Shade of Destiny (The Foreseeing) by Shannon M Yarnold Read Free Book Online

beyond forgiveness. It means we will need to fight to stop these monsters.” Lord Oprend looked around the tiny village, his face cold and hard as stone, “Every man must report to Oprend manor for instructions and recruitment conditions... That is all.”
         Why did Wynn dream so routinely of That Night? It was said by some that That Night, seventeen years ago, was the beginning of the end. According to the tales heard in snippets by gossip and rumour, it was the night Lord Oprend and his army had taken control of Inlo. Wynn could understand thinking about it every so often, in moments where her thoughts wandered, but to dream of it every night was something she could not explain or escape. Why did it matter so much to her?   For some it had been the defining moment of their lives, the night everything had become so much harder, but Wynn could not remember it, she had been a baby at the time.
         The Master suddenly grabbed Wynn’s arm, breaking her train of thought. His fingernails dug into her flesh, “Are you refusing my offer maid?”
          Wynn could think of nothing to say in her defence and her silence caused the Master’s grip to tighten, the rings on his fingers, coupled with his nails, felt like they would gouge the skin from her arm. Wynn swallowed, knowing she had offended him. He scowled at Wynn’s insubordination and in temper threw her arm down and with all his might slapped her across the face. She fell to the ground clumsily, her hands thrown out too late to break her fall. The other servant by the wardrobe shuffled nervously but remained silent, he knew his place and he did not wish to be on the receiving end of one of the Master’s infamous rages. The Master’s wife woke at the noise of Wynn hitting the wooden floor and she frowned, still half asleep.
          “Darling what happened?” She murmured, her eyebrows furrowed, not bothering to open her eyes.
          “Nothing dear, go back to sleep, the maid didn’t know her place,” the Master replied calmly, flexing his fingers which throbbed from the slap.
          His wife, satisfied with the Master’s answer, dozed off again. Wynn waited until her head stopped spinning before slowly getting up, remembering to curtsey even though every fibre of her being wished to spit and curse at the vile man who had struck her, then left the room, excusing herself. Wynn blinked back tears of pain as she ran down the marble steps and into the kitchen, ignoring any servant she passed. Cook looked up lazily as the door opened, choking back a cry of surprise as she saw Wynn, her lip was bleeding where the Master’s rings had caught it, a vivid red handprint clearly visible on her cheek. Gasping she ran to Wynn’s aid, leaving the soup she had been cooking to boil over. The kitchen boy quickly dropped the potato he had been peeling and ran over to clean up the mess. Wynn refused to cry as Cook sat her down on a chair in the corner of the kitchen, out of the way.
          “What happened?” Cook asked gently, whilst she fetched a cloth and carefully cleaned Wynn’s lip.
          Wynn winced every time the cold, sopping cloth touched her face, but explained through her swollen lip. When she had finished Cook shook her head, clenching the cloth tightly in anger, ignoring the dribbles of water that pooled beneath it, “That man is a bastard Wynn. If I could take your pain away I would, I’ve looked after you now for seventeen summers and I wish I could have given you a different life.”      
          Wynn smiled and hugged Cook; wiping the flowing blood from her lip on the back of her hand as she stood up. The other staff in the kitchen, who had all stopped working to listen to what had happened, quickly looked away and carried on with their tasks. They felt nothing for Wynn; they all knew how the Master treated her and their hearts were still cold. She had been different in their eyes from the day she had been brought to