The Lady of Evelyn Manor

Revenge Carved into Flesh and Blood

Chapter 1

_Trevor's Perspective_

Suddenly the air was pierced by a heart stopping scream. The knight looked around at his fellows in shock and but a moment later the air shattered again by the pained scream. They all mounted immediately and bound in the direction of the cry. Not but a mile from where they had camped they came across a woman lying in the street. The woman looked no older than twenty three and she was gorgeous. The knight dismounted and knelt at the young lady’s side. She is truly a goddess of beauty. One of my men would have easily taken her and welcomed her as a wife.  Such a waste of young beautiful life.  He thought. The woman was panting and had her right hand clutching her left forearm. Her eyes were closed and yet not one tear shed. Another knight approached and gently placed his hands on the woman’s own and whispered too her to take calming breaths. The knight watched as his fellow stroked his hand through her hair and continued to whisper consoling words. Yes, Patrick would be perfect for her he is young and the kindest hearted man I have ever met.  The woman had finally calmed down and he took this moment to talk to her, as he was confused to her reactions seeing as she was unharmed. “Madame, would you please kindly remove your right hand from your left arm.”

_Patrick's perspective_

Trevor hadn’t even finished his request when the woman lying before us shot her eyes wide open. Her eyes were magnificent they were crystal blue and he could envision him swimming in them. He was completely astounded by her beauty. She had hair that had every shade of brown in it followed by hints of gold and red. She had slightly tan skin which proved she was outdoors frequently. Her lips looked so soft and rosy red followed by white teeth, a perfect nose, and the high cheekbones along with a slender face that every woman craved. The woman slowly removed her hand from her arm.

As if we were all hit by lightning we all jumped to our feet. Many gasped, some of the other men had cursed, and others had placed a hand on their weapons. On her left arm was the source of her pain and the source of our problems. Sliced into her skin was the word of death, the word that meant hell for all who were near, the word that meant that the people who had caused her the immense pain of carving there motto into her arm with a poisoned blade, the people they were after were near. It was one simple word but yet it had caused immense damage to all. The king’s country had been tormented by these men for too long. Every where they went they took until their hearts were content, raped, murdered, wounded, burned homes, and fought. They were the reason why the once glorious country of Iris was now known as the country of death, why the country’s most common bird was no longer a dove but crows and vultures picking till they couldn’t anymore on the dead bodies scattered everywhere. They were who the knights were searching for. This woman had their mark on her arm. The woman wouldn’t survive. This is what they did they chose the first they came by every few days or so and killed them and emblazoned them with their mark. If they came upon a village first they would terrorize it and leave their mark there rather. They didn’t harm all the villages however. They chose the ones that would harm the king most and they were beyond wise in their tactics. They didn’t frequently raid villages as it would be too easy to track them that way. They went in confusing paths that had no pattern and the path they took was full of mystery which caused most of the fear in the country.  One never knew who, or where, was next.

The word on her arm, Revenge.