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   Chapter 90 No.90

The WeatherMaker Hearts Desire By Lady Lilium Characters: 5260

Updated: 2018-07-10 19:02


A short time later, and they were slowly making their way upstream to the town of Hexham.

'Why do you two fight so terribly?' Annabel asked Farrell beside her as he walked alongside his horse. It was rocky in this area beside the river, so the group made their way on foot, leading the horses beside them.

Farrell sighed, glancing forwards at Arlen who walked ahead of them.

'He is angry for what I've done.'

'And what have you done?' Annabel asked.

'It was my negligence that put us in this mess in the first place. If it wasn't for me, I could still be living in my old home, with my wife by my side, my daughter, and perhaps more children. But…' he broke off.

'What happened?'

'My wife was murdered, on the same day my daughter was stolen.'

Annabel's eyes grew wide. 'You are looking for her. That's why you came to my village.'

'You have the same long dark hair she had' Farrell said turning to her. 'The same dark hair her mother…' he turned away again.

'I know how you must feel' Annabel told him quietly. 'I too have lost a loved one. My brother….he…died a long time ago.'

'What happened?'

'There's not much to say really. We were very close.'

'We should get you some new clothes' Farrell said quickly changing the subject as he looked her up and down, before facing ahead again. 'You might be travelling with us for some time.'

Annabel said no more.

When Tristan returned home, he separated himself from his soldiers, leaving them to carry on with their own business. He was tired, exhausted in fact, wanting only to rest and let his mind become at ease. But the first thing that happened when he entered his home, was that he was greeted by his wife. 'The annoying woman' as he secretly called her; but only in his head, he never spoke this out loud. He could never after all be sure where she was lurking.

She appeared before him, wearing a very beautiful, very expensive-looking blue dress. The shoulders were left bare, and there was a great white strip running down the front in which was very intricately detailed, the depiction of a great dragon, coloured white and shades of blue. It was of a foreign design.

'Where did you get that?' Tristan spoke in a tone of displeasure.

'Do you like it?' Olithia asked him, giggling like a playful child. She looked very beautiful with her blonde hair curled into ringlets and falling about her shoulders. She gave a twirl for him. 'Isn't it beautiful?'

Tristan didn't even bother trying to suppress his groan as he buried his face a hand.

'Goddamit woman….I'm not an endless pit of money.'

She smiled sweetly at

him, not in the least bit put off.

'My dear husband' she cooed sarcastically. 'What good is it being married to a prince if I can't spoil myself?'

Tristan lifted his head, glaring daggers at her; he could feel his blood pressure growing ever higher.

'Fine' she sighed, dropping her playful tone and moving away from him. 'Eat your food, the servants have just cooked. If you don't eat it soon it'll cool. Not that I care…' she finished, turning her head away dismissively and speaking to the wall.

She clicked her fingers as she left. Her handmaiden, who followed her almost everywhere rushed up to her, walking behind her with her hands together and head bowed.

The two left the room.

Tristan dismissed the other servants who lingered, wishing only to be alone at this time.

He wandered through his home and to the dining room, sitting down heavily in one of the ornate seats; elbow leant upon the arm of the chair, chin resting on his closed fist. The food that had been placed before him looked fresh, looked delicious. But he ignored it.

Instead he took another deep breath, trying to calm the raging storm within him.

'Hateful woman' he whispered to himself.

He turned his thoughts away from his wife, and thought again of that man he had seen, the one he could not get out of his mind.

He closed his eyes, brow furrowed as he tried desperately to think.

It was many minutes he sat there. And then it hit him all of a sudden.

'Gods alive!' he cried out loud, sitting bolt upright.

'Husband?' a voice sailed from the next room. 'Is everything alright?'

Tristan flinched, quickly glancing in the direction his wife's voice had come from, before rising from his seat and running in the opposite direction and into the next room to find his guards.

'Get on your horses' he told a group of them in a hushed voice as he ran past.

'But we only just got here your highness.'

'I don't care' Tristan snapped back. 'I want you to search all the towns and villages nearest the exit of that cave. We have to find him.'

He left the house seconds later with his men, before his wife had a chance to hinder him.

By the time Olithia spotted him through one of the windows in an upstairs room, he was nothing more than a speck growing smaller on the horizon.

It was an uneventful journey from then on, from the river near the mouth of the cave, to the town called Hexham where they headed. Most of the time the group walked in complete silence, save for Shawn and Annabel. They talked quietly to each most of the way, speaking in animated whispers, and smiling to one another.

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