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Authors: Kinley MacGregor
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how horrible it must have been for him. She couldn’t imagine a higher responsibility. Not even one as ruler.
“Is that why they called him the Abbot?”
“Aye, and I have since taken my vows so that I may serve God more truly, since it was He who sent Christian to us to give us the strength to survive our nightmare.”
“And there is truly no one we can send to help him now in his hour of need?” she asked again.
“Nay, child. But fear not. Christian is like no other in battle.”
Christian sank his sword into the body of his latest attacker. He’d held his own, but the tide was swiftly turning against him. Several of the enemy had already wounded him and his sword grew heavier by the heartbeat.
As he grew more tired, they grew in number.
Just how many of them could there be?
Suddenly a blinding light streaked through the darkness. It landed near him, then exploded into fragments that flew against the men attacking him. They screamed as the fire ran up their bodies and consumed them.
More fire rained down. Christian stumbled back, away from the men and the source of their anguish.
As if from an unholy source, the sound of hooves came near. Christian barely had time to move before the horse and rider were upon him.
“Take my hand, Abbot.”
He looked up into the face of Phantom.
Christian took his arm an instant before Phantom pulled him up behind him. Phantom kickedhis horse into a run while Christian held on to the saddle.
“Where’s your horse?” Phantom asked him.
“I know not. It was a farmer’s horse. The fighting scared it.”
Phantom laughed darkly. “Threw you, did he?”
“Aye.”
Phantom shook his head as he veered his horse into the thickest part of the forest in order to escape any who might be pursuing them.
Christian took slow, even breaths as the pain of his injuries seeped through him. It was always like this. During battle, the mind was occupied by survival. Pain had no place in a man’s thoughts. But once safety was reached…
The body’s agony made itself plainly known. And his was singing royally this night.
Christian glanced behind them to see if they were being followed, but if they were, the darkness concealed it. “We need to head toward With—”
“I know. I followed your queen there earlier to make sure she arrived safely before I doubled back to help you.”
That news surprised him. “I thought you were headed back to Paris.”
“I lied.”
Christian frowned at Phantom’s bland tone. “So you followed us, then?”
“Aye. I had a feeling the one I killed wasn’t alone.”
“You could have just told me and traveled with us.”
Phantom scoffed at that. “Not my way.”
Christian understood that. Phantom had always been a solitary creature. Even more so than Christian himself was. In prison, the young man had always been extremely reserved and sullen. He’d only grudgingly interacted with Christian and the other prisoners, and even then he’d been suspicious and cautious.
In many ways, he reminded Christian of a dog that had been beaten one time too many and was hesitant to let anyone else close enough to him for fear of being hurt again. Not to mention, the man carried a severe scar across his throat that he now kept concealed. In prison, there had been no way to hide the mark, which looked as if someone had once tried to cut Phantom’s head off.
So Christian had always done his best to give Phantom the isolation the man seemed to crave.
The two of them remained silent the rest of the way to the abbey. Christian dismounted first, then stumbled as the pain spread through him.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Phantom snarled as he joined him on the ground. “How wounded are you?”
Christian stiffened in indignation. “I was significantly outnumbered.”
Phantom made a rude noise before he seized his arm and draped it over his shoulders.
Christian shoved him away. “I can walk on my own.”
“Not bloodly likely. By the looks of
“Is that why they called him the Abbot?”
“Aye, and I have since taken my vows so that I may serve God more truly, since it was He who sent Christian to us to give us the strength to survive our nightmare.”
“And there is truly no one we can send to help him now in his hour of need?” she asked again.
“Nay, child. But fear not. Christian is like no other in battle.”
Christian sank his sword into the body of his latest attacker. He’d held his own, but the tide was swiftly turning against him. Several of the enemy had already wounded him and his sword grew heavier by the heartbeat.
As he grew more tired, they grew in number.
Just how many of them could there be?
Suddenly a blinding light streaked through the darkness. It landed near him, then exploded into fragments that flew against the men attacking him. They screamed as the fire ran up their bodies and consumed them.
More fire rained down. Christian stumbled back, away from the men and the source of their anguish.
As if from an unholy source, the sound of hooves came near. Christian barely had time to move before the horse and rider were upon him.
“Take my hand, Abbot.”
He looked up into the face of Phantom.
Christian took his arm an instant before Phantom pulled him up behind him. Phantom kickedhis horse into a run while Christian held on to the saddle.
“Where’s your horse?” Phantom asked him.
“I know not. It was a farmer’s horse. The fighting scared it.”
Phantom laughed darkly. “Threw you, did he?”
“Aye.”
Phantom shook his head as he veered his horse into the thickest part of the forest in order to escape any who might be pursuing them.
Christian took slow, even breaths as the pain of his injuries seeped through him. It was always like this. During battle, the mind was occupied by survival. Pain had no place in a man’s thoughts. But once safety was reached…
The body’s agony made itself plainly known. And his was singing royally this night.
Christian glanced behind them to see if they were being followed, but if they were, the darkness concealed it. “We need to head toward With—”
“I know. I followed your queen there earlier to make sure she arrived safely before I doubled back to help you.”
That news surprised him. “I thought you were headed back to Paris.”
“I lied.”
Christian frowned at Phantom’s bland tone. “So you followed us, then?”
“Aye. I had a feeling the one I killed wasn’t alone.”
“You could have just told me and traveled with us.”
Phantom scoffed at that. “Not my way.”
Christian understood that. Phantom had always been a solitary creature. Even more so than Christian himself was. In prison, the young man had always been extremely reserved and sullen. He’d only grudgingly interacted with Christian and the other prisoners, and even then he’d been suspicious and cautious.
In many ways, he reminded Christian of a dog that had been beaten one time too many and was hesitant to let anyone else close enough to him for fear of being hurt again. Not to mention, the man carried a severe scar across his throat that he now kept concealed. In prison, there had been no way to hide the mark, which looked as if someone had once tried to cut Phantom’s head off.
So Christian had always done his best to give Phantom the isolation the man seemed to crave.
The two of them remained silent the rest of the way to the abbey. Christian dismounted first, then stumbled as the pain spread through him.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Phantom snarled as he joined him on the ground. “How wounded are you?”
Christian stiffened in indignation. “I was significantly outnumbered.”
Phantom made a rude noise before he seized his arm and draped it over his shoulders.
Christian shoved him away. “I can walk on my own.”
“Not bloodly likely. By the looks of
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