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A Bell For Valor: Beyond Time, #2
A Bell For Valor: Beyond Time, #2
A Bell For Valor: Beyond Time, #2
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A Bell For Valor: Beyond Time, #2

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A body and a treasure reopen a centuries old feud.

A bog body found in a Scottish construction zone generates an interest in the wrong people. Mari is on her own for the holiday with only her cat, Quinna for company. The discover she has been asked to investigate appears to interest the wrong people. Locked in her garage, Mari and Quinna are under siege.  

LanguageEnglish
Release dateMay 21, 2018
ISBN9781386722106
A Bell For Valor: Beyond Time, #2
Author

Holly Barbo

Holly's world is shaped by her love of family, the beauty of the nature and an irrepressible curiosity that frequently has her turning over rocks and questioning what she finds. This sometimes sends the reader down a rabbit hole into an alternate view of the world than what they expected. Holly’s mind can be an interesting place. To get the latest news just subscribe to Holly's newsletter. The button is on the right of the page.: http://hollybarbo-books.com

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    Book preview

    A Bell For Valor - Holly Barbo

    First Edition, 2017

    License Notes

    This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the book store and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

    Copyright © 2017 Holly Barbo

    Cover design copyright Darkmantle Designs

    All rights reserved. Published by Paper Gold Publishing

    No part of this book may be reproduced in any form of by any electronic or mechanical means, including information and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review. This is a work of fiction, names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

    ~ Scotland - Early December - In the Year of Our Lord: 1336 ~

    ––––––––

    The late fall day was running out of light, complicated with a chilling fog. Darach and his horse skirted the edge of the boggy fen. Without warning, the gelding turned his majestic head and blew through his nostrils in alarm. A swift glance in his peripheral vision brought a curse to his lips. Darach’s mouth tightened at the sight of six horsemen behind, with drawn bows, and coming to the right side of him, effectively blocking his way from the open moors. Knowing the odds were slim he leaned forward and kicked his steed into motion. Find your path boy and let’s outwit these whore sons!

    His sure-footed gelding broke into a run angling deeper into the boggy ground. Darach, stretched low in the saddle, reached a hand back to release the precious saddlebags and pull them in front of him, protecting them with his body.

    Shouting came from his pursuers. Stop! Cut’m off!

    He snatched a glance behind him. The thieves were gaining, charging at him from the solid ground.

    Lying flat on his horse’s back he spoke to the beast, urging, Come on Kail. They can’t match you in these marshes. Let’s lose them! They darted over the uneven ground at a pace Darach knew was dangerous. He could feel Kail’s body lurch subtly when a hoof hit softer footing. They needed to get distance. Darach gritted his teeth. Odds had just shifted. They needed a miracle for him to keep his promise to his liege.

    Horse hooves thundered nearer almost to the edge of the deadly fen, accompanied by the whoops of the riders.

    His gelding leaped over marshy spots, focused on the heather lumps and occasional reed clusters. Running for his life, he stumbled a few times, pulling the hoof free from the sucking mud and sprinted on.

    The riders crowed in glee at every stumble, sure their prey would be captured.

    One rider stopped at the edge of the swampy ground, notched an arrow, and let it fly. In the failing light, the arrow still came too close. Darach felt the brush of it across his shoulder.

    More arrows.

    Kail stumbled again.

    The dark grey light had dwindled. Darach prayed for the darkness and mist to hide him. The difference between marsh and air couldn’t be seen, only sensed. To keep up this pace was beyond dangerous. Kail could break a leg or stumble into the worst of the fen and become ensnared in the bog. To stop now would be certain death from the bowmen, who were still shooting.

    "Do

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