Thursday - My Heroes, Heroines and Villains - Searches Book 3 Affinities #MFRWauthor #Fantasy

Searches (Affinities Book 3 - Young Adult Fantasy, Books We Love)

The Heroine - Sydli
Sydli clenched her hands and tightened her barriers. Someone brushed her thoughts. She couldn't tell if the seaker was friend or foe. She pressed against the passage wall. The barrier was her only protection against an invasion of ther thougths. Had Emlu been able to block hers?
       Not that Lodar, the target of today ahd the ability ro read thoughts. He had wormed his way into their father's confidence. Why couldn't  her father see Lodar craved to be named when he wasn't entitled to the position?
      Seek the Rangers. They will help.
       A double voice sounded in her head and brought a startled cry she muffled with her fist. Who had managed to breach her barrier? What did the message mean?
        What?
       A different voice raised the question. The call to seek the Rovers came again. The double voice sounded friendly and the promise of a refuge pleased her. Could she convince Emli a flight was their only choice? Anything would be safer than here where Lodar laid plans to take the throne. Perhaps the Rovers could help them locate their mother's highland kin.
Sydli pushed away from the wall and scurried along the narrow hall to the kitchen area. She opened a part of the wall and entered the pantry. For a short time she remained behind the shelves and listened to the clatter of pans and the loud voices of the cooks and their helpers. Satisfied no one was about to enter she moved quickly. Into a sack she put a wheel of cheese, packets of journey food, flatbread, kaf and sweetener. She dragged the heavy bag to the circular room.
      She had found the room during her exploration of the inner ways her mother had shown her. When she'd looked for the area in the basement of the palace she had discovered only a stone wall with no possible opening.
The Hero - VALCON

            The midday sun of the late summer day beamed on the caravan consisting of three Rover wagons, several extra coursers and eight riders. Val tugged off his neck cloth and wiped his sweaty brow. Today he rode as rear guard and used his affinity for Water to search for emotions that spoke of strangers. As yet, the group seemed to be the only travelers for miles.

            He scanned the horizon. The grassy plains stretched to the east and the west of the old rutted road leading toward a distant grove of trees. The forest could hide attackers, but as yet he sensed no unknown enemies.

            The heavy loads stored in the wagons caused the slow progress. Val had to admit Doma Jandia was the best trader he had ever encountered. Not only did they have extra mounts there was enough food and grain to last a month or more along with the tools they needed to repair the abandoned keep. He grinned. They still had credit with the Rovers.

            An outburst of angry emotions impinged on his peace. Val’s hands clenched. Four days of travel beneath a hot sun had brought tempers to the fore, especially from those whose affinity for Fire guided their actions.

            Ky and her courser tore toward him. With one hand she held the reins. The other hand held a raised sword that blazed with flames. Behind her, Zand galloped. His sword showed a plume of fire. “Take that back,” he shouted.

            Val rode toward the pair. “Enough,” he cried. “Dampen those flames. Do you want to set the grass aflame and endanger us all?”

            “She called me a baby,” Zand said.

            Val sucked in a breath. “What did you say to her?”

            “That I was better with a sword.”

            Val nodded. “Since you have been practicing with one since you could hold a blade, how else could you be? I say you’re both acting like children.” In some ways they both were, not only in age but in experience. “Why don’t the pair of you spar after evening meal when Dragen can watch and comment?”

            The flames on Ky’s sword died. She turned to Zand. “A good idea.”

The Villain - Dom Senet appears in the other Affinity series books but in Searches more of his plans unfold.

She searched the winds for traces of the particular aroma of Dom Senet’s thoughts. He wasn’t in Cedris. Nor was he in the highlands. She continued to scent the winds until she smelled his essence. Cautiously, she slipped into his head.

He spoke to a pair of doms. Malera, Mandir and Lodar are in place and ready to do my bidding. They will seek the heirs of Easren, Nortren and Soutren. His laughter filled the wind. Ash felt cold.

They believe I will help them become the rulers of these princedoms. They will do all I ask until the day they learn there can only be one ruler. I am that one. You will remain hidden here. Two of my faithful will be sent to each of the other princedoms. I will tell you when and how to act. Though time will pass, you must remain alert.

Just as she was about to leave his thoughts, she caught a tendril leading to his plans for the four young men Zand and her brothers had met. She wanted to know more about them so she delved deeper. As she had suspected, the four were being trained to face her siblings and her. A sliver of fear sliced through her thoughts.

Ashlea?

Dom Senet’s voice. A surge of fear that wasn’t hers startled Ash. She broke the connection to the dom the way Doma Jandia had taught her. Come, she called to Kirlon. She felt him flee on her trail. Yet someone remained.

Who? Ash asked.

The Heroine --Sydli

Thursday - My Heroes, Heroines and Villains - Moon Summoned - Kobe, Dian, Sargon #MFRWauthor #fantasy

Moon Summoned - Hero - Kobe

A gong signaled the first call for breakfast. Kobe, oldest son of Prince Genrai, pulled the rough woolen blanket over the thin mattress. His narrow cell in the Citadel of the Gladius for the Lord of Shadows held the cot, a small chest and a row of hooks on the wall next to the door. He put a spare uniform in the pack along with the few things he planned to take home.

He stood near the door and thought about the reasons for his journey. Like the other sons of the princes, the wealthy merchants and the landowners, he had been sent here for military training. The champions of the Gladius were supreme warriors.

Kobe pressed his lips in a firm line. He was different from the rest of the sons for he had talents like those of the priests. These talents had brought him to the attention of Sargon.

What he had to do would be difficult. As soon as he reached his father’s stronghold, he would demand an audience and declare his intention to give up his position as heir and enter the priesthood. His father had to agree. There were other sons in the inner court. Since he was her only son, his mother would weep. She would lose her place as first woman. Still, becoming a champion was a greater challenge than being a satellite of a father who would live for many years.

A knock startled him. “Enter,” he said.

A serving woman dressed in a gauzy chiton bowed her head. Her gown resembled flames, revealing yet concealing her lush body. “Kobe, son of Genrai, the Gladius summons you to attend him in the mustering hall.”

As he followed her swaying body down the hall, he repeated the vows he’d taken after he’d drawn his sword from the elements. “I will take no woman to my bed until I am sworn to the Lord of Shadows. I will eat no rich food or imbibe fermenti until I can control my talent. I will wear no fine clothes until I don the silks of the champions.”

None of his peers had taken these vows. He had, and he would keep them.

Until recently, he’d not been tempted to transgress, but during the past few months, the scantily dressed servants and their musky perfumes had stirred desire. Too often he’d prayed to move quickly through the ranks and be allowed a woman.

The servant continued past the door to the hall. Kobe entered. Sargon sat on the dais at the end of the room. Kobe knelt before the chair and touched his forehead to the stone.

“Rise and join me.”

Kobe got to his feet and sat on a stool beside Sargon’s chair. “You honor me.”

The Gladius smiled. “You leave this morning for your father’s stronghold. Is that not so?”

“Yes.”

“What have you decided?”

“There is no other choice. My father will have to name another as heir. To deny the gifts given by the Lord of Shadows would be wrong. To use my talent without proper training would bring disaster.”

The Gladius saluted Kobe. “Your decision pleases me. When you return your training will begin. As I was when you drew your sword, I’ll be your mentor.”

“I’m honored.”

“Your potential is great, my boy. I’m concerned about this visit you make to your home. Can you resist the temptations your father will place in your path?”

Kobe swallowed. His mother would push his father to do his best to sway him. “I must. I’ve no desire to stand in my father’s shade. I will carve my own place.”

Sargon smiled. “Well said. I believe you can resist rich food and strong drink, but I fear you will be sorely tempted. The women of your father’s inner court are comely and you’re of an age when the juices flow hot. I’ve watched your gaze follow the serving women. Heed this warning. To fill a woman’s empty vessel before you’re trained will sap your talent.”

Kobe saluted. “I hear and I will stand firm. Have I your leave to break my fast before I depart?”

Sargon clapped his hands. “This morn you will eat with me. There’s a task I would have you do.”

Two women arrived. One bore a tray with boiled ovas and bread. The other carried mugs of steaming bitter kafla.

Kobe waited until the Gladius took his portion. “Tell me what you would have me do.”

“Your father discovered a nest of women who would be soldiers and took one as a prisoner. He sent no word to me of the captive. I would know why.”

Kobe frowned. What was his father planning? He needed the favor of the Gladius to remain in his place as prince. “I will learn the truth.”

Sargon nodded. “If this tale is true and he holds one of those sworn to the Abomination, bring her to me. The time approaches when I will have need of such a one.”

“I hear and obey.” Kobe drained his mug.

“May the Lord of Shadows strengthen your resolve.”

Moon Summoned - Heroine Dian


Shadows gathered in the corners of the room. Dian rolled to her side and tried to sit.

“Good. You are awake. I must prepare you for the Prince’s visit, but first you can eat.” The woman’s pale eyes shone with sympathy and concern.

“Who are you?”

“Binet, once of a house of healing. Now I am but a slave. ‘Twas an evil day when the gray priests followed the invaders to this nome.”

Her words touched a flood of memories. Dian recalled the day the enemy had swept into the village where she lived with her mother, a skilled weaver. The soldiers had taken the cloth and one of the under-officers had moved into her mother’s house and claimed her as his woman.

A year ago, he’d refused to pay Dian’s tax for she had no skills at the loom. She’d been slated for the pens, but her mother had sent her into the forest. For weeks, she’d wandered until she encountered a band of those who honored the Mistress as warriors.

Tears trickled from her eyes. “Why did this happen?” she cried.

Binet walked to the door. “’Tis bad to remember what was. You must learn to endure.”

How, Dian wondered. I must escape.

Seek the Place of Choosing.

She looked around to see who had spoken. Binet had left and there was no other in the room. What and where was this choosing place?

A short time later Binet returned with a tray. Dian ate the stew, bread and fruit. The food filled the hollow in her stomach, but added nothing to her confused thoughts.

As she drank a cup of tea, Quanta arrived. She motioned to Binet. “Remove the tray. Genrai comes.”

Sammi entered and crossed to the cot. “Did you eat?”

Before Dian could answer, a tall man with the broad shoulders of a swordsman strode into the room. Russet hair framed his face and touched his shoulders. He pulled the sheet away.

Dian tried to grab the covering. Quanta grasped Dian’s arm. “Do not fight. He is your owner.”

Dian closed her eyes to hide her anger. She wasn’t a slave. She was a warrior in training. If she had a sword, she would challenge this man. She flinched away from his touch.

“He won’t hurt you,” Sammi said. “Father, are you pleased?”

“Very much so. You’ve accomplished what your uncle, the great physician, deemed impossible. 

You’ll be rewarded. I’ve plans for this one.”

Dian opened her eyes. “I can’t stay here.”

He laughed. “A slave does as she’s bid.”

“Can I have her as my attendant?” Sammi asked.

“No.”

Quanta glared. “Will you take her to your bed?”

He chuckled. “She’s for Kobe. My son returns home with the thought of becoming a champion. Sargon lures Kobe with tales of a talent. One such as this slave could make him wish to break the vows he unwisely took.”

Quanta bowed her head. “You are wise, my prince.”

Sammi clapped her hands. “Dian, how wonderful is your lot. You will be my brother’s first woman. Though you can never be first woman in his inner court, you’ll have a special place with him.”

Dian shook her head. “You cannot keep me here.”

Prince Genrai snorted. “Do you expect that ragtag band of women to invade and extract you from my stronghold. Very unlikely. You will do as I order and be thankful.”

Once they left, Dian pulled the sheet around her. “I must escape.”

Binet bowed her head. “There is no way.”

“I need to be away from here. There is a place I must reach.”

“Did the blow to your head and the wound fever destroy your memories of what has happened? The Three are dead. The Mistress was defeated.”

“As long as we believe in Her, the Mistress lives.”

Binet stared at the floor. “I am shamed. Blessed be.”

Dian lay back. “What do you know about this Kobe?”

The older woman frowned. “Since I was brought from the pens, he hasn’t been home. He’s been with the priests studying their ways of war.”

“I pray he refuses me.”

Binet shuddered. “If he won’t take you, the prince will give you to his soldiers or send you to the pens of the Gladius. ‘Tis not a good place to be.”

Dian slid to the edge of the cot. “Hear me. I must escape.” She traced the symbol and watched 

Binet’s eyes widen at the red glow. “Where is the Place of Choosing?”

“North and west in the Shanara Mountains. You do not have the strength to leave this room let alone travel that far.”

“Then help me exercise.”

Binet helped Dian from the cot. For a moment, she felt dizzy. The furniture seemed to tilt. She sucked in a breath and waited for her vision to clear. Then holding Binet’s arm, she took a step. “Tell me how I can leave this place.”

“There is no way. ‘Tis a prison,” Binet said. “The door into the hall leads past the bathing room and into the common room of the inner court. The only way to escape is to be summoned to a man’s bed.”

There must be a way, Dian thought. I won’t remain a prisoner. I won’t fail the Mistress.

For the rest of the day and at regular intervals during the night, she walked about the room and performed exercises to strengthen the muscles grown flaccid from inactivity. Soon after sunrise she wrapped a sheet around herself and ventured from the room. The dimly lit corridor led in but one direction. She passed the arched doorway into the bathing room. As she strode across the stone floor, she heard children’s laughter. The aromas of food made her stomach rumble.

She entered the large room at the end of the hall. Low tables were scattered around the area. Heaps of pillows in many colors brightened the dull brown walls. The stones of the floor were warm and she wondered how they were heated. Children pelted each other with pillows. Their laughter made her smile. Quanta appeared from behind a beaded curtain and clapped her hands. The children dropped to the pillows and bowed their heads. Other women arrived with platters of food and pitchers of fragrant liquid.

The early morning sunlight streamed through narrow windows on one of the side walls. On the other, glass blocks formed a wall and a door opened into a small garden. Though she wore no shoes and the hand of winter chilled the air, Dian stepped outside.

High stone walls enclosed the area. She ran her fingers over the rough surface. If she found no other way, she could climb the wall and creep across the room. First, she’d have to find clothes and boots.

Moon Summoned - Villain - Sargon

Sargon, Gladius for the Lord of Shadows, held the sword he’d created during his initiation as one of the champions. He’d drawn the elements from the earth and forged the sword with the power of his mind. The body of a slave had been used to quench the glowing metal.

As his concentration deepened, the blade glowed with a bloody hue. The muscles of his massive arms and shoulders tensed. Flames rose from the sword and crimson images formed.

“I would see what happens in the nome,” he said.

The first scene showed Lugal and his serpent rod. As he watched his co-ruler’s frustration, Sargon laughed. What had the Cabal so stirred? He acted as though he’d lost something of value. When Sargon tried to mind read Lugal, a barrier slammed shut. No matter, Sargon thought. In time, he would learn. Does the fool think I know nothing of his schemes?

He sent the flames searching for Gamish and watched the Thamaturg destroy another fetch in a frantic search for someone. He also thinks to defeat me, Sargon thought. He will fail for who can stand against fire?

Just as he started to quench the flames, another image appeared. A young woman danced in the fire. Her many braids of silver-blonde hair moved to music he couldn’t hear. She turned to face him and in her eyes, he read a challenge.

Who? Where? Behind her, he caught a glimpse of a winter-touched garden and a brown stone wall. How dare she challenge him?

His hands clenched the sword. His rage grew. Taut muscles spasmed. The flames on the sword lengthened. Fire scorched the walls and set the bedding afire.

Sargon fought his blazing anger. Slowly the flames died. Prince Genrai’s prisoner was indeed the one he sought, the one he needed at his side when he faced his co-rulers. Though she seemed young, she had to be one of the warriors from the Hall of Defense. With this one subject to his command, the others of the Triad would be defeated.

He frowned. Should he warn Kobe of the danger the young woman posed? Too late. Kobe was on his way home. The young man faced a greater trial than Sargon had envisioned. But Kobe wasn’t alone. He bore the sword he’d drawn from the elements. In the making, as a way to keep the young man obedient, Sargon had keyed the weapon to himself.

Thursday - My Heroes, Heroines and Villains - Moon Summoned #MFRWauthor #fantasy

 Moon Summoned _ First Heroine - Ashiera

Twilight darkened the sky before Ashiera found a hiding place in a dark alley doorway. The stench of rotting fish and the brine-laden air made her swallow against the burning fluid that rose in her throat. Rustling noises brought a prayer that none of the alley’s denizens would attack her. She dozed, woke and dozed again. Memories of the past rose in broken fragments, but each time she woke, she found more pieces were joined.

Sieper. Bits of the things she’d heard years ago in the marketplace were remembered. Rumors of his ability to read the weather surfaced. How could he possess such a talent? The Mistress touched women, never men. Did he serve the Lord of Shadows? He’d spoken of ownership and of her as being a reward from the Cabal. Had Sieper been one of the men who had lurked and awaited the arrival of the gray priests?

She sighed. Would she ever regain all the memories of the time before her capture?

She rolled the too long trouser legs and used a scrap of cloth torn from her gown as a belt. The sleeves of the shirt hung well below her hands and she pushed them up. How fortunate she’d been to find Sieper’s clothes on the line. As she’d fled through the alleys, she’d peered into the streets. The few women she’d seen had been escorted by one or even several men.

While she waited for true dark, she fingered the scar on her wrist. Her hand flew to her mouth and she stifled a scream.

An obese man, head shaved and scalp oiled, faced her. He held a metal rod with a serpent curled around the staff. A globe of swirling mist topped the rod. Her body trembled. The evil in the priest’s thoughts nauseated her. The serpent raised its head. The fangs bit into her wrist and sent molten fire through her veins. An endless scream echoed in her head and she sought darkness as she had before.

When Ashiera emerged from the place where night was eternal, a few stars shone in the sky. A pale sliver moon had risen. She struggled to her feet and exercised muscles stiffened by the cramped position.

Flee. Leave the city.

The urgency of the command made her lose all caution. “Who are you?”

The Place of Choosing. You must go there.

“Where is this place?

In the Shanara Mountains.

As she left the wharf area, she slid from shadow to shadow. Now and then she heard footsteps, but whoever walked the streets moved with the same caution she employed. Finally the waterfront lay behind and she strode along a broad avenue where the Seat of Judgment stood behind a high wall. The Seat was no longer a refuge since the gray priests resided there now. Shepas barked warnings. Several times she froze and fought the urge to run and, perhaps draw attention to her flight.

At last, she reached the market near the north gate. Guards in gray uniforms trimmed with waxy yellow marched two by two in front of the gate. Was she trapped? Was there no way out of the city?

First Hero _ Sieper 

A moan of pleasure escaped the lips of the woman named Ashiera. As Sieper found his release, his arms tightened around her. He rolled to his side and held her against his chest. His lips brushed her honey-colored hair. He inhaled the fragrance of the herbs she used as a rinse. As always, her amber eyes were devoid of expression.

Sunshine streamed through the windows of the sleeping chamber, clothing them in colored light. Chips of multi-hued crystals embedded in the headboard of the massive bed splashed bright tints on the sheets.

He stroked her smooth skin. “The Cabal and his mind mages named you as an undead. Thus I claimed you as my reward for their use of my ship for their cargoes.” His jaw clenched for the service hadn’t been a willing gift but one demanded. No man of Keltoi dared to refuse the orders of the priests of the Lord of Shadows.

She pressed her lips against his chest. For years, he’d carried her image in his heart, but he’d never believed she would be his for more than the single night they’d once shared. Since then, his life had changed again and again. From deck hand to officer and then to ship owner.

He thought of the day he and the Wind Skimmer had sailed into Zandara. The holds had been filled with exotic goods from the other nomes and, he’d had hopes of enough profit to outfit a second ship. Alas, those dreams had come to naught. The priests had seized control of Keltoi. Since the defeat of the Mistress, the gray robes and their minions had ruled the nome. Their taxes had eaten most of his profits and for nearly thirteen years he’d sailed at their bidding.

His hands curled into fists. “I’ve worked hard and dreamed of a fleet of ships, but these hopes slip further from my grasp.” He stared into Ashiera’s empty amber eyes. “Why do I tell you these things? Do you even hear me?”

For an instant, he thought he saw a flicker of awareness in her eyes. A foolish thought. Under the Cabal’s torture, her mind had fled.

Gently he stroked her face and traced her lips. Nineteen years ago she’d been his for a night. He’d been the one she’d chosen for her passage from maiden to woman. Their joining, hot and urgent, had created a dream of forever with her.

He caressed her breasts. Her nipples tightened and she moved against him. Though her mind had fled, her body remembered the ways of passion. He wanted to hear his name on her lips, but since the day he’d claimed her from the pens, she hadn’t spoken.

He kissed her. Regret that he’d begun what there wasn’t time to finish filled his voice. “My love, we must leave soon. The Wind Skimmer sails on the evening tide. Until I return you will bide with Maran’s wife.” He pulled her to her feet. “Remember, you are mine.”

Was that a flash of denial he saw in her eyes? Her forehead wrinkled and she opened her mouth. A croaking sound emerged. He waited. Would she speak?

First Villain - Lugal

Lugal, the Cabal, stared into the globe atop the serpent rod and willed the mists to clear and show the past. He never tired of watching the defeat of those who had served the Mistress of the Moons. The battle had depleted his predecessor’s powers and had allowed Lugal to challenge for the rod that marked him as one of the Triad of rulers. The swirling clouds parted to reveal a woman’s face.

A roar of rage rose from his lips. He knew that one. He’d questioned her and watched the serpent animate and mark her with its fangs. Thus, she belonged to the Lord of Shadows. What had gone wrong? Had her flight into darkness nullified the venom? The veins of his neck were engorged with rage. He sought to clear her face from the globe.

“Not so! I won’t have this.”

His jaw clenched and he thought of what he’d seen nearly thirteen years before. The then Cabal and the mind mages had joined the champions of the Gladius and the minions of the Thamaturg. The forces of the Mistress had been defeated. His anger escalated. Something had gone wrong and now, a second eclipse approached.

The globe darkened. The woman’s face vanished. Lugal’s anger erupted.

As though a miniature cyclone entered the room, wind whipped his robe. Papers whirled through the air. The draperies at the windows shredded beneath the storm. The shutters crashed against the wall. Outside the sky darkened. Lightning flashed and crackled. Rain fell in torrents.

Slowly, Lugal’s rage subsided. He lumbered down the hall to the audience chamber of the place that had once been the Seat of Judgment. Upon his entrance, the coterie of first-level mind mages rose. He walked to the dais. As he sat, his robes swirled around his ankles. “The woman. The one who was a seer, Ashiera. Bring her from the pens.” His fleshy fingers tightened around the rod. The snake stirred.

The Right Hand snapped his fingers. Two mages departed the chamber. A short time later, they returned. The master of the pens walked between them.

“Where is she?” Lugal asked.

The pen master knelt on the first step. “Two months ago a sea merchant, one Sieper, came to me. He bore an order from you giving him his choice of women. After he paid the tax, he took her.”

Lugal leaned forward. Why hadn’t the man reported the incident? He curbed the desire to lash the pen master’s mind. He had no time to train another. He turned to the Right Hand. “Send mages and guards to the sea merchant’s house and bring the pair to me.” If she’d slipped from his grasp his plans for gaining ascendancy were ruined.

Four mages marched from the room. Lugal called for food. Women dressed in diaphanous robes of rainbow hues glided across the gray-tinged yellow marble floor. One bore a flagon of wine. Others held platters of fruit, cheese and sweets. Three women played flutes, two plucked lyres and one tapped a hand drum. Half dozen women danced to the music, contorting their bodies into near impossible positions.

Lugal leaned forward. He ran his tongue over his fleshy lips. While sampling succulent bits of pina, manga and quava, he selected the women who would attend him this night. He reached for a wine cup and signaled the servant to pour. He slid his hand beneath her thigh-length robe and kneaded her hip.

Once his appetite for food had been sated, he clasped rung-clad fingers on his obese abdomen. His thoughts centered on his plan to seize control of the priesthood. The Lord of Shadows had no need for swords of fire or noxious and poisonous vapors when he and his mind mages could use the winds to control the people. Lugal wondered why he had to share the rule with Sargon and Gamish.

He nodded. His quest for supremacy had been born in poverty. His skills as a thief had brought him to the attention of the priests and his talent had been revealed. Rapidly he had risen until he’d become the Right Hand of the former Cabal. He would succeed in Keltoi just as he had since entering the service of the Lord of Shadows.

Hours passed before the quartet of mages returned. They bowed and their leader spoke. “The sea merchant’s house is closed and the servants are gone. His ship sailed on last evening’s tide.”

“The woman?”

“She must have gone with him.”

Lugal’s hands clenched. “Send the fastest clipper and an octet of mind mages after him. The woman is mine.” He rose and in a swirl of robes lumbered from the audience chamber.

Friday - My Heroes, Heroines and Villains - Healwoman #MFRWauthor #fantasy

Healwoman _ Hero - Shandor

Shandor warmed his hands at the small fire and studied his companions.  The priest, Thiasi mid Chu, leaned against a rock and sipped the chocha he’d brewed to complete their midday meal.  The firelight caught auburn glints in the man’s brown hair.  Was he from Keltoi?  If so, he was a rarity among the priests.  Men of that nome seldom had traffic with Midran.

The third member of the party met Shandor’s gaze.  Vorgan’s pale hair and deep brown skin marked his heritage from Nilos.  The sneer on his face showed his dislike of Shandor.  Vorgan counted his blood purer because his father was a priest and his mother a concubine.  So often during their years of study, he had called Shandor a half-breed.  The reason lay in Shandor’s Healwoman mother and the five years he had lived with her in Bethsada.

“’Twould be best if you work as a team,” mid Chu said.  “The temple of Midra in Keltoi isn’t an easy one to enter.”

Vorgan rested his hands on his knees.  “Shandor, do you agree to be my partner in this venture?”

“Why not?”  Shandor knew Vorgan had no intention of aiding one he considered a rival.  He never had.  Why would he change his pattern?  Their training in the Gate of the Shadows drew to an end.  Upon completion of this task, they would enter the Gate of the Militos, the final step toward entry into the priesthood.

Mid Chu added wood to the fire.  “Your destination lies about a kil to the north and east.  You must enter the complex, find the chapel and remove an object to prove you have penetrated the inner courts.  Bring your trophy to me for validation.”

“What should we take?” Vorgan asked.

“The choice is yours.  I’ll move the camp.  Once you have the object, you must track me.  When your find is verified, you will return to the Enclave and present the token and trophy to the guard at the gate.  You must arrive before the ending of the lunar of the Frost Moon.”

Shandor looked up.  “Have you ever been to the temple?”

“Twice.”

“Would you share your knowledge?”

The priest nodded.  “Spoken like a true Shadow.  What others know is always of value.”

Vorgan glared.  “I, too, would hear what you know.”

Mid Chu took a stick and made a sketch in the dirt.  “The walls form a triangle.  The temple is in the center.  Against the wall are their eatery, stables, warrior’s dormitories, and some storage sheds.  The priestesses sleep on the second floor of the temple.  There is a forecourt with three doors.  The quickest way to reach the chapel is through the second door.  From the entry hall, pass under the stairs, turn right, then left.  The chapel is at the end of the hall.”

Shandor studied the diagram until he could see the sketch with his eyes closed.

Healwoman - Heroine - Norna

The soft chiming of the night bells roused Norna.  One.  Two.  She slid to the edge of the cot.  She hadn’t meant to sleep.  She had to be far from the temple by morning.  Once she pulled the brown skirt and tunic over her shift, she reached for her pack.  Though her mother had named her a drab, she wouldn’t accept the sentence of eternal servitude.

            Norna hugged herself.  She must be gone before Ulrica fastened the bonding bracelet on her wrist so the prongs pierced her skin.  Removal left scars and anyone she met would know what she had been.

            She added the wooden comb and the woolen stockings she’d washed to the pack.  Near the door, she paused to examine the row of boots.  The soles of hers were thin.  She wasn’t sure how far she had to travel.  With the winter lunars about to begin, she needed sturdy footwear.  One pair was too small.  A second, lined with paca fleece, fit perfectly.  Her brown cloak hung with the others.  The thin wool provided little protection from the icy winds.  She snatched the one that matched the purloined boots and carried it over her arm.

            Norna slipped through the hall and crept down the stairs.  Before leaving the temple, she needed to stop in the chapel and study the map.

            When she entered the triangular room, she dropped the cloak and her pack on one of the wooden benches.  Flickering lights on the altar did little to brighten the gloom.  She saw the mosaic panel on one of the side walls.  After lifting a votive lamp, she moved closer.  She found Keltoi and traced the road from the megara to the temple.  Then she looked for Bethsada, home of the Healwomen and her chosen destination.

            She sounded the names of the places on the map.  There, she thought.  She had to travel south and west to the place of refuge for women.  The distance seemed great but she had no other choice.

            When she returned the votive lamp to the altar, she saw the testing gems.  Each one bore an engraved image from one of the nomes.  With a finger, she touched the firelion of Keltoi.  The red stone glowed.  In turn, she brushed the amber sandcat, the blue water lynx and the white air tigre.  For an instant, each gem glowed.  Curious, she thought, but there was no time to search for a meaning.

            The silver cup caught her attention.  She lifted it and nodded.  Bits broken from the cup could be traded for supplies.  She tucked the cup in her pack and slipped from the chapel.

Healwoman - Villains - Britha and Vorgan

Vorgan rose from his seat at the fire. As he strode toward the trees where he’d hidden his
pack, he glanced over his shoulder. The priest poured water over the burning wood. Shandor
stirred the ashes with a stick. Vorgan smiled. They hadn’t seen him leave. With luck, he’d
reach the temple before dusk.

Join forces. Be a partner. How foolish of mid Chu to propose such a union. Vorgan
would impose his own brand of partnership on Shandor. Let the other aspirant risk his life by
entering the temple. Vorgan planned to find a hiding place and watch. If Shandor succeeded
and returned with a trophy, Vorgan intended to claim it as his own.

This was his chance to gain a victory over his rival. He was tired of always being second
to Shandor. The muscles of Vorgan’s back tensed with memories of the lashings his father had
meted with his flail. As he completed the training with the Tutors, Scribes and Bursars, he had
been second to Shandor’s first. The Scourge Supreme’s flail had been his reward. Vorgan
sucked in a breath. This time, he would be first no matter what he had to do.
When he saw the walls of the temple, the sun had just slid over the horizon. There would
be no moon tonight. He donned his chameleon cloak and found a hiding place in a stand of firas.



Britha paced across the courtyard of the posada. Two days wasted. Two days of
boredom. Two days of assisting Mabe while she treated the commoners. At least the Militos
had left and taken their laughter and joking about her prudishness. They had no idea who she
was or how experienced she was in love play. She hadn’t been about to waste her talents on
common soldiers.

As she peered down the road, she saw a man wearing a gray cloak that changed colors.
He didn’t walk, he swaggered. When he drew closer, she smiled. This man was no commoner
and he wasn’t much older than she was. His ice blond hair hung to his shoulders and his skin
was a deep rich brown, almost the color of chocha. She leaned against the wall.

When he entered the courtyard, his eyes appraised her. She met his gaze and read interest
in his dark eyes. He entered the posada. She followed and stood near the entrance to the
common room. He removed his cloak. Her gaze lingered on his broad shoulders and muscular
chest.

“Publican, a room for the night.”

The burly man bowed. “Your name and reason for traveling?”

“Vorgan, aspirant to the priesthood on a quest for the Gate of the Shadows.” He flipped
the man a gold coin. “This should cover my stay and the things I’ll need when I leave.”

“I’ll have a room prepared and make sure the bathing room is available.” The publican
bustled away.

Britha stepped closer to Vorgan. “Don’t you take a risk by traveling alone?”

He turned. “I’ve no fear. Soon I will be Thiasi mid Vor. Healwoman, what is your
name?”

The timbre of his deep voice sent shivers along hr spine. “Britha, cousin to Bodlesa,
Keltoi of Keltoi.”

His eyes narrowed with interest. “Have dinner with me.”
“I would enjoy that.”
“Give me an hour to get settled.” He raised her hand to his lips and ran his tongue over
the knuckles.
“I’ll be ready...and waiting.” Britha hurried to her room on the woman’s side and opened
her pack. She pulled several vials of skin oil she’d blended. After sniffing each, she chose one
with an earthy spiciness. This Vorgan was delicious. Recalling how her fingers had itched to
stroke his skin brought heat to her lower abdomen. The speculation she’d seen in his eyes when
she had mentioned her cousin made Britha believe she might have found an ally for her own
plans.

She returned to the entrance area and sat on a bench. When he arrived, he held out a
hand and tugged her to her feet. His thumb traced circles on her palm and sent heat spiraling
through her and made her nether lips pulse. The aroma of an herbal soap with a hint of musk
teased her. He escorted her to a table for two.

As he held the chair for her, Mabe entered and took a seat at the long table where she
could observe. A scowl twisted her lips.

Britha ignored the other woman’s reaction. She had a right to accept a man’s invitation.
Until she entered the gates of Bethsada, no one could tell her what to do. Even then, she would
obey only when she must.

Britha leaned forward. “Where are you bound?”

“To the Enclave to present the trophy I acquired.” He grinned and his teeth flashed. “At
the end of Frost Moon, I’ll enter the Gate of the Militos.” He signaled the drab. “A flask of
wine and two dinners.”

Britha smiled. “And after the Militos?”

“The priesthood.” He pressed his knee against hers. “I thought your cousin hated
Healwomen.”

“She does, but she has her reasons for ordering me to join them.”

“I see. And do you have your own plans?”

Britha moistened her lips. She believed she’d found a kindred spirit. “Perhaps.”

He arched a brow. “I believe we have goals that could march in tandem.” He topped her
goblet. “Your aura speaks of great talent.”

She touched her goblet to his. “Why else would I be joining the Healwomen except for
training?” She sipped. A warm glow spread through her body.

“Then after dinner, stroll in the courtyard with me. We can discuss our mutual desires
without an audience.” He glanced toward Mabe. “I must be on the road in the morning. ’Twill
take me more than four sevendays to reach the Enclave.”

Britha glanced at the scowling Mabe. “If I can get away. As you can see, she watches
me.” She lifted her fork. How dare Mabe disapprove? The older woman had spent an evening
with the Militos.

“I’ll assure her there’ll be no more than talk. As an aspirant to the priesthood, I must be
cautious in my dealings with women. An intimate relationship would endanger my chances.”
Britha’s smile faced. His scent, the heat in his eyes had stirred her. She’d been too long
without a man. Who knew how long before she would have another chance?

When they finished the meal, Vorgan rose and went to Mabe. He spoke softly. Mabe
nodded. When he turned and motioned to Britha, his grin was cocky.
As they left the posada, he chuckled. “Your guardian saw no problem with us spending
time together. She is well versed in the customs of the priests. Come, let us explore each other’s
goals and see how we can be of use to each other in the future.” He circled her waist with his
arm.

Britha leaned toward him. “And what are your goals?”

“My father is Scourge Supreme. I will follow him and gain control of the Seven Gates of
Midran.”

She laughed. “When I’m Keltoi of Keltoi, we can unite the clans.”

“How can you expect to have the title? You’re Bodlesa’s cousin, not her daughter.”

“She has but one daughter and she named her misbegotten. Bodlesa avoids her spouse’s
bed. Since she denied Norna, she must name the closest of her unwed female relatives as her
heir.” His eyes narrowed. Britha nodded. “I am that relative.”

He swung her into a secluded niche and pressed her against the wall. “This meeting is
fortunate for us.” He caught her lower lip between his teeth.
Healwoman

Thursday - My Heroes, Heroines and Villains - The Amber Cage #MFRWauthor #fantasyromance

The heroine - Aria

Aria sat in the audience chamber near the dais where a pair of thrones stood. Her father, King Palos, stood to sing the pronouncements for the last case of the day presented for judgment. His magnificent tenor vocalized the decision. She heard a slight waver. She clasped her hands to control the tremors. The end of his time as ruler of Harmony had begun.

She stared around the room. She would never rule alone for though her soprano voice held a rich and extended range she had no skill with composition. Her ability to use musical instruments was average though she excelled in strings. Aria drew a deep breath. She knew where her duty lay. How she wished there would be love in the marriage she must make but she would do her duty to Harmony.

The moment the audience ended her father came to her. He placed his hands on her shoulders. “You 

The sadness in his voice spoke of his need for comfort as well as his gift of the same to her. “I know and I am duty bound.”

The king sighed. “So many generations have passed since the heir to the throne had to wed for duty rather than for love.”

The rich tenor held the birr she’s heard earlier. Soon the entire kingdom would know the king had reached the end of his rule and would become Emeritus.

Aria stepped away. She drew a deep breath. Her answer flowed on pure soprano notes. “Though I yearn for love I will do as I must. I pray a man with a strong voice and talent in the other areas will sit at my side. A man whose melodies will blend with mine.”

Paulus kissed her brow. “You must gather your clothes. The special wardrobe, bed, table and chairs are being carried to the forecourt.” His notes held deep sadness. “I go to fetch the Pipes of Discord.”

“The Pipes. The Pipes of Discord will seal my fate.” Her soprano echoed her father’s emotions.know what lies ahead.”

Aria rubbed her arms. Once her father played the strange instrument she would remain in the amber cage until a man appeared to turn discord into melody. The man who claimed her hand would excel in composition and have a mastery over musical instruments and voice. Hope and fear caused her heart to pound with the booming depth of the sound of a kettle drum.

She gathered simple gowns she could don with no help for she would be alone. When her choices had been made she called the servants. She followed them to the forecourt where they hung the clothes on one side of the wardrobe. The other side was a small room where she could wash, dress and attend to private needs.

Servants brought a bed. Aria stared. Curtains enclosed the space but she was glad she'd packed no nightshifts. Sleeping in her clothes made sense since she would be where she could be seen.

A frown wrinkled her brow. Though she’d read tales of the amber cage she had no idea how food, drink and water would appear. Was magic involved?

Words tumbled in her thoughts. Questions and ponderings that needed music to make them complete. How she wished for the skill to change sad thoughts into a solo. Alas, the music remained trapped between her head and her heart. She placed her lute on the table. The instrument was a necessity. She would need to strum chords for the short recitatives exchanged with her father and the curious who came to view her and the cage. Would the man she would wed arrive soon?

Her father approached. She saw The Pipes of Discord. He held the bag over his shoulder and the mouthpiece beside his cheek. She walked toward him.

“Are you ready?” he sang.

She gulped a breath. “I will miss our quiet times.” Notes of sadness colored her song.

“As I will miss you, my brave daughter. The Academy is prepared to judge those who will try to qualify. Summons have been sent to every corner of the land. Already men flock into town and take a number for their place in the line of aspirants.”

The Hero - Ivor

With a jarring thud, breath escaped Ivor’s lungs with a whoosh. He landed on grass and old leaves. At least he hadn’t banged his head on the gnarled roots of a tree he’d never seen before. Where was he? The question circled in his thoughts. He eased to a sitting position with his back against the massive bole. His gaze swept his surroundings. A clearing in a forest of unfamiliar trees. Some were conifers and others hardwoods. The fullness of the canopy meant the season here was akin to the world on the other side of the amber mist.

A smile threatened to split his dry lips. He was alive and he was free. Andros had the position he’s always wanted. Soft laughter flowed. Being alive wasn’t enough. He needed people to hear his music. Once the gems from the hilt of his sword were gone he had to find a way to earn coins. If he remained where he’d landed only birds and forest creatures would hear all the melodies swirling in his thoughts.

Slowly he pushed to his feet. He bent and grasped the flute lying on the grass near where he’d fallen. He made his way through the forest until he reached a wide path that appeared to begin just yards beyond where he stood. He trudged until the trees thinned.

A faint sound of music caused him to walk faster. He hoped to find an inn where food and drink were served. He was famished and parched. After passing a row of cottages he saw a sign featuring a painted lyre. He pushed open the door. Savory aromas surrounded him. His stomach growled.

A rotund man approached. “Greetings, sir. How can I help you?” He sang the words in a pleasant baritone.

“I’m newly come. I seek food and drink. I don’t have any coins.” Ivor pointed to the gems on his sword. “Would one of these be payment for food and a room?”

The man clasped Ivor’s hand. “Have you no singing voice?” He pointed to the flute. “Are you just familiar with instruments and do not know how to sing?”

Ivor drew a deep breath and let his words flow tenor pure. “My name is Ivor. I sing. I play. I write new melodies and sometimes the words.”

The innkeeper bowed. “I see. I see. Since you are a stranger to the land I will have you stay at my inn. One of the gems will grant you room and board for a month or more. Come and sit. Food and ale you will have.”

Ivor sat at one of the tables and tasted the savory stew. Though the flavors were different from the ones he knew the food tasted delicious and eased his hunger.

As he sipped the ale he heard a lilting soprano singing a song that evoked sadness. “Who is singing?” he caroled.

“The Princess Aria. One day she will be our queen. Have you come to Harmony to enter the competition?” the innkeeper sang.

“What do you mean?”

“Many men with talents musical have come from all corners of the land. To stand a chance to gain her hand only the best will do. The chosen one must excel in vocalizing, instruments and in composition.”

Ivor frowned. “Music seems to be important to the land.”

“It is a most important element. The princess awaits he who can free her from the amber cage.” The innkeeper’s voice rang loud and deep.

“Amber cage?” Was that why he’d been sent here, but he had no desire to rule a land. “I fled my home. My father forced me to give up music. If I desired the rule I could no longer sing or play.”

The innkeeper laughed. “Here in Harmony matters are quite different.”

“What about those who fail?”

“If they have a talent into the Academy they will be accepted.” The man sang. “For those who have high scores in just one area an appointment as Maestro will be made. Then they can either perform or teach. The man or men who excel in all areas will be given a chance to turn the sounds of the Pipes of Discord into melody.”

Ivor slid his fingers along the flute. Though he had no desire to rule if he could find a place in this Academy where he could compose, sing and play he wouldn’t have to wander to pay his way. “Where can I go to learn more?”

The Villain - Odon

Her thoughts turned toward the basso. Odon’s attitude reeked of arrogance and frightened her. Her eyes widened. The barrel-chested man strutted across the lawn.

“How fare thee, fair Aria.”

His deep vocalized greeting brought images of operas where the villain strove to capture the heroine and carry her to his lair. She sought words to respond but none appeared.

He was handsome enough if she liked men with granite carved features, massive shoulders and a permanent sneer. His physique aided the production of notes so deep they sent chills riding her spine.

“I am fine.” The waver in her notes belied her answer.

“I hear eagerness in your voice. You will be pleased to hear I added a second in voice to my first in instruments.” He grasped the bars with meaty fists. “Soon you will be mine. You will be mine, mine, mine.”

If the Goddess Euphonia would hear her prayers he would fail. “I will be yours only if the pipes answer to your touch.”

“How can they not? I am a master extraordinaire of all musical instruments. Under my touch discord will become melody. Harmony is my kingdom. The riches of the land will be mine, mine, mine.”

The last of his low notes wavered in the air. He turned and strolled away.

Tears burned Aria’s eyes. What would she do if he won? One thing became clear. Odon was not a man to take failure well.

Feeling like a caged beast she prowled the cage. How she yearned to leave this confinement but not if Odon mastered the pipes and won. Could Turan, the second of the leading contenders be the one?

Friday -Tricia McGill is Talking About Heroes, Heroines and Villains #MFRWauthor #amwriting

1. What were you in your life before you became a writer? Did this influence your writing?

I was a pattern cutter/designer in the clothing industry (specifically women’s & children’s wear) for all my working life until I retired early due to a back problem. This had no influence on my writing at all, except in so far as once retired I then had the time to concentrate on a long-held desire to write full length novels. And luckily I had a husband who encouraged me to go ahead with my dream.

2. Are you genre specific or general? Why? I don't mean genres like romance, mystery, fantasy etc. There are many subgenres of the above.

No, I have written Time-Travels, Contemporaries, Mainstream, Historical, and my next one out will be a Futuristic. Although warned early on in my writing career that this was not the way to go if I wished to be successful, unfortunately my Muse had other ideas. She has always taken over and insisted I write whatever I fancy tackling at that moment in time, hence the mixture of sub-genres. My books all have a strong romance at their heart though. I could never tackle mystery or horror, but admire writers who do. I’ve written one short horror story and it scared me so much that I can barely bring myself to look at it. I would never sleep at all if I had horror whizzing around in my head instead of romance.

3. Did your reading choices have anything to do with your choice of a genre or genres?

Definitely. I’ve always read Time-Travels, even as a child. I love that magic of passing through dimensions into another time or place. One of the early books I read involved a pony-loving girl (I was horse-mad) who passed into another world every time she went into her pony’s stable—so this love has been with me a long time. And (as mentioned above) I can’t read or watch creepy stuff as it gives me nightmares. I like to inject a touch of humor into my stories and love reading Romance that makes me laugh along with the characters.

4. What's your latest release?

My latest release is Maddie and the Norseman, a Time-Travel. I’ve had this fascination for the Vikings for a long time and so it seemed natural to go back there. Maddie is in England visiting her archaeologist friend. They are about to take part in a re-enactment at the Viking village in York when they are swept back in time to Jorvik, a thriving trading town, as York was in the year 879 AD. Here Maddie meets her dream Viking.

5. What are you working on now?

I’m almost finished re-working Amid the Stars, a futuristic. This book was originally published as Amaryllis and as the title hints is set on a far planet. I thoroughly enjoyed writing this one as it was so much fun to create an alien, especially one who could read minds, and was a terrific lover as well. Not your average ET, my Reve. I could let my imagination go wild on this one as who would challenge me on the facts.

6. Where can we find you?

My web page: www.triciamcgill.com

My Blog: http://triciamg.blogspot.com/

MY Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/authorTriciaMcGill

MY Books We Love page: http://bookswelove.net/authors/mcgill-tricia/