Three Dog Knight (Midnight Empire: The Tower, #2)
Annabel Chase
Prologue
Henry stretched his arms over his head. His back was already sore and it wasn’t even midday. His wife wanted him to take care, but what choice did he have? The work was hard and the house was enormous, but that meant it took time and during that time Henry could feed his family. He was no stranger to hard work.
“Another delivery’s coming from the quarry today,” Geoffrey said.
“Good because we’re almost through the last batch of stones.”
Geoffrey seemed to know everything even though he was only a laborer like Henry. There was something different about Geoffrey. His hazel eyes shone a touch too bright and solid muscles bulged beneath his clothes. He’d once rolled up his sleeves on an unseasonably warm day and Henry had marveled at the excessive hair on his arms. Henry had heard tales of people with their bodies covered in a layer of dark fuzz, but they came from the Mediterranean and Geoffrey had been born in Britain, same as Henry. Geoffrey’s parents were called Mary and George, hardly names he associated with foreigners.
“Not good,” Anthony complained. “I was hoping for a break. Now we’ve no excuse but to keep working.”
Henry lifted a stone and wedged it into place. This would be a fine wall once it was finished. He was proud of the fruits of his labor, however hard on his back and shoulders. Even his knees seemed to groan from the constant strain of lifting and turning.
“If you get to keep working, you get to keep eating,” Henry reminded them.
“Speaking of eating,” Geoffrey said, grinning.
Henry and Anthony laughed. Geoffrey ate more than any man Henry had ever met. That likely accounted for the muscles. Henry wasn’t sure how his friend managed to acquire so much food. It probably helped that Geoffrey had no wife or kids to feed. More for him.
Henry and Anthony continued to work while Geoffrey disappeared into the nearby woods. Hopefully no one would see him disappear and make a fuss. He seemed to be very good at moving unnoticed. Not Henry. Henry’s pale skin flashed like a beacon wherever he went.
“This will make a very fine house once it’s finished,” Anthony remarked. He took a step back to admire the foundation and the start of the fourth and final wall. “What do you suppose it’d be like to live in a house like this?”
“Drafty,” Henry replied and they both laughed.
The sound of wheels grinding against gravel drew their attention to the arrival of more supplies.
Henry winced at the wagon teeming with rocks. “I know we need more, but my arms ache just looking at them.” More than once his fatigue had caused him to fall asleep before supper. His wife had been less than impressed by his stamina.
Anthony reached for a stone at the top of the pile. “I wish all of them were this size.”
The chosen stone was the size of Henry’s foot. He shook his head. “Not me. It would only take longer. Bigger stones take up more space.”
As Henry turned his attention to the mortar mix, Anthony secured the stone in place.
“This one’s marked up,” Henry said, noticing deep grooves in the small stone. “Do you think anyone will see?”
Anthony shrugged. “Too small. I’d chance it.”
Henry cast a wary glance at the stone. “What if it’s not as hard as the others and that’s why it’s all marked up? Might be too weak to be part of the wall.”
Anthony contemplated the stone. “Too late now.” His mouth split. “Maybe if our work was shoddier, it would be worth removing.”
No chance of that. Henry took too much pride in his work. They all did, except maybe Kenneth who seemed to prefer napping to working.
“Geoffrey’s headed back. Just in time too.” Anthony glanced over his shoulder as another man crossed the grounds toward them. The master builder.
Henry signaled to Geoffrey to hurry. The burly man was a hard worker and Henry didn’t want to lose him. He also told good stories which Henry appreciated—stories about fairies and elves and times long past. If nothing else, he made the work go faster.
As Geoffrey neared the site, his body began to twitch and he nearly toppled over. Henry frowned. He’d never seen anyone have a fit before, although his wife had made sympathetic noises about a neighbor with such an affliction.
Geoffrey’s body went rigid and Henry worried he’d fall flat on his face. What happened next, however, was much worse.
A monster erupted from Geoffrey’s bright-eyed and bulky body. Coarse hair coated taut muscles from head to toe. With pointed ears and an elongated snout, the head resembled that of a wolf, except this creature was standing on its hind legs and was much more than a wolf.
All the air escaped Henry’s lungs.
Anthony hugged a stone to his chest, his jaw slack. Nobody moved.
The monster looked at its paws as though perplexed by its own appearance.
Henry wasn’t sure who cast the first stone. He assumed it was Anthony, who stood closest to the pile of rocks. A sizable chunk of earth whizzed through the air and pelted the monster in the gut. The creature roared and the sound deafened Henry’s ears. He’d never heard a noise like that in his life and hoped never to hear it again.
Stones rained down on the creature as the men came to their senses and used the only weapon within their grasp that allowed them to keep their distance. Henry couldn’t bring himself to throw a stone. He stood against the half-built wall, terror winding its way through his body. It started in his lungs and spread to his heart before inching through the rest of his organs and extremities like a worm through an apple. He opened his mouth to shout, to beg the monster for mercy, but no sound came out.
The creature tore through the men like they were weeds from the garden. Henry ducked as a body flew over his head and slammed into the stone wall behind him and he was pleased to see the wall held. Henry was awestruck by the sheer strength of the beast. No wonder Geoffrey had always seemed fresh and rested at the end of a long day. The monster within must have given him unimaginable power.
Henry remained rooted in place, unable to move his legs in order to flee. A blessing in disguise, he thought. He knew what happened to animals that ran—they became prey and Henry didn’t want to be any creature’s prey.
The monster ripped an arm from its socket, flung it over his shoulder like a discarded apple core, and came to an abrupt halt. His head jerked to the side as though wrenched by an invisible hand. The fur on its face receded and then returned.