Shadows & Lace (Spellbound Prequel)

Chapter 1: Vigilante

Ossol, Kingdom of Breoch
Year 104 of Leahra, Second Age

"The king is bleeding us dry with his taxes!"

A murmur of agreement from the crowd followed the desperate merchant's statement. Braithe shifted a little in the rafters to better see the room below. The Merchants' Guild Hall was bustling, its members gathered for their monthly assembly.

"My cousin had to close his shop last week!" Another merchant chimed in.

"I will go to debtors' prison if they don't let up soon!" The hall erupted in similar cries of despair and anger. Not one member seemed to be safe from the tax collectors.

Braithe shook her head, saddened by their struggles. The Kingdom of Breoch was in a terrible state, and the complaints of the merchants were unfortunately only part of it. Her gaze scanned the crowd below as the meeting continued, her eyes coming back to a man she had noticed earlier. He didn't look like he belonged, and she wasn't the only one who had noticed. The men and women of the guild were also casting him suspicious glares.

He didn't speak, standing at the back of the room observing. Was he a spy sent by the authorities? If so, he was a bad one. His clothing was finer than anyone else's in the room, making him stand out like a sore thumb. When the assembly broke up not much later, he left before anyone else.

Braithe climbed down from the rafters into the attic space. Pulling the hood on her coif up, she fastened the piece that covered the bottom half of her face, leaving only her eyes visible. It was dark out, but she couldn't be too careful. The bandages wound tightly around her upper body to give the appearance of a flat chest were chafing, and she was looking forward to getting home to take them off.

Slipping out into the night, she kept her head down as she followed the streets of Ossol to where she'd agreed to meet Lyssa. She didn't make it more than a block before hearing the sound of a scuffle. It was too late for the tax collectors to be out harassing the citizens, but desperate times created desperate people and she'd come across more than one robbing during her excursions. She hurried her steps.

Around the corner, she found the stranger from the meeting under attack by three men. While he was defending himself relatively well, he didn't stand a chance one to three. Braithe cursed under her breath and pulled out her daggers before running into the group. The first attacker went down from a knock to the back of his head by the butt of her dagger before anyone had noticed her presence. The moment of surprise allowed her the chance to crouch low and kick the second man's legs out from underneath him. She didn't want to kill or seriously hurt anyone; they were usually only disgruntled citizens.

The stranger and third attacker had halted their fighting to stare at her, both looking equally shocked.

As she advanced on them, the attacker's eyes widened. "It's you!" he gasped and raised his hands. "We don't want any trouble. We thought the king sent him! We're on your side!"

"Scram," Braithe ordered, keeping her voice low. As far as anyone knew, she was a young man, and she wanted to keep it that way.

The man helped his mate up from the ground, and together they carried the unconscious one between them down the street. Turning to the stranger, Braithe sheathed her daggers again. He was rather handsome, she supposed. Tall and lithe with a wiry build, a shock of dark curls brushed back from his face. In the dim light from the flickering light posts she couldn't tell what colour his eyes were, but dark lashes, a shade darker than his hair, framed them.

"I had heard that Ossol had a vigilante." The stranger almost sounded amused. "Definitely didn't expect to meet him. Thank you for helping me."

"You're not from around here."