Chapter One The tiny village was wrapped in slumber. Its thick walls were secured keeping out the beasts and those who sought to harm them. Inside the walls, small shacks made of thatch formed a ring around the bigger, nicer houses that held the dignitaries or those who had money. In the very center of the village was the mayor's home, a multistory dwelling that held the mayor and his fat wife as well as their beautiful daughter. The attack came at night while the village slept; the watchers on the wall too much at ease since it had been so quiet of late. One lone scout slunk through the shadows toward the center of the village, finding the home of the mayor of the small village. He came in through an unbarred window, slicing at the mayor's sleeping form. The mayor woke for just an instant, just as the intruder sliced his throat, leaving him gurgling in his own blood. His wife fared little better, though she slept through the attack, not even flinching when a sword was thrust through her heart. He left them there, blood dripping from their wounds, soaking through the linen bed clothes and puddling on the rush covered floor of the house. His eyes wandered through the richly appointed rooms, searching for the most treasured of items in the house. He found her-a young girl of eighteen summers sound asleep in her bed. A smile formed upon his mottled face. She was beautiful with her golden hair and flawless pink and cream skin. Her breasts rose and fell in sleep under the linen shift that she wore. It clung to her curves as she'd kicked off the blankets, molding to her rounded hips and giving hint to the color of her nipples in the light of the fire that burned brightly in her room. Clasping a hand over her mouth, the scout lifted her in his arms, binding her in the blankets so that she could not move. He carried the girl quickly and easily through the house, slipping out the front door and keeping to the shadows. He was in and out so quickly that his presence was like a nightmare: a shadowed dream, slipping through the night to haunt minds and terrify children. The burden on his shoulders barely registered upon his mind, set as he was to do his master's bidding. Even as she kicked and squirmed in his arms, he never lost sight of his duty to bring the girl to his master . The road flew behind him as he ran lightly down the paths outside the gates of the village. The moon touched the night with an aura of silver, creating patterns of evil creatures from the shadows of the bare trees. He passed them by with nary a glance...running...always running. He had a mighty stitch in his side and his breath whistled from his over-taxed lungs but he dared not stop. Night was quickly coming to an end and he could not be found on these paths with the sun's dawning. "Quiet," he hissed at the bundled girl. "Quiet or I shall find a way to make you quiet." The girl, though slight, was strong. She fought against her captor, kicking and flaying, tossing her head until the blanket loosened around her mouth. Then she screamed, a sound full of rage and terror. "I killed your parents, girl, not much would stop me from gutting you as well," he hissed. The threat, instead of halting her wriggling, set her determination. She managed to uncover her hands, her breath showing white in the cold night air as she pushed and hit at the ugly man who held her captive. "You lie," she screamed, unwilling to believe that her beloved parents were gone. "Tell me you lie," she ordered, her hand slapping at his head. A roar split the night, the sound sending a cold chill to touch the man's nerve. "Quiet," he ordered the girl again, not wanting to draw notice to himself and give the beast a chance to hunt him. The roar sounded closer and he added speed to his already over-taxed legs, stumbling down the trail, the sound of death's roar growing closer with every moment. The girl saw the beast first. It was one of the big lions, its head surrounded by a thick ruff of black fur. Its fangs were huge, glittering in the moonlight and the beginning light of dawn. With paws the size of dinner plates, it padded along behind them, growing closer with every step. Her captor glanced over his shoulder, his eyes wide. He had but a bit more to get the girl to the castle and his awaiting master. Keeping one eye on the beast, he tried once more to increase his speed, but it was nigh on impossible. His chest heaved, his legs shook as he forced them to move. A hint of dawn colored the eastern sky, alerting him of more dangers than just the beast behind him. "Arghhh," he growled loudly, rushing forward even faster. The huge black gate of his master's fortress was ahead and he called out quickly. Fierce and ugly beasts stood upon the wall, bows at the ready even as they nocked their arrows. "I bring the girl," he shouted. The wide black gate moved slowly, opening just enough for him to squeeze through with his prize. As it closed behind him, he could hear the great cat growl, roaring its loss to the world in general. His chest rose and fell as he fought to catch his breath; finally he pushed away from the gate, his prize still slung over his shoulder. "I must see the master," he called. "I bring him a great gift." "I shall be the judge of that," the master said, appearing in the doorway of the ancient keep, waving him in even as the first ray of dawn's light touched the ground. The gate shimmered in the light, growing wispy and eerie until the great fortress disappeared from sight, leaving untouched forests and a path to nowhere in its wake. The great lion with its huge ruff of black fur shook then roared its fury, sniffing and pawing at the ground where the gate had been. Nigel moved forward, his deference in every ounce of his posture as he capered in front of the master who now sat on his huge black throne. "It is the girl, master," Nigel called. "I bring you the one you've sought." "Show me!" the master ordered. He watched as the squat man laid the girl gently upon the ground, unwrapping her with a toss of his arm. For an instant, he was spellbound at the beauty brought before him. Her hair was so light as to be almost silver in the dim light of the flaming torches, her eyes were the blue of the ocean waves that splashed along the shore. Her body was lush, dressed in naught but a thin layer of linen that gave hint to the color of her nipples as well as the bountiful beauty of her legs and that small mound that lay between. She fought with the long thick tresses of her hair, finally pushing them out of her face so that she could see her captor, gifting the master with a fierce glance that threatened harm to him if he didn't stay away from her. "Rise, girl, stand before me as is fitting of the one who shall reign beside me," he said. "There is nothing you could say that would make me reign with you," she growled, though she did rise to her feet, not eager to face her captors in a tangled mess of blankets. "I insist you return me to my parents' home." The master looked over to where Nigel stood, his brow cocked and a question in his eyes. Nigel took his finger and slashed it through the air by his throat. "Your parents, my pretty one, are dead. There is no going back for you now." "What?" Luria Bloodstone felt her heart fall and a sob grew in her chest. "You're lying. I won't believe you unless you show me proof." "Nigel, show our guest your sword." Nigel pulled the short sword from a filthy sheath, smiling as he showed the girl the blood that stained the battered blade. "I used this to kill them, child. They are dead." Luria's stomach turned and she fell to her knees, staring at the bloodstained sword. "No," she whispered, shaking her pretty head. "No, it is not theirs. It cannot be theirs." "Rise girl," the master growled, tiring quickly of her drama. "I must know. Do you bear the mark?" He was eager to know for sure that this was indeed the bride he'd been promised, the one who would bare his child and give him the power he'd been promised so long ago. "What mark?" Luria asked, though her mind was on her parents and their deaths. "Come here, child," he said, his hand held out. Luria did as he asked, unaware of what he'd planned for her. "Come and let me see."