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It wasn’t the pressing crowd of townsfolk trying to get a look at the Templars that had Lance short of breath. It wasn’t the agony and confusion of the weary soldiers, gasping and crying out in pain as they came out of their stone captivity that caused his fingers to clench into impotent fists. It wasn’t even the cold glare Lady Gwynfhar sent his way that caused the shiver to run down his spine as he retreated. It was the indecision on Gwin’s brow that sent Lance into a back-walking retreat.
She was going to agree to her mother’s plan. She had to agree. Otherwise, dozens of men would suffer every day when the sun came up.
There was no one else in the town who could do it. Aside from Morgan, who’d just recently gotten her powers back, Gwin was the strongest witch in town. Only she had
