He leaned back and wailed to the heavens, wondering why everything he had loved in this world had to be taken from him—and knowing that his life was about to be consumed, to be driven, by one thing and nothing else.

Vengeance.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Kyra stared back at the oaf confronting her, this foreigner with his low forehead, wide body and black eyes, smiling creepily at her, his sharpened teeth showing.

“You have no one to protect you,” he said to her. “Do not struggle: it will only make it worse for you.”

Kyra forced herself to breathe, to focus, drawing all the intensity she had when in battle. Inside, her heart was thumping, fire pumping in her veins, as she prepared herself for the confrontation of her life.

“If anyone needs protection,” Kyra replied boldly, “it is you. I shall give you one chance to step out of my way, before you learn what the people of Escalon are made of.”

The oaf stared back and blinked in shocked silence.

Then a moment later, he began laughing, a coarse, ugly sound, and all his men joined in.

“You are bold,” he said. “That is good. More fun to break. I might even take you as my personal slave. Yes, the men on my ship can use a good plaything. Our trips at sea can be so very long.”

Kyra felt a chill as he looked her up and down.

“Tell me something,” he said. “There are ten of us and two of you. What makes you think you can survive?”

An idea began to form in Kyra’s mind; it was risky, but she had no choice. She turned her back slowly on the man, determined to catch him off guard and to show him that she was unafraid.

Kyra, heart slamming, hoping he didn’t jump her from behind, turned to the barkeep, looked out at the sacks of feed laid out on the bar, and out of the corner of her eye gave Dierdre a knowing look as she slowly reached out and grabbed a sack.

“Are these ours?” she asked the barkeep, casually.

He nodded back, looking scared, sweating.

“Is my payment sufficient?” she asked.

He nodded again.

“Girl,” barked the foreigner behind her, annoyed, “you are about to be taken captive for life, and all you care about is your feed? Are you mad?”

Kyra felt a fire burning inside her, about to explode, but she forced herself to stay rooted in place, to wait until the moment was right. Her back to him, she addressed him:

“I am not a girl,” she replied. “But a woman. And those who assume they will win merely because they are male, because they are bigger, because they outnumber their victims, seem to forget the most important thing in battle.”

There came a long silence, until finally, he asked:

“And what is that?”

Kyra took a deep breath, steeling herself, knowing the moment of truth had come.