Page 3 of The Barbarian King's Assassin (Magic and Kings 1)

By the time I’d stopped, he lay across the ruined threshold of the door, bloody, his eyes unseeing.

Dead, just like my mother.

I crawled to her and cradled her head in my lap, sobbing. I was still sobbing when too many soldiers to count filled the room and took in the carnage.

I was arrested. A mere child of nine. And I couldn’t even deny the crime, not with the blood on my hands and spattered on my face.

They threw me into the dungeon along with the other criminals, hardened men and women who eyed me with curiosity. With an intensity that made my skin crawl and my gorge rise, one whispered, “Ain’t you a pretty thing. I think I shall play with you.”

I didn’t think I’d enjoy his idea of fun. Perhaps I should tell him what happened to the soldier that just tried to force me. It proved to be unnecessary. For all his subtle threats, he remained far from me, most likely because one of the women—older than the rest and missing most of her teeth—murmured something to him.

The bells outside tolled the late hour, and one by one, the prisoners slept. All but me. I sat huddled, my arms around my bent legs. Shivering. Not so much in cold but misery.

Mother was gone. Killed before my very eyes. It would forever haunt me. I’d loved her, unlike my aloof father who’d rarely had a kind word for me. She was my everything, and without her, I had no one. Not that it would matter. I’d probably hang for killing the emperor’s men.

No one around me stirred when the soft scuff alerted me of someone’s approach. A single torch remained burning, only barely enough light to make out the person that arrived swathed head to toe in a voluminous cloak. They stopped in front of the bars and said nothing, but I could feel the stare despite the deep cowl.

The voice emerged distinctly male and smooth. “You are the Jaamanian girl who killed two soldiers.”

Should I deny it? Not much point since I was the only young child in the place.

I nodded.

“How?”

“I stabbed them.”

“Two grown men?” he questioned.

I shrugged. “They killed my mother.”

“What did she do?”

As if she’d have broken any laws. She’d always been strict on obedience. “Nothing. They wanted me.” Or so it seemed even as it made no sense.

“And yet you foiled their kidnapping.”

“And rape,” I interrupted softly. I’d not forgotten that terrifying moment.

“You pose an interesting dilemma. Do you want to live, child?”

Stupid question. “Of course, I do.”

“What if you had to leave this place, this country, and never return?”

“I have nothing here.”

“Are you willing to work hard?”

A burning curiosity filled me. Better than the apathy I’d been sinking into. I stood and approached the bars. “Who are you?”

“A man in need of an apprentice.”

I stared upward and shivered. Not in fear but sudden anticipatory hope. “What’s your trade?”

“Death.”

Receive death or deal in it. Those were my choices.