Lords of the Seventh Swarm

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When Thomas Flynn deserted his niece in her hour of need, he did it with the best intentions. Oh, he knew Maggie would damn him for the deed and curse him till the day he died-and beyond. But he’d won the contempt of better people. So he deserted her.

The truth was that, though Gallen and Maggie determined to run off to Tremonthin to fight the Inhuman, Thomas knew he shouldn’t go. He felt a deep warning in his heart-“It’s a hero they want, someone to brandish a sword, not a minstrel with an overlarge gut and gaudy attire.” Some folks might ascribe such misgivings to cowardice, but Thomas held with certain sects of priests who would call it “inspiration.” You should always listen to that inner voice, they’d say, and this time Thomas agreed.

He’d never been one to face danger. A good pair of legs and a keen eye for the nearest thicket could extricate a man from most situations. So when Gallen told Thomas that he had to come to Tremonthin with him and Maggie, Thomas’s first inclination, and last, was to run.

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