She laughed in my face and called m

She laughed in my face and called me a fool. Until I held her to the water.” He twisted back to them, his frenzied expression triumphant and certain. “Then she begged for forgiveness, sure enough.”
“The water?” Bile rose, hot and fast, but Fiona tamped it down. She reached behind to grasp Margaret’s hand. Her sister pressed closed against her, and Fiona felt her trembling.
“Aislinn Sinclair tarnished her soul with sin most grievous, but my grace brought her back to purity. ’Twas I who slew the demons of her lust. My prayers and intervention which allowed her death without sin.”
Fiona’s tongue, numb inside her mouth, could scarcely form the words. Yet she forced herself to form them, certain now at his answer. “You killed her.”
The priest snorted, a crazed, choking sort of laughter. “I saved her! I baptized her in that creek so her soul might be free in the kingdom of heaven! But for me, she’d be writhing in the fires of hell.”
Fiona’s throat scalded at his boastful confession. “’Twas murder, you vile monster. And nothing less! ’Tis you who God will punish.” She pushed at him, heedless of the danger.
He swung back, flinging her against the wall. Her head bashed against the stone. The impact drove the breath from her lungs. Dazed but determined, she tried to get up. Margaret ran to her side, but the priest knocked her away as well and stood upon Fiona’s skirts.
“I see they’ve made a Campbell whore of you as well.” His voice rasped, hot and rough. His eyes went glassy with rage and his twisted notion of morality.
Dread, heavy and dark as death itself, pressed down upon Fiona. Margaret rose slowly, looking from Fiona to the door as a commotion sounded in the bailey. Shouts from every direction began to echo outside the chapel.
The priest bent over, his breath a fetid stink upon Fiona’s face. “If Campbell bastards breach our gate, the soul of every dead Sinclair will be a curse on you. You led us to this!”
The disturbance grew louder. Fiona could not tell who shouted, or even from whence it came, but she prayed the king’s men had found their way in.
The priest grabbed her chin and pinched with one bony hand. “You are as worthless as your mother, you traitorous whelp.”
He reached back and grabbed the lantern with his other hand. In one swift motion, he flung it down against the tapestry piled on the ground. The old fabric smoldered but a second and then burst into flames. Margaret screamed and jumped to stomp it out, but Father Bettney rose and slapped her hard, knocking her to the ground once more.
Fiona scuttled to the side, away from the fire, but thought only of getting close to Margaret. Fear replaced her anger. He meant to kill them both, and none would save them, for she had failed in her duty. And her child would perish along with them.
The shouts outside grew more distinct, closer and more urgent. The priest cast a glance into the chapel. He turned back and picked up the keys up from the floor, and his hateful gaze came back to Fiona. Her heart nearly paused. She could not breathe or call for help. And where was Genevieve?
He pulled the extra robes from the wall and threw them to the burning pile. “’Tis fitting, I suppose, that you should die by flame.”
He stepped out of the sacristy and slammed the door. The metal scrape of lock and key scratched the air. The sound of something heavy crashed against the wood, and Fiona wondered if he’d tipped the altar over toward the door. Smoke began to fill the room as the robes ignited. She jumped from her spot and shoved with all her might against the door. It would not budge. They were trapped.
“She should have reached us by now,” John said, rising up to stare toward Sinclair Hall. They’d worked on the latch from their side for nearly an hour to no avail. The door stood firm, and they were no closer to reaching the chapel.
Myles’s agitation mounted, his worry growing as the sky darkened. “We cannot wait any longer. The king will storm the front gate soon. Take us to the place where we might climb the wall.”
He signaled to the men. In seconds, each was on his feet and running toward Sinclair Hall.
“’Tis there.” John pointed as they ran. “See the spot that’s lower than the rest?”
Myles could just barely make it out in the dusk and shadows, but sure enough, he saw a dip in the stone wall. They ran until they reached the closest corner of the keep and then moved silently along the wall. No shouts of alarm sounded from overhead, and Myles offered up his thanks to God that they had reached this point. On they went until they stood just below the crumbled spot of the curtain wall.
“What lies directly on the other side?” Myles said to John.
“The granary. If a handful of us can get to the roof, we can wait there until we hear the king’s men at the gate,” John answered.
Myles eyed the wall. There was no way to get all of them up and over, but standing on the shoulders of another, a few could scale it.

Hasil (Bahasa Indonesia) 1:

Dia tertawa di wajah saya dan memanggil saya bodoh. Sampai aku memegang air." Dia memutar kembali kepada mereka, ekspresi hiruk pikuk kemenangan dan tertentu. "Maka ia memohon untuk pengampunan, tentu saja.""Air?" Empedu mawar, panas dan cepat, tapi Fiona dipadatkan. Dia mencapai di belakang untuk memahami Margaret tangan. Adiknya ditekan tertutup terhadap dirinya, dan Fiona merasa gemetar nya.' Aislinn Sinclair ternoda jiwanya dengan dosa yang paling pedih, tetapi kasih karunia saya dibawa kembali ke kemurnian. ' Sungguh aku yang membunuh Roh-roh jahat dari nafsu nya. Saya doa dan intervensi yang memungkinkan kematiannya tanpa dosa."Fiona di lidah, mati rasa di dalam mulutnya, hampir tidak dapat membentuk kata-kata. Namun dia memaksa dirinya untuk membentuk mereka, sekarang tertentu di jawabannya. "Anda membunuh dirinya."Imam snorted, gila, tersedak semacam tawa. "Aku menyelamatkan dia! Aku dibaptis dirinya di sungai itu sehingga jiwanya mungkin gratis di kerajaan surga! Tapi bagi saya, ia akan menjadi geliatan akan pandanggan di api neraka."Tenggorokan dariotto tersiram air panas di pengakuannya sombong. "' Sungguh pembunuhan, Rakasa keji Anda. Dan tidak kurang! "Tis Anda yang Allah akan menghukum." Dia mendorong padanya, lalai dari bahaya.Ia mengayunkan kembali, melemparkan dia ke dinding. Kepalanya memukul terhadap batu. Dampak melaju nafas dari paru-parunya. Linglung tapi ditentukan, dia mencoba untuk bangun. Margaret berlari ke sisinya, tetapi imam mengetuk dia pergi serta dan berdiri di atas dariotto rok.“I see they’ve made a Campbell whore of you as well.” His voice rasped, hot and rough. His eyes went glassy with rage and his twisted notion of morality.Dread, heavy and dark as death itself, pressed down upon Fiona. Margaret rose slowly, looking from Fiona to the door as a commotion sounded in the bailey. Shouts from every direction began to echo outside the chapel.The priest bent over, his breath a fetid stink upon Fiona’s face. “If Campbell bastards breach our gate, the soul of every dead Sinclair will be a curse on you. You led us to this!”The disturbance grew louder. Fiona could not tell who shouted, or even from whence it came, but she prayed the king’s men had found their way in.The priest grabbed her chin and pinched with one bony hand. “You are as worthless as your mother, you traitorous whelp.”He reached back and grabbed the lantern with his other hand. In one swift motion, he flung it down against the tapestry piled on the ground. The old fabric smoldered but a second and then burst into flames. Margaret screamed and jumped to stomp it out, but Father Bettney rose and slapped her hard, knocking her to the ground once more.Fiona scuttled to the side, away from the fire, but thought only of getting close to Margaret. Fear replaced her anger. He meant to kill them both, and none would save them, for she had failed in her duty. And her child would perish along with them.The shouts outside grew more distinct, closer and more urgent. The priest cast a glance into the chapel. He turned back and picked up the keys up from the floor, and his hateful gaze came back to Fiona. Her heart nearly paused. She could not breathe or call for help. And where was Genevieve?He pulled the extra robes from the wall and threw them to the burning pile. “’Tis fitting, I suppose, that you should die by flame.”He stepped out of the sacristy and slammed the door. The metal scrape of lock and key scratched the air. The sound of something heavy crashed against the wood, and Fiona wondered if he’d tipped the altar over toward the door. Smoke began to fill the room as the robes ignited. She jumped from her spot and shoved with all her might against the door. It would not budge. They were trapped.“She should have reached us by now,” John said, rising up to stare toward Sinclair Hall. They’d worked on the latch from their side for nearly an hour to no avail. The door stood firm, and they were no closer to reaching the chapel.Myles’s agitation mounted, his worry growing as the sky darkened. “We cannot wait any longer. The king will storm the front gate soon. Take us to the place where we might climb the wall.”He signaled to the men. In seconds, each was on his feet and running toward Sinclair Hall.“’Tis there.” John pointed as they ran. “See the spot that’s lower than the rest?”Myles could just barely make it out in the dusk and shadows, but sure enough, he saw a dip in the stone wall. They ran until they reached the closest corner of the keep and then moved silently along the wall. No shouts of alarm sounded from overhead, and Myles offered up his thanks to God that they had reached this point. On they went until they stood just below the crumbled spot of the curtain wall.“What lies directly on the other side?” Myles said to John.“The granary. If a handful of us can get to the roof, we can wait there until we hear the king’s men at the gate,” John answered.Myles eyed the wall. There was no way to get all of them up and over, but standing on the shoulders of another, a few could scale it.