Author: Lesley Wilson
Title: Oric and the Web of Evil
Series: The Oric Trilogy, Book 3
Genre: Medieval Adventure/Romance
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After years of seeking his identity, Oric discovers who he is. He reluctantly claims his inheritance and takes up residence on his poverty-stricken estate.
Fearing their new master to be yet another tyrannical landowner, local peasants and tenant farmers remain surly and uncommunicative. A would-be herbalist, and part time fortune- teller, exacerbates the situation by doing everything in her power to discredit Oric.
Son of Lockton Castle’s former illegal owner, seethes over his father’s death and the loss of his home. Determined to wreak revenge, he spreads a web of evil that encompasses the entire district. Oric takes every eventuality in his stride – until his ladylove is kidnapped. Upon receipt of a ransom note, his fury knows no bounds.
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Wandering listlessly into the bailey, Lockton Castle’s dismal atmosphere closed around Oric like a damp shroud.
Gatekeeper Rory, wanting to keep on the good side of his new master, all but curtsied. “Will I close the portcullis now, your worshipfulness?” he asked.
Oric gave a curt nod. The obsequious, bandy-legged little man made his flesh creep.
Rattles and clanks issued from the gate’s tortured mechanism, setting Oric’s teeth on edge. “For the sake of sanity, Rory, do something with that wretched gate! Maintain it properly or seek employment elsewhere.”
Rory popped his head out of a narrow window half way up the gatehouse wall, reminding Oric of a ferret in a rabbit hole. He tugged on his forelock. “Aye sir, yes sir. Will there be anything else you require, sir?”
“Get someone to help you cleanse that stinking moat before someone dies from the fumes issuing from it.” Many extra people in residence during Yuletide had caused human waste to outweigh the quantity of clean water.
“Aye, sir, I will get on to it straight away, sir.”
Death had come too close for comfort on one or two occasions lately, and Rory intended to keep on Oric’s good side. He tightened the rope around his baggy breeches, praying a similar scenario would not include his neck any time soon.
Securing the winch, Rory thrust home the timber locking-device for what felt like the thousandth time. Words he had heard from the Bayersby people, for the duration of Sir Edred’s sojourn, rang inside his head. ‘Rory let me in! Rory let me out!’ Clang, clang, the bell beside the gate resounded from morn ‘til night. With the departure of the Bayersby folk, very few people remained at the castle, and Rory hoped not to hear such demands again for a long time.
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Born in North Yorkshire, Lesley Wilson was inspired to write stories at an early age. She turned her father’s garage into a theatre and produced juvenile dramas. Local kids who watched her shows were expected to donate a penny to the RSPCA. In her early teens, Lesley joined a theatre company and took part in many productions.
On a train trip to Italy in 1957, Lesley met a young man. A whirlwind courtship followed before he joined the British Army. Fifteen months and hundreds of letters later, Lesley, aged seventeen, boarded a troop ship bound for Singapore, where she married the love of her life.
Lesley’s careers have included fashion modeling, market research and running her own business but writing has always been her true passion. She completed a course in Journalism with the London School of Writing and has been an active member of a writers’ group.
She now lives with her husband in North Queensland and enjoys frequent visits by her two teenage grandchildren. When Lesley isn’t writing, she loves to read, entertain friends, and travel.
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