Knight of Runes Read Online Free PDF Page A

Jacobean and Caroline eras, the inn was warm and cordial.
    She read the notes George Hughes provided about the inn as she enjoyed a light salad, chilled wine and fresh fruit. His notes mentioned the family’s close ties to Fayne Manor through marriage.
    She left Autumn Chase in plenty of time to get to Fayne Manor and look through the library before her appointment with Mr. Hughes.
    The last leg of the trip took her off the main road meandering through a forest. She slowed down to enjoy the scenery. The play of light through the trees along with the rich smell of the forest soothed and relaxed her.
    The road followed the long gentle roll of the hill and rounded a bend. Expecting to see more trees, Rebeka was surprised to find an elevated meadow with a regal oak on the horizon. It was breathtaking. As she drove up the rise, the rest of the meadow came into sight behind the huge tree. She stopped the car. The hair on the back of her neck stood up as bits and pieces of her nightmare swam past her.
    She checked Hughes’ notes. Oak Meadow, Private Property and Part of the Fayne Manor National Trust was clearly marked. She took her foot off the brake and slowly moved on looking for a more convenient place to stop. She pulled onto a wide shoulder and turned the car off. Not moving her hands, she rested her head on the steering wheel, waiting for the butterflies in her stomach to quiet down.
    A cold chill ran up her back. She got out of the car and, with guarded steps, walked to the edge of the meadow. Her body was rigid as she fought to stay calm. Now was not the time to lose control.
    She shook herself, sending the tension scattering. This was not a nightmare. There was nothing to fear. Annoyed with herself, she turned and stared at the signpost. Her hands fisted so tightly that her nails bit into her palms. Had she been here before? Was that why she had dreamed about it? It would explain a great deal if that was the case. She stomped down the foot path to the signpost and ran her hands over the rough surface, relieved to feel the solidness of the stone. Vines obscured the badly worn engraving. To get a better look at it, she carefully pulled away the vegetation. She took out her camera and snapped pictures of the signpost and, as an afterthought, the meadow, the oak and a beautiful weeping willow to the east. Always the researcher, she hurried back to the car and got her supplies. She wanted to make a stone rubbing.
    Using almost all the water from the bottle in her pouch, she cleaned the debris off the stone, taking special care with the engraving. When the stone was ready, she taped the tracing paper in place and, starting at the bottom, worked her way up. As she rubbed the crayon over the stone and paper, the engraving began to materialize, “Fayne Manor.”
    She finished and checked her watch. She couldn’t believe the time. It was three o’clock.
    She hurried back to the car, opening the trunk remotely with the key fob. She quickly stowed the rubbing and tools. Her back toward the meadow, she straightened at the sensation of being watched. She turned cautiously, for a brief moment afraid of what she would see. Finding nothing out of place, she laughed and shook her head at the ridiculousness of her imagination. She got in the car and sped off toward her appointment. As she turned the bend her eyes caught a glimpse of a shadow in the rearview mirror. A lone figure, emerging from under the oak’s branches. When she looked again, it was gone.

Chapter Three
    She drove across the Stone River Bridge, uncertainty clouding her mind. Perhaps this isn’t such a good idea. She stopped the car in the middle of the road and grasped the wheel tightly, her knuckles turning white. Looking at them as if they were alien, she peeled her sweaty hands off the wheel and ran them down her skirt. Why didn’t I question my father more about Mother, about the family? We spoke about everything else, school, boys and sex, everything, just not