A week had passed since Beth left her home town in the Dominion, on her way to Andor's capital. She rode in the same wagon as her father, who was a merchant leading a trade caravan. He had hired more guards than usual to protect the wagons, because travelling within the Dominion had become more dangerous. Not only did they need to be wary of bandits, but they also had to watch out for werewolves as well. Several of the frontier villages had already been attacked by werewolves.

Her father chatted with the coachman for a while, before returning his seat. "We'll cross the border soon. Once we're in Andor, we'll stop to rest."

“Sounds good.” She felt sadness in heart every time she left the home she grew up in.

She had fond memories of it - memories of the blessed days she’d spent with her late mother. Her mother had passed away years ago from sickness, but her gentle voice and smile lived on in Beth’s memories. As Beth reminisced about the past, she nodded off to sleep. She was awoken by shouts from outside.

"We're under attack!"

"Protect the wagons!"

Her father grabbed his sword. "Beth, stay here until I return."

He had trained in the art of swordsmanship in his youth. Although his body was not what it used to be, he still retained his most of his skills with consistent practice. Still, she worried about his safety.

"Be careful, Father."

With a nod, he opened the flap of the wagon and left.

The two guards sitting across from her followed.

Beth could hear the sound of a vicious battle outside. In every direction, she heard screaming, horse hooves stomping the ground, and metal clanging against metal. Eventually, after what seemed like a long while, the sounds stopped.

A voice, that she had never heard before, was shouting outside. "Check the wagons for any stragglers! Keep your guard up!"

Beads of sweat flowed down her forehead. She reached for a pot inside the wagon and firmly grasped it's handle with her shaky and clammy hands. She heard footsteps outside. As the sound of the footsteps grew louder, her heart began hammering in her chest. She could hear each of her quick and shallow breaths. Her knuckles blanched as she tightened her grip around the pot’s handle.

The flap of the wagon opened and a rugged man, who she’d never seen before, peered inside. When he saw her, his face twisted into a perverted expression.

He licked his lips. "My, my, today must be my lucky da-"

She slammed the side of the man's face with the bottom of the pot, knocking him backwards. She hopped out of the wagon and ran as fast as she could. There were many bloodied bodies strewn all over the ground, so she had to watch her footing while running. She didn’t want to think about whose body she was stepping over.

She heard a voice behind her.

"You bitch! That hurt like hell!"

Two bandits stepped in front of her, blocking her path.

She turned and continued running.

One of the bandits chased her down and grabbed her arm.

Twisting around, she swung the pot at him.

He grabbed it and threw it aside. "We got a feisty one! Hahaha!"

"Let me go!" She screamed and tried to pull away from the bandit’s vice-like grip.

He dragged her by the arm and threw her into a group of people sitting on the ground.

She pushed herself up and wiped dirt away from her face. Glancing around, she saw that the group in front of her consisted of only women and children from the caravan. They were trembling and embracing one another. A woman soothed her bawling child, rocking back and forth as she held him close to her chest. Another woman covered her face with her hands, weeping and shaking her head.

Beth’s father was not among them. Tears welled up in Beth’s eyes when she realized that he and the other men of the caravan were most likely dead. Both her parents were now gone forever. She felt so alone, so vulnerable. The tears wouldn’t stop flowing.

Two dozen bandits surrounded her and the group of survivors. One, in particular, stood out from all the rest. His whole face was wrapped in bandages, except for his eyes and mouth.

She overheard him talking to a much larger, bearded bandit.

"What do you plan to do with the women and children, Dreyfus?"

"It's Chief Dreyfus.” The bearded bandit furrowed his brows. “First, you just stand on the sidelines for the whole battle. Then, you don’t even address me properly. You’re lucky that I’m in a good mood, or you’d be dead by now.”

The bandaged man lowered his head. "Please forgive me for my rudeness, Chief Dreyfus. I meant no disrespect."

The corners of the bearded man’s mouth curved upwards. "That's more like it. I'm letting you off the hook this time because you're a new recruit. We'll sell the children to slave traders. As for the women, I'll let the men have fun with them, before auctioning them off to brothels.”

Beth lowered her face into her hands and sobbed.

How can it end like this?

Many other women around her were also crying in despair. They too must have realized that only a life of horror awaited them and their children.

The bandaged man shook his head. "This is not what I signed up for."

"I don't care what you signed up for. Just do as you're told, or I'll gut you like a fish."

The bandaged man jabbed his spear into the bearded bandit’s chest. “Like this?”

“Ugh… you ungrateful… brat…” Groaning and coughing out blood, the bearded bandit fell backwards.

"I hate men like you the most." The bandaged man pulled out his spear and flicked away blood from its pointed tip.

The scene caused an uproar among the bandits.

"The new recruit just killed the chief!"

"I'll slice your throat!"

"You traitor!"

The sound of rattling chains and metal scraping against metal could be heard as they drew their weapons.

The bandaged man pointed his spear at the other bandits. "You’re the ones who have failed me. I joined you guys to earn a living and to improve my skills by killing men, but you're all nothing but a bunch of murderers and rapists."

Breaking out in battle cries, the bandits closed in on the bandaged man.

Beth saw an opportunity to escape. Standing up, she turned to face the surviving members of the caravan, who remained seated. They were transfixed by the battle taking place behind her.

“What are you all doing? We can escape while they’re distracted. Let’s get moving!” Beth motioned for them to follow her.

They didn’t move.

A boy in the group pointed at a spot behind her. “But he’s winning.”

What’s he talking about? There’s no way one man can stand up against a dozen.

Turning around, she saw an unexpected sight.

The bandaged man was still fighting. He was agile like an acrobat, dodging attacks from all directions. His spear thrusts were so quick that they looked like flashes of silver. One after another, the bandits fell. Their bodies began piling up around him. In mere minutes, he took down almost all of them. The few remaining bandits dropped their weapons and fled.

Once they were gone, he supported himself on his spear, gasping for air.

“I can’t believe those thugs gave me so much trouble.” He shook his head. “I’m still not strong enough.”

Beth walked towards him. “Thank you for saving us. We owe you our lives.”

“There was a time when I was the one being saved. I’m just glad that I was able to do something good with this life of mine. I’m sorry I didn’t stop them sooner. I would have done so if I’d known what they were really like.”

“It’s not your fault. You didn’t do this to us.” Beth’s lips trembled.

She lowered her chin and put her hand on forehead.

Tears dripped down her face as she thought about what she and the other survivors had lost. “Everyone here has lost someone precious to them. I’m not sure if we can even finish the journey without any guards to protect us. What will we do if we get attacked again?”

“I have a proposal for you. As you can see, I had a fall out with my former employer." He pointed his thumb at the pile of corpses behind him. "If you pay me what you were going to pay your deceased guards, I’ll ensure the safety of your caravan for the remainder of your journey.”

The bandaged man had single handedly defeated the bandits, something that not even the caravan’s guards could do. If the caravan had him to protect it, then there was a good chance that they could make it to their destination. But would the other survivors approve? Up until a moment ago, he had been one of the bandits.

She turned around and saw them walking toward her.

A woman in the group said, “We want you lead us, since you’re the daughter of our former leader.”

Beth felt a weight at the back of her throat. Leading a caravan was a lot of responsibility.

The burden seemed too heavy and too soon. “I don’t know if I’m fit to lead you.”

“When we had lost all hope, you were the only one here who had the courage to stand up. If you’re not qualified, then who among us is?”

The other survivors nodded and voiced their support.

She recalled how hard her father had worked to build up the caravan. In the early years of his business, he had been away from home for months at a time, to earn enough money to support his family. She didn’t want his decades of hard work to go to waste.

“If you’re willing to have me as your leader, then I’ll do my best to live up to your expectations.” Beth gestured toward the bandaged man. “This man has offered to protect us for the remainder of our journey, in exchange for the wages of our deceased guards. I understand that some you may be wary of him because he was once part of the group that attacked us. But I implore you to think practically. Without his protection, we cannot continue our journey and our sacrifices thus far would be for nothing.”

The women muttered amongst themselves, before giving their answer.

“He just stood by the sidelines during the attack, so he didn’t hurt any of us.”

"Thank you for offering to protect us.”

“We accept your offer.”

“Please protect us."

The bandaged man bowed his head. "I’m now at your service."

Beth turned toward him. “I’m Beth. How should I address you?”

“Hold on a second.” He began unwrapping the bandages. “I don’t need to conceal my face anymore.”

Behind the bandages was the face of a beautiful woman. Her long, flowing amber hair shone under the bright sunlight. “You can call me Claire.”