Sanctuary (Dominion) by Kris Kramer Read Free Book Online Page A

temples, "why have you brought me out here? I'm chasing a ghost." I sighed. He'd probably already disappeared into the fog, never to return. And here I was, a crazy fool with no idea where I was going or what I’d find when I got there. I'd followed him without any real notion of what I was chasing after and now my lack of foresight had left me stranded in the wilderness just ahead of a winter storm. Arkael was right, I should go home.
    But I couldn’t. This was a test. A test of faith, which was not something I could claim to be steadfast in. God had shown me a sign, but now I had to show Him that I was willing to follow it. Despite my lack of preparation, I'd come out here for a reason, and I couldn't let myself be deterred by something as trivial as Arkael's obstinate indifference. I took a deep breath, and dragged myself off the ground. I stretched my legs, patted the dirt off my backside, and continued north, toward my fate, whatever that may be. I would walk, as fast as I could manage, until I either found Arkael, or a comfortable place to stay for the night. Hopefully, I would find both.
    Likely, I would find neither.
    "So be it," I told myself. "If this is my path, then I will chase the ghost."
     
     
    *****
     
     
    A few hours later my determined pace had turned into a resentful plodding, and I had to keep my cloak pulled tight around my neck to fight off the chilled air. I’d barely noticed the weather until the sun began its eventual approach toward the horizon. The tumult at the village followed by constant movement had kept me warm enough for a while. But as midday turned into afternoon, the weather started to bite and cold seeped into my limbs, forcing me to rub my hands together and occasionally pinch my nose and ears. The threatening dark clouds that hung over the sea this morning were almost on top of me, and an icy wind whipped through the greenish-brown hills. Thankfully, I'd brought an extra robe with me, but I wasn't sure how much longer I could hold out without stopping to make a fire.
    I groaned, tired of dwelling on obstacles, so instead I thought of the stories Humbert would tell when he had a little wine in him, trying to raise my spirits. Just last week he’d recounted a trip he'd taken to Brittany a few years ago. The lord he'd stayed with had an unnatural obsession with hairless women, forcing the ladies of his court to shave their heads like men, yet still parading them around in fancy gowns. Humbert thought it hilarious, and his infectious laughter kept everyone around him smiling all night. That old priest had always been an excellent storyteller, captivating a room with his words, along with his subtle embellishments, and his travels throughout the world gave him a bevy of stories to tell.
    I thought back to his journal, and it saddened me to know that Humbert would never see it, or its treasured tales, again, but the more I dwelled on it, the more I wondered why anyone would steal it in the first place. The parchment had some value, but not to illiterate thugs, and if that’s really what they wanted, they could have taken mine, too. But a lot of what the raiders did made no sense, like killing everyone in the church. The entire ordeal was so terribly pointless. But that was always the case with violent, unreasonable men, and unfortunately, this world was full of them.
    A short, thick-bodied man appeared on the hill in front of me, catching me by surprise. He wore a long coat made of fox fur that hung almost to his knees, cinched around his torso with a leather belt, dark wool pants, leather boots and a fur cowl pulled low over a hairy, bearded face. A sickly horse followed him, loaded down with tied-off stacks of furs and pelts from a variety of animals.
    He slowed as we approached each other on the path.
    “Priest?” he asked. I nodded out of habit. “Begging your blessing, Father.” He bowed his head, waiting.
    “Of course," I said. My blessing wouldn’t carry the weight of an