be a nightgown and wrapper, the drenched fabric plastered to her figure. She shivered and trembled with cold.
How had a woman thinly dressed come to be on his lane in this weather? She must be a tenant or some other young woman from the village, lost in the storm. Though it seemed odd. Terribly odd, as he thought about it.
Knowing she would likely die of exposure without his help, James slid his arms under her and gently carried her back to the waiting Luther. Somehow James managed to place her limp body before his saddle and then swing up behind her, clutching her close. Curious, he pulled her slightly away from his body, brushing hair from her cheeks
James waited.
When the lightning came, it lit her face. Oval, fine-boned, features delicate and regular.
A haunting face. An unfamiliar
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