They called him traitor, but Rayne no longer heard the living. As he listened to the stones instead. Each night he carved runes along the riverbanks shapes of storm and warding, the language of his dreams.
The air thickened with whispers when he worked, low voices that hummed like thunder beneath the earth.Sometimes he saw faces in the mist, men long dead still bearing the mark of the ring.
He never ran from them. They were his only kin now. When the first Saxon ships came gliding through the dawn fog, he was already waiting, knife in hand, carving one last rune a warning, or a welcome.
This scene is part of “The Hollow Years – When the Eagles Fled.
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