by Jon Kiln
Hendon nodded his understanding. “The bells are ringing. What does that mean?”
“It means that a storm is coming. A storm that will change the world for all of us. But we have to have faith that the future that we have visualized is the future that will come to pass.”
There was a gentle knock on the door.
“Yes?” said the Duchess. It was Ganry.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, Your Excellence.”Ganry bowed respectfully. “I think it’s time that Myriam and Hendon came with me.”
“You’re quite right, Ganry.”
“But we’re not leaving you, are we grandmother?” protested Myriam.
“No child, you’re not leaving me. Remember, we are stronger together. But I have asked Ganry to keep you both safe. No matter what happens you must listen to him and trust that he is looking after your best interests. Any day now our castle will be under siege, there is a strong chance that our walls will be breached. The castle keep is the most secure part. It will be the last to fall. If all else fails, beneath the keep is a tunnel that will take you away from the castle and then it will be up to Ganry to keep you safe.”
“Grandmother, I’m scared,” whispered Myriam, hugging the Duchess tightly.
“Turn that fear into determination. We must not be bowed, we must not crumble, the old world may fall but the House of Locke must rise from the ashes like a phoenix from the flames. From dusk until dawn my children!”
As Ganry led Myriam and Hendon out of the Duchess’s study and down towards the keep that would be their stronghold for the duration of the impending battle, the Duchess looked from the window of her study out across the plains of the Berghein Valley.
“A storm is coming,” she said quietly to herself. “A storm is coming.”
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