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Beginning in 1347 and continuing for a full five years, a devastating plague swept Europe, leaving more than twenty million dead.

This epidemic, now known as the "Black Death", was an outbreak of bubonic plague with the consequences to Europe being profound.

Besides immeasurable pain and grief, traditional Medieval society was thrown into chaos; economies were fractured, the Church lost status, and art and literature took a turn for the gruesome and bizarre.

The overall population of Europe would not surpass pre-1348 levels until 500 years later.

In terms of carnage alone, no war has even come close to that level of long-term devastation.

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Prologue

1338 AD

They came without warning.

No sound, smell or sight advertised their arrival into their village but once they were there they wouldn’t leave until every house had been burnt to the ground and every man, woman and child had been killed.

“Run! Find your mother and sister and run!” Her father shouted at his youngest daughter, Isadora, fear gripping his heart.

Pushing her backwards, towards their small hut, where her sister, Henrietta, would be making supper with her mother, she found herself staring up at her father with confusion.

“Father!?” Isadora yelled as she watched her father turn and head towards the invading army which looked like an impossible wall of black descending over her village.

The local boys down by the river had spoken of them and said that they had been making their way through England; burning and pillaging towns until they got what they wanted.

Izzie had insisted that they were lying and ran home but it seemed that she was wrong and now the thousand strong army was heading for her village.

“Mother! Henrietta!” Izzie screamed as she ran home, the roads crowded with fleeing villagers and Izzie was being pushed around and squeezed in tight at the same time until she felt like she couldn’t breathe.

Screams were renting the air and they only grew louder as the army got closer. The earth seemed to shake as Izzie pushed her way to the side of a hut and started to climb, her favourite past time.

Tall for her age, Izzie secured her foot upon the window opening and was able to pull herself up onto the straw roof, wind blowing around her thin body.

Hauling herself to her feet, she stood and gazed out at their minor village and looked around in horror.

Fire was raging through the village already and as she looked into the distance she could see only a wave of blackness which, as they got closer, she saw were hundreds of men draped in black cloth and silver helmets.

Some were on horses whilst others just ran in front grabbing women and pushing swords into men’s chests.

Izzie turned her head in full circle trying to figure out where to go and once she figured it out she ran. And ran and ran!

Her feet were unsteady as she jumped from roof to roof but she went on; she needed to find her mother and sister. Her father had told her so. She needed to find them.

Seeing their hut in the distance she got to a hut away before she slid down the side and darted across the path to her front door.

Pushing it open with all her strength she walked in on her mother and sister running around frantically; she saw her mother hiding the family silver.

“Isadora!” Her mother yelled and she ran across, wrapping Izzie up in her arms.

“Mummy!” Izzie cried back and scrunched her mother’s dress material in her hands.

“Henrietta take your sister,” her mother ordered as she stood and grabbed a bag which Henrietta took as well.

Izzie was pushed into her sisters arms who gathered her up and started to push her out of the door when they saw the soldiers running down the path right towards them.

“They’re here!” Henrietta yelled and then everything happened fast.

Izzie was pushed into the small cloak room at the back; the wooden door being shut in front of her.

“Stay quiet, Izzie,” Henrietta made her promise, “No matter what happens, stay quiet!”

Izzie was crying, the tears forming streaks down her cheeks, as the door to their hut was suddenly busted open and no more than four soldiers came running into the room.

Izzie clasped her hand over her mouth and bit down on her fingers to keep from yelling out as her mother and sister were thrown across the room.

“Let’s have some fun,” one of the men chuckled, Izzie didn’t know which, but in the next hour Izzie watched her mother and sister being held on the floor, their skirts hitched up around their hips, whilst the men seemed to thrust atop them.

Izzie didn’t understand what they were doing but the way her mother and sister were screaming made Izzie cry even more but no matter what they did Izzie found that she couldn’t look away.

If she looked away then maybe it wasn’t real, maybe it was all just a bad dream, but it wasn’t and Izzie couldn’t look away, no matter how hard she tried.

Izzie thought it was all over as yells from outside had the soldiers diverting their attention away. Izzie looked at her mother and saw her eyes collide with hers and Izzie had never seen her mother so distraught and broken.

It looked like there was no life in her at all, like she was dead on the floor but Izzie could see her breathing. And then, a soldier returned and drove his sword down into their chests, red liquid pouring out and staining the floor around their bodies.

And then they left.

Izzie stayed in the cupboard for she didn’t know how long. She curled up on the floor, pulled her knees to her chest and cried.

She cried until she couldn’t cry anymore and then she slept.

When she awoke, her eyes were sore and her throat was dry, as she crawled out of the cupboard and went over to her mother, she pressed a soft kiss to her mother’s forehead and took her mother’s favourite necklace which lay cold on her throat.

It was a silver charm of a small bird on a long length of black string; placing it over her own head, Izzie kissed her sister goodbye as well and took the bag of food her mother had prepared for her and her sister to run away with before she was murdered.

Opening the door, the sunlight blinded her momentarily, and she looked around to see smoke rising from houses making the village smell of burnt hay and flesh rather than the freshly baked bread she was used to.

Not knowing where to go she tried looking for her father but she found no living person; she ran away from the piles of dead bodies, too scared to go near them, and found herself on the trail out of their small village and into the world beyond.