Forged

Welcome! I’m sharing the first chapter of my new book, Forged. I hope you enjoy it.

One who is truly royal born

Who does not seek what is freely given

One whose love is truly borne

Through all the joys and trouble seen

The love is lost unjustly torn

From the one’s eternal embrace

Then through grief and rage the one is reborn

Krogan Prophecy

PART ONE

                                                                       ELISA

Chapter One

The warrior queen stands in the center of the raging battle. Blood drips from her soldiers’ wounds as they fight to defend their people. She stands shoulder to shoulder with her troops, fighting with her whole body. Swing after bloody swing against the enemy. This is her destiny. She is their leader against the ravages of the raging horde surrounding their homeland. The line breaks. She raises her sword high, prepared to destroy the horde.

“Ouch!”

“Elisa pay attention! Get your head out of the clouds.” Martus’s steel-shod boots gleamed in the hot sun as he held his practice sword firmly at this side. His long blonde hair was pulled back in a tail and his strong but slight frame, clothed in leather embossed armor, cast a long shadow on the dirt of the practice field. His face reflected hers. As twins he was shunned by most everyone except his family. A male born into the royal house of Shairlynn had never happened in all the centuries since their rise to power. He had trained as a soldier a year longer and while their father approved of Elisa’s desire to learn their mother protested. Martus was destined to be a soldier like his father. He hated his father, he hated his fate and vowed someday to be powerful enough that he would be more than a soldier.

Elisa dropped the wooden practice sword and held her right wrist gingerly. She felt it throb and pulse wondering if it was broken. She pulled back the sleeve of her linen tunic and looked for blood, which would anger her mother. Elisa herself felt angry at her brother for many things but today it was his purposeful swing meant to disarm and injure a warrior. He knew she hadn’t learned the defense for this move, which he refused to teach her, and pushed on her weaknesses. She knew of the whispers behind his back, and though she felt sorry for him, she also felt it wasn’t fair that he took it out on her. Her blonde hair fell in tendrils from the tail at the base of her neck and she could feel tears forming in her bright blue eyes. She wouldn’t cry. Warriors didn’t cry.

“Sorry,” he said looking totally unconcerned.

He stepped forward and looked down at her wrist. It was red and starting to swell.

“I don’t think it’s broken. Just banged up.”

“It really hurts.”

“If you’re going to be a baby about it maybe you shouldn’t be out here trying to learn how to use a sword. If you’re ever in battle someone is going to hit you and it’s going to hurt.”

“I know.”

Elisa flexed her wrist a couple of times moving it up and down, right and left. It started to feel better, and she felt a flush of shame. Martus was right. If she was going to learn how to use a sword, she had to expect to get hurt. She just hated the fact that she could only practice with Martus. Their mother, the Queen of the southern kingdom of Tamaris, was against Elisa learning sword craft. Baldric, the queen’s consort, and Elisa and Martus’s father supported her desire to learn.  He explained to the queen that if Elisa were to find herself on a battlefield, she should know how to defend herself if her guards fell. The Queen quietly explained that Elisa would have use of her power and therefore would not be defenseless. It was an argument that had gone on since Elisa was old enough to lift a practice sword. Elisa wanted to learn. She’d read a journal of her ancestor, Marea, and how she was a warrior before she’d been given power from the god, Malinor. The Shairlynn line had been blessed with the One Power long ago after the world of Tryindol had been created, but Marea had also been a warrior capable of welding a sword as easily as any man. She used both to bring the people of the world into peace and the four kingdoms grew within this peace. One kingdom honored war above all else and were considered barbarians. But they had only laid siege to Tamaris once in all the centuries. A mighty queen warrior had arisen to quell the fighting of all the kingdoms during a long and bloody civil war that had threatened to decimate the world of Tryindol. That had been Marea, warrior queen. Saver of worlds.

“Elisa? Are we going to continue or are you going to cry like a girl and go play with your dolls?”

Elisa clenched her jaw. Her twin could be insufferable and took every opportunity to pick at her. Most twins got along, seeming to read each other’s thoughts, but Martus kept himself shuttered and distant. She reached down, picked up the sword and swung it in her right hand experimentally. Her sleeve slipped back into place, and she arranged her leather-clad legs in a fighter’s stance. She clenched and unclenched her toes inside her leather boots to relieve some tension and stood ready. The wrist ached a little, but she could bear it.

“Let’s continue,” she said determination in her voice and in her stance.

Martus spread his feet, lifted his sword, brought it to his forehead and then down into ready position. The salute indicated he was ready to begin, and Elisa followed suit.

Martus came in fast with an overhead swing and Elisa raised her sword to defend. Martus was taking advantage of his superior strength and knew that with one good hit, Elisa’s injured arm would drop. It had happened so often during their practice sessions Martus wondered why he continued to indulge her in her ridiculous goal to learn how to wield a sword.

As expected, the blow came down but instead of blocking it she leapt back and avoided the stroke. Martus was over balanced and stumbled forward. Elisa immediately took advantage and brought her sword under Martus’s chin, pointing the tip at his Adams Apple.

“Ha! Finally!” she exclaimed.

Elisa was flushed with her victory, but Martus was steaming. She had successfully defended herself and made him look like a fool.

“You got lucky” he said.

“Did not. I’ve been trying to come up with a defense to that move for a couple of weeks since you wouldn’t teach me. I realized you swing with your entire upper body, and I wondered what would happen if I wasn’t there. Now I know.”

“Well, I’m done.” He threw the wooden sword onto the hard packed dirt of the practice grounds. Many soldiers used the arena but during the hot afternoons it was left empty. The southern kingdom of Tamaris existed in a temperate part of the continent. Warm summers and slightly cooler winters. But when the cooler winds from the north occasionally swept down every one month in the winter then the people shivered and stayed indoors. Martus had agreed to practice with her only in the afternoons. He didn’t want to be seen by the other soldiers swinging a sword with a girl.

Elisa watched as he stalked off a little smile playing around her mouth. She had to admit she felt pretty good. She picked up the sword Martus had left lying in the dirt and walked to the weapons rack hanging from the side of the soldiers armory, and hung both on the wooden dowels.

“At least you know how to take care of your weapon” Jamison said. The weapons trainer was older and well built. He was a legend in Tamaris having fought alongside the queen in their battle against the kingdom of Krogan when it sought conquest instead of an alliance.

Elisa turned and smiled. The man was huge, and every inch was bulging with muscle. He was also extremely handsome with a wide smile and the blonde hair common for the people of the kingdom. It brushed the nape of his neck. He was never alone very long in the pubs. Or so she’d heard. Jamison didn’t always agree with her father’s desire to see her trained, but he always made time for her after her sparring sessions with Martus.

“I saw that move you pulled on Martus. Nicely done. I’ve seen men on the battlefield do the same thing. The best defense against an opponent that outweighs you is to be nimble and quick.”

Elisa undid the cloth tie holding back her curly hair and shook it out. Her eyes, shone with victory, as she looked at the weapon’s master seriously.

“I know he outweighs me but I’m getting taller. One day his size won’t matter.”

“Young miss, one day you’ll be Queen and wielding your family’s ancestral power. All this sword play will be a distant memory. You’re destined for larger things than the life of a soldier.”

She looked down at her feet and felt her temper rise. She clenched her hands into fists and willed her tongue to be still. “I know my place, Sir Jamison, and I can assure you one day I will wield a sword as well as you.”

Elisa turned on her heel and strode across the practice grounds and out through the gate. She was angry. So very angry. She knew her destiny but a part of her doubted she would ever be Queen. She was eighteen and had yet to feel any sign the One Power was within her.  She hadn’t said anything to anyone. When asked she changed the subject or excused herself saying she had duties somewhere else. She didn’t know how much longer this tactic would last but telling her mother she couldn’t feel the power wasn’t an option. The entire kingdom was depending on her.  She would just add another meditation session to her schedule and hope that would help her touch the power that was her birthright.

Elisa entered the castle through the eastern door which led to the stairs going up to the second floor and her room. The castle was old but well maintained. The outer walls were coated in white clay, which was prevalent in the kingdom. The walls surrounding the castle were built of stone dredged from the Infinite Sea on the southern shore of Tamaris. The inside of the castle was where it shone. The stone had been left bare but after centuries it glowed reflecting light that poured in from the upper windows. Her mother had commissioned scenes from previous battles woven into tapestries made of fine wool and linen to hang on the walls along the stone stairway.

The castle sat in the middle of the kingdom of Tamaris. The closest city was Canibri to the south, which sat on the shores of the Infinite Sea and provided seafood of all kinds for the kingdom. The ancient queens had not named the land on which the castle sat. They meant the castle to be the center of the kingdom but not owned by any city or village. It had created harmony and all those who were in need approached the castle and their queen with quiet respect and love.

Iria and Previs, both faming villagers, provide food for the entire kingdom and were well treated. They were important to the economy and well-being of all who lived in Tamaris. They lay to the west and experienced rainfall every afternoon all year long. It had been a gift from Queen Enira in the early years of the Kingdom. She was a great queen and had used her powers to build the kingdom into what it was today.

To the north were the plains, which no one entered. From that direction the warriors from Krogan came as a horde to crush Tamaris. There were people living on the plains and they were strong warriors themselves but did not interfere with other kingdoms and their politics. Three times over the centuries a king would rise in Krogan and decide he wanted the rich and fertile land of Tamaris, and three times a queen used her power to aggressively push them back into their cold mountain homes. Tamarian soldiers were well known for their fighting prowess and while the queen rested after using her power they would engage in combat and use it to push the Krogan warriors back and away from Tamaris. And so it would go until the horde were driven from Tamaris and back into the plains. Krogan’s king had no magical power. The power had only been gifted to the queens of Tamaris and it was to be used for the betterment of the world. But the other three kingdoms were jealous and wanted to control a queen and force her to serve them. So, every soldier was trained to wield a sword from a very young age and those who showed the most prowess were elevated to the Queen’s Guard led by Baldric, the queen’s consort. 

Elisa was hot, tired and dirty and needed to get some cool water on her wrist. It hurt now that she was thinking about it. She took the stairs two at a time and when she was halfway to the top she heard her mother’s voice. She stopped, gathered herself and ascended the stairs at a more sedate pace. It would do to be seen charging up the stairs like a charging bull.

“There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Oh no. You’ve been on the practice grounds again” Her mother, Adalynn, was beautiful, or so she appeared to Elisa. Long white hair swept back from her face, long curls flowing down her slender shoulders. She was as powerful as she was beautiful, and many said you could see the power running like lightening through her blue eyes.

“Yes mother. Martus and I were sparring. Just a little bit.”

The Queen beckoned Elisa forward and took her right wrist in her hand. She inhaled sharply seeing how red and swollen it looked.

“You’re going to need to put cool cloths on this, so it doesn’t swell up more.”

“Yes mother.”

“You missed your meditation session this morning.”

“I know.”

“Sweetling, you have other responsibilities and this nonsense of learning how to fight just can’t go on. In any case, you’re leaving tomorrow, and you won’t have time at the citadel for such things as sword fighting.”

Elisa hung her head letting her long hair hide the disappointment in her eyes. She held her wrist gently and sighed heavily. She knew her responsibilities. She knew what was expected of her. She didn’t need everyone reminding her. She was heir to the power and queen. One day she was expected to ascend to the throne when her mother could no longer rule or passed through the mists to be with their ancestors.

“Elisa tend to your wrist then lay down for a short while. I think you could use a rest before the party.”

“Yes Mother.”

ADALYNN TURNED and walked down the long hallway toward her own chambers. The heir always occupied the rooms on the same floor and in the same wing as the Queen. The floor also had a meditation room, a sewing room, a small library, and a sitting room where she was expected to spend long hours doing needle point. Elisa avoided that room as much as possible and spent most of her time reading tomes about sword play and adventures of great warriors from other kingdoms.  Martus wasn’t allowed to use the library in this wing, but he had full access to the main library at the back of the castle. He said he preferred to spend his time there anyway because it was closer to his own chambers.

Elisa continued down the hallway and approached the door to her chamber on the right. She entered quietly hoping she would be alone. She heaved a sigh of relief when she saw that her nursemaid wasn’t in the room. She loved Salena but the older woman tended to hover and as Elisa was getting older, she felt smothered at times. The bed was made and her clothes for the journey were packed in her trunk. Her riding outfit was laid out in anticipation of the long journey. Elisa stood looking around the room with its linen window coverings and woven rugs. The fireplace at the end of the room was used during the cooler months. Storms did blow in from the sea and there had been floods around the Minius river. Small villages were affected but her mother would stand before the storm, call up her power to quiet it, and the waters would recede. Those affected would be cared for and their homes rebuilt or repaired.

She moved to the window that faced the north wall and looked out, leaning forward and putting her chin in her hands. A lone tear trickled down her dusty cheek as she contemplated the journey she would start tomorrow. Every heir to the throne left the castle to travel to Medullium within the Moradan forest two days ride north from the castle. There she would enter the Ocla Citadel where she would be trained to control her ancestor’s power. Traditionally the heir could at least touch the power at fourteen and by the time they were sixteen they could potentially lose control. The training started for Elisa when she was thirteen. Her mother insisted she start meditation sessions and learn the history of the women who had wielded their power. At first Elisa thought the meditation lessons were boring but as time went on, she learned to let her mind quiet, and she was blissfully alone with her thoughts. She still had not felt any sense of the power. Not even a tickle. She kept this fact hidden out a sense of failure and shame. If her mother found out her daughter was powerless, she would have to tell the people there was no heir to the throne and the entire kingdom would be thrown into anarchy. A heavy burden for an eighteen-year-old girl.

Elisa shook her head and wiped the tears away. She couldn’t think about that right now. Her wrist was throbbing, and she really did feel the need to lay down for a bit. She went to the wash stand next to the window and was pleased to see the pitcher was filled with cool water, with linen cloths sitting next to it. She placed a clean, white cloth in the basin and had to use her left hand to pour the water over the cloth. She placed the pitcher back on the stand, wrung out the cloth and laid it on her wrist. The relief was glorious. The water cooled the ache and sent a chill up her arm. She moved across the room to sit on the couch. Maybe she would just sit for a bit and relax. She was afraid of falling asleep. She didn’t want to dream. They were filled with wild images of clashing swords and brutal men.

THERE WAS a knock on the door, and it opened quietly. Salena peeked through the crack and smiled when she saw Elisa sitting down.  She entered fully and moved slowly across the room. She was old when Elisa was a baby and now, she looked ancient. Her slender body bent forward at the waist and her legs which barely supported her weight, creaked when she walked. Her steel-gray hair was plaited into a single rope and looped into a bun at the base of her neck. But her face. Oh, her face. It shone with vitality. Her eyes were pale, faded blue, and her smile lit up a room. Elisa loved her enormously and a smile bloomed on her face as her nursemaid entered.

“I see you’ve hurt yourself again. Child you must have a care. You’re getting too old to play these games.”

Elisa rolled her eyes and patted the seat next to her.

“Sit down Selly. You look tired.”

“I am just fine young lady. I may be old, but I still can get myself around. But I will sit for a bit. It’s time we had a talk.”

Elisa raised her eyebrows and felt a little flip in her stomach. Did Salena know? Oh goddess! What would she do if Salena had figured out her secret. She took a deep breath and curled the corners of her mouth up into a quizzical smile.

“Oh?”

Salena lowered slowly to sit on the couch. She reached and took Elisa’s right wrist in her hand. She turned in slightly and Elisa winced. Salena took the cloth and placed it over the wrist then brought it up to her lips and kissed it.

“There now. All better.”

Elisa laughed and hugged Salena.

“If only it were that simple Selly.”

“Child, life can be complicated, but love is simple. Now, we need to talk. You’re leaving tomorrow and I have some things I need to say.”

Salena took a deep breath and cleared her throat.

“Elly.”

The simple endearment touched Elisa and she smiled gently. Oh, how she loved this woman. There was nothing Elisa wouldn’t do for her, all she had to do was ask. Salena had been the hand that guided her through childhood and puberty. Salena could be strict and wouldn’t hesitate to punish, but she was always fair, and always spoke her mind. Elisa held her breath and waited to hear what Salena had to say.

“Elly. You are about to embark on a very dangerous and exciting adventure. You’ll be leaving home for the first time on your own. You will not have family to protect you. The guards who will escort you to Medullium will protect you, but you must remember they are not friends. You will comport yourself with grace and dignity. You are the heir to the throne, and I won’t have you sitting around the campfire listening to the tales of soldiers.”

Salena stopped and looked deeply into Elisa’s green eyes.

“I know.” Salena said.

“Know what?” Elisa felt her hands begin to shake and a flush rose up from the flutter in her stomach.

“Elisa, I know. You can’t touch the power can you child?”                                

Elisa turned her head away hiding her face from Salena. If she confirmed Salena’s statement, she would have someone to share her fears with and someone who could offer her advice. But if Salena knew, Elisa would be in danger. Salena would be honor bound to tell the Queen her daughter could not wield the power. She trusted Salena but the nursemaid’s loyalties were always to Adalynn.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Elisa said.

“Don’t you dare lie to me Elisa. I’ve known you your whole life. I was your mother’s handmaid before I became your nursemaid. And my mother was Adalynn’s nursemaid and watched her come into her power. You show none of the signs. You’re powerless. But I see you don’t trust me so I’m going to tell you this. I believe the power is coming late to you because you’re a twin. This is something that has never happened in your line. I believe when you get to the Citadel the Sisters of the Sun will take you through the training and the power will begin to flow through you. There is a reason the training takes place in Medullium. Magic flows there.”

Elisa turned toward Salena but didn’t say a word as tears streamed down her cheeks and fell in great drops onto her hands. Salena knew and would keep her secret. She wasn’t alone anymore. She had someone who believed in her.