Dark Men Dark Magic (3 Fantasy Series Starters)

By Aron Lewes

Be transported to the enchanted worlds of Dark Men Dark Magic, where magic thrives, twists surprise, and antiheroes lurk in the shadows.

 

 

A fussy mage, a grizzled warrior, and a brave barmaid team up to protect their village from an armor-clad madman in The Darkest Knight (The Black Knight Chronicles Book One).

 

Adventure begins in The Darker Ages (The Darker Ages book one), where Princess Arienne is captured by a crew of flirty young pirates. They're led by the wickedly charming Alfred du Bois, a man who takes nothing too seriously.

 

In Vixen's Chosen (The Fox and the Assassin Book One), an assassin rescues a shapeshifting kitsune from the clutches of a cruel kidnapper. The kitsune, having lost everything she held dear, believes the assassin is her soulmate.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Aron Lewes
• Release date: Aug 23, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223132370

Book preview

The Darkest Knight - Chapter One

The bespectacled mayor's body was possessed by shivers as his horse trotted closer to the veritable ocean of Fellestan soldiers. It was a chilly day, but no biting wind brought a tremble to his spine like the sight of the Black Knight, clad in onyx armor. Very few men had gazed upon the Black Knight's face. Even fewer knew his name. Most only knew enough to fear him, and the Mayor of Lullwood was no exception.

The mayor, Jack Soreton, was barely more than twenty, and had only been elected because no other man in his family still had a beating heart. Twenty years ago, his grandfather was the Mayor of Lullwood. Less than five years ago, his father held the title. Jack never thought it would be his job to save his family's city. He tried to ignore the tremors that scurried through him as he held up the white flag and approached the Fellestan horde.

Please! Jack cried. As he dismounted his gelding, his foot was briefly caught in the stirrup. When it was freed, he staggered closer to the motionless wall of Fellestan knights. I, uh... I need to speak to your leader, please!

The heavy armor of Fellestia's Black Knight ominously clinked as he made his way forward. His sword was out of its sheath and pointed at Jack, whose knees visibly trembled as he beheld the enemy officer.

"Speak," the Black Knight commanded. Only his eyes were visible beneath the black, horned helmet on his head.

I, uh... I-I-I... For the first few seconds, Jack was capable only of stutters. He was shamed by his speechlessness, and he was glad no allies were around to witness his tongue's failure to function. He dragged a hand through his curly blonde hair, drew a fortifying breath, and raised the white flag. Sir, I speak on behalf of the people of Lullwood. We have no desire to fight you, and we believe you have no quarrel with us. Your true enemy, King Callran, lies well beyond this city. We wish for you to pass without incident. No one in the city will trouble you.

Jack glanced over his shoulder, where his own army—as pitiful as it was—had amassed behind him. There were less than fifty men in Lullwood's meager militia. The Fellestan soldiers outnumbered them ten-to-one. Jack could feel his heart drumming beneath his chest as he awaited his enemy's reply.

After a brief pause, the Black Knight coldly replied, Do you think I give a damn about what you want?

Jack's lips trembled at the knight's response. P-Pardon?

You heard me, the Black Knight said. "If you didn't, you desperately need to clean out your ears, because I said it clearly enough. But if, for some reason, you didn't hear me... I will repeat myself only once. I don't give a damn what you want."

But... sir! Jack's hands were trembling so violently, his white flag slipped from his fingers. When he collected it from the mud, the bright cloth was stained. The citizens of Lullwood are peaceful people! We don't like to fight, and we have no desire to oppose you!

And you think I care? The Black Knight lowered his sword and faced his men. Seize the mayor. You needn't be gentle with him. When he's down, scoop out his heart while he's still alive.

"What?" Jack gasped. When he tried to retreat to his horse, three armed Fellestans rushed forward and pulled him back.

But first... the Black Knight continued, Break both of his arms. I want to hear the crunch as you stomp on them.

"No... nononono... please!" Jack whimpered as the soldiers knocked him face-first into the mud. When his left arm snapped under the weight of a boot, the mayor's agonized scream echoed through the sky.

And the other one, the Black Knight said, sounding a bit bored. Jack's second arm cracked so loudly, a few Fellestan soldiers secretly winced in sympathy.

When they flipped Jack on his back, his broken arms flailed, and his face was stained in tears and mud. The Black Knight passed a peculiar ladle to one of his men. The silver ladle, which was lined with sharp metal teeth, had been fashioned specifically for the purpose of gouging out hearts. As the ladle carved into his chest, Jack's screams were so loud, crying crows scattered from nearby trees. The young mayor's still-beating heart was ripped out by the ladle. The Black Knight grinned beneath his helmet as the organ's pumping slowly receded.

He could see Lullwood's militia getting restless, so Fellestan's leader stepped back and hollered, "Archers!"

Nearly a hundred bows were raised in unison.

"Release!"

As soon as they heard the Black Knight's command, the archers obeyed. Countless arrows simultaneously soared into a burnt orange sky. There was a chilling whistle as the arrows descended, slaughtering nearly half of Lullwood's scattering militiamen.

"Wizards!" The Black Knight bellowed as three dozen robed, hooded men shuffled forward. Light gathered on their staffs as they cast their spells of choice. Most hurled fireballs, while a few called down lightning. A small number of Lullwood militiamen were still on their feet after the elemental barrage, and the remaining few fled into the city.

March into the city! the Black Knight ordered. Burn everything, and cut down anyone in your path. I don't care if they're man, woman or child... anyone who stands in our way must be put to the sword.

The Fellestan soldiers chanted their approval and marched toward the city. The Black Knight's heavy boots flattened dead grass as he led the charge. Fire arrows were raised, torches were lit, while mages whispered fearsome spells. As the Fellestans closed in on the city, they unleashed a storm of flame. Torches landed on thatched rooftops, which were quick to ignite. Mages' fireballs incinerated the stables, where trapped horses whinnied behind locked doors. When a teenage stable boy tried to free them, an arrow struck his neck.

The Black Knight kicked open the stable door, releasing the horses. Panicked stallions nickered as they sprinted from the fiery inferno. Lit arrows soared through the window of a half-timbered building, where a stubborn washerwoman was watching the invasion. The woman was determined to stay in her home—until a flaming arrow grazed her dress. She raced from the building with a panicked screech, but as soon as she exited the house, a Fellestan soldier drove his sword into her stomach. He even twisted the blade, and grinned at the sickening squelch it made. Satisfied, he tossed her corpse on a hay cart and pitched a torch on her remains.

The Black Knight's blade whirled around him, dealing death to dozens who were attempting to flee the city. He sliced through necks, carved into chests—and even lopped off the occasional limb. There were rumors he drank the blood of his enemies. It was preposterous, but he loved to let the rumors thrive. He paused over a corpse and dipped a hand into its spilled entrails. As he smeared blood all over his shiny black armor, he watched two of his soldiers drag a shrieking young blond behind a burning pub. His soldiers often claimed women as playthings, and while the Fellestan leader didn't encourage such behavior, he often looked the other way.

When he finished smearing blood on himself, the Black Knight looked down the length of his body. Unless he was bathed in sunlight, it was difficult to see the red liquid glistening on his onyx armor. He cursed the descending sun and searched for more bags of flesh to turn into corpses.

"Please! sobbed a tearful young woman as she begged for the life of her husband. Two Fellestan soldiers took turns kicking the man as they taunted her. Spare him, please! I'll do anything! We don't want trouble. We—"

Kill the man, the Black Knight interrupted. He was drawn to her begging. Nothing thrilled him more than a pretty young wife, pleading for the life of her husband. But make him suffer first. I want to see how loud his wife can scream on his behalf.

As the Fellestans restrained the husband, the Black Knight swept forward and sliced off the man's right thumb. Then he casually pitched it at the wife, who bawled hysterically as her husband's severed thumb rolled down the length of her dress.

Look away, Gillia! the man called to his wife. Run! Don't watch this! Don't—

One of the soldiers kicked his stomach, silencing his final words to his wife. As the Black Knight's sword sheared off the husband's ear, Gillia tried to flee. One of the Fellestan's caught her, carried her back to the scene, and peeled open her eyelids.

I like that, the Black Knight said as he loosened his gauntlets. You're forcing her to watch. It's cruel, but I like it. He casually cut off her husband's second ear and pitched it into the couple's flaming cottage.

Why are you doing this? Gillia cried. Why? I don't understand? How can anyone be so heartless?

I do what I do because it's fun, my lady, and for no other reason than that, the Black Knight replied as he hacked off the husband's entire right arm. When the arm dropped, an anguished sob exploded from the wife. "Very few men will experience the pure pleasure that I do. To have another's life in your hands... it is an incredibly powerful feeling. And it's especially thrilling to know there will be no consequences for my actions. Because who could possibly punish me? My actions are sanctioned by a king. He cut off the man's left arm and chucked it into the fire. When so many lives are mine to take, I'm nothing less than a god."

"Stop this! Gillia wailed. When she tried to turn away from the man who held open her eyelids, he squeezed her cheeks and forced her to look. Please, please stop!"

Perhaps you've had enough, the Black Knight decided. "Perhaps it is time to put your poor husband out of his misery? He looks like he's in so much pain, after all. And I'm sure he wouldn't want to live like this, would he? The Black Knight dragged his sword across the husband's throat, splitting it wide open. There. It's over. And a part of me is glad it's over, to be honest. Believe it or not, I empathize with your suffering. It makes me no less inclined to make you suffer, but I really do feel your pain."

Gillia stomped on the foot of the man who held her. She barely twisted out of his grip before the Black Knight's hand shot out and captured her wrist.

No, no, Gillia. You're not going anywhere, the Black Knight coldly cautioned her. I intend to spare no one today. If you were smart, you would have fled long before our army arrived. But you weren't smart, were you? No. You were a stupid whore. I should let my men fondle your breasts before I kill you. Would you like that?

When Gillia smacked his helmet, his head snapped back.

You're even stupider than I thought. Oh well. The Black Knight sighed. "No one will miss you. You know that, right? In the end, when your flesh is rot, and everyone who has ever spoken to you is bones... none of this will matter. All of this will be completely and utterly pointless. Life is pointless. Have you ever stopped to think about that? We're all puppets of meat and fat and filth. We rise, we sleep, we eat, we shit. You might think you loved your husband... but why? What was the purpose? If none of this matters in the end, why do you bring yourself to give a damn?"

He didn't get a response from Gillia—not that he expected one. With barely any effort, he thrust his sword through her stomach. He cradled her body and stroked her hair as he watched the life drain from her face.

Poor Gillia, he whispered to the dying woman. This is a terrible way to go, isn't it? You're dying in the arms of the man who killed your husband. I can think of a hundred better ways to die. I'm sure this wasn't how you imagined your end, is it? You wanted to grow old. Perhaps... you wanted to have a child one day? The Black Knight barely lifted his helmet and brought his lips to her ear. Goodbye, sweetheart. I'm so terribly sorry I shattered your dreams.

Chapter Two

Kelizabeth Sundir preferred to work the afternoon shift at Silverton's Black Boar Pub. She wasn't an early riser, so she hated the morning shift. The earliest hours of the morning often put her in a sour mood, and she didn't shed her grumpiness until the middle of the day.

The night shift, with its rowdy patrons, was the worst by far. When the moon rose and men were in their cups, their lips were looser and hands would rove. Within the first thirty minutes of her shift, her bottom was pinched no less than three times.

Kelizabeth didn't understand why she attracted so much male attention. Unless her looking glass was lying to her, she was hardly the prettiest girl in the world. Her eyebrows were thick and her lips were too wide. Her friend Alissa often said she was more handsome than pretty, which she never took as a compliment. She didn't want to be handsome. Handsome was a compliment more suitable for a man.

Kelizabeth was a busty, full-figured girl, barely over five feet tall.  Her long black hair was often twisted into a sloppy braid, and today was no exception. As she wove between tables, two men thought it would be clever to tug on her braid. It wasn't clever. She wanted to slam her elbow into their teeth, but she smiled instead. As a barmaid, smiling was her duty.

Kizzy! one of her fellow barmaids, Tessa, called to her from across the room. Kelizabeth... come here, please!

Kelizabeth quickly delivered turkey and stuffing to one of the diners and hurried over to Tessa, who was cowering behind the bar.

What is it, Tessa? Kelizabeth asked. Your face is red. What's wrong?

"I've got... lady problems," Tessa whispered.

Understanding flickered across Kelizabeth's face. Ah.

I need to run home for a bit, but... if I leave, you and Mary will be stuck here by yourselves.

Kelizabeth's gaze wandered to Mary. The middle-aged barmaid was wiping down the counter with a scowl. Mary always scowled. Her usual expression was as sour as the lemon and lime juice they often mixed into patrons' drinks.

It's alright, Kizzy assured her. I think we can handle it. She was trying to be sympathetic to Tessa's plight, but she secretly believed it was too much work for two barmaids to handle. The pub was already teeming with noisy, raucous patrons.

Thanks, Kizzy. I'll make it up to you somehow! Tessa exclaimed as she darted from the room. If I can, I'll return in an hour or so.

Take your time! Kizzy called to her. I'll... be alright. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, her body was jolted by the sound of shattering glass. An intoxicated patron had chucked an empty bottle of rum at the wall, which was hardly uncommon. Kizzy always swept up broken glass at the night's end. Under her breath, she quietly added, "At least... I think I'll be alright."

Kelizabeth hurried over to Mary. The older barmaid finished cleaning the counter and moved on to mixing drinks. Mary, Kizzy spoke up, I need three mugs of ale for those gentlemen over there. Kizzy pointed at the corner table, where three tattooed men were sharpening knives and slapping down cards.

Here. Mary promptly filled the mugs and shoved them to Kizzy. "I wouldn't say they was gentlemen, though. They look like arseholes to me."

Uh... probably, Kizzy replied as she carefully loaded the overflowing mugs onto a flimsy tray. The Black Boar Pub was popular because they were generous with their drinks and portions.

They're all arseholes here, Mary amended herself. This place attracts arseholes.

And I wish I could disagree with you, Kizzy sighed as she turned away from the bar. Wish me luck.

The men stopped playing cards when they saw her approach, and one even licked his lips. Hey, lovely, he greeted her as Kizzy delivered their drinks. I like my ladies thick, you know. Thick like you. What's your name?

Kizzy tried to be friendly, even when it wasn't deserved. Kelizabeth.

Kelizabeth. Ahhh... that's a mouthful, complained the ruffian, whose knife was etching a picture on the wooden tabletop. Kizzy thought his carving looked suspiciously like male genitalia, but she didn't ask.

My friends call me Kizzy, she said.

Kizzy. That's cute. I like it. Can I be your friend and call you Kizzy, love? Maybe I could even give you a kissy?

Uhh... As she hesitated, Kizzy glanced at his companions, whose drinks were already halfway consumed. They were snickering, so she assumed they were enjoying her discontent.

"I could be more than your friend, if you'd like, the man continued. You can sit on my lap and I can smother my face between those lovely breasts of yours."

Kizzy sneered down at her low-cut dress. The Black Boar's barmaids were expected to show a considerable amount of cleavage. The dresses were designed to attract the wrong sort of attention. Unfortunately, it gave the pub's patrons the wrong impression.

Is there anything else you need? Kelizabeth asked the question as politely as possible, even though he was the definition of impolite.

"Aye. I need you. I need your buttocks squashed up against me—"

Kizzy fled before he could finish. She could hear his cronies cackling as she raced across the room.

When she returned to Mary, her face must have been flushed, because the barmaid asked, Let me guess... they weren't gentlemen?

No... Kizzy answered with a sigh. "Definitely not gentlemen."

As Kizzy delivered roast beef and potatoes to a friendly old couple, a young man at a neighboring table suddenly stood up in his chair and banged his knife on the side of his glass.

Excuse me! the pimply youth cried out. Can I have your attention, please?

While most of the room fell silent, the young man had one vocal dissenter, who crudely yelled, "Sir yer arse down, boy!"

Kizzy's eyes were on the boy. She fussed with the end of her plait as she waited for the youth to continue his speech.

By now, I'm sure you've all heard what the Fellestans did in Lullwood. The town was destroyed, its people were slaughtered... and the army might be heading this way.

"Let them come! the boy's dissenter shouted. I don't give a damn!"

The young man ignored his heckler and continued to address the muttering crowd. "The Fellestans are heading to King Callran's Kelwelly Castle. Conquest is their goal... we know this for certain. Our town of Silverton, like Lullwood, is directly in their path. What's to stop them from torching our town and killing our children like they did in every other village that's come before us? Nothing. Do you want to wait around until they show up? Do you want them raping your wives? Your daughters? Your mothers? No! That's why we need to evacuate the town before the army comes this way!"

Murmurs of agreement buzzed throughout the pub.

Another man, a much older man, rose from his chair. Listen to the lad! He's wise beyond his years, he is. My wife is already packin.' We're leaving tomorrow. I thought I'd have drinks one more time before this pub is turned to dust. The old man raised his mug, drained its contents, and slammed it on the table. If you're smart, you'll flee.

A third man—a freckled thirty-something with flaming red hair—stood up and cleared his throat. I think we should stand and fight! he debated. Why should we let them drive us from our homes? Should we not stay and defend what we've built?

In the back of the pub, a man yelled, "Aye... if you want to get raped in the arse!"

His remark earned him a few sniggers from the sobering crowd.

I'm serious, though! the red-haired man went on, We should fight for what's ours! Or are you all cowardly enough to abandon your homes and turn your back on everything you've built?

Kizzy glanced at Mary, who looked even more impatient than usual as the pub's patrons prattled.

"The king should help us! a mustached man squawked. King Callran should send aid! By now, he knows the Fellestans are coming this way! Why does he not send help?"

His question was answered by the young man who started the discussion. Because the king doesn't give a damn about any of us! Bolstering his castle's defenses is more important. He's willing to sacrifice a few villages here and there.

As the men complained about the king, Kizzy collected drinks from the bar and quietly delivered them.

"We need to bolster our defenses! the red-haired man exclaimed. Is there no one who agrees with me?"

For several seconds, the crowd was silent. As Kizzy delivered an ale, some of the foam sloshed onto her hand. She wiped her hands on her apron and turned toward the red-haired man.

My name is Jonathan Newberry! he continued, "I may be a farmer, but I believe I'm a competent swordsman as well. I'm going to fight for our home! I am not going to run! Am I the only one who's brave enough to stand and fight?"

Near the bar, a dissenter yelled, "You're the only one who's stupid enough!" More snickers rippled through the pub.

Undaunted by his lack of support, Jonathan continued, "Someone in this room must be brave enough to stand at my side! Someone in this room must be willing to pick up a sword and join my fight! Even if our struggle ends in death, at least I won't die a coward!"

Goose pimples dotted Kizzy's flesh as she lifted her head and shouted, "I would fight with you!"

When they realized his supporter was a woman, several listeners chuckled. As Kizzy's shoulders fell, she wondered if she had done more harm than good.

"I appreciate your mettle, young lady, but if we are going to win this battle, I need men at my side! Jonathan exclaimed. Gentlemen... do you really want to think this woman has more balls than you?"

"Balls, snorted Mary, who was suddenly standing at Kizzy's side. Balls are overrated, if you ask me. A lady's parts can take more hits."

Yeah... agreed a sighing Kizzy. That's true.

Don't let them get to you, Mary said as she wrapped an arm around the younger barmaid. "Men like to believe they're the strong ones, and we let them believe it because they need to believe it. But the truth is... we're made of sterner stuff than them."

More men rose from their chairs and gathered near Jonathan. Apparently, Kizzy's outburst had inspired them to stand and fight.

You're making a mistake! whimpered the pimply youth who was still standing on his chair. "If you don't run away, you will die! My cousin was in Lullwood... he barely made it out alive! He saw little children with pikes through their heads. He saw old women set ablaze by the magics of mages! Do you have any idea what you're up against?"

"Should we flee?" Kelizabeth whispered the question to Mary, whose expression was as sour as ever.

I dunno. Maybe. Mary hitched a shoulder. I don't like the idea of running, but... sometimes it's better to have sense.

"Are you saying I don't have sense? Kizzy asked. Because I wanted to stay and fight?"

Aye. Maybe. Mary lightly squeezed the younger woman's shoulder. But if it's any consolation, I still think you're smarter than any man in this room.

Chapter Three

K izzy.

Kelizabeth was exiting the pub when she heard a male voice whispering her name. Her body shuddered at the unexpected sound. When she realized the speaker was Finnicus Casey, her lips pursed to suppress a dreamy sigh. The Mayor's stable boy was so handsome, she was surprised he even remembered her name.

Oh! Hello, Finnicus. She tried to meet his gaze, but she didn't feel worthy of having his smoky blue eyes on hers. Was there something you needed?

Well... no. The stable boy slid a bit closer to her, leaving very little distance between them. I just wanted to say... I thought you were brave.

Oh. Kizzy's cheeks colored at the compliment. She never expected praise from the handsomest man in Silverton. I, umm... thanks.

I was really surprised when you spoke up, Finnicus said. A few people laughed, but I was impressed.

"A few? As she chatted with Finnicus, Kizzy nervously fussed with the end of her braid. Everyone laughed at me."

I didn't.

Kizzy forced herself to make eye contact with him, but only for a moment. In the moonlight, he was even more flawless than usual. His eyes were intense, his features were soft, and a few large freckles were splattered across his tan, smiling cheeks. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing sinewy forearms. Finnicus was a bit short, but he was much taller than Kizzy. As handsome as he was, he attracted a lot of female attention. She never thought she would hold his interest for more than a moment.

Well, I'm hardly a warrior. I have no idea why I thought I could put up a fight, Kizzy said. "I just don't know how I can flee while my mother is unwell. Besides, we don't have a carriage of our own."

Perhaps I can help you? My family has a carriage, Finnicus said.

"Oh. So you are going to flee?" Kizzy's fingers were fidgeting, so she shoved them into her pockets. A few seconds later, they reemerged and locked behind her back. She had no idea what to do with her arms while she was speaking to a handsome man like Finnicus.

I think so. It's the only way I know my mother and little sister will be safe, Finnicus explained. We probably won't leave for a few more days, though. The Fellestans aren't expected to arrive until the end of the week.

Good. At least I'll be able to estimate the date of my death.

Finnicus' frowning lips suggested he didn't appreciate her joke. "Honestly, if you do decide to flee, let me know. We'll make space in our carriage. It's just you and your mother... right?"

Kizzy nodded slowly. Uh huh.

I'll help you move your mother, Finnicus promised. I'm sure she won't be too much of a burden.

Burden. Kizzy's arms crossed when she heard the word. No matter how bad the situation got, it was never a word she associated with her mother. I appreciate your offer, Finnicus. I will certainly bear it in mind.

Do you want me to walk you home?

No. I'll be fine. As she started forward without him, Kizzy secretly chided herself. She should have been clamoring for more time with him. Farewell, Finnicus.

Farewell.

When Finnicus was behind her, her fingers finally stopped fidgeting. Her mind replayed all the ways in which she might have made a fool of herself.

"Idiot, Kizzy admonished herself. At the very least, you could have let him walk you home..."

Her regrets doubled when she heard footsteps echoing behind her. It was nearly midnight, and the streets of Silverton were barren. When she turned a corner, the footsteps went with her. She didn't work the late shift often, but it was hardly her first time walking home in the dark. So why was her pulse racing?

Kizzy turned again. So did the footsteps. She held her breath and glanced over her shoulder. A man in a brown hood was trailing behind her.

Pardon me! As she called out to her cloaked pursuer, Kizzy's hand curled around the folded knife in her pocket. She never had to use it, but she always carried it. Silverton at nighttime was hardly the safest place in the world. Pardon me, but... are you following me?

I am, the stranger shamelessly confessed. As he crept closer, Kizzy held another breath.

"Why are you following me?" When she realized her follower was a much older gentleman, some of her tension dissipated. For some inexplicable reason, his gray hair and weathered face put her at ease.

I wanted to speak to you, replied the grizzled stranger. Are you not the young lady who wanted to fight to save the town?

Uh... yes. Kizzy chuckled at herself. It was just bluster, though. To be honest, there's really nothing I can do.

What's your name, girl?

Her eyes narrowed at the stranger's question. His interest made her uneasy, but she answered it anyway. Kelizabeth.

That's an odd name.

The stranger's remark made her sneer. My friends call me Kizzy... not that I have a lot of friends. She took a moment to study the stranger's face. His forehead lines were deep, his lips were thin and frowning, and he had a long scar along his eye. The scar looked ancient, and by some miracle, it hadn't blinded him. What's your name?

Eion.

Well, Eion... is there something I can do for you? Kizzy asked, sounding a bit impatient.

How old are you, Kizzy? The stranger's voice was raspy, but not unpleasant. He spoke so softly, it was difficult to be offended by his questions.

Eighteen, she replied. Nearly nineteen, though.

Will you remain in Silverton when the Fellestans come? Eion asked, sliding forward. The closer he got, the tighter she squeezed her knife. His face was harmless, but he was well-armed. He had two swords, a bow, a quiver of arrows, and a crossbow at his hip.

When Kizzy started walking, she assumed the stranger would follow. She wasn't wrong. He not only followed—he increased his pace to walk at her side. With a sigh, she finally answered, I don't know yet.

"Do you want to stay in Silverton?"

What I want won't matter, Kizzy answered with a shrug. It will probably be my mum's decision.

Did I hear you say your mother was ill?

Kizzy's nose puckered at Eion's question. How long was he listening to her conversation with Finnicus? You heard that?

Indeed, Eion replied. What's wrong with her?

Goodness! Kizzy chuckled at his brazenness. Your questions are very... direct. And you're a bit nosy, if I'm being honest.

Sorry, the stranger apologized. When I'm fascinated by something, my curiosity is insatiable.

You're fascinated? Kizzy raised a dark eyebrow. "By me?" She was starting to think he was flirting—but she hoped she was mistaken. The man looked old enough to be her grandfather.

Indeed. You're a very brave young lady. Why should I not be fascinated?

I'm not that brave! confessed a chuckling Kizzy. Honestly. I don't even know why I spoke up! Perhaps I was feeling the moment? Kizzy studied his profile in the corner of her eye. Her hooded companion looked dreadfully serious. "As for my mother, she's more than ill. Her lungs are bad, she's blind, and she hasn't walked in years."

His eyelashes fluttered at her answer. I'm very sorry to hear that.

"I hate when people say they're sorry! Kizzy griped. Why does everyone think my mother's condition means I'm owed some sort of an apology? I love my mother, and I'm glad she's still with me!"

I'm... sorry, the stranger apologized again.

"I would happily take care of her for the rest of my life, if it was possible! And she is not a burden! They were approaching her mother's cottage. As its thatched rooftop crept into view, Kizzy hesitated. Did she really want the peculiar stranger to know where she lived? And this is where we part ways, I'm afraid," she announced.

Have I offended you?

Kizzy quickly shook her head. No.

Kelizabeth... The stranger's jaw tightened as he faced her direction. May I ask you another question?

Kizzy hitched a shoulder. You might as well. You've already asked enough.

If you choose to stay in Silverton... will you let me train you?

The barmaid chuckled at the thought. "Train me? Train me how?"

Eion pointed at the swords at his hips. Train you in swordplay. Train you in archery. Train you to defend yourself, should that dreadful day ever come.

You want to... train me. It took her a moment to digest his words. You don't think that would be a waste of your time?

Absolutely not.

Half of Kizzy's mouth crawled into a grin. She had to wonder how much the grizzled old warrior could actually teach her. I'm not very strong, though, Kizzy warned him. When I have to carry one of the kegs from storage, I can barely lift it!

You don't have to be strong, insisted the hooded stranger. A fight takes more than muscle. You can easily make up for a lack of physical strength with speed, agility, a strong will, foresight, strength of character...

I don't have any of those things, Kizzy interrupted.

And I don't believe you. Eion suddenly peeled back his hood, revealing more of his receding hairline and close-cropped graying ginger hair. Let me train you, Kelizabeth. I promise you won't regret it.

Al... right, she reluctantly accepted his offer. I have nothing to lose, I suppose. Where should we meet?

When do you have time?

Well, I don't work tomorrow, Kizzy said. I do have to take care of my mum and do some shopping, though.

Tomorrow, at three o'clock, meet me at the Black Boar Pub, Eion suddenly decided. I will provide you with the necessary weaponry.

That's... good to know? Kizzy's doubts were obvious.

Farewell, Kelizabeth, the older gentleman said with a bow. I will see you tomorrow.

Indeed, Kizzy quietly agreed as she turned toward her cottage. I just hope this isn't a disastrous idea...

Chapter Four

When Kizzy entered her cottage, Eion's strange proposition still lingered in her mind. As she locked the cottage door, she cried out, Mama? Mama, are you still awake?

A soft voice answered in the darkness. Of course. You know I always wait for you. It worries me when you work so late.

Her mother was blind, so it wasn't unusual to find her sitting in total darkness. Kizzy fumbled around the room, collected three candles from the nearest table, and lit them with a steady hand. I brought soup for you, Mama.

Abigale was too concerned for her daughter's safety to think about soup. Could you talk to your boss? she asked. Perhaps you could convince him to give you earlier hours?

I won't have another late shift until next week. Her mother's soup had gone a bit cold, so Kizzy heated it on the stove. As she stirred, she whispered to herself, "if we even survive until next week..."

"But I wish you never worked late, her mother argued. The streets are so dangerous at night."

Kizzy almost mentioned her encounter with Eion, but she didn't want to give her mother another reason to worry. I brought cheese and potato soup, Kizzy tried to change the subject. Is it still your favorite?

I believe so. Abigale breathed deeply. It smells delicious.

When the soup was thoroughly heated, Kizzy turned off the flame and pushed her mother's wheelchair to the table. As she handed Abigale a spoon, she said, "The Black Boar doesn't always attract the best patrons, but we do have good food."

You do, Abigale agreed. Thank you for bringing soup for me, Kizzy.

It was my pleasure. Kizzy sat across from her mother and watched her eat. Though Abigale couldn't see, her spoon never missed the bowl.

This is delicious, Abigale said. You should have brought some for yourself.

I had a sandwich during my break, so I'm not really hungry. Anyway, I have something important to tell you. Mama, the Fellestans... Kizzy bit her tongue. She was hesitant to give her mother another reason to fret. Abigale's declining health was already a profound concern.

What is it? asked her mother, who coughed between bites of soup. Kizzy winced at the rattle in her mother's lungs.

It's... nothing, Kelizabeth lied. I was just wondering if you wanted a bath.

Do I stink? her mother asked with a chuckle.

No, not at all. But it's been a few days since your last bath, so I thought you might be due for one, Kizzy said. Besides, it might relax you before bed.

It's entirely up to you, Kizzy. Abigale shoved a large potato into her mouth and took a moment to chew. I don't want to trouble you, though.

"You never trouble me, Mama! Kizzy rose from her chair and kissed her mother's head. It makes me happy to help you!"

As always, it took over thirty minutes to prepare her mother's bath. The water came from Silverton's massive well. When her mother was young, the villagers had to walk to the well any time they needed water. Now, twenty years later, Kizzy could turn a crank in her kitchen, and the water came directly to her. However, the water was always cold, so she needed to heat it on the stove.

When the bath was finally prepared, Kizzy pushed her mother's chair into the washroom and instructed her mother to unbutton her dress.

I'm so sorry, Kizzy, Abigale apologized as her fingers plucked at her dress' thick buttons. After a long day at work, I'm sure you would prefer to come home and rest. Instead... you have to take care of me.

Don't worry about it, Kizzy said. Besides, the bath was my idea.

But I— Her mother was interrupted by a coughing fit, which lasted nearly a minute. Kizzy patted her mother's arm as she waited for the fit to subside. One wheeze was so violent, a few flecks of blood flew through Abigale's lips and colored her undergarments. Abigale couldn't see the blood, and Kizzy never mentioned it.

When the coughing fit ended, Abigale apologized again, I'm so sorry!

"Please, Mama, stop apologizing!" Kelizabeth removed the rest of her mother's clothes, lifted her from the chair, and helped her into the bath. She lowered her into the water as slowly and carefully as she could. Once, several months ago, her mother slipped and hit her head. Kizzy never wanted to repeat that awful day.

As she washed her mother, Kizzy tried to picture herself in another time and place. No matter how many times she dragged the sudsy cloth along her mother's moist skin, it never felt any less awkward. Abigale was always silent, so it was easy to slip into a daydream. Kizzy liked to pretend she was outside of her body, in a grassy meadow miles away. She imagined herself with a handsome prince, swept away in a foreign land. Her mother always said she was fanciful, and she was probably right. Even as a child, Kizzy had a vivid imagination.

As soon as the bath was over, Kizzy patted her mother dry, wrapped her body in a blanket, and helped her into her chair. She was in the middle of drying Abigale's hair when another coughing fit shook her lungs.

Are you alright, Mama? Kizzy asked as she stroked her mother's back.

Abigale pressed a hand against her chest as she fought to catch a breath. I'm... fine, she lied. Mother and daughter frequently told little lies to reduce each other's worries.

Is it getting worse? Kelizabeth asked as she steered her mother's chair to their shared bedroom. Her mother's coughing often kept both of them awake at night, but Kizzy never complained. Not even once.

I don't know, to be honest, her mother answered with a sigh. It was another lie. Lately, it felt as if her chest was on fire, and she had yet to share that discomfiting fact with her daughter.

Kelizabeth popped a nightgown over her mother's head and helped her into bed. As she pulled the blankets around her, she said, Try to get some rest... alright? I love you, Mama.

Abigale chuckled at her daughter's caring words. I swear... it's as if you've become the mother, and I'm now the daughter.

Never! Kizzy declared as she kissed her mother's forehead.

Will you be sleeping soon? Abigale asked. It's after midnight, is it not?

It is. I... I'll head to bed soon, Kizzy promised her. There's something I wanted to do first.

Kizzy blew out every candle but one, which she placed on her writing desk. Before she sat down, she freed her hair from its plait and ran her fingers through the long, black waves. She briefly faced the looking glass and sneered at her reflection.

Prodding her round stomach, she whispered to herself, I've gotten so... fat. She leaned closer to the looking glass and traced a finger along one of her thick, fluffy eyebrows. She always hated her eyebrows, but she was too lazy to pluck them. What was the point? It wasn't as if plucking her eyebrows would somehow change her life or make her beautiful.

"How am I supposed to attract a handsome stable boy when I'm stuck in a body like this? She sighed at her reflection. Oh well."

Kizzy sat down at the writing desk and reached for her quill and inkwell. She removed a parchment from one of