home

search

Prologue

  The sun slunk behind the castle's hill, and so began the night Crosset prayed would end the famine.

  Darkness swallowed the men in the rear as the company swung around leafless trees, batted aside low-hanging branches, sloshed through muddied, half-melted snow. Crossbows and pitchforks jostled on their backs, falling loose from fraying ropes they had looped underarm as makeshift harnesses.

  Bailiff Johnsy's plan was straightforward—get the boy, and they would get food.

  He didn't give any directions for everything in between.

  The men had pooled the last dregs of their oil to feed the lamp held by Draken Armorheim, their leader. Draken had burned most of it leading them in circles. Perhaps he should pour what little was left onto kindling and wait out the night—but how many more of their children, women, and elders would succumb to hunger during that night?

  No, it all ends tonight.

  The lamplight illuminated a fallen tree on their path. Even sideways, its girth reached Draken's midriff. The corpse of a young branch sprung from its side, ending in a swirl like a pig's tail. Draken sighed in relief at the familiar sight. He set his lamp on the log, preparing for the climb. He'd swung one leg over when a commotion broke out behind—

  "Move it, pig! Or I'll snap your neckbone in half!"

  The hulking bald man snarled as he gave the leash a vicious tug. The fat little boy at the other end lurched to the pull. His muddied face contorted in pain as the noose cinched against his windpipe. Having regained balance and breath, he surfaced with a sneer,

  "Spare me your empty threats. You need me alive to bargain with my father."

  His eyes gleamed silver with bravado, but tremors bled into his voice. Smirking, the man hunkered down before his hostage,

  "Your body does mighty fine. Skinned, quartered, butchered, diced. Fried in lard scraped from the wall of your belly. First meal in weeks for me boys—"

  "—First and last, Krulstaff!"

  Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

  Draken marched over as the boy blanched in terror. Krulstaff rounded on him. Draken chastised himself to stand firm as he locked eyes with the giant,

  "Chione ain't even half done with us. We keep the boy safe in Crosset, his father keeps us fed through winter. That's the plan!" He explained to his troublesome neighbor for the umpteenth time. Krulstaff rolled his eyes at the Heights.

  "Why don't you give me that, Armorheim?" He spat, his spade-like hand swiping for the lamp. "Unlike your son-of-a-whore in Meriton, me sons are dying while we muck around in this blithering forest!"

  Blood drained from Draken's wind-battered cheeks. He snatched Krulstaff by the collar,

  "Don't you dare—!"

  The other men hauled Draken off Krulstaff before he retaliated.

  "He's got a point, Draken," huffed Brodel the Butcher. His free arm hooked firmly around Draken's, he indicated the sniffling boy with his pig-butchering knife, "Dun need him awake. We'll move faster with this manure sack on our backs than oozing down here."

  Draken glanced at Brodel, swallowing his anger as he remembered all that was at stake. Heaving a frustrated sigh, he gestured carelessly at the boy,

  "Cuff him one on the noggin—with the handle, mind! And give Krulstaff the blade if he dun't shut it about me son."

  After one last glare at the seething Krulstaff, he barked at the remaining men, "Move out!"

  Before Brodel even took one step towards their squealing captive, a sharp crack rent the silence. The men turned as one to the wall of trees. Crossbows raised and pointed, step by step they retreated—then an arrow sprung from Krulstaff's bow.

  "For the love of—!"

  The scream of a young girl drowned out Draken's feverish curse. He knew that scream!

  "Meya? That you, lass?"

  Draken dashed in to see to the poor thing. A gust of wind sent him flying backward as something barreled past, crashing through the trees in a blinding flash of white. Then, the shroud of night swallowed the forest whole.

  The moon hadn't risen. Their lamp was lost. The only pinpricks of light were two disembodied glowing green eyes, hanging high above.

  The eyes darted in unseen sockets, glaring at each man spread out below as though the being saw them clear as day, then blinked out as it roared in rage and pain.

  Earth shook. Trees shuddered. Birds fled into the night. Out of the black, blasted a fan of orange flames. The men flattened themselves to the snowdrift for dear life as bone-melting heat scorched the tips of their hair, leaving the inferno to collide with the trees behind.

  Dying branches burst into flames, flooding the clearing with a sight so terrible, the men wished to be cast back into the dark—

  A reptilian creature armored in gleaming metallic scales, trees trampled like hay under its silver claws. Acid-green eyes blazed above a long, narrow muzzle. Tendrils of smoke trickled through its silver fangs.

  Its claws carved deep welts into the earth as its leathery wings sprung open. It dashed forth, snatching the stunned young boy between its talons and soaring off towards the west, trailing the boy's pathetic screams as it disappeared into the night sky.

Recommended Popular Novels