Sir Beathan had also witnessed Lady Ashlynn's miracle. The young Templar's face was the color of chalk, and his grip on his sword had tightened until the leather of his glove creaked. The verse she'd used had invoked both the sun and sacred fire, and the miracle she'd performed was as great as any he'd ever seen from a High Priest or Abbot, if not greater.
But the words were strange and foreign, and her invocation of leaves and fines sounded blasphemous at best, and heretical at worst. He'd seen great miracles performed before, but never this easily or with such a strange prayer.
