If not for the knight / Debbie Boek. pdf book download

Title: If not for the knight / Debbie Boek.
Description: [Lafayette, New York] : Wolf Rider Publishing, [2017] | Series: Knights are forever
series ; book #1
Identifiers: ISBN 9780960077519 | ISBN 9780960077564 (ebook)

(✍️ This article is collected from this book 📚 (All Credit To Go Real Hero The Author of this book 📖) 🙏 Please buy this book hardcopy from anyway.)

In This book_____________________
In 1066 the Normans brutally defeated the Saxons and William the Conqueror was crowned the King of England.

Even though their country now belonged to William, the Saxons continued to rebel against his rule. But they were no match for the seasoned Norman knights who ruthlessly put down the rebellions.

Against his wishes, Calder Wyndym, one of the king’s most valued knights, becomes Overlord of a small village in the North. He is tasked to build a castle to protect the King’s lands and to find a way for everyone under his protection to learn to live together peacefully.

Calder endeavors to follow his King’s decree but, in the process of doing so, he gives his heart to a lovely, young Saxon woman. Their relationship causes an even deeper rift between the Normans and Saxons.

Will the strength of their love be able to overcome the hatred and prejudice? Or will the deceit, disrespect and betrayals from both sides tear the lovers apart?

Northern England 1067
Regan walked slowly back toward the village, admiring the flowers
in her basket, pleased at how the yellow primroses complimented
the blue of the wild hyacinth that she had finally been able to locate.
She had wandered far while collecting them and would surely be
punished for being away from the cottage for the whole day and
neglecting her chores. She was confident though, that she would be
able to convince her father to be lenient. After all, the flowers were for
her bridal headpiece; she had wanted to find the prettiest, freshest
flowers possible. Surely, he would not be angry about that.
She sighed deeply, unable to hide, even from herself, the heaviness
in her heart. She had been promised to Edgar when they were but
children. Both had known that they would be married one day. It was
just hard to accept that the day had finally arrived.

Edgar was a good man and had pleasing features. He was well
respected and worked hard in the Lord's stables. The cottage that he
built for them was not large, but it had room enough. He would be able
to care well for her and the children that they would one day have
together.

The reason for her melancholy eluded Regan. After all, it should be
the happiest time of her life. She knew that she had no choice in the
matter; it was the way that things were done. There was nothing wrong
with Edgar and she was very fond of him, but she could not help but
feel sad that this was how it had to be.
In her daydreams, Regan always envisioned being swept away by
passion and love, but try as she might, she could not make herself feel
anything more for Edgar than friendship and affection. She had gone
to pick the flowers hoping that it would help settle the matter in her
own mind, but she was not sure if it had.

Smiling wistfully as she made her way through the field of
wildflowers, she decided that perhaps she was just being silly

Maybe love was not important to a good marriage. Or, perhaps her
mother was right and love was something that developed and grew
between two married people as they carried on their lives together.
Lost in her musings about the impending wedding, Regan did not at
first register the noises she was hearing, screaming and crying,
sounds of distress that were coming from the direction of her village.
She climbed atop a knoll, where she could look down into the valley
and see the village below. To her wide-eyed disbelief, great plumes of
dark smoke billowed from some of the cottages and people, her
people, were fighting with, or running from, men on horseback.
Momentarily stunned and frozen to the spot where she stood, Regan
watched in horror as her fellow villagers were struck down one after
the other, their handmade weapons ineffectual against the attacking
army.

Normans, her brain screamed, as her mind and body began to
function again. Regan felt her heart begin to race and ran as fast as
her slippered feet would carry her down the slope toward the village.
“Please let mother and father be alright,” she prayed as she flew
down the hill. The circlet fell from her hair, the plait loosening enough
that her long, copper-colored curls blew around her face as she ran.
Unable to see clearly, her foot caught in the skirt of her long, linen
kirtle. She pitched forward and her temple collided with a large rock.
The basket of flowers flew from her hand and the screams faded as
the world around her went black.
“Draco,” Calder's voice boomed across the courtyard, “are all of the
men accounted for?”
“They are, Milord,” he responded.

The males of the village huddled, unarmed, in a large group in the
center of the courtyard. Mingled among the soldiers who sought to
defend their Lord's lands were farmers and craftsmen, who had also
taken up arms against the Normans.
The knights were awe-inspiring on their large destriers, both men
and horses covered in protective armor from head to toe. Most of the
knights had removed the conical helmets that they wore during the.