Hope Bytheway

A sneaky peek inside my book - Wandering Strong

Chapter Four - In the Hollow of the Dark (1593)

The scream shattered the silence; deafening, raw.

For a moment, she didn’t know where it had come from. Then the truth hit: it was her own voice. Darkness closed in, thick and suffocating. She wasn’t alone. A steady breath sounded beside her. Warm fingers gently clasped her own.

A voice emerged from the shadows; soft, urgent.
“It’s alright. Not long now.”

Pain throbbed through her legs, sharp and relentless. She tried to move but found herself wedged tight in a narrow space.

“You can’t move,” the voice said again, calm but firm. “Your legs… they’re too badly damaged.”

Panic surged, squeezing the air from her lungs.

“We’re going to help you, but you must keep still.” The voice coaxed, gentle but insistent. “Trust me. Please.”

That tone calmed her, just enough. What had happened?
A fog of memory, an attack from behind… a shove… then the terrifying fall.

“I must leave you for a while,” the voice whispered near her ear, breath warm. “But I’ll be back. I promise.”

A soft kiss brushed her forehead.
“I love you.”

Footsteps echoed on stone, receding. Then silence.
She was alone again. Panic clawed at her, rising fast.
But those final words, whispered, tender, gave her something to hold.
A fragile thread in the dark.

“I love you too,” she breathed, barely audible.

The pain rose, crested, and then pulled her under.
Into oblivion.


In a small, weathered cottage nestled at the edge of the dark wood, three figures gathered, their voices low but urgent in heated discussion.

“The lady can’t take much more,” said the first man, his bright tunic and trousers a jarring contrast to the gloom. His voice was edged with desperation. “Every day worsens her chances.”

A pixie-faced woman with dark, cropped hair stood rigid beside him, wrapped in a long brown wool dress that shielded her from neck to toe.

“It won’t be long now,” she said, her eyes flickering with cautious hope. “He’ll believe she’s dead. Then we can move her to safety.”

The third, a tall man with mousy-blonde hair and deep-set eyes, placed a steady hand on the younger man’s shoulder, offering a faint smile.

“The lady will be fine,” he said with quiet conviction. “But you know the timing must be exact.”

The first man’s expression twisted with anguish. He nodded slowly.

“I know. I just want this nightmare to end. None of us is safe until it’s done. He will hunt us down… I should know.”

“Come, sit by the fire. You look exhausted,” said the taller man, his long white sleeves visible beneath a dull blue, sleeveless jacket. His voice was gentle but firm.

“I have to get back to her,” the first man protested, eyes darting toward the door.

“You need to conserve your strength,” the woman said sharply, though her gaze held concern. “The journey ahead will be treacherous. You’ll need every ounce of your wits to see it through.”

With that, she guided him toward a sturdy wooden chair beside the open hearth.

He sank, letting the warmth of the fire curl around him, the flames crackling and popping in a soothing rhythm. From a large pot suspended above the blaze came the rich aroma of stewed vegetables, mingled with the soft, calming scent of rosemary. Closing his eyes, he let the sounds and scents begin to soothe him.

“She’s lucky,” the second man murmured. “To have someone who loves her so deeply.”

“He wasn’t always like this,” the woman replied with a faint smile. “Always claimed he was content alone. But since she shared her feelings these last few months… well, he’s truly changed.”

“Mmm. He doesn’t make it easy,” the man chuckled softly.

“True love rarely does.” A knowing light danced in her eyes.

“Oh, I’m not so sure,” he said, pulling her close for a sudden, tender kiss.

She turned away, ladling steaming broth into two rough-hewn wooden bowls, and they settled at the small, worn table.

“How long until it’s over?” he asked between mouthfuls.

“A couple more nights,” she replied thoughtfully. “I only hope her injuries heal enough by then. Though I believe the help that’s coming… will be beyond anything we could imagine.” Her voice trembled slightly with awe.

“We’ll have to leave too,” he said quietly. “Is there any chance we’ll ever return?”

She shook her head, eyes fixed on the half-empty bowl in front of her.

“No, my sweet. And if the tyrant finds us before it’s done, none of us will survive. You know he’s already hunting my blood.”

He reached across the table and took her hand, fingers curling gently around hers.

“I know, my love. I know.”

He gave a small, reassuring smile.

“It’s just… this life is all I’ve ever known. If I’m honest, the future scares me.”

She frowned, eyes soft.

“Yes, but at least we have a future. Right now, we don’t.”

A heavy silence lingered as they ate, each lost in their thoughts.