Where were her Brother Adrian and her fiancé Cedric? Had they been killed too or did they somehow get away and escape into the forest that bordered her small, now smoldering, village? Zandra didn’t know but she hoped with all her heart that they had gotten away then they could come and rescue her.

She looked out across the field that she and her captors were riding through. It was beautiful. The golden wheat swayed in the gentle breeze and she could see the larks and quail ahead of the party flutter and flap desperately out of the path of the horses’ sharp hooves.

The large warrior party with their few captives including Zandra traveled half a day quickly leaving the village and fields behind to ride across the soft rolling moors. The long tall grasses swayed as the riders moved through them, rustling gently as they brushed together. The day turned gradually darker as they neared Therius’s village and fortress.

Zandra’s heart cried out desperately as they traveled through a small forest marking the ending of her father’s lands and entering her enemies. She turned in her saddle to look behind her at the setting sun, the last sunset of her freedom.