Mardi's Revenge

Prologue

In a world where secrets whispered among the shadows could mean the difference between life and death, our story unfolds. It begins in a land divided, where power is seized through cunning and cruelty. Here, amidst the rugged terrain and dense forests, a tale of resilience and revenge is born.

In a remote enclave, hidden from the world's prying eyes, a young girl named Mardi recovers from a brutal attack, helped by a recluse who lives in solitude and secrecy, a man who harbours his own secrets. She's known as the ghost by those who fear her elusive presence. With hair as dark as the night and eyes that seem to hold the secrets of the universe, Mardi possesses a remarkable gift — the art of vanishing into the ether.

For months, she's eluded capture by the nefarious Victor, a ruthless warlord who rules through fear and force. Victor's power knows no bounds, and his thirst for control drives him relentlessly forward. But there's something he desires more than anything else – to unmask the elusive ghost, and bring her under his dominion.

As Mardi's life of isolation and evasion continues, another soul, Hutch, finds himself drawn into her enigmatic world. A man of quiet strength and unwavering determination, Hutch, blackmailed into compliance by Victor, embarks on a quest to find this mysterious ghost, who has captivated his thoughts. Little does he know that this journey will lead him to confront not only Victor's tyranny but also the depths of his own courage.

As the story unfolds, secrets long buried will surface, destinies will collide, and the scale of power will hang in the balance. In a world where shadows conceal both danger and salvation, who will emerge victorious? And can love and hope thrive in the darkest of times?

Join us on a journey through a land of mystery and intrigue, where the ghost becomes the beacon of hope, and the fate of all rests in the hands of the most unlikely heroes. As the threads of fate weave together, the story of Mardi will take you on an unforgettable adventure, where decisions cost lives, fear turns to resolve, filled with twists, turns, and revelations that will leave you breathless.

In this world of secrets and shadows, the answers lie just beyond the next page. The adventure awaits.

Chapter One.

The Ghost.

In the stillness of a post-apocalyptic world that had finally found its balance, the remnants of old societies had begun to knit themselves into something resembling stability. Towns and villages, once razed grounds of despair and lawlessness, now hummed with the promise of a new era. It was in this renewed world that the aging grandson of a girl known only as the Ghost, wandered the land in the footsteps of his great grandparents and his grandmother. With each step, he carried with him the legacy of his grandmother, a legend woven into the very fabric of the recovery.

The Ghost, as she was called, had become a symbol of resilience and vengeance. Her tale was a dramatic saga of loss and reclamation, starting when a ruthless warlord, who had once terrorised their lands, murdered her father and brother and enslaved her mother. In the wake of devastation, she rose from the shadows of her former life, a fierce wraith driven by the fires of retribution and justice. Her grandson, now an old man with silver hair and a voice like gravel, made it his life's mission to recount her story, ensuring that her deeds would never fade into the fog of forgotten history.

As a travelling storyteller, he moved from one town or village to another, each place a patch in the quilt of a recovering civilization. His presence was heralded by the anticipation of stories from the old world and the new, tales of horrors faced and overcome, of humanity's enduring spirit. Tonight, as the orange hues of sunset bled into the horizon, he stood at the front of a bustling village hall, his audience a spectre of eager faces bathed in the warm glow of lantern light. The room settled into a reverent silence; the kind reserved for the beginning of something significant.

Tobias cleared his throat, the sound resonating softly through the hushed hall. His eyes, gleaming with the intense glow of memory and emotion, swept across the faces of the assembled crowd. With a gentle authority, he began,

Please, everyone, settle down. It's with a deep sense of honour that I introduce my daughter Mardi, named after her great grandmother. Today, she will share with you a story of extraordinary courage and resilience.

He paused, allowing the weight of his words to sink in. This tale is about a young girl known to many of you as 'the ghost.' Despite her tender age, her petite frame, and facing a path fraught with unknowns, she surmounted odds that many would deem insurmountable. And I am filled with immense pride today as I stand before you all, to reveal that this remarkable girl, that turned a tide in our land, was my grandmother.

His voice softened, imbued with reverence. Before we begin, let me share something special. After today's reading, you will have the rare opportunity to take a piece of this history home. This book, a tangible connection to our past, is one of the few that has been printed in over two centuries. It represents a luxury, a beacon of knowledge, that we have lived without for far too long.

He stepped back slightly, making room for his daughter. Now, with no further delay, I will let Mardi's voice carry the legacy of her great-grandmother—a girl whose bravery not only challenged the darkest powers of her time, but also ignited a flame of liberty that burns in our hearts to this day.

Mardi stepped up, her voice trembling with emotion as she looked out over the crowd, their faces painted with anticipation and quiet respect.

Thank you for gathering here today. The story I am about to share transcends a mere recounting of events—it is a vibrant saga of defiance against tyranny, of a young girl’s unwavering resolve to rectify the injustices that shattered her family. She stood alone, a solitary figure against a towering adversary, proving that the strength of one’s spirit can indeed bend the arc of history towards justice. Her triumph was not hers alone; it was a victory for her children, her grandchildren, for all her descendants, me included, and yes, for each of you gathered here today.

She ignited a spark, kindling a fire of fervour within the people, compelling them to rise up, to no longer accept the oppressive yoke they had borne. She awakened a dormant will—a will for freedom that had been suppressed but never extinguished. Her courage ensured that future generations would grow up in a land where they could all breathe the sweet air of freedom.

Let her indomitable spirit envelop you as we turn back the pages of time to unveil her remarkable journey. Now, let us begin. I will read you her story, immortalised in print, ensuring her resolve is never forgotten.

The room fell silent, every listener hanging on her words, ready to be swept away by the stirring tale of a girl whose spirit was unbreakable, whose legacy was their freedom.

Mardi, a slender girl with long, flowing raven black hair, navigated the challenges of a post-apocalyptic world. She found herself alone at a table in the dimly lit ale and food hall of a rundown boarding house, nervously waiting for her parents, my great grandparents, to return, a routine that had become all too familiar. Her father, a news teller and storyteller, led their nomadic family from one hamlet to the next, never settling in one place for long. They sustained themselves by sharing stories and news from their travels, receiving handouts, exchanging trinkets, and providing valuable information to the curious locals who gathered in rented halls or churches to listen for a few hours.

Restlessly, Mardi twirled a knife in her pocket, one of her few possessions. Her gaze swept across the unremarkable individuals at nearby tables, casting a pall of decay over the place. An elderly man idly picked at scabs on his face, a woman struggled to hush her crying baby, and the rowdy drunks vied for attention, creating a scene that repulsed her. At least this time, her mother had taken her little brother, Brody, along with them. He was only six, half her age, but she invariably ended up caring for him. She couldn't help but question why she, as a girl, was entrusted with this responsibility.

Recalling her own childhood when, at six, she had to wait alone regardless of their location, enduring uncomfortable encounters with older men making inappropriate remarks, clumsiness resulting in spilled drinks, and some patrons even bringing their animals inside. Meanwhile, Brody, being a boy, received preferential care, though he was fragile. Mardi couldn't understand why the duty always fell on her.

She yearned for the day when she could break free and strike out on her own, rather than facing the prospect of her father marrying her off to an undesirable suitor. She had witnessed such arrangements before; Sylvia, an acquaintance of hers, had been wed to an elderly butcher old enough to be her grandfather. They called it a dowry, but Mardi dismissed it as nonsense. Her own parents were even poorer than Sylvia’s father, with three other children and another on the way. Sylvia, barely fourteen, had been sacrificed to secure her family's future. Mardi was determined that the same fate would never befall her; she would escape before her father could arrange such a marriage.

The deafening clamour surrounding her made Mardi yearn for her father's return; he could secure a room for the night, away from this relentless racket. Just as her anxiety peaked, two men unexpectedly occupied her table. She instinctively tightened her grip on the knife, prepared for action. But to her relief, their conversation centred on a topic that didn't involve her directly: Victor Anhalt.

However, discussing Victor Anhalt was far from a good idea. Simply coming into contact with him or his henchmen could significantly shorten your life expectancy. While this region wasn't exactly his stronghold, with Victor being over fifty miles to the south, he was infamous as a slave trader, murderer, and drug dealer—dealing in anything he could trade. He held villages in terror, demanding tribute, or else he'd abduct people to use as slaves. Those who dared to cross him would mysteriously vanish. This was the first time Mardi had heard anyone speak of Victor other than her father.

She recollected her father's stories, which included the unsettling titbit that Victor might be related to the infamous Russ, who had instigated the catastrophic events known as the black days over a century and a half ago. Mardi had always prided herself on her fearlessness, but some of the chilling tales her father had shared about Victor sent shivers down her spine.

She absentmindedly pushed a piece of bread around her dish, sopping up the remnants of the soup. Despite being filling, the soup had a taste akin to musty wood. Her disinterest in the meal allowed her to eavesdrop with full attention as the two dishevelled men conversed in hushed tones. It became apparent that Victor had intentions of expanding northward.

These grimy, bedraggled individuals, dressed in tattered clothes, were fervently plotting their escape, and they aimed to do it soon, before Victor's impending arrival in the region. The tone of their conversation conveyed a deep fear of Victor, and although Mardi couldn't catch every word, she did overhear that Victor's henchmen had been conducting raids in villages just fifteen miles away. These ruthless incursions resulted in the slaughter of all adult men, while women and children were taken captive to be sold in the slave markets under Victor's control.

Mardi knew her mother and father would return shortly, but she preferred the idea of sleeping in the woods, a place she felt safe. Her trusty companions, her knife, slingshot, and bow, gave her a sense of security. Whether they would find lodgings for the night or opt for one of the shared rooms depended on their earnings at the door that night and whether her mother had managed to sell any of the jewellery she crafted.

If they made enough, her father would rent a room, but if not, they might end up in one of those cramped shared spaces, where sleep was an elusive luxury. Ten people squeezed into one room meant enduring the cacophony of loud snores, men relieving themselves against walls, and the unfortunate souls who couldn't hold their liquor. While the outside was frigid, with snow on the ground, it still seemed more inviting than those crowded shared rooms.

Mardi was abruptly pulled back to the present as the door swung open, ushering in a blast of icy air that sent shivers through her body. Five burly men clad in heavy, fur-collared leather coats, sturdy boots, and fur hats entered, each carrying swords or long knives at their belts, along with longbows or crossbows in hand. The room fell into an immediate hush as the newcomers made their way to the bar. It was evident that these men were Victor's henchmen, as the two individuals seated across from Mardi swiftly and discreetly departed, as did many others who seemed eager to vacate the premises.

The area around the bar cleared as they approached, and few wanted to remain in their vicinity. Mardi couldn't help but watch them, even though they instilled a sense of unease. Then, she overheard them asking about her father, and the barman pointed in her direction. Fear gripped her, and it took her precious seconds to realise that she needed to flee, and fast.

Snatching her coat, gloves, and hat, she dashed for the door. Thud, a long imposing knife, appeared like magic in the door, but it didn't deter her as she tumbled into the snow. Her immediate concern was to warn her parents, especially at the church—she hadn't paid much attention to its location before, as all these places tended to look alike. She scanned the snow-covered surroundings for a spire or crucifix on a tall building, but the falling snow obscured her view. Then she noticed that they hadn't pursued her.

Stumbling through the snowy streets, heading up the main road, she finally spotted it—the church.

Battling through the relentless blizzard, Mardi finally reached the grandiose doors of the wooden church. She pushed them open with great effort and stumbled into the small interior.

Mardi, what's wrong? her mother inquired with a hesitant tone.

Victor's men, Mardi gasped, breathless and terrified. They're at the boarding house asking about Father. They look dangerous. One of them even threw a knife at me when I left. We need to leave, right now.

Her father, a stout man in his mid-thirties with a pacifist disposition, had little chance of fighting his way out of this situation, much to the relief of his family. Her mother, a tall and slender woman in her late twenties, appeared to be the better candidate for a fight, but taking on Victor's men, let alone five of them, was out of the question. Their only hope lay in escape.

Mardi's younger brother remained blissfully unaware, fast asleep under the table. It had been a dismal night; they had encountered only two people, and no one had shown up for the news reading.

They wasted no time packing, and her father returned in a frantic rush.

Mardi, grab your brother, get on the cart. We need to go, he urged urgently.

The aging shire horse dutifully hauled the four-wheeled canvas-topped cart that Mardi's father had lovingly crafted many years ago, inspired by a picture in a magazine depicting a place called The Wild West. He had constructed the entire cart himself, save for the wheels and axles, which he had bartered from a local farmer. These essential components had originally belonged to a decaying wooden flatbed cart, yet they were surprisingly well-preserved. Over the years, this cart had faithfully served as their home, and it had become an integral part of their nomadic existence.

As they left the village behind, albeit at a slow pace, Mardi felt a sense of relief. She retrieved her bow and slingshot from beneath the seat, ready to defend against any potential threats from behind. When it came to using a bow, Mardi was a skilled archer. She could track and hunt with precision, but her targets had always been animals — rabbits,