To Vanquish Darkness (Le Sombre Book 1) by Cindy Gunderson

To Vanquish Darkness (Le Sombre Book 1) by Cindy Gunderson

Author:Cindy Gunderson [Gunderson, Cindy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-10-22T00:00:00+00:00


Somehow, Amalie slept. She dreamed of her mother. Of the two of them finding each other in different lives. Sometimes they were friends, sometimes family, and once she held her mother in her own arms as a baby. She woke in the darkness coated in sweat wearing the same clothes from the rooftop.

It took a moment for the events in Theo’s room to connect themselves in her head. When they did, warmth spread through her chest. Her mother wasn’t gone. Not forever. She couldn’t have her now, but the thought that she existed somewhere was a salve on her broken heart.

The warmth was driven out as cold dread settled in her stomach.

Theo knew her.

He’d been with her in another life, possibly more than one if the flashes of memory in her head were to be believed. Had he been her captor in each? If Theo had seen her find the sword, why hadn’t he used it then? He said it had been stolen, but wouldn’t he have had time? Couldn’t he have ended his life?

The questions flowed in a constant stream, and she had answers to none of them. Amalie hugged her knees to her chest. She’d left Uncle Oren’s to avenge her mother’s death, yes, but it wasn’t only justice. She wanted to protect her family and all families like hers. Innocent people attacked every day in their cities and villages.

It had been simple. Train. Fight. Vanquish.

Amalie ran her thumb over the puckered flesh on her forearm. Nothing was simple anymore.

The door to her room opened, and Henriette entered carrying a tray and a candle. “Oh! You’re awake. I was going to leave this for you⁠—”

“I need more books.” Amalie dropped her legs to the bed. “Specifically on France in the fifteenth century. Anything on a female warrior, a sword, or⁠—”

“On Joan of Arc, then?”

Amalie frowned, then shook her head. “No, this woman wouldn’t have been that impressive.”

Henriette bobbed her head. “Of course. I’ll find what I can.” She left the tray on the nightstand, lit the candles hanging in their holders on the wall with her flame, and exited the room.

Amalie ate in silence, and by the time she finished, Henriette was already back carrying a stack of books.

She grunted as she set them down on the writing desk next to the others. “Some of these may not be relevant, but I thought it best to be thorough.”

Amalie scooted off the bed. “Thank you, Henriette.” She could hardly wait to crack open the first cover. Henriette quietly cleaned and removed her tray behind her. Amalie barely heard the click of the door as she left.

She scanned the sections of the first book, Vies des Saints et des Martyrs. It seemed to be a religious text recounting the lives of saints and martyrs, an inspirational work. She flipped to halfway through the book and paused. Joan of Arc. Martyred in 1431 and later canonized.

Amalie set the book down and grabbed the next. Le Traité de la Guerre et la Paix, a treaty on war and peace.



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