Book II Teaser - Chapter Three Excerpt

Tears streaming down her face, a young mother scurried here and there in a panicked frenzy, racing through her home like all the evils of the world were chasing after her. Huddled together under the kitchen table, her children watched on helplessly as she hurried to lock the windows and barricade the door with a chair. In the grand scheme of things, none of what she did was going to matter; even she understood that. But at the same time, it was all she knew to do.

Rather, it was all she could do.

“Mommy! I’m scared!” her daughter cried out, gripping her brother by the arm.

“Not now, Percilla!”

“Mommy! I want daddy!”

“DAMNIT PERCILLA! I said not now!”

Peeping through the slats in the shutters, the woman’s heart sank when her eyes landed on the figures amassing out in the distance. Not even a quarter mile away, rounding the bend in the old dirt road, a group of horsemen stampeded in their direction. There were hundreds of them. Maybe even thousands. Barreling across the countryside, they poured over the hill like a swarm of ants, each of them more ready than the last to devour whatever they could get their hands on.

Filled with panic, the woman staggered away from the window, hardly able to make sense of what she was seeing, much less what might become of her children. She knew right then and there that she’d never get to watch them grow old. That she’d never see them get married or have kids of their own one day. Never have the chance to hold them again or sing them a soothing lullaby. No, she’d never get to see any of that. But at least she could still try to keep them alive.

“Hamish,” the poor woman finally muttered.

“Yes, Mama?!” he whimpered back.

“Take care of your sister.”

“MOMMY!” Percilla shrieked.

Realizing just how dire the situation was, the girl’s brother pulled her in close, wrapping his arms around her and cradling her like a baby. And then, being the good big brother he was, he did the unthinkable.

He lied.

“Everything’s going to be okay, Percilla! I promise! I won’t let anything happen to you!”

“Hamish! I’m scared!”

“I know! I am too! But listen to me! I’ll–”

Before he could finish, his words were drowned out by the sound of hooves thundering just outside their home. Too scared to move, the three of them went deathly quiet. They didn’t make a sound. Didn’t move a muscle. They barely even breathed.

For what felt like an eternity, time slowed to a crawl.

And then all at once, everything came crashing down.

SMASH!

Without warning, the shutters burst open, sending shards of glass and splintered wood flying across the room! Doing his best to shield his sister’s eyes, Hamish watched as a pair of horsemen reared back and tossed in a set of torches before riding off to continue their rampage. Instinctively, his mother rushed over and tried to trample out the flames, first with her feet and then with the furls of her dress. Realizing that wouldn’t work, Hamish scurried out from under the table and grabbed the second torch, flinging it back outside before it had a chance to set the rug ablaze. Coming to her senses, his mother quickly followed suit.

Standing near the window, Hamish paused for a moment as his mind struggled to make sense of what he was seeing. Bodies lined the streets. Blood was splattered across nearby houses. Plumes of black smoke billowed up into the sky as screams echoed all around him.

It was carnage – utter madness. And for the small village known simply as Acre, it was only the beginning.

Suddenly, Hamish caught a glimpse of something along the western hill overlooking the township, close to where the fields met the tree line. From what he could make out, it looked like a man, but what man in their right mind would be standing up there at a time like this?

Narrowing his gaze, Hamish studied the figure closer.

To his amazement, it was a man, but not like any man he’d ever seen before. This man was tall and naked, with skin that looked like tanned leather and limbs that glistened in the morning sun. In his hands, he was holding a pair of daggers, and across his chest, he had what looked like the tattoo of a burning tree. Despite all that however, what unsettled Hamish more than anything else was the hideous mask adorning the man’s face. It looked like the cross between a boar’s head and a deformed bear, with tusks that protruded out the front and blood smeared across the forehead.

That mask. That gruesome, godforsaken mask. It made the wearer look more like a demon than an actual man; an unholy apparition sent there with the sole purpose of dragging people to hell and tormenting their souls in the most grotesque ways imaginable.

Little did Hamish know, he planned on doing just that.

Both terrified and fascinated, he watched as the man raised both daggers high above his head. Then, in a loud, gurgling voice, he shouted something in a language Hamish couldn’t understand.

At first, nothing happened - only silence. Then, they came.

Like a pack of rabid wolves, hundreds of warriors charged out of the wood line and down that cursed hill! Some carried spears. Some carried swords. Some were clothed in bits of leather armor and others were completely nude. However, despite their differences, one thing remained the same. They were without a doubt the largest men Hamish had ever seen, and each one of them looked more terrifying than the last.

“HAMISH!” his mother shrieked, wrapping her arms around him and jerking him away from the window.

All at once, he felt like he’d been kicked by a mule as the two of them fell forward, landing face first along the floor. Coming to his senses, he realized that his mother was still lying on top of him, pinning him to the ground. Too scared to move, he laid there for a few seconds, waiting for her to pick herself up. Only, she never did.

Listening to his sister burst into a fit of dreadful screaming, Hamish somehow found the strength to crawl his way out. However, when he turned around to help his mother up off the floor, he nearly collapsed.

Six arrows were sticking out of her body. Four in her back, one in her leg, and one lodged deep inside her skull. Blood was everywhere. All over the floor. All over the new rug. All over Hamish.

“MOMMY!” Percilla squealed. “MOMMY, GET UP!”

She didn’t move.

Trembling, Hamish reached down and gave her a gentle nudge. An eyeball fell from her skull and rolled across the floor.

Mortified, Hamish jerked his hand away and staggered back into the center of the room. Outside the window, he could hear the army of hulking men racing down the hillside.

He wanted to run, but his legs wouldn’t move.

He wanted to scream, but his mouth wouldn’t open.

He wanted to die, but he was already in hell.

BOOM!

The floor shook with an unexpected thud.

Looking over, Hamish realized one of the horsemen had been flung through the window and into the den. Scurrying under the table, he’d just managed to grab hold of his sister when, all of a sudden, another figure leapt in after him, tackling the rider into the wall. For what felt like ages, the two men wrestled with each other, until eventually the rider slumped to the ground, blood spewing from his neck where he’d been stabbed with a shard of glass. However, no sooner did the madness subside, when the door to the home burst open, sending everything spiraling back into chaos.

Again, a struggle broke out as two men flung each other here and there, nearly breaking the table Hamish and his sister were hiding under. Instinctively, Percilla went to scream, but Hamish quickly covered her mouth. A few seconds later and the other rider was knocked to the floor, his assailant wrapping his massive hands around his head, squeezing it like a melon. Unable to escape, the horseman let out a bloodcurdling scream as his skull began to crackle and pop. Pink fluid oozed from his ears. His eyes bulged from their sockets. His tongue turned purple and black.

CRACK!

In an instant, the horseman’s body went completely limp, his limbs convulsing uncontrollably. From what Hamish could tell, he didn’t look like he was dead. But then again, he didn’t look like he was alive either.

As another eerie silence fell over the room, the two children watched as the remaining warrior picked himself up and went to leave. However, just as he was about to exit the door, he paused and turned back to the table. Again, Percilla went to scream, and again, Hamish tightened his hand around her mouth. Drawing closer, the man came to a stop near the edge of the table. And then, like the harbinger of death he was, he knelt down and locked eyes with the two of them.

Staring at him was like staring into hell itself; an endless abyss filled with every manner of fury imaginable. Covered in blood from head to toe, his entire body was shaved completely bald, and he had more scars than anyone could ever count.

To Hamish and Percilla, he looked like a monster.

To the Lord of Norland, they looked like a waste of time.

Leaning forward, he whispered a single word.

“Run…”

And run they did!

Leaping up, they both darted out of the house as fast as their feet could carry them. With the wind at their backs and the sun on their faces, they made a mad dash across the open plane toward the distant walls of Hanseti. If they could just make it to the gate house, they’d be safe. If they could just make it out of that field, they’d be free. If they could just keep each other alive, they’d be alright.

But only the strong survive. And as for Percilla, she never even made it out of that meadow.