About The Book
Got monsters? You need Eno the Thracian! He's the guy with the answer to your problems, whether they're as small as a dragonet you need moved to the other side of the mountain or as big as a minotaur wreaking havoc in your palace. He can train your youth for battle, cure your vizier of fatal ambition, or slay hydras (up to seven heads only, please).
As you may know, there's a serious hero shortage in Greece at the moment. Most of the more famous heroes have heeded their ancient promises and gone to help out one side or the other in the Trojan War. But the need for heroes hasn't lessened since the war; if anything it has increased. More monsters than ever are appearing in our blessed islands. If you're one of the unlucky ones beset by strange beasts, summon Eno the Thracian.
Swift sword...reasonable rates.
Between Gods and mortals are the heroes, men of might and valor clad in supernatural armor and unending self-satisfaction. They are usually related in some degree to the Olympian they are fighting against or for. The Gods admire them as the finest examples of human-kind, though that doesn't always prevent heroes from coming to a sticky end. Their stories are the stuff of legend, told and re-told around countless fires. Emulating them is an excellent way to wind up dead.
So what is a farmer or petty king to do when all the heroes are off fighting somewhere else? Somewhere like Troy, for instance.
The Battle for Troy has been good for my business. With most of the big-name heroes off salvaging Menelaus’ pride, wounded by a wandering wife, who are you going to summon to battle the monsters rampaging through your vineyards and carrying off your maidens? What about the guy who’d posted the following in the marketplace?
Hero for Hire. All monsters dispatched from carnivorous geese to Minotaurs. Special rates for multiples. Eno the Thracian at the sign of the Ram’s Head, one flight up.
But, to be a bit vain myself, I’m more than your average sword-swinger. Let’s say you’re a nice young prince, new to the ruling game, and you’ve got this chief vizier with a square beard and a twisted mind. Sure, you could just hack off his head and hire a fresh face but there’s something about the job that turns an ordinary civil servant into a gibbering, war-whooping maniac with eyes for your wife, your daughter, or your throne. Throw in a few magical powers, and you’re going to find yourself in need of some muscle. Muscle alone is all very well but muscle that can outthink the traps, monsters, and mental trickery old Weird Beard has thrown around his Fortress of Death is easily worth an extra five drachma per day. Plus expenses.
I’m getting a reputation for being that man. It doesn’t pay all that well but I’m in demand more than ever recently. Business has been picking up as preternatural creatures seem to be on the increase. I'd just gotten back from a nice little job in Syria where...well, another time.
About The Author
C.B. Pratt is a multi-published author, both traditionally and independently. She lives in Orlando, Florida, not far from the Mouse Empire.