A Knight for the Archer

By Adonis Devereux

Sir Tristan is sent by King Arthur to forge official relations with the leader of the underground resistance, but when he meets the beautiful Captain Izzy, he loses his heart before anything else.

How can Tristan win Izzy, when they both have military obligations? They have to somehow transform the resistance into an army, and that doesn’t leave much time for love for the knight or the archer.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Evernight Publishing
• Release date: Dec 30, 2015
• ISBN: 9781772336429

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Copyright© 2015 Adonis Devereux

ISBN: 978-1-77233-642-9

Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

Editor: JC Chute

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

JMJ

A KNIGHT FOR THE ARCHER

Knight Moves, 2

Adonis Devereux

Copyright © 2015

Chapter One

There was just no way Tristan could have walked into Stirling. Even though he'd timed his exit from the Veil to take place at night, the streets still teemed with people. Young, brightly clad people: men with crew cuts and thin, painted women with gaunt faces. There was some kind of rally going on, and everyone must've come out for it.

Just as Sir Lancelot had informed him, Stirling––like all of Britain––was firmly in Morgana's grip and her goons were everywhere. Tristan, hidden behind the wall of a cottage on the outskirts of town, peeked out from around the corner. Sure enough, not far away loitered one of the Patrols. They laughed and pushed each other around. Two gripped iron pipes in their fists, and the others wore long knives in leather sheaths on their belts.

Keeping his eyes on the enemy, Tristan reached down and touched the pommel of his long sword. He'd use it if necessary, but he would rather just get where he was going without a fight. The question was how to do that? The hospital sat right in the middle of town, right where the rally gathered more and more people by the hour. Sprawled to the south of his position lay the gentle hills and fairways of a golf course. Tristan saw that as his best avenue of approach, for he knew from the maps he'd studied it would take him far enough into Stirling that he'd have to sprint only a few blocks to get to the Hospital. Or rather, what remained of it.

Lancelot had told Tristan the Patrols had burned the Hospital down, but it was still Tristan's best bet for getting in touch with the Wallace Brigade.

The young knight bounded across the dark golf course, and though there was no moon, he still pulled his cloak around him. He couldn't risk anyone catching a glimpse of the shimmering metallic weave of his tunic. The Patrols, after all, could be anywhere. Lancelot had encountered one almost as soon as he'd stepped from the Veil. But Tristan was more cautious, for his mission was not merely one of scouting. He actually needed to make contact with people on this side.

Tristan passed out of the golf course and into a small park, where he crouched among the trees alongside a wide road and waited for the parade to pass to the south. The people were flanked by six-man Patrols who neither cheered nor engaged in any merrymaking. The black attire of the thugs stood