The Goodland Kronicles, Book One: The Hills(ON HOLD)

Chapter Five

Chapter Five:

    Vita buried her head in Richard’s shoulder, not caring that tears so freely flooded down her face, that she choked out sobbed sorrowfully. Richard tried to comfort her, but it was in vain. The Manor was the only home she had ever known, and Lord Michael the only father she had ever had. And she had just lost them both. He stroked her hair and held her tight as she wept and cursed. After a while, she stopped and they sat down.

    “Whoever did this is going to pay, “ Vita promised, her voice soft and harsh. The sun was beginning to go down. They could see two of the horses that had escaped were galloping around in the dip between their hill and the next one.

    “C’mon, “ Richard murmured, “It’ll be dark soon. I trust what Lord Michael was telling us to do. The horses are gonna be our fastest way of getting somewhere, “ Lord Michael highly dislike and thus had no cars, motor boats or jets, though he could certainly afford them, “If we are going to get to The Hills, we need to get somewhere safe to sleep. Stonebury Abbey’ll be the closest place we can get to tonight.” He stood up and pulled her to her feet. He whistled to the horses, Opal and Vinny. Opal was a pretty all black mare and Vinny a handsome brown and white gelding. They didn’t have saddles or bridles. But Richard and Vita were grateful for their stroke of luck that two horses had conveniently broken loose and were nearby and trusted them.  

    Vita clambered up on Vinny’s back and Richard slid up onto Opal. The horses grunted and snorted but made no move to buck the teens off. Vita buried her hands in Vinny’s mane and spurred him to the North. Richard followed.

    “What will we do when we get to the Abbey?” Vita asked, straightening herself up after she almost slid off of Vinny’s back.

    “We go to the inn. Margie’ll give us lodging. She owes me after Mum saved her son from a bad fever.” That was true. Tiffany London was a renowned healer, skilled even in surgical measures. She had traveled to the little village when the innkeeper, Margeri Masony, had ridden with her near-dead son to Tiffany for healing. He was bouncing off the walls an hour later as if he had never been ill.

    Stonebury Abbey wasn’t actually an Abbey. It was a village built into the ruins of the old abbey.  It provided pre-built rooms that only needed tidying up and was the perfect setup for a growing town. The inn was built in the old rooms where the former inhabitants had housed. Its current citizens lived in the old monks’ quarters.

    Had she not been thinking about where her guardian was, Vita probably would have been wondering why she had chosen to wear slippers instead of boots. The floor was cold, and her silk slippers were starting to wear through.