Treasures - Book 4 The Frencolian Chronicles (complete)

Chapter 3

Luke rode like the wind. He wanted to get as close as he could to his home.

The earlier he arrived, the fewer people would be around, although most folks rose at sunup. He hoped to meet Sabin along the way. As Speed climbed the last hill, Luke was eager to look down from a safe distance on his beloved home.

His mind went back with pride to the beautiful Manor House and properties he should, one day inherit. He remembered the way his father had managed the affairs of the manor and the village. His father had ruled the small domain with wisdom and the area was a hive of profitable industry. Everyone had been involved in the work, including his father. Good measure was always given from the stores in the village of Chanoine. People came from near and far to buy wool, cloth, boots and many other goods because they knew they would get a good product and a fair deal.

Luke sighed. This was over. When Elliad claimed the throne, he also claimed the village and Manor House at Chanoine. Others had managed it and made sure that the demoted Baron Chatelain wasn't involved in anything of worth.

What the new king had not know then, the Chatelain family considered the Gospel Books and the spreading of the Words were the most important and valuable tasks of all.

How difficult it was for Luke to accept that Elliad was evil enough to have killed his gentle mother and God-fearing father. In Luke's thinking, it would have been better for them to have died of the plague than to have been murdered, killed like criminals.

Dismounting Speed, Luke tethered him to a tree near the top of the ridge. Leaning low, he climbed to the crest and peered across the slope towards his home. He ducked quickly; the area was a hive of activity. Soldiers were in all directions, perhaps hundreds of them!

Smashing, chopping sounds came to his ears; he peered up over the edge of the cliff then moved along a little to a place where grasses and undergrowth grew. Making a small gap, he saw men with axes swarming around the huge house, chopping at the wood walls. Others with ladders stood above stone-work to demolish anything made of wood.

It was his home!

Others carried out rugs, bowls, familiar tapestries, clothes and furniture. It was all Luke could do to restrain from shouting out in protest at the senseless destruction. He knew they were looking for the Gospel volumes. They likely would burn them, and the house, if they were found.

"He's mad!" Luke said aloud, "Stark-staring mad!" His heart pounded in his chest as anger surged through him.

Then, a voice like that of his father's spoke to his mind, It's only a house, Luke, there are more important things than just stuff...

He thought of Jobyna using the word, 'stuff' and knew she was right. He wished he hadn't left her. I must get food and get back there as soon as possible.

Looking back at his home, he saw that the Manor House was well on the way to being torn down. Tears of anger welled in his eyes. Forgetting his need to get food and return, he bowed his head and squeezed the tears to fall to the ground. Slivering back to a rock, he clenched his fists and pounded on it.

"One day, Elliad, I'll get even with you. You've taken my father, my mother, and now my home. I swear you'll pay for this!" To vent his emotions on Elliad gratified Luke's feelings of rage.

Dashing away his tears, he scanned at the scene again, taking in the uncountable numbers of soldiers. How outnumbered he was.

Luke realized the faster he left the scene, the safer he would be.

He did not have a sword or a bow. All he had was the dagger most young men carried, chiefly for skinning rabbits and such like. Suddenly he realised he should hate his dagger; it had been a gift from Elliad. He sought for a place in the under grow with soil beneath it. Using the dagger he carved out a deep little trough, deeper and deeper until he hit solid rock. Wiping the dagger on his sleeve, he put it in its sheath and placed it in the trough, covering it with small stones, then some larger. Pulling the undergrowth to cover the place, he lay on his back, feeling pleased. He had purged himself of the evil king's gift of bribery.