This was my first, first ever book prior to writing Piercing Jordie (formerly Jordie In Charge). I lost the ending and majority of this book when my computer crashed, found the doc, then lost it again due to me being a loon, and now, here it is, 6 years later. I hope you enjoy it.

Year of the Gods – Spring 824

Karlyn rolled her head to the side. It’d been days since she knew if it was day or night. Maybe that was the problem. She was expecting too much.

She missed the sun and its warm light caressing her skin. She missed the free-flowing stream behind her tiny house, the way the crickets would hum their song at night, and the tittering of joyous birds in the morning. She missed the world. With a sad sigh, she sat against the stone wall and closed her eyes.

Thick metal keys turned inside a lock. The grating noise sent shivers down her cold, bare arms. Her hollow green eyes stared at what she thought was a door but she couldn’t tell anymore.

“Eat,” the man growled at her.

Defiantly, Karlyn turned her head away. The gruel they fed her was disgusting. The only meal she ate was the bread and cheese the jailer brought her every other time. This slow starvation was making her angry. She wanted whatever was going to happen to her to be over with already. The waiting was killing her quicker than the lack of food.

The bulky man stormed in and struck her upside the head. “I said eat!”

She closed her eyes at the sharp pain. It stung for a moment, but she’d had worse than this buffoon. Seeing stars, she closed her eyes until she was certain the stars were gone. She nestled down against the stone to feign sleep. It was the closest thing to utter impertinence she could muster.

With a growl, and muttered curse words under his breath, the guard turned on his heel and stormed off. The heavy metal door closed with a slam and a click of the grinding lock.

“Tell King Thornburg, the prisoner still won’t eat,” the guard told his subordinate.

Achingly, Karlyn sat up. She looked at the plate of so-called food the man brought. With a grimace she turned the food away. The water was the only thing she wanted, so she drank it down.

It took a lot of effort to stand. Karlyn needed to face this, King Thornburg, head on. Without a doubt, she knew he was going to be coming. It was only six paces across the cell from wall to wall and four paces from the opposite wall to the door.

“Come on girl,” she told herself.

She was shocked at how her voice sounded. It was hollow with a bit of a rasp. How long have I truly been down here? she thought. Karlyn couldn’t remember. She racked her brain for answers but none were forthcoming other than it had been a grossly long time.

She paced, getting her limbs working and the blood flowing. She needed to be ready, limber. Karlyn stretched, hearing the joints in her body crack and her stomach growl.

A pungent aroma made her cringe. King Thornburg, she surmised. She hoped he acted better than he smelled with how much oil he dabbed upon his person. His boot steps echoed throughout the stone walls. Karlyn could feel the intensity of the moment, and, quite frankly, it had her on edge. Nervousness coursed through her; along with some other emotions building and adding fuel to her internal fire.

Be brave and strong, her father’s words echoed in her mind.

Her legs stood stronger. She straightened her back. Her head rose up to meet the door; her chin tilted in arrogant defiance.

And she waited.

She waited to see the man who imprisoned her for some purpose unbeknownst to her. She waited to hear what he had to say. For months, aye, she was certain of it now, she’d been locked away. Months she’d waited to be let out or have a reason as to why this happened.

The bolt unlocked with a groaning click. It swung inward with a whoosh. Light hit her eyes first. It was the first real light she’d seen in a long time. Everything else was a dull glow from the vented slot in the door. But this light was bright.

In walked the shortest man she’d ever seen. She was taller than him by a foot at least. Even though the appearance was shocking, she knew better than to underestimate someone. The man was haughty with an air of supremacy and utter arrogance. His oiled hair was slicked back, giving him an impish appearance instead of imposing.

“Expecting someone taller?” The man glared at her, then continued, “I’m King Edwin Thornburg and you, my new… pet,” he sneered, appraising her up and down thoroughly, “have the lovely privilege of being here.”

“Where am I?” she asked in her native tongue.

“I know you can understand me!”

She could understand him, but it was better to play stupid. Sometimes, she was able to glean more information if everyone believed she was incompetent. So, with a furrow of confusion on her brow and an inward smile in her mind, she asked, “Where am I? I do not understand your language.”

“Stop playing games, woman,” the small man growled fiercely.

Again, she repeated herself, adding a few other questions to get on his nerves.

Edwin groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Can someone get a translator?” Edwin finally broke. “Get Varr!”

Win number one, she thought. Edwin paced the floor, cursing her and her language. He would call her stupid and worthless at every turn of his pacing step. It was playing out exactly how she wanted it to. Edwin was cursing her father, Nisus, in-between his wild fuming rants. With Edwin’s ranting, it all made sense as to why she was here. Her father sold her. But why? And to what purpose?

Ever since she was a toddler, she remembered Nisus telling her he loved her when she did something good. He was strict. Even more so with his training and punishments when she faltered. But he loved her. Everything he did was out of love: the training, the discipline, the missions she completed. She brought honor to his name. She’d always done what he asked, without question, without fail. What changed?

A tall, skinny man came into the room with a guard and another torch in hand. This man was exceedingly tall and plainly dressed in a dark brown robe. His brown eyes glared from her to the King. He pushed brown hair off his head; his brow peppered with sweat made him appear sickly.

“This woman doesn’t know our language,” Edwin sneered at her as he addressed the man beside him.

“What does she speak?” the taller man asked broodingly.

“How should I know?” Edwin spat. “That is your area of expertise, Varr. It’s why you’re even alive.”

“Speak woman,” Varr commanded.

She was silent for a moment. Varr stepped into her cell, coming within inches of her. She held her ground and stared up at him. The added glow of another torch made the visibility all the better for her. She could size up what she was against and make a plan of action.

Karlyn looked away to get a fresh breath of air. His breath reeked of ale and something else she couldn’t place. She never liked the smell or taste of ale, preferring the bitter bite of red wine. Yet this man reeked of ale and vehemence.

“Speak, so I may know what language you understand,” he told her quietly.

Again, she was quiet. Varr made the motions with his hand for her to mouth words. This time, she would oblige.

The translator before her was indifferent, waiting for her to speak with calculated dark eyes. However, the same could not be said of the donkey midget man. Everything, as far as she could tell, affected him. He was like a child who didn’t get his way. He stomped, kicking invisible rocks with his impatience. Edwin glared at her with every turn he made.

“Where am I? I don’t understand your language,” she told him.

Varr was quiet for a moment. His jaw worked back and forth. “It’s a language from an island on Brielle Lake, far to the north.”

Karlyn refrained from rolling her eyes. She was from Hela’s Lake Island, far to the northeast and secluded between the borders of Hoklen and Perolas, deep in the Rabble Forest where none, but a select few, could find or enter. The one person who decided to leave took books of their language and knowledge. Karlyn, by order of her father, hunted down the traitor and killed him, but was unable to find the precious books. Now she knew where the books landed.

“Well, do you understand it?” Edwin asked impatiently.

“I was trained in that field,” Varr told him harshly. “I do not know how you came across such a woman. Their kind has not come here in years.”

“I don’t need a historical lesson, Varr, just translate for me!” Edwin yelled furiously.

“Hello, my name is Varr.” The man ignored the raging King and addressed her.

Varr bent low at the waist, kicking out his right foot behind him, in the regal bow meant for an important person like Nisus. Karlyn refrained from her upper lip curling.

“I’m Karlyn,” she replied.

“Her name’s Karlyn,” Varr told the King.

“Perfect. Then she is who I want! Ask her if she knows why she’s here,” the King demanded.

“Do you know why you’re here?” the translator asked.

She knew why she was here. Her father sold her for a mission or maybe he finally got sick of her being a woman. That was always his excuse for her, why he couldn’t fully love her like how he truly wanted. She always assumed Nisus did love her to a degree, but now, she realized she must have mistaken his words and approving looks for what she wanted to believe. Nisus desired a son and since she was a woman, she was, therefore, worthless; he’d said it often enough. It had to be why he’d done this.

She shook her head. “How would I know? Could you please tell me why I’m here?” Karlyn politely asked.

“She doesn’t know why she’s here. She would like to know,” Varr translated.

Edwin deflected the question with a flick of his wrist. “She’s here because her father sold her to me, but she doesn’t need to know that, so don’t tell her. She is a skilled assassin, or so I was told. Ask her if that’s true.”

She finally got the answer she wasn’t hoping to hear. Inwardly, she cringed. Nisus sold her more than likely for his crux of whisky, or maybe he finally did like he said he would because she wasn’t a man. It stung her heart fiercely. She loved her father. She believed he loved her as well, despite being a woman. So often he held it over her head, like being born this way was somehow her fault.

Karlyn bit her lip, chewing it between her teeth. Her heart spun with reasons to go back to her father and gain his affection. However, after this, she would never go back. There was nothing tying her to that man anymore. Her stomach gurgled in pain. Bile rose in her throat. Her father’s love was contingent on what she did for him and nothing more.

My entire life had been a lie, she thought morosely. Whatever happens now, I will get away and go do what I want… Whatever that is.

Varr patted her cheek harshly. “Karlyn,” he called, getting her attention. “Are you a skilled assassin?”

Karlyn blinked. Training her was the only good thing Nisus ever did for her. “Why do you want to know?”

“You’ve been bought and sold. You’re property of the King. He has the right to know.”

Karlyn laughed. No one had the right to know anything. Apparently, these people didn’t understand that. If anyone shared anything about themselves, it was out of courtesy and eventual respect when respect was earned. Idiots, she mused.

She was needed here for something. The only thing she could do was comply to get out of this mess, kill whom she must, escape, and live her life alone down south in Yemerling in a section called The Willows. Since she was little, she loved weaving. She rolled her shoulders to mask a shrug. Maybe I’ll start a weaving business, she decided.

“I see. I am who he seeks. What is the mission I’m tasked to accomplish?”

“She is the woman you seek,” Varr replied without taking his eyes off her. “She wants to know what mission you have for her.”

The king chuckled darkly. The torch light cast an eerie glow on the translator's face. Varr’s eyes darkened considerably. Karlyn cast a careful glance over at the portly, pungent King. His eyes glimmered maliciously as he rocked back and forth on his heels triumphantly.

Her face hardened. She knew without a doubt something was amiss. She wasn’t here to kill. That would be all too easy for her. It was something else. For the first time, dread filled her to her core.

“What am I truly here for?” she asked.

“What did the shrew ask?” the King snarled.

“What am I truly here for?” Varr replied

“My, my, isn’t she the perceptive one?”

Karlyn snorted, hiding it as if she sneezed. Imprudent dolt. Not hard to figure out since you’re giving me all the clues.

The king fiddled with his hands then came toward her. “You’re here because I own you.” He smiled vilely at her. “You’re here because I wanted you and your father so graciously complied for me to have you,” he paused, licking his lips. “And I will have you… However I see fit.”

She glared down at the man and snarled. She wouldn’t ever be had in that fashion or whatever way the little man thought he would have her. Edwin would be in for a hellish treat should she ever get out of the confines of this room and past the numerous guards currently blocking her path.

“Shackle her. Chain her feet and hands to her middle. This woman is a trained killer,” the King told the guards outside.

Karlyn remained silent, raising her head and straightening her back. Her eyes never left Edwin. Inside she was fuming, but there would be a time and place to get revenge. She would find a way out of the ties binding her to this fate. Edwin would pay with his life for this. Then next would be her father.

Four guards came in with clinking, cumbersome chains and began shackling them around her body. They set a heavy one around her stomach. Her lack of hips from starvation didn’t help. The metal dug into her skin. A guard connected her wrist and leg shackles to her stomach chain.

Karlyn did not break eye contact with Edwin. She glared levelly, pouring forth all the hatred she felt.

“Welcome to Timberbrook Castle,” Edwin said, spreading his arms wide. “You’re mine now.”

The final lock snapped into place around her neck. Darkness came flooding back into the cell. She didn’t remember much after.

She awoke with a start. It felt like she had been falling, yet the cold stone on her back spoke of where she was. Looking around, Karlyn noted she was in a different room. Moonlight streamed through her barred window, illuminating the floor and the solid oak door.

With a flurry and a pain in her chest, she scrambled to her feet. Desperation rumbled in her heart. Surely, she was dreaming. Karlyn grabbed the bars on the window and stared at the sky. The moon was milky white, embellishing the heavens with its brilliant glow and purity. Bats made peeps as they swooped by her window, catching the bugs who made their presence known.

Tears rolled down her cheeks. She could actually see moonlight. It had been so long. It had been too long since she’d last smelled pure, sweet air and seen the light of anything. Karlyn wiped her eyes. A gentle breeze tousled her dark hair and stung her cheeks where her tears had tracked. She giggled softly, relishing the sting and the fact she could feel a breeze on her grimy skin.

Karlyn stuck her chained hand out through the window, feeling the breeze waft through her calloused fingers. She sniffed, wiping her tears on the sleeve of her shirt. She couldn’t see much else beyond the darkness of the night and the beaming glow of the moon casting shadows upon the land; but come morning, she couldn’t wait to sit and bask in the sunlight.

“Has it really been that long since I’ve seen the outside?” Karlyn asked aloud.

Karlyn closed her eyes, relishing the feel of the breeze on her skin as it wove through her fingers. Inhaling deeply, the bite of fresh air invigorated her. This was her chance to see the outside world of the people who captured her and brought her here. It was her chance to figure out how best to escape.

“Since you’ve been captured, or when you went into the dungeon?” Inquired a voice behind her.

Slowly, she turned around. She scorned herself for not being more alert to those around her. She was taught to never let her guard down and now someone knew she could understand his language perfectly and speak it. The assassin’s language was taught to her at a young age, since everyone in her guild spoke it. The common language was taught to her later. Whoever this man was, now knew she could understand the common tongue.

Karlyn stared at the man in the corner sitting in a high-back chair. He was massive, broad shouldered yet tapered at the waist. She’d killed bigger, though currently in her state, would pose a challenge to do. His long, left leg was perched over the other. The minimal armor he wore creaked with his movement. He had a set square jaw with a thick beard, though it was cut close to the face. He appeared more terrifying than he sounded, which made her relax a bit.

The man groaned as he stood. She noted his well over six-foot frame. She wasn’t small in the least, around six foot herself. The man strode toward her, stopping within inches of her face and peered at her with a piercing eagle-like gaze.

“I asked you a question,” he told her firmly.

Boldly, she met his gaze. “Both.”

A smirk reached his face. “You’re going to need all that bravado.”

Karlyn put her hands on her hips, eyes locked with his. The chains rattled, and for a moment, she was crestfallen. Though she didn’t expect much less given the man who had her. She would get out of this. It would take time and patience, but she would escape.

“I’ll be fine,” she replied, sizing him up.

The man gave a throaty chuckle. “I’m sure.”

Karlyn smirked, shooting him a look that begged him to doubt her. He didn’t say a word as he took a step closer. The scent of his woodsy aroma wafted under her nose and begged her to inch closer to smell it again. Defying the urge, she took a half step back.

“I’m Waylon, by the way,” he replied. Taking her chain in one hand and undoing the lock that restrained her to the wall, he led her to the door. “You were captured two months ago. For a while, you were kept in the infirmary since no one knew when you would wake from the drugs you were given. Then right before you truly came-to, you were moved to that cell, now here.”

She was flabbergasted. All the air rushed from her like she’d been struck in the chest. Two months of her life were gone and the sad part was she couldn’t remember half of what happened. She recalled being at her father’s cottage and having supper with him. When she woke, she was already in that cell. Maybe it was for the best she couldn’t remember.

More than anything, she wanted to break down and cry. But with this man here, she wouldn’t give him or anyone else the satisfaction of seeing her despair. She hadn’t cried in years and be cursed if she would start now.

Karlyn looked away. Her gaze went to the moon. It was the only constant thing for her now. The rise of the sun and moon would be her companions until she could break free. And right now, the moon was beginning to fade.

“Come with me, Karlyn,” Waylon told her quietly.

She arched a brow, but said nothing in relation to him knowing who she was. She assumed the translator or the pungent king must’ve said something about her, and that’s where Waylon got it from.

“Aren’t you coming?” he prodded softly at the door. He opened it, casting the outside world in moonlight. “You can see the moon better from out here.”

In a shocked emotional conundrum, she turned her head toward Waylon and asked, “Where am I going?”

Waylon smiled wryly. “After two months, you smell terrible.”

He tried to joke with his light tone, but she flushed a deep red.

Karlyn pursed her lips. “I would imagine so.”

Waylon winced, his face softening slightly. “Don’t worry. I’m taking you to the bathing house and I’ll bring you some fresh clothes and a meal.”

She smiled wryly at him. It was kind of him to take her to bathe, but there was a problem: she was chained. How was she going to wash her hair? But dirty hair or not, a bath sounded pleasurable. If it was a quick wash or a long soak, it didn’t matter; soap and water would feel good no matter the conditions.

Quietly, she followed Waylon out the solid oak door to the open wall-walk before the path led to another door. Karlyn smirked. The little man is cunning. On either side of the path was a straight drop down to the stone inner bailey. Guards across from her stood on the wall-walk with crossbows ready. She was secluded in a tower, and the only way out was a long, twenty-foot stretch to a guarded door if she wasn’t struck down first.

As Waylon promised, the moon was brighter outside in the open. But it was also brighter due to the coming sunrise. Karlyn sighed. Two months ago was the last time she saw the moon. She closed her eyes, basking in its beautiful light. She had taken advantage of so much. Even though her life wasn’t the greatest back where she came from, she had liberties she didn’t have now like taking a bath with oils, watching the sunset across the valley, riding her favorite mare, or even dining in the great hall with other assassins like her. Now she was stuck as a prize mare and chained, so she didn’t escape or kill.

Whether she intended to or not, she sat down on the only step and cried. All her life, she was told how worthless she was compared to her brothers; and to prove her worth, she became the best killer in her order. Karlyn did whatever she could to gain a modicum of her father’s praise, his affection, any tiny morsel of love to be cast her way. And it was for naught. It stung her heart, realizing now Nisus had never loved her. She was merely a pawn in his game for control and money. It just took her this long to realize what he was really like. The hope for something different outshone the reality of what was already there.

May the Gods curse that man, she wept. I will never take this life for granted again. When I get away, I’m going to do all the things I’ve always wanted to do.

She cried in her hands. Her life was over and it never got the chance to truly begin. She’d never truly lived. She wanted to travel across the world and settle down in the place she liked most; buy a home, and have kids, but now she was trapped by King Thornburg; too weak to fight back and escape.

“Here,” Waylon said, handing her a square piece of cloth.

Karlyn sniffed. “Thanks.”

She inhaled deep, dabbing at her eyes and wiping her nose. She looked away, watching the men on the right pace back and forth on the wall-walk.

Waylon turned away from her, leaning against the short stone wall and peering down. “What is it that you said?”

Confused, she looked at him. “I said something out loud?”

“Aye, you did. In your language, though. What did you say?”

She nodded, wiping her eyes. “I said, I will never take life for granted again. Two months of my life are gone. I would’ve rather died than be here and rot. So, if I ever get free, I’m going to actually live, do things I want to do, see the world and carry a different perspective.”

Karlyn wiped her eyes and crossed her legs. She could cry later. Shaking her hands out at her sides, she flexed her fingers until the knuckles cracked. She needed to keep her wits about her, discover a means to escape and take it. More than likely, she had one shot at this to get away.

Waylon nodded. He extended his hand to help her up. Silently, she stood. She followed him through two sets of heavily guarded locked doors. It occurred to her that Thornburg wanted to keep her locked up and secluded. All of them kept a watchful gaze on her with their hands readied on their weapons.

Smart men, she thought. Karlyn didn’t utter a word once Waylon opened the door, leading her inside. Their leery gaze watched her every move, some going as far as curling their upper lip. It always amazed her how people could be so terrified of things they didn’t know anything about, or cared to understand, or even people who were slightly different in speech or skin color. The people here were no different. They were terrified of her, whether it was due to her appearance, skin color, or the fact she was a killer. She wasn’t a mean person; she just had a terrible profession.

“Where are you taking the prisoner?” demanded a guard.

“Firstly, watch whom you’re addressing. Secondly, I’m taking her to bathe,” Waylon replied levelly, jerking a thumb in her direction. “Step aside.”

The man bowed his head and stepped aside. Waylon yanked on her chain and she followed. Six men followed behind her into the bathhouse. She had handled worse, but this should prove interesting.

After inhaling the sweet aroma of the bathhouse, she carefully took in all her surroundings, tactically acknowledging all the exits, and items she could possibly use as weapons. So far, she found no useful weapon and saw two points of entry. Both were heavily guarded.

Well, drat, she thought. I’m in no shape to really fight. But if I can find a way out of here, I’m gonna take it.

She was getting out while she still had the strength to do so. Karlyn sized up each man, watching their gait and posture to determine how they would swing their swords. After studying her newfound enclosure, and the men who guarded it, she came to the conclusion only three of the men would be trouble. The rest were just mere pawns.

That was a preview of Killing Karlyn. To read the rest purchase the book.

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