Behold the Dawn by K.M. Weiland Page A

together, and waited to see his reaction. When Lord William’s breath rasped deep in his chest and his lips silently formed a name, Annan knew that here, at least, was one who had not forgotten him.
    “Lord William.” His own voice was low.
    The earl raised his hand from Mairead’s, and Annan stepped forward to clasp it. “I feared you dead,” William rasped.
    He referred to St. Dunstan’s, Annan knew. That was the last they had seen each other, the last either knew of the other. But Annan brushed over it. “The lady says you seek Matthias of Claidmore.”
    William’s eyebrow lifted just slightly. He darted a glance at Mairead and then nodded. “Aye—” The word was a hacking cough. He patted his wife’s hand. “Leave us, child.”
    Lady Mairead lifted her skirt and rose to her feet, her eyes seeking Annan’s in an expression that was as much a plea of hope as it was an admission of despair.
    Lord William turned his head to look at the priest and the serving boy. “Leave us, all of you.”
    When they had gone, dropping the tent flap back across the cold expanse of night, the earl’s eyes found Annan’s, and he beckoned with his fingers, his arm not rising from the pallet. “Come to me.”
    Annan drew a step nearer and knelt.
    “I prayed we would meet again.” A smile carved its way through the slack skin of the earl’s face.
    Annan said nothing. He had thought never to see Lord William again. And now to have found him like this… dying.
    “You’ve seen the Baptist?” William asked.
    Annan forced a nod. “In Italy.”
    “Then you know?”
    “That Father Roderic wishes to eradicate all memories of St. Dunstan’s? Aye.”
    William sighed, and phlegm rattled in his throat. “He has hunted us like dogs.” Still not raising his hand from the coverlet, he gestured with his fingers to the wound in his breast. “And now here I lie. The bishop fears the repercussions of what happened there more than you can know.”
    “So the Baptist told me.”
    Behind Annan, the fire hissed and snapped.
    “And what—” The earl caught a cough before it could tear his throat, then paused to swallow. “And what is the news you bring me?”
    “What news do you wish?”
    “I’ve heard whispers that Matthias is dead.” Life burned a little harder behind the brown eyes. “Is that true?”
    “It’s true.” He met the earl’s gaze.
    “The Baptist insists that cannot be.” The words had a hard, raspy edge. William stopped another cough from forming, but Annan could see the quiver in his chest, the specks of saliva gathering in the corners of his mouth.
    “And if he did live? What could he do?” Annan said.
    “He is perhaps the only man the bishop truly fears.”
    “What about the Baptist?”
    William gave his head a shake. “Roderic fears the Baptist only by proxy. The Baptist will bring Matthias. That is what Roderic fears.”
    Annan shook his head. “The Baptist wants vengeance for what was done to him sixteen years ago.”
    “Did you know I took him into my home after Roderic finished torturing him? He is not the same man he was before his injuries. His mind and his soul were touched just as his body was.”
    Annan waited.
    “But if vengeance were his only motive, surely his revival would not have borne such fruits as it has? Rousing the people? Mass repentance? Conversions and pilgrimages by the score?”
    “I’ve yet to see these fruits. All I’ve seen is that this drive for vengeance is all that’s kept him alive. He has eaten it, breathed it, lapped it up until he is drunk with it.”
    “Then why wait sixteen years? What need has he to bring all that remains of St. Dunstan’s to this place?”
    “He’s seeking to recreate what happened that day. He believes Matthias should have killed Roderic, so now he will do anything to at last make it happen. So he can witness it.”
    William looked at him askance, but another cough seized his innards. His body shuddered with the force of his hacking,