THE ROADS OF REVENGE Book 3 of 4
BOOK THREE: THE ROADS OF REVENGE


Book Three

Before he was a legend, he was a boy with a dream.

Jack Marlow was never meant to be a hero. He was a farmer's son, a boy who dreamed of seeing the world beyond his small village. But when war breaks out, he joins the army, hoping to find glory and adventure.

Instead, he finds horror.

In the trenches, Jack witnesses the worst of humanity: cruelty, greed, and the senseless slaughter of innocent people. He returns home broken, only to find that his family has been destroyed and his land stolen.

Now, he must choose: sink into despair, or rise up and fight.

This is the story of how the Midnight Rider was born. A story of loss, grief, and the unbreakable spirit of one man who refused to give up.

For fans of The Revenant and The Last Kingdom, The Roads of Revenge is a powerful prequel that explores the man behind the mask.

Book Three Chapters
Chapter 1: The Boy Who Dreamed
Jack Marlow was seven years old when he first saw the Midnight Rider.

It was a legend, of course. A story his grandmother told him on cold winter nights, about a hero who rode through the darkness, stealing from the rich and giving to the poor. The Midnight Rider was a symbol of hope, a reminder that even in the darkest times, there was always a spark of light.

"One day, I'm going to be like him," Jack told his grandmother. "I'm going to be a hero."

She smiled, her eyes twinkling. "You're going to be something even better, Jack. You're going to be yourself. And that's enough."

But Jack didn't believe her. He wanted to be extraordinary. He wanted to be a legend.

Chapter 2: The War Comes
When Jack was eighteen, war broke out.

The country was torn apart by civil strife, the old nobility fighting for control of the land. Jack enlisted, eager to prove himself.

The war was nothing like he'd imagined.

He spent months in the trenches, knee-deep in mud and blood. He watched his friends die. He killed men he'd never met. He saw the worst of humanity, and he lost faith in everything he'd ever believed.

"What are we fighting for?" he asked his commanding officer.

The officer laughed. "We're fighting for the rich, boy. That's all we've ever fought for."

Jack realized, in that moment, that he'd been a fool. He'd believed in honor and duty and glory. But those were lies, told by the powerful to keep the weak in line.

He deserted the army and began the long journey home.

Chapter 3: The Homecoming
The farm was gone.

Jack stood at the edge of his father's land, staring at the ruins of the cottage. The fields were overgrown. The livestock was gone. And on the wall, scratched into the plaster, was the mark of the Blackwood Estate.

He found his father's body in the cottage, his chest stained with dried blood.

Jack collapsed to his knees, his grief overwhelming him. He'd left to fight for his country. He'd left to be a hero. And while he'd been gone, the world had stolen everything he loved.

He buried his father in the field behind the cottage, marking the grave with a simple wooden cross.

"I'm sorry, Pa," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

He sat beside the grave for hours, the rain soaking through his clothes.

Chapter 4: The First Ride
Jack spent weeks wandering, searching for purpose.

He stumbled upon a small village that had been ravaged by toll collectors. The villagers were starving, their children crying in the streets. They had nothing left to give, but the toll lords still demanded their pound of flesh.

Jack watched them suffer, and he felt the first spark of something he'd thought was dead.

Rage.

He waited until nightfall. He donned a black cloak and tied a cloth around his face. He took his father's old pistol and his grandfather's sword.

He rode into the night, and he didn't stop until he reached the nearest toll.

The guards were lazy, fat and complacent. They didn't see him coming until it was too late.

Jack fired his pistol, and the first guard crumpled. The others scrambled for their weapons, but Jack was already among them, his sword flashing in the torchlight.

They fell, one by one, wounded but alive.

Jack stood over them, his chest heaving. He looked at the gate, at the symbol of oppression it represented. He knew, in that moment, that he couldn't stop. He had to keep fighting. For his father. For the villagers. For everyone who'd been crushed under the weight of tyranny.

From that night on, he was no longer Jack Marlow.

He was the Midnight Rider.

Chapter 5: The Legend Begins
The legend of the Midnight Rider grew with each passing month.

Jack robbed coaches and burned tolls. He freed prisoners and gave money to the poor. He became a symbol of resistance, a hero to the oppressed and a nightmare to the powerful.

But he was also a man, flawed and broken, carrying the weight of his grief.

He couldn't save everyone. He couldn't undo the past. But he could fight. And as long as he was fighting, there was hope.

Chapter 6: The Meeting with Isabella
Jack didn't know who Isabella Blackwood was when he first saw her. She was just another beautiful face at a masquerade, another pawn in the game of power.

But then she spoke, and he realized she was something more.

She was a spy. A rebel. A woman who'd been trapped in a gilded cage and was desperate to escape.

"Why are you helping me?" he asked her.

"Because I want to see him fall," she said. "I want to see him lose everything he's ever built. And I know that you're the only person who can make that happen."

Jack looked at her, seeing the steel beneath the silk. He knew, in that moment, that she was more than just an ally.

She was his equal.

Chapter 7: The Betrayal
The betrayal came in a dark alley, surrounded by the shadows of Blackwood's men.

Jack had trusted someone he shouldn't have. A friend, a comrade, someone who'd sold him out for gold.

He was beaten and thrown into a cell, left to rot in the darkness. He thought about his father. He thought about his land. He thought about everything he'd fought for.

And he realized, in that moment, that he'd been a fool.

He'd believed in justice. He'd believed in hope. But the world was cruel, and the powerful would always find a way to win.

But then Isabella came for him. She risked everything to save him, to give him a second chance.

"Why?" he asked. "Why did you come back for me?"

"Because you're worth saving," she said. "Because you're the only person who can make a difference."

Jack looked at her, and he knew that he'd found something he'd thought he'd lost forever.

Hope.

Book Three Epilogue
Jack stood on a hill overlooking the valley, Isabella at his side.

"Look at it," she said. "Everything we've built."

Jack looked at the farms and villages below, the people living in peace and freedom. It wasn't perfect. It would never be perfect. But it was theirs.

"I never thought I'd see this," he said. "I never thought I'd be happy again."

Isabella took his hand. "You deserve to be happy, Jack. You've earned it."

Jack smiled, and for the first time in years, he felt something he'd thought was lost forever.

Peace.