Eris Malarin is not a criminal. Sure, she's had to do a few things now and again that were a bit shady--had to knock a few heads, too, which is easy enough when you're as big as Eris--but she's never killed anybody.
Never really tried to steal anything valuable. She's certainly never planned to break into the oldest armory in the kingdom and pillage its dungeon. Eris is a minstrel, a storyteller--she's a people person. She can get along with anyone!
Except, maybe--these two. Possibly the only two people in Frydain she is struggling to see eye to eye with--and the exact two she has to travel with for the next week or more.
One is Aidan Valraven, a knight of the Church, who claims to be helping her for selfless reasons, even while he treats her as another sinful victim to be smited. Smote?
The other, a dour man named Dermot Slate--well, he's either mad or haunted, or both, and he's certainly not doing this from the kindness of his heart, not after the hefty sum Aidan paid him.
Still, Eris needs them both--the knight and the sellsword. The wagon they're chasing up the road is bearing precious cargo--a nun from the Abbey of Dawnfire, the love of her life, Mariead. It's of Mariead that Eris thinks when she wakes, and when she lies down to sleep. It's thoughts of Mariead that keep her focused when Aidan and Dermot are sniping at each other behind her back.
A daring rescue. A lady fair. Just like one of the stories Eris loves to tell. If she can just keep these two thickheaded killers from strangling each other, she might just pull off the rescue of the century.
She hasn't really thought about what comes after that.
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