Death Dealer series

I've been thinking of posting the start (and hopefully all some day) of a trilogy my friend and I are working on. I want to post it on NF, but I'd like to know I will get some amount of constructive feedback on it before I do.

The story centers around a countess named Grace, who is stripped of her title and loses everything. So she must learn to survive in the underbelly of her country and she befriends a number of "dishonorable" folk such as thieves, pirates, and murderers.

That sounds like a cool story, Nikia. I'm sure we'd love to read it.

I'm glad you think so. I'm hoping others will respond soon and I'm working on transferring the first few chapters to my computer as we speak.

hey that actually sounds sweet! i'd like to read it. i'm into stuff like that.

Prologue: The Death Dealer Appears

In the forests of the northern province, Agranis, a young woman fled for her life. She was a simple farmer’s daughter and had nothing, but it did not stop the advancing highway robber. Her legs ached from running and he would soon be on her.

“Come on, puppet, just a little kiss for old George!” A large hand grabbed the back of her neck. “Play nice with us, love, we won’t bite.”

“Please, I beg you, I have nothing!”

“There’s always something a woman can offer,” he sneered and began to drag her back down the road.

She kicked and tried to resist, but the robber was overpowering. “Help! Someone!”

George slapped her hard across the face, “No one’s going to come to your aid, missy. Just you and George out tonight.”

The leaves overhead rustled. George looked up, but saw nothing. In his moment of distraction the farmer’s daughter pulled away, ripping a bit of her dress as she started to run again. George was too fast for her; he pulled her back and threw her to the ground.

“You really are a stupid girl aren’t you?”

The trees rustled again, but George did not heed it this time, that would be his downfall. George did not see the figure jump from the trees and land soundlessly behind him. The young girl did.

“Ready to meet the makers, little girl?”

“The question is, are you?” An icy voice spoke behind George.

The robber turned and saw a figure outfitted as an executioner. Two pale eyes peeked out from under the executioner’s hood and gleamed in the pale moonlight. A sword was drawn and pointed directly at George. The figure was small, short and scrawny; he did not look as though he would be able to take down George.

“What’s this? A little boy playing dress-up? Run along home, boy, this is a man’s job.”

George reached out to grab the sword arm of the figure, but he was too slow. The executioner moved faster than George had seen anyone move in a long time and he worked the sword with a great deal of skill. George barely felt a thing. The farmer’s daughter screamed in disgust and horror as the scarred hand of George hit the ground.

The robber pulled back in fear, clutching his wrist where there had once been a hand. The figure advanced and George pulled away. He fled as the figure drew the sword up once more.

Turning his attention to the girl, “Are you alright?” He held out a hand, but she refused it and got to her feet on her own.

“I’m fine.” The executioner nodded and began to walk away, “Wait!” But he didn’t heed her.

* * * *

In the port city of Glenbard everyone was buzzing with the news of the man who rode through Agranis helping whoever called for aid.

“It’s about time someone gave a damn about us in the lower classes. The Death Dealer is actually keeping us safe, unlike King Frederick’s soldiers who claim to protect us.” The barkeeper of Angel’s Tavern said when the latest bit of news hit the city.

“The Death Dealer, such a foul name. Has he even killed anyone yet?” A teenage girl asked.

“Ridley you foolish thing, who cares what he’s called?” the barkeep said, “Just as long as he keeps protecting the less well to do people of this kingdom.”

Ridley rolled her eyes, “But he could have other, grander names, the Death Dealer is low brow for such a great hero.”

“A great hero?” The tavern fell silent as the usual brooding figure in the corner spoke. Very few in the tavern had seen him move from his spot, much less speak openly.

“Yes a great hero, Jack,” Ridley snapped, “He cares about us down-trodden folk.”

“Cares? He sounds rather self-serving to me. Rides around Agranis on a fine horse with a fine sword, I say this Death Dealer should be handing out some of his wealth. That would really help. He’s probably some noble looking for favor in the court’s eyes, once he gains that he will forget about us. They always do.”

“You sound awfully sure of yourself, Jack.” The barkeep said. “But you can’t honestly believe this man will abandon us as other nobles have, I mean look at…”

“Look at the lives he’s saved, I know. But mark my words, once he gets what he wants, the Death Dealer will be done with us. Heroes are fleeting men who serve no one but themselves.” Jack fell silent and returned to his ale, leaving everyone to ponder his words.

Wow, that's a great start, Nikia. You wouldn't, by chance, happen to have any more you can post now, do you?

I have a bit from Chapter One, but there's a little more I want to add, I might have it up for tomorrow or later tonight though.

good start! now i thought this wasd about a countess; who can't be the Death Dealer because it said it was a scrawny 'he'. does Grace come in soon?
i know you just posted the first bit, but i have a tendency to get aweful confused if i dont straighten thigns out in the beginning.

Wow, really cool, I look forward to reading more

Chapter One: The Countess of Arganis

Tristan of Escion came from the southern most province of Cesarnan. When Tristan was a young boy his father, the duke of Escion, sent him to become a knight in the kingdom’s main city. For years Tristan trained hard and long until his twentieth birthday rolled around and he was knighted by Frederick.

Tristan returned to Escion, but the king called upon him when war threatened the land. Tristan was a fine and well respected knight. And every year his father made him go into the city for the king’s tournament.

Tristan tried to avoid going, but there was no way out. He had been going for as long as he could remember. Now that his father was a retired knight it was up to Tristan to compete in the tournament for Escion.

Every year was the same too. Princess Elisabeth flirted endlessly with him and his parents pushed for him to flirt back. Tristan had no real interest in the princess. She was beautiful and kind, but rather dull. She did not like to ride or venture far from the castle. The young knight could not see himself marrying her.

Tristan sighed loudly as the caravan from Escion entered the castle gates of the king. All the same houses would be there. Actis, Escion, Ursana, Salatia, and Egona, as usual the province of Agranis would not be there. They never were.

Tristan had one memory of Agranis ever coming to the tournament. The count had been one of the king’s favorite knights. Not long after returning to Agranis the count had died. It was said that the count’s brother took over Agranis, but he was not a fun loving man. He was no knight and so the province never returned. Tristan had been eight when the count died.

* * * *

Tristan’s mother cast her son an angry glance, “Do not be so moody. And give the princess some attention this year.”

“Mother please, I cannot spend all my time with the princess. She is nice enough, but she is so dull to talk too.”

“I do not care. She likes you and so does King Frederick. Do not mess anything up.”

Tristan rolled his eyes and dismounted his horse. He smiled when he saw Prince Drake coming from the stables. “Drake, you dog.”

The prince pretended like he was going to punch Tristan, but then pulled him into a bear hug. “Good to see you.”

“A pity it has to be for the tournament. The same, boring tournament. Where Lord Benjamin from Salatia always wins. Then your sister always throws herself at him, as do all the young women. And we loser knights are left to wallow in defeat.”

“This year is going to be different.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because this year a knight has come from Agranis.”

A silence fell between the two friends. “But who? The count was killed, having had no sons, and his brother was no knight.”

“Count Daniel had two brothers. George took over governing of Arganis when Daniel died. His other brother, Leon, has a son and he has trained and become a fine knight. He has recently entered knighthood and he is ready to compete.”

“Well then, perhaps it was worth coming out to the tournament this year.”

* * * *

Grace Hilren had only been to the city once in her life, when she was seven, her father’s last tournament. That had been nearly thirteen years ago. Things were much as she remembered them. She even suspected she had the same room as before. There were two beds in the room. At the age of seven she had shared the room with Cassandra. Now at twenty she still shared the room with her loyal handmaiden.

The young woman opened the shudders to let the room air out a bit. It was warmer in Ursana, where the king kept his summer castle. Grace was unused to such blistering heat this early in spring.

Grace had been born in the far north province of Agranis. It was a prosperous province of the kingdom of Cesarnan. It was also the only province to see snow in the winter. Though snowfall was rare in Agranis it was still possible. Right now in Arganis the weather was pleasant, certainly not too cold and far from hot. Ursana was a complete climate change, spring had only just begun and Grace felt as though summer had hit her.

She sighed; it had been so long since she was out of Arganis. The last time she had really ventured anywhere was just before her father’s death. Her father was the count and a well respected knight in the halls of King Frederick. However when Grace was but seven years her father died after being thrown from his horse. His neck was broken from the fall and he died instantly.

Her mother was unfit to take control of Agranis and therefore married her husband’s brother and allowed him to govern. Her mother become like a ghost. She barely left her room, she just sat there and lamented for her dear dead husband.

Since her father’s death Grace felt as though her life was a dream. Each day she wandered aimlessly around the manor house they lived in. Not speaking much. Her childhood friends and servants, Cassandra and Donald, were her touch with reality. She was becoming a ghost like her mother.

It wasn’t until Grace was thirteen that she awoke from her dream. She and Donald were out for a ride through the woods of Agranis when they came upon a young girl being bullied by some men. Donald scared them off, but Grace sat there, unable to do anything. She realized then that her grief for her father had lasted too long and she needed to help other whose grief was still near. Grace decided to be selfish no more.

With her cousin, Calvin’s help, Grace began to train with a sword and bow. She worked hard under the arms master in Agranis and trained alongside her cousin who was working to gain his shield. When she felt she was ready Cassandra helped sew an executioner’s hood for her and Grace had a leather jerkin made to fit her small form. That had been barely a year ago that she first became what people these days were calling the Death Dealer. She was not fond of the name, but there was little she could do to change that.

* * * *

Grace looked out onto the rolling hills of Ursana. Calvin had insisted she come with him to the king’s tournament. He felt it would do her good to get away from her mother and mingle with other members of the noble class. Grace disagreed; there was little the nobles could offer her here. She sighed and looked away from the window. The room was empty, leaving Grace with an uncomfortable feeling. For a tournament ground, everything was too quiet.

She crossed the room and opened one of her bags, the black jerkin and hood looked back at her. She pulled out the hood and put it over left hand, her sword hand. “You have already become a legend,” she whispered to the hood. The empty eyeholes just stared back at her.

A loud rap at the door caused Grace to jump. She quickly stashed the hood back into her bag and threw the bag into a corner. “Come in,” she called to the knocker.

The rather plump frame of Cassandra opened the door, much to Grace’s relief. “Milady, they are calling for everyone to come down to the feast. The king has prepared it for the knights on the eve of the tournament, Calvin sent me to find you, and you are already late.”

Grace let out a groan she had tried hard to suppress. Cassandra looked at her lady and shook her head, she knew Grace Hilren better than anyone and she knew what Grace wanted to do rather than feast at the king’s table.

Cassandra softly closed the chamber door and moved closer so Grace would hear her whisper, “There will be plenty of time for that, later. Right now you are expected at the feast and there is no time for you to change into proper dinner attire. You will just have to go as you are.”

Cassandra looked over Grace. The girl had not even bothered to put her hair up, her auburn locks fell past her shoulders and looked as though Grace hadn’t even taken the time to brush them out since she had woken up. Her dress was a plain forest green with a faded gold trim. The other women of the court would look at young Grace as though she were little more than a servant, but there was no time to change her look.

“Brush your hair at least.”

Grace rolled her eyes and grabbed her brush off the dresser. A few brush strokes made a world of difference. She looked less like a vagabond now.

“Hurry up, your cousin is waiting for you, so he may escort you to dinner.”

* * * *

Chapter One (cont.)

Calvin looked as though he belonged among the court nobles. Grace was at his arm, allowing him to lead her to dinner. She never thought her cousin was one for such social gatherings, but it appeared now that perhaps he did belong here. However, she looked nothing like the other ladies. Grace was far from interested in this. She hoped Calvin would allow her to leave as soon as the feast was over.

“Young Calvin of Arganis?” An older woman snaked through the crowd and stopped before Grace and Calvin. Grace immediately disliked her, her eyes were condescending as she looked at Grace, her smile was fake, and her tone of voice made Grace think one word, “phony.”

“Oh Calvin, it has been some years since you have been here. Two years was it? When you earned your shield?” Calvin nodded politely, “And I hear you are competing this year. How exciting.” She clapped her hands and giggled, Grace forced out a smile when the woman looked at her, expecting some sort of response.

“And who is this lovely lady?”

“Duchess Katherine of Actis, may I introduce my cousin, the future Countess of Arganis, Grace Hilren.”

Something flashed in Katherine’s eyes as she looked upon Grace again. “Count Daniel’s only child? I am surprised; I thought you would look more like your mother, dear. Countess Dedre was one of the most beautiful women in Cesarnan, you are so plain and you have your father’s eyes, far too wide for a woman.” Katherine smiled again, “I do hope you will sit near us at the feast, Calvin, but I must be off now.”

Grace watched her rush to a group of other women, ranging in age from girls nearer to her age to old grandmothers. She could hardly believe someone had so casually insulted her and then acted as though nothing has happened.

“Do not mind the gossip, the women will except you soon enough.”

Grace looked over at the gaggle of women Katherine was with. The younger ones were giggling as they glanced her way and the older ones were shaking their heads as though Grace was somehow a disappointment.

“Somehow, I highly doubt that.”

* * * *

Grace found herself between Calvin and an extremely fat count from Egona during the feast. Katherine was seated across her and kept giving her disapproving stares. It made Grace so nervous and angry she just picked at her food.

“No wonder you are so skinny,” Henry of Egona said, brandishing a turkey leg at Grace as someone else might shake a finger. “You are missing out on a fantastic feast; King Frederick really went to great lengths this year.”

“I am afraid the atmosphere in this room has caused me to loose my appetite, Count,” She said quietly flashing her eyes quickly in Katherine’s direction.

Henry seemed to understand and nodded, “Do not mind Duchess Katherine. She is a hound and you are simply a fresh piece of meat. She will talk about you and there is little to do that can change it. All the court women are like that, even our fair Queen Bethany takes part in the gossiping around here. But you, you will hopefully be different,” Henry said helping himself to Grace’s roll, “Most ladies let it go and soon join Katherine, but you are disapproving and I do hope you stay that way. It would be nice to have a conversation with a female and not have to worry that what is said is going to be repeated in some circle.”

“I will keep that in mind, though I think you have little to fear. I plan on returning to Arganis as soon as the tournament has ended.”

“You should try to stay a bit longer, the tournament is such a small part of what happens here during the spring and summer months. And if rumors be true you have not been outside your province since Count Daniel died. Think about staying for a while.” Grace nodded and Henry smiled.

“What about you, Grace?” Grace looked up and found a good number of people were staring at her, expecting some sort of answer. In her conversation with Henry, they had missed the larger conversation going on around them.

“Pardon me?”

“You are from Arganis, what do you think of this Death Dealer who rides around the north and deals with those robbers?” Katherine asked. Grace knew she was waiting for her to stumble over her response, to say something unacceptable.

Grace had little time to think of an answer that would be completely accepted by those around her, so she quickly said what she believed they wanted to hear.

“It is a vulgar name for someone who had not yet killed to our knowledge. But I believe he is doing a service by helping rid our fair kingdom of some of those who live only to harm others.” Grace paused, all eyes remained fixed on her.

“I agree,” Henry piped up, taking a break from his food. He gave Grace a quick smile before continuing. “This Death Dealer may be going over the king’s guard and army, but he is protecting the common folk and what is a kingdom without its common folk?”

There were a few nods and words of agreement. Grace looked at Count Henry and smiled; if nothing good came of this trip at least she had found a friend at court.

* * * *

Tristan Anders wished he had been closer to Katherine. He would at least have the chance to get a better look at the young countess of Arganis. She had spent much of her time locked away in her chambers and had been late coming to join everyone else for the feast. He would have to have Katherine introduce them, even though from the looks of it, Katherine was not too fond of the young woman.

Tristan leaned over and whispered to Prince Drake, “The girl, from Arganis, is that Daniel’s only child?”

Drake nodded, “A reserved thing isn’t she? I have hardly seen her to speak to anyone but Calvin and Count Henry. But there is something about her,” Drake paused and looked Grace over from across the feast hall. Her face was turned away and she seemed completely immersed in a conversation with Henry.

“I saw her first,” Tristan gave Drake a light punch on the arm.

“You did not, I saw her when she first arrived and I’m your prince. Do you really want to anger your one day king over a woman?”

“Perhaps over that woman.” Tristan and Drake both looked directly at Grace. As though she sensed eyes upon her she looked up and met their wandering eyes. A shiver ran down Tristan’s spine, a woman had never held his gaze for so long without looking away or blushing. This one just stared back with a great intensity. It seemed unnatural for a woman to stare so.

* * * *

It bothered Grace to have people staring at her, but she would stare right back to make them uncomfortable. It had worked the prince and the other young man both looked away from her piercing stare. She sighed and looked away from them.

“Trying to scare of the lads, are you?” Henry was finishing up the last of his dessert, as he spoke a bit of pie dribbled down his chin and into his beard. He laughed a bit and wiped it off.

“Trying to stop their staring.”

“Let sleeping dogs lie, I always say. If they want to stare let them, might show Katherine and thing or too if Tristan of Escion and Prince Drake are after you. For one thing she might think you plain anymore.”

Grace nodded, she was far from plain, but no one here really knew that. As far as anyone was concerned she was the late Count Daniel and Countess Dedre’s reserved daughter, who did not share her mother’s looks and had her father’s eyes. The less everyone knew the better.

A few guests had begun to get up and follow the king and queen into the great hall for some after dinner dancing. Grace pushed herself away from the table and bowed her head to Henry.

“It was a pleasure to speak to you this evening and hopefully I will have the opportunity again, but for now I am tired and am going to retire.”

Henry rose from his seat and took Grace’s hand, lightly kissing it. “Do not fret about the ladies of this court, young one, it will improve for you, I promise.”

Grace smiled and headed to bed.

Wow, I don't really know what to say except it's really good. I'm loving your story, Nikia. Please continue when your able to post more. *nods*

i am in agreement with Amy; this is very good. I'm curous to see where it goes.

Me three

Chapter Two: The Tournament

Just before sunrise the next morning the hooded and cloaked figure of Grace crept back into her room. Caked in mud and blood she threw herself down on her bed and fell into a quick sleep.

A few hours later Cassandra threw open the shudders of the room and Grace groaned as she was forced out of her sleep. Her servant was standing over her bed wearing a scowl that could turn milk.

“Up,” she said and pulled the sheets from Grace. “You will be late again if you do not get up now.”

“Who cares?” Grace mumbled and covered her head with the pillow.

“I do, it is bad form to miss the first day of the tournament. Now get up, we have to clean you up before you make an appearance.”

Grace sat up in her bed and looked down at herself. Before dropping off to sleep she had only managed to get her hood off. She still wore the jerkin and breeches and her riding boots had left muddy prints on the sheets. She could feel bits of mud stuck to her face and dirt was under her fingernails, but it did not bother her.

“I can go to the tournament like this.”

Cassandra’s face turned a ghostly white and then a bright red, in a matter of seconds. “Do not even joke about that! If anyone in court were to discover you were the Death Dealer you would be hung straight away. You know how King Frederick feels about women doing what he deems men’s work. Please, Grace, do not joke about such things.”

The young woman knew Cassandra was right. Frederick would not think twice about having her killed. Grace got out of bed and followed all of Cassandra’s instructions so she looked presentable for the court.

* * * *

It was not even noon yet and the sun was beating down on the people as people flooded in from all over to see the tournament. The poor, the merchants, and the nobles had all gathered for the opening day. Grace found herself swept up in the excitement of the day.

More people had turned out for the tournament then there were people in Arganis. She vaguely remembered the crowds from when she had come here as a girl, but memories did not prepare her for all the activity. She had arrived with several other court ladies and only glimpsed at the market where the commoners from all over Cesarnan gathered to sell goods and services. Grace was far more interested in that, but Cassandra was keeping her out of trouble, so she would have to explore later.

“Grace, my dear!” Henry’s robust voice brought a smile to her face. He was already seated in the stadium in front of the jousting ring. “Seat here with me. I have saved you a seat.”

Grace lifted her skirts and climbed the few stairs to take the seat next to Henry. He rose and bowed to her, as was custom.

“I thought you would rather not get seated next to the ladies who follow Katherine’s word as though it were law. Besides we did have a lovely conversation last night at the feast, I hope we could continue it.”

“You are a good friend to me,” Grace said, “And far better company than anyone else I have met. Tell me, how will the jousting go? Calvin is to compete today and I do not want to miss him, but I had hoped to see a few rounds of the sword fighting.”

“Sword fighting, eh? Not many nobles make there way down there, they think too many commoners and lesser knights compete. But I will walk down there with you after the first round of jousting. The lesser knights, the knights without a claim to any land will go first in all the events, Calvin will not compete until sometime after lunch.”

Grace nodded, “Calvin is competing in the sword fighting as well, but he is not to go until tomorrow. I would very much like to see how other knights compare to my cousin.”

Henry laughed and patted Grace’s shoulder, “Few women of the court take any interest in this. They care about the joust and who wins that. It is usually Benjamin of Salatia and then the young ladies lobby for his attention.” Henry sighed, “It was not always so. Knights from other countries used to come to compete, but most knights now are too young to remember such times.”

“What happened to the other countries?” Grace had limited knowledge of the countries around Cesarnan. Most were just names to her.

Henry looked around and lowered his voice. “You know how stubborn the men are about women who hold power and King Frederick is often times the worst. Years ago the kingdom of Otanna sent their knights, as did the Sun Kingdom and Archon. The knights from Otanna though, they were so well trained they put many of our men to shame. Unfortunately Otanna has always had border problems and a great war broke out. King Pedar and his two sons did not survive the fierce battles and so Pedar’s last remaining child took up the throne.

“Princess Peony of Otanna barely survived the war herself. She was a fine warrior, the captain of the rangers in Otanna. But when she took the throne she refused to marry and give up her power. It never sat right with King Frederick. The first tournament after Peony was crowned queen she came to Cesarnan with five of her finest knights. It was made clear she was disapproved of and her knights would not advance in the tournament no matter their skills. That was nigh on twenty years ago. After Otanna withdrew, the Sun Kingdom followed; they would not compete if their friends in Otanna did not. Archon stayed for a few more years, but found the competition lacking without the other two. It is a shame really; I would like to see those knights return to the tournament before I die.” The count fell silent and hung his head.

Grace had listened with wide eyes and was amazed at Henry’s tale. She knew Otanna had a queen, but no king, yet she never knew why. She found it hard to believe such a woman could exist in this world. Queen Peony openly defined generations of tradition by not marrying and not submitting to a husband’s rule. Grace felt small and useless thinking about it. She disguised herself as a man to play the role of the Death Dealer because she lacked the courage to openly ride as a female. Deep within her Grace wished she could sail for Otanna and meet the queen.

* * * *

Chapter Two (cont.)

Henry and Grace watched a few rounds of the jousting before heading to the sword fighting ring. A few lesser nobles were watching, but Henry and Grace were the only ones with high status that came to watch. The two watched as Sir Gerald and Sir Tomas squired off in the ring.

“I say Tomas wins,” Grace whispered to Henry as the two men began circling each other.

“Oh, everyone else thinks Gerald will win this round. He is the more seasoned knight. What makes you say Tomas?”

“It is in their stances. Gerald watches the hands to predict the next move. Tomas is watching the torso to see where the movements begin. And look how Tomas moves his feet, he has excellent balance, he stays on the balls of his feet and it seems to make him quicker. Besides Gerald thinks he has nothing to fear, he has won this tournament before and Tomas is too knew to have won much of anything. Arrogance against a smaller, less experiences opponent is often the downfall of the strongest. Just watch, Tomas will win.”

The crowds cheered as the two knights clashed swords. Henry watched their feet. Tomas stayed on the balls of his feet and seemed to dance around Gerald who stayed flat footed and used his upper body more. The two threw themselves at one another. Tomas caught Gerald under his sword arm and quickly disarmed him and put his own sword to Gerald’s throat. He had won.

Henry looked at Grace carefully. She was not looking at him; she had a smug smile on her face as Tomas was declared the victor. The count was amazed the young woman had successfully named the winner and had critiqued their fighting styles.

“Know much about swordplay?”

Grace blushed a little, “Arganis has been subjected to bandits in the past; my Uncle Leon wanted to make sure I was safe and so I learned a little bit of the sword while Calvin was training for his shield.”

Henry nodded to make Grace believe he was satisfied with her response, but she had displayed a little more than basic knowledge of the fighting. He hoped she never started such a conversation with anyone else in court.

* * * *

The Death Dealer hid in the shadows along the side of the road. Word had spread fast that the Death Dealer was in Ursana and so only a few bold criminals would come out. So far Grace had stopped two roadside robberies. She needed only to emerge from the shadows and the men had set off running.

Footfalls filled Grace’s ears. People were approaching.

“We’ll make them pay for what they did. No one throws candle oil on one of my men.” A gruff voice whispered in the dark. Grace squatted down and gripped her sword hilt.

“What about the Death Dealer? They say he’s in Ursana, he could be protecting Wilson and his family. There are plenty of families to steal from in other places. Let’s go.”

“No one bests me or my men, you coward.” Grace saw the larger man hit his companion across the back of the head. “I’m not scared of a little boy wearing a hood and playing with a sword. We’re going to do what we set out to do.”

Grace stepped into their path. Both men stopped. The smaller one, the one who was afraid of the Death Dealer looked at his boss and then took off running the way they had come.

“Damn coward. Well I guess it’s just you and me.” The man let out a primal yell and lunged at Grace.

Grace had never encountered someone who had jumped into a fight like this. She reached for her sword, but was too late. The larger man was on top of her and he gave her a few good punches in the gut and a few in her face. Grace squirmed underneath him and bit his knuckles as he tried to punch her face again.

“You whelp!” He screamed and put held Grace down. His hand reached down and produced a dagger, “Not so tough without your little sword are you?”

Grace took and deep breathes. With every bit of strength she had she flung her head forward and made contact with the man’s nose. There was a loud crack and he squeaked once and fell on top of her. Blood rushed from his nose unto Grace’s face as she struggled to get him off. Her Uncle Leon had once told her if she was unarmed and in grave danger the best thing to do was go for the nose.

Grace’s hit had forced the man’s nasal bones into his brain and he had died instantly. Now she had no idea what to do. She sat by the body shaking for what she had just done. There was a rush running through her body, it wasn’t fear, it was something else. She had no idea how long she sat there, but finally Grace dragged herself to her feet and set off running for the castle.

* * * *

(this is only the first half of chapter two, the rest will hopefully be up soon)

Wow. So Grace is the Death Dealer. I like your descriptions of the fights that she is put through, Nikkia. I can't wait for your second half.

Wow, didn't see that one coming. Good job, can't wait for the next half

Would i be right in guessing when Grace is forced to run off, she runs to that queen?
either way its coming along great. can't wait for more!

Chapter Two (cont.)

Cassandra entered Grace’s chambers early the next morning. She was still in bed, with the covers drawn over her face. “You complain about this heat and here you are, wrapped up in those blankets like it was about to start snowing. Now get up and let’s get you ready for the tournament, you do not want to miss Calvin in the sword fighting today.”

“I am not going,” Grace muttered from under the blankets, “Tell everyone I am ill.”

“Of course you are going. Now get up!” Cassandra pulled the covers clear off Grace. She yelped a little and quickly clapped a hand over her own mouth.
Grace’s face was covered in blood and the entire right side was one blue and purple bruise. Her right eye was swollen shut. Grace let out a pained whimper and lifted up her jerkin a bit. Her mid section was covered in the same kind of bruises.

“All the blood…” Cassandra could hardly find the words. Her voice became nothing more than a raspy whisper.

“It is not mine. The man, he pulled a knife, I had to kill him. He just bled all over me and stared at me with these unseeing eyes.”

Cassandra sat on the bed next to Grace and took her hand, “You, you killed him?”

Grace nodded, her servant looked aghast. How could she explain to her friend that there was barely any regret for killing a man who was going to harm an entire family? Cassandra would never understand.

“You cannot just stay in bed all day. Word will get out that the Death Dealer has killed and then you suddenly do not show up. No, you have to go out.”
Cassandra rooted through Grace’s things until she found her riding habit. She ripped bits and pieces off of it and wiped Grace’s face with the rest. “We will take you to the healer, say you were on a ride last night and you were thrown into a ditch.”

“What if the stable hands are questioned?”

“A few pieces of gold will get them to say anything you like. Hurry up and get dressed and then it is off to the healer with you.”

* * * *

Calvin’s squire and Grace’s friend, Donald, went to the stables to talk with the stable hands about Grace’s “fall”, while Cassandra took Grace to see the castle healer.

He was an old man, who looked as though he has lived through every king of Cesarnan. He grabbed Grace’s face with his icy hands and she was reminded of death. He moved her head this way and that, looking over her bruises carefully.

“You should have come to me last night when your horse threw you. I could have stopped the swelling on your eye.” He released her face and walked to a cabinet.

“I did not want to inconvenience you since all your candles had already been blown out. I had no idea I would wake up looking like this.”

The healer turned back to her, holding a small blue bottle. “Take this ointment, apply to your eye every few hours and by tomorrow the swelling should go down. There’s nothing I can do for those bruises, but in a few days they won’t be as bad.” He handed her the ointment.

“Thank you sir,” She curtsied and left his room.

Cassandra was waiting for her. “Well?”

“I do not see why I cannot stay in bed. No one will suspect a thing. You are being paranoid about this.”

“I refuse to take a risk,” Cassandra took Grace by the arm and started to lead down the hall, “I will do nothing that could possibly put you in the hangman’s sight. You will do as the healer said and you will go to the tournament today. I am going to see how Donald faired with the stable boys, you stay out of trouble.” Cassandra patted Grace’s shoulder and was gone.

Grace looked at the blue bottle and sighed. She should have stayed in Arganis.

“I for one would like to see how Benjamin fairs today against Calvin.” Grace heard voices down the hall. She looked around for a place to hide, but all the doors near her were closed and she didn’t want to discover what was behind them simply to escape conversation. Instead she walked for toward the voices.

To her surprise Prince Drake and Sir Tristan of Escion rounded the corner and the three came face to face.

“Good morning Countess Grace,” Drake said and bowed to her, “My dear what happened to your lovely face?”

“I was thrown from my horse last night. It is really not as bad as it looks.”

“Thrown from your horse?” Tristan said, “Then certainly the beast is not worthy to bear you. Escion is known for breeding the most noble of horses, if it pleases the lady, perhaps I could arrange for a nobler animal for you?”

Drake cut in, “Why go to Escion for a horse when the king’s horses are by far the greatest in the kingdom. We have plenty for you here in Ursana that my father will gladly give away as presents to one so fair.”

Grace saw exactly what the knights were doing. She found the spectacle rather amusing. The men in Arganis saw her as simply Grace, a pleasant girl who was their friend as well as the future countess. She was no prize for them. Watching Tristan and Drake vie for her attention and affection was something new for her, but she could not say it was completely unwanted.

Both were handsome and prize winning knights. Drake was lean and tall with black hair that hung into his brown eyes. He had a friendly face and she never saw him frown. Tristan was equally as lean, but a bit shorter. He let his brown hair grow out a bit longer and he had a healthy beard growing in. Yet he was not nearly as friendly looking as Drake, he had a serious air about him. Grace respected both men as fighters and wondered what they saw in her.

Grace fought back a bit of laughter and composed herself, “My poor horse was spooked and she is a noble animal, there is no need to replace her.”

“If the lady insists,” Drake said. “Let me escort you then to the jousting for the day. Your cousin is jousting in the first round against the ‘unbeatable’ Sir Benjamin of Salatia. I am sure you do not want to miss that.”

Tristan cleared his throat, “But Drake, you are expected for the first round in the archery tournament today. You mustn’t be late; I will escort the Lady Grace to the jousting.”

Grace saw Drake clench his hands, but the smile never left his face, “Right you are Tristan,” He bowed to Grace, “I shall see you later my lady.” He stalked away, clenching and unclenching his fists.

“Shall we?” Tristan held out his arm and Grace gratefully took it.

* * * *