Prologue

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I grew up in a small farming town three days south of Camelot.  It was prone to bandit attacks.  So it wasn't uncommon for women to learn how to use a sword.  We lived differently out here. Nobility meant nothing to us. But we protected each other as equals.  We didn't have luxurious lifestyles, but we were happy in our little homes. My father would often regale us with stories of battle before we went to bed. As his only daughter he tended to dote on me more than my brothers.  It did make me get picked on by them often.  One night my father kissed my forehead before bed.  I smiled and grabbed his hand before he turned away.

"What is it, angel?"

"D'ya think one day I'll be a strong warrior like you?"

"Aye," his laugh bellowed through the house, "Ye were swingin' swords around before ye could walk."

"But they say since I'm a girl-"

"Yer brothers feedin' ye that nonsense again? Some of the best fighters by my side have been women." He leaned closer to my ear, "one day ye'll be bossin' them around. But not without a good night's sleep."

I curled up under the bed.  One of my brothers threw their pillow at me. Told me to stop dreaming of being a warrior. I threw the pillow back at him.  I don't know why that is what I dreamed of, but it was.  At night I had these dreams. Always the same.  There were faces I could make out. But I could sense great pain, fear and resolve.  The idea of that kind of life excited me. When I was fourteen, my dad left for a battle. A month after his departure bandits raided the town.  My brothers were out in the field. I scooped our respective swords and ran out of the house. They ran towards me and armed themselves.

"Get back in the house, ____," the eldest snapped.

"I can fight, too."

With that my sword thrust towards a man running up behind my brother.  I'll never forget his face. That was the first man I killed.  I had injured, and maimed, others before.  But I never dealt a killing blow. My body froze in place. It was my other brother that shoved me out of the way of an attack.  He parried it and moved forward. Other men and women ran out to fight, few fled their homes. I knocked one of the men from their horses.  Just a moment of hesitation before I drove the sword into his chest.  A familiar voice cried out. We turned to see our mother at the hands of the bandits. Everything slowed as I stared ahead. My brothers both lunged forward. They were too late.  I stared as my mother's eyes went lifeless.  A rage welled within me.  The blade swung into the bodies of the intruders. I passed both of my brothers with incredible speed. The blade drove straight through his chest before I gave a rough twist of the blade. He stumbled backwards. The sword dropped from my hand. The last few bandits fled from the town. I fell to my knees before my mother. She was gasping for air.  Her hand tore the necklace she had always been wearing. Her bloodied hand dropped it into mine.

"This heirloom was passed down from my mother, and her mother before her.  It's your turn to take it."

"You're going to be fine.  Don't-"

"Darling, your father always said you'd be a great warrior. You showed such bravery today.  You've got a great journey ahead of you," she coughed before squeezing my hand closed over the necklace, "take care of your brothers. Tell your father I-"

Her body went limp in my arms. I shook with anger. My eyes darted around I wanted one of them to be left.  Most of them had begun to retreat. The necklace slipped into my pocket. I started after one of the stragglers after picking up my weapon.  Just before I reached him something pierced into my neck.  The world around me began to slow. In moments I was against the dirt.  My breathing was ragged. Before anyone could tend to me a man on horseback grabbed me off the ground. He deftly tossed me in front of him as my body lifelessly bounced with each gallop.  They were slave traders and what few of us they could gather they took far from our homes.
  
    
Buyers came and looked us over like livestock. Some men offered that I would make them a lot of money. But that was only until the restraints were removed.  I'd attack anyone interested in me as though I was a feral beast.  I was taken from my home and family; and I refused to be sold off without a fight. They finally found another group of bandits that claimed to have some use for me. Sadly I knew what that meant. I had been dragged across the continent, just to be shown off.  The last stop before my destination was a city about half a day's travel from Camelot. If I could get there I should be safe from this life. I might even be able to go home. It had been four years of savages trying to sell me to the highest bidder.  I wonder how my father and brothers coped with losing mother and myself.  I was testing the quality of the ropes that bound my wrists.  Another prisoner kicked my leg enough to catch my attention.

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