A coming-of-age standalone fantasy book about a young man who stumbles upon a group of mercenaries and changes his life forever.
Growing up in a quiet farm, young Luc didn’t dream of adventures until he fails the military entrance exam. Robbed of the chance to prove his worth to his adoptive family, he crosses paths with a group of vicious, bloodthirsty mercenaries out on a monster-hunting quest.
With only his quick wits and honesty to fall back on, Luc’s problems take a turn for the worst when he falls into a trap set by Roena Blackwood, the eldest of the local duke’s daughters. Dragged into a twisted plot concocted by a power-hungry merchant, Luc must find a way to save the lives of those around him–including the very mercenaries he was fated to kill.
From the author of the critically acclaimed THE WOLF OF OREN-YARO comes this standalone fantasy book that takes on the origin story of the Blackwood Marauders in the world of Agos-agan. BLACKWOOD MARAUDERS is a standalone and also chronologically the first book in the series of fantasy book action/sword and sorcery adventures. You can also start with Anira’s POV in DAUGHTER OF THE WOLVES, another standalone fantasy book–it chronologically happens after this novel without spoiling its events.
You don’t argue with a name like “Lucky” if you were lucky to be alive. Because all things considered, he shouldn’t have been when his father found him floating in that shipwreck, a tiny thing no older than a few days at most. Lucky to have survived the worst of the storm that tore the rest of his family into pieces, that a forlorn traveller seeking his fortune in Baidh had happened to look over the railing at the last moment to spot him. Lucky that after the others had turned away, a young man chose to jump into the sea, saved his life, and raised him as his own.
Fate could be kind like that, when others call it fickle. For every child lost to the warlords’ quarrels in Jin-Sayeng to the east or taken to serve the mages along the coasts of Dageis to the north, there are others found abed at home. Warm sheets, fire at the hearth, a father who never lifted a finger against him, who beat him with kindness and wise counsel instead of a cane. Luck.
But that was old news to Luc. Twenty years had come and gone. He was no longer a babe curled up on his father’s chest, listening to old lullabies of a land he had never seen. Nor was he the same child growing sick of hearing how blessed he was that a man who had nothing to gain would keep him. Tall, long-limbed, with wavy black hair he kept in a short crop, the only thing that marked him as a foundling these days was the brown skin of his Gorenten blood. He had learned to deflect the looks with a grin—a foolish sort, non-threatening. He had been told it wouldn’t be an issue in the bigger cities, but at least in the town of Crossfingers, he stood out like a sore thumb.
Luc recrossed his arms for what felt like the hundredth time that afternoon and finally caught sight of a figure hobbling down the street. Luc lifted his hand and whistled.
“Sorry I’m late,” Alun huffed, his normally pale face even paler now from the exertion. Sweat poured down his cheeks like rivers.
“Just stop for a moment,” Luc said, slapping Alun’s back. He had intended to make it a light tap, but Alun winced as his thin frame toppled forward. Luc gave a small smile. “You shouldn’t have been running, anyway. What would Da say? And Mother would kill me. I shouldn’t have gone ahead.”
Alun wheezed.
Luc sighed and waited until Alun caught his breath. A man leading two pigs to the market stared at them a little too long as he passed by—long enough that he nearly tripped over the rope in his hands. Luc was usedto the stares, but he still had to wonder at it. Although the only thing they shared was the black hair—their father traced his roots to Jin-Sayeng—he and his little brother were a common enough sight in town, familiar to many of the locals. Their grandmother told Luc not to worry about it, but he couldn’t help his own thoughts most of the time. He didn’t like the implications—that he didn’t care enough for his brother, for instance, his father’s trueborn son. Or that he brought shame to his father simply for existing.
Today, though…he wanted to make a difference today. Today, he told himself, I’ll be able to look him in the eye and tell him his sacrifices had paid off. The thought made him grin.
“All right,” Alun said, getting up. “I’m ready if you are.”
He smiled as they began the long walk down the street. The silhouette of the Skellcilan Academy, Crossfingers’ single shining beacon to fame, stood in the distance. Fear gripped Luc for the first time. It had been a week since the examinations. Initially, he had left the hall feeling smug over his chances at passing the prerequisites for military training in the Hafed capital of Tilarthan—he’d even bragged to their grandmother about how he had been expecting harder questions. The sums were laughable. He didn’t have a merchant’s upbringing, but the priest had done well enough by them, and Luc had always been the brightest among the children, at least second only to Alun. Now…
Now, he wasn’t so sure. Panic and doubt crawled over his heart like his grandmother’s needles prickling his fingers whenever he tried to stitch patches on his trousers. Out of nowhere, he laughed.
“You’re nervous,” Alun said.
“I’m not,” Luc replied.
“You are,” Alun persisted, grabbing his wrist to look him in the eye. His younger brother’s face broke into a grin. “Who would’ve thought! Me with the clubfoot, and you, big, strapping Lucky, scared enough to wet your trousers. Wait till Ceri hears about this. She’ll laugh herself silly.”
“There’s been a lot of bed-wetting over these years, Alun. They’ve never been on my side.”
“Remember when you’d tell me there were no monsters hiding under it?”
“There weren’t,” Luc huffed. “You cried yourself to sleep, anyway. You and your damned imagination.”
Alun laughed. “And you’d hug me and tell me it’ll be all right. Hey, Luc,” he said, his face growing sombre for a moment. “It’ll be all right. You’ve got this.”
“Thanks,” Luc grumbled.
“I mean it. You’re smart. Even if Loma sometimes insists you were the dumbest kid she’s ever seen in her life.”
“And now you’re pushing it again.”
“We’ll pass. You’ll get to Tilarthan and be a general in the army in no time.”
