Terah Edun's Blog, page 12

New Series Announcement: CROWN SERVICE

New Series

I am officially announcing the release of the first book in a new series on March 31, 2014.

Crown Service is not a Courtlight series spin-off but it is set in the Algardis Universe. Crown Service is set 200 years in the past during The Initiate Wars. Crown Service is AWESOME.

There will be shenanigans, there will be war, there will be magic and there will be romance. So I would really appreciate all you readers and lovers of Ciardis Weathervane in the Courtlight series, to give Sara Fairchild in the Crown Service series a try.

BLADES OF MAGIC is the first book in this epic new series. Check out the blurb below!

Blurb

It is not a peaceful time in the Algardis Empire. War is raging and seventeen-year-old Sara Fairchild will be right in the middle of it.

She just doesn’t know it yet.

Sara is the daughter of a disgraced imperial commander, executed for desertion. Sara is also the best duelist and hand-to-hand combatant in Sandrin. She lives quietly with the family’s shame but when challenged about her family’s honor, her opponent inevitably loses.

On the night she finds out her father’s true last actions, she takes the Mercenary Guilds’ vows to serve in the emperor’s army. Using her quick wits and fierce fighting skills, she earns a spot in the first division.

There she discovers secrets the mages on both sides would prefer stay hidden. Dark enemies hunt her and soon it’s not just Sara questioning the motivation behind this war.

While fighting mages, blackmailing merchants and discovering new friends, Sara comes across something she’s never had before – passion. The question is – can she fight for her emperor against a mage who has unwittingly claimed her heart?

This is year one of the Initiate Wars. Sara is hoping it doesn’t become the year she dies.

Filed under: Blades of Magic

Seeking FOURTH Beta Reader: Permanent Role

Hello All,

My next manuscript is not ready yet. So why am I putting this call out so early? Because I’m looking for a permanent beta reader to add to my roster. I have three dedicated readers (Sam, Kai and Jason) and I’m looking to add a fourth. Because this needs to be a good fit I’m leaving this post up for submissions through mid-March.

My Beta Readers are very important to me and I trust them with my work. They give me HONEST critiques of the story, characterization and ways to improve. I’m not looking for a grammar editor. Whoever I choose must be able to make time to complete the task, deliver on deadline, use TRACK CHANGES in MSWord and provide honest feedback.

The Qualifications:

- Beta Readers look for: plot holes, inconsistent character development, bad structure and necessary changes.

- Familiarity with my work. If you’ve read all the books even better. But at the very least an enjoyment of epic fantasy and young adult literature.

- Willingness to give honest feedback. I’m not looking for someone who will spare my feelings. You would be expected to give me your honest opinion about what you didn’t like, what you’d prefer to see changed (if anything), and basically just your overall thoughts. I’m also not looking for unwarranted praise. Only your complete honesty can help me improve the story. I want each book to be the best possible story before release.

- Ability to work on a tight deadline. If I send you the manuscript, I need to know that you can get it back to me with your mark-ups within five days.

That’s it. So if you think you’re willing, ready and able to read a manuscript a month (Blades of Magic in March and Sworn To Defiance in April) then send me an email @ terahedun.ya@gmail.com with a note on why you’re interested and your qualifications (i.e Have you beta read before?). Please use the subject line BETA READER.

It’ll take me some time to go through the submissions, so don’t worry if I don’t respond immediately.

Filed under: Sworn To Defiance

Sworn To Secrecy is LIVE (Read the First Two Chapters Now)!!

In the heart of the Imperial Courts, Ciardis Weathervane knows that death is coming for the empire. With her friends by her side and the new triad of Weathervanes, she’s in a race against time to convince the courts of the same.

She must do her best to unite kith, mages, nobles and merchants under one cause – the fight to prevent a war. Soon she is forced to keep a secret that could exonerate her mother of the Empress’s death, and is always one move away from stepping into diplomatic chaos.

Throw in a daemoni prince who is showing interest in the youngest Weathervane, a jealous prince heir, and a irritated dragon with her own designs on Ciardis, and you have an imperial court in turmoil.

This fourth novel continues the story of Ciardis Weathervane from Sworn To Conflict.

Grab it and read it NOW

Chapter 1

There were few things in the world that mystified Ciardis Weathervane more than the Imperial Court of Sandrin. An intricate and multi-layered system with the imperial family at the top, the landed nobles squarely in the middle and the wealthy ton comprising of the merchants, the artists, and the mages at the bottom. If you could call it a bottom. Because nobles could be mages, imperial family members had independent wealth and all of them played their games in pursuit of their own desires. Fidelity, honor, and duty to the land weren’t what drove these courtiers. Pride of place and greed took prominence above all. So landing back at court on the arm of the woman that most everyone wanted dead and a man accused of aiding a serial killer wasn’t her best idea yet.

Her mother and her brother were the two most infamous people at court now, a title Ciardis once held and gladly shed in favor of some other poor souls taking it up. She just wished it were two people other than the only ones left living that shared her last name.

Whispering aloud Ciardis said, “Lillian Weathervane. Caemon Weathervane. Ciardis Weathervane.”

“A toast! To the most intriguing family to grace these courts for the past one hundred years!” said the man who sat to her left.

“To intrigue and schemes!” shouted another gentleman well into his fifth cup of wine.

Lady Lillian graciously nodded her head, “Well, Lord Garven – we wouldn’t want the courts to grow dull, now would we?”

Laughter spread up and down the table as nobles passed along what Lillian had said.

With a smile frozen on her face, Ciardis looked around. It was the night of the emperor’s midnight ball. They had made their grand entrance into the festivities hours earlier. Now they sat at a long banquet table in one of the imperial ballrooms.

Gilded leaf laced the walls in the shape of lilies everywhere she looked, a vaulted ceiling with solid gold chandeliers hung high above them and hundreds of servants dressed in golden brocade flitted up and down either side of the banquet table. Ciardis winced at the decadence as she looked around at the seated court guests. Decadence that rubbed at her the wrong way when she thought of the simple attire of the Panen people of the Ameles Forest or the stark living conditions of the soldiers that served in the northern campaign.

His Imperial Majesty Bastien Athanos Algardis sat at the table’s head. Ciardis took note of his temperament and watched as his mouth thinned with displeasure. At least one person was unhappy that the Weathervane family had returned. As the emperor clenched a fist and slammed it into the table, the laughter around them died out.

Lillian startled at the emperor’s anger. Ciardis didn’t blame her.

Her mother–the woman tried and nearly executed for murdering his wife–the former Empress of Algardis, was sitting directly to his right. Ciardis, further down the table, reached for a crystal goblet of water to quench her sudden thirst.

She desperately wished Prince Heir Sebastian were here. He would be mad as hell that she had left him in the north. But she didn’t care. She’d face his wrath any day over his father’s icy demeanor that sent chills down her spine. Sipping from her water she tried not to make eye contact with anyone, most especially not her mother or her only sibling, Caemon, who sat two seats down from Lillian on the opposite side of the table from Ciardis. It worked for a while. She mostly studied the intricate lace that lay delicately on the top of the table. Looking like an idiot all the while, she had no doubt. Still, in the company surrounding her a safe idiot was better than a dead know-it-all. But when the emperor himself called your name, you answered his query with respect or faced the idea that your head may not be there in the next moment.

To be fair, Ciardis Weathervane had the right to be nervous. She had come to tonight’s gala not knowing what to expect. Uncertain if her mother would be executed on the spot by the emperor himself or thrown in the dungeon to await trial. Whatever was going to happen in her mind, it hadn’t been this. They had been seated so close to the emperor that if Ciardis wanted to, she could have stabbed him.

Not that I want to. Never that, she hastily said in her head with a nervous glance out of the corner of her eye. The man seated to her right and to the emperor’s left was his favorite mind reader. She shivered just thinking about him reading her thoughts. Snapping back into the present, Ciardis turned to answer the emperor’s query.

“Your Majesty,” Ciardis Weathervane said with perfect composure, as if she wasn’t contemplating a thousand ways this night could go wrong and her left hand wasn’t gripping the knife that was cleverly hidden in a pocket of her dress.

The emperor looked directly at her. His eyes were like winter frost, a startling contrast to his son and heir’s forest-green eyes.  His hair was silver gray and white, with the black of a crow’s wings at the top and base. Very distinguished. Very unforgiving.

For a moment he said nothing.

“I was asking, Mistress Weathervane,” the emperor said with a slow and deliberate grace, “if you would like to dance.”

Is he joking? was the first thing that went through Ciardis Weathervane’s mind. Laughter formed next.

But this time laughter didn’t ring out from the courtiers sitting around them. They all sat frozen like rabbits trying to escape a predator by being invisible.

The emperor’s expression didn’t change. She gulped and glanced from his cold eyes to her mother’s. Lillian Weathervane sat still and strong in her chair to the emperor’s right. She looked every inch a noble-born to the imperial court. But more than that, Lillian was a noble mage, born to one of the finest and most honored families in the empire. Wealth, magic, beauty, and grace—Lillian Weathervane exemplified them all. As would Ciardis Weathervane, her only daughter, if she would have been born to a family that assigned her first lady’s maids at age two and placed a diamond collar about her neck at age four. But she hadn’t. Ciardis had grown up in a hovel in the middle of the countryside with barely enough food to eat, cleaning other villagers’ laundry as a way to keep a roof over her head. She didn’t belong here. And the nobles knew it. Unfortunately, her mother, while under suspicion of regicide no less, had no such compunctions about the place of her daughter—or her son.

If anything, Caemon had had it worse than Ciardis. Ciardis momentarily felt more pity for him than she did for herself. He’d grown up a slave to the empire’s will, a living enhancement to any mage that did the bidding of the regiments in the north, all as a punishment for his mother’s indiscretions. Both twins were well aware of how much their mother’s troubled past had cost them; what they disagreed upon was whether it had been worth it. It would, of course, help if their mother would take the time to explain what exactly had happened on that dark and fateful night eighteen years ago.

Then Ciardis’s reverie was broken.

Lillian smiled at the emperor and looked over at Ciardis with a delighted expression. “My dear, what an honor. Of course you would.”

Ciardis’s grim look froze on her face before it could turn into a frown. She’d expected Lillian to step in. To stop this madness. Or at the very least to snap her fingers and dispel this mad dream. But she hadn’t.

Ciardis turned back to the emperor while forcing a rigid smile. “You honor me, Your Imperial Majesty, I would be delighted.”

She felt like a parrot echoing her mother’s command. This wasn’t what she wanted. But then again, she didn’t have much of a choice. This was Lillian’s plan, Lillian’s risk, and it would be Lillian’s triumph. In the week that Ciardis Weathervane had come to know her mother, she had learned one important rule: What Lillian wanted, Lillian got.

A manservant pulled the emperor’s dining chair back from the table. As he stood, the musicians off in the corner began to play a soothing melody with a sonorous mage standing by to accompany them. The emperor gave Ciardis a perfunctory bow and the gentleman seated to her left stood, smoothly placing Ciardis’s hand in the emperor’s, and she got the shivers. The emperor didn’t grip her hand as they swept forward toward the empty dance floor in front of the table, though; instead her sweaty hand rested in his palm. No doubt he noticed.

As they walked side-by-side, she could almost imagine that it was a regular dance. A normal man beside her. But this man was different. He was Sebastian’s father and one of the few people in the empire who had the authority to order her death with a snap of his fingers.

No wonder she couldn’t get her heart to stop beating so quickly.

She heard the shuffle of feet behind her as they finally reached the center of the dance floor. She turned her head slightly to see groups of nobles coming up behind them and streaming past. They gave the emperor and his dancing companion a wide berth. To Ciardis’s consternation, she saw that the noble guests were moving to stand in a broad circle with a large opening in the center. They were going to watch her dance with the emperor. Could this night get any worse?

Yes, it could, she decided privately. She couldn’t help but compare her dove silk gown to the fantastic outfits on the women and men around her. The lord chamberlain had done his best, and with just twenty-four hours’ notice his attire was hard to beat, but even Ciardis could see that her gown was woefully undercut by the elaborate and trendy gowns that clothed the gathered nobles. She shouldn’t have been surprised. This wasn’t an intimate dinner party of friends, after all; it was the most powerful group of people in the empire.

But she didn’t forget. All of this finery and pomp hid a dark side. This was the same group that had stood by while assassins tried to kill their prince heir, the same group that had indirectly sanctioned the murderous intent of Sebastian’s aunt and uncle, princess heir Marissa and the duke of Cinnis, and what was more, this group would do everything in its power to bring the Weathervane family down. They might not have seen Ciardis alone as a threat, but she knew, just as they did, that more than one Weathervane meant that the family had risen again, shaking up the structure of the imperial court and posing a threat to all those who stood in their way.

Ciardis would have been happy to tell them that she wanted no part in their downfall, didn’t want their money, didn’t want their land, and didn’t want their titles. But from the looks on their faces, they wouldn’t hesitate to kill her while she tried to explain. Ciardis saw her mother’s proud face in the group, and she knew with dread that what she wanted at that moment—to build an alliance and halt the threat of an advancing god of destruction, the blutgott—wasn’t on her mother’s agenda. Blood would be shed soon, and Lillian Weathervane would be the one wielding the knife.

Chapter 2

As they entered into the center of the ballroom, Ciardis glanced up at the dome—wide-open with a high-vaulted ceiling and diamonds set into the raised panels high above their heads. She wondered where Thanar, Inga and Kane had disappeared to.

No time to worry about them. I’m sure they’re fine and hopefully, having more luck than I at acquiring court allies, she thought to herself.

She knew that she had to convince the emperor not to kill her mother while explaining the threat the coming blutgott posed. It was difficult to imagine a more important conversation in her life, not only because of the topics that needed to be addressed, but quite frankly because one didn’t just dance with the Emperor of Algardis. If he didn’t want her dead, then he definitely wanted something from her. The emperor slowed and smoothly angled his grip on her hand to turn her towards him in an arc, causing her dress to sweep out elegantly and her other hand to meet his when she faced him.

His eyes were cold and his mouth pressed into a thin line as he smoothly eased her into a waltz.

“Mistress Weathervane.”

“Your Imperial Majesty.” Sweat beaded on her spine. She was grateful, for once, that she’d gone with a high-backed dress this evening.

“My dear Lady Weathervane, it has been a long time since you graced these courts. Months, even.”

“You honor me, sire. I hadn’t thought you noticed my presence.” Her tone dipped in surprise.

“Of course I did. Your absence has brought peace to a chaotic court. I would say you weren’t gone long enough,” he said. “By letting you live and leave court to journey to the Ameles Forest, I did you a favor. You were not supposed to come back.”

“I never meant to cause your court chaos, Sire. Merely to right injustice and defend myself while doing it. I feared you were unaware of the duke of Cinnis’s actions as well as the princess heir’s corrupt use of magic.”

“You were wrong, my dear. Nothing happens at court without my knowledge. Nothing.”

The emperor continued, “I was well aware of the attempts on your life. I wondered how such a young, stupid, and impulsive Weathervane could have such a disastrous effect on the duke of Cinnis, my cousin, that he would risk my ire by trying to claim your life. Then I remember your mother and I wonder no longer.”

Ciardis paled. “But Your Imperial Majesty—”

He cut her off, “You disrupted my court, had my son accuse me of attempting to kill him, and murdered my sister all in one season.”

I wouldn’t have had to do any of those things, if you had done your job, was what she wanted to snap.

Instead she said, “I won’t apologize for those actions or any others. I saved Sebastian’s life. I saved my own life. And your sister was a bitch.”

The Emperor froze. Ciardis gripped his shoulder tighter and pushed him back a step so that they didn’t miss a turn in their dance.

Ciardis continued, “Perhaps I could have said that in a more pleasant manner. I’m sorry. Being around all of those soldiers in the north has changed me.”

She stared into the emperor’s eyes with stubbornness in her gaze. When he said nothing but continued to dance, she turn slightly to eye the ring of guards interspersed among the guests. They all carried swords. Any one of them could put a steel blade through her back. You never knew what the emperor was thinking. She was hoping that her last living breath wasn’t going to be spent on a dance floor.

“I see the rumors about you are true. You’re worse than your mother ever was.”

The emperor tightened his grip on her waist as they danced under the watchful eyes of his nobles. “But know this Lady Weathervane, there is one reason that you’re still alive. My son. Sebastian has intervened on your behalf more times than I can count, but he isn’t here now.”

“Then I assume you plan to take advantage of his absence? Not only to rid yourself of my mother but me as well?”

“Get rid of you? No, child. I will do no such thing,” said the emperor in a voice as cold as winter, “Not because I don’t desire with every fiber of my being to eliminate you and your family where they stand, Mistress Weathervane. But because I rule with my head and not my heart. Your unique abilities are needed for your empire and for my people.”

Ciardis felt relief and anger wash over her. He needed her. Didn’t they all? But she recognized a way out when she saw one. “How may I serve you?”

The emperor pursed his lips tightly and the hand that gripped her waist tightened perceptibly. “Do not be so quick to acquiesce, Weathervane. Many of my subjects will tell you that death is better than what I’m going to ask you to do.”

“And what is that, Your Imperial Majesty?”

“You will find out what my dear sister was doing in the Ameles Forest. What she planned and how she meant to accomplish it.”

Ciardis blinked. “Surely there are more qualified individuals for such a task, sire? Your spymasters, perhaps?”

The emperor gave a short and caustic bark of laughter. “My lead spymaster is the one most involved. You see, Weathervane, my sister had a network of allies. Allies I’m just uncovering. Yet you have a knack for drawing to light things that are best left in the darkness. You will use that talent for my bidding.”

Left unspoken was the fact that she had uncovered his sister’s plot to drain his son and true heir of magic from the moment Sebastian had turned five. The Princess Heir Marissa of Algardis had been a snake in the grass and ingeniously ordered her men to tie the spell that took Sebastian’s power from him to a locket that she presented to her brother. All the while hiding her true intentions—to shore up the emperor’s gifts until Sebastian had failed his inheritance tests and was forced to be removed from the line of succession—leaving Marissa the one and only heir to the emperor, whom she had assuredly would have killed the month the announcement of succession was made.

Ciardis’s lips twitched as she fought not to frown. She tried once more to convince him. “But the Ameles Forest, sire? Surely you know it was the Shadowwalker who committed the crimes of murdering hundreds of kith and humans there. Not the princess heir.”

The emperor’s eyes sharpened as his tone descended. “I’ve been told of your disrespect for authority, so I will say this only once: If you ever contradict me again, I will have your head removed.”

Ciardis pursed her lips. There was nothing to say to that. If she knew one thing about the emperor, it was this: He never misspoke a threat.

He smoothed his expression and loosened the tight grip on her waist as he said in a calmer tone, “I care not for the kith and I am well aware that my sister had no connections to those murders. What concerns me is the project she had hidden in the center of the forest—undetectable by my mages and therefore unknown to me until the Lord Meres Kinsight’s inspection.”

With his callous words, Ciardis flashed back to her last conversation with Thanar, winged Prince of the Daemoni race. Thanar had practically spit in her face as he’d said, “You think we don’t know how you treat the kith of your own empire? You segregate them on little pieces of land when they used to rule this entire empire. They are nothing more than the dirt beneath your feet.”

Even then her attempt to defend the empire’s actions had been weak. Now she had no defense to stand upon.

Of course you don’t, Ciardis thought miserably of the emperor. Thanar was right, the kith aren’t even people to the rest of the empire.

The emperor continued, oblivious to the passage of her thoughts, “The princess heir had a purpose in going to that forest. One that was unfilled. It is your job to find out what. I don’t care how. If you don’t accomplish this within the week, not only will your mother be executed, but so will your brother.”

The air around them chilled. Through the whalebone corset and the fabric at her waist Ciardis felt cold reverberate from the emperor’s chest. He turned his distant silver eyes down to her as he said, “You are my subject, Ciardis Weathervane. Just as all of those present in this ballroom and throughout my empire are. Even you are not beyond my powers. You will obey my commands. Because those who don’t obey fall before my blade.”

Ciardis licked her dry lips as she fought not to push the emperor back from her and draw the blade that she had hidden in her dress. She wanted to stab him where he stood. She was tired of threats. Tired of an imperial family that did nothing but serve their own needs. But then she thought of her family. The only family she had left. She pushed down her anger.

Her brow furrowed, she said. “I will find what you seek, sire.”

“Very good,” responded His Imperial Majesty. “I will have sent to your residence two of the princess heir’s personal effects. You may find them useful in this endeavor.”

She nodded her head stiffly. “Thank you, sire.”

To the surrounding nobles it looked as if the Lady Weathervane had pulled a coup at the height of this season’s most prestigious ball. A dance with the Emperor. A private conversation with the man with the power to give them anything – wealth, land, and titles. Little did they know – Ciardis only wanted one thing. Freedom.

The emperor paused for a second and then leaned over to whisper in her ear, “Here is why many of my subjects would prefer death over this assignment: the two objects I will send you are the only ones that I have not sent to my own mages. My dear sister kept them close to her. They may be the keys to her secrets. But others want them as well. Others who have stripped mages’ souls for the knowledge contained within them. I hope you don’t become one of those unfortunate few.”

As he finished, he looked into her eyes. “I only to tell you this to warn you of what you’re walking into. You will also need the daemoni prince to stay on your side, just as my sister did in Ameles. But I would caution you to place your trust in very few.”

Surprise rocketed through Ciardis. “Of course, Your Imperial Majesty.”

“And one other thing, Weathervane. You will mention this to no one. Not your family. Not my son.”

“Now, do smile,” he said with a sharp smile of his own. “We can’t have my courtiers thinking you aren’t enjoying yourself. You’re the talk of the ball.”

He twisted his arm out and Ciardis watched as faces flew by and blurred together as she turned and turned on the arm of the empire’s most powerful man. Her hand outstretched as if greeting the people around her. Whispers flew by and heads turned in comment as she gracefully folded back into the emperor’s arms.  He was right. She was the talk of the ball.

She gathered her anger to her as she faced the man who held her family’s life in his hands. Her golden Weathervane eyes met his silver visage. Her eyes flamed with fiery retribution. His eyes returned her ire with cool calculation.

“There’s something I need from you, Sire,” she said firmly, “My mother has only come to court to clear her name. Whatever you think of me, she has had nothing to do with—”

“All will be forgiven,” he interrupted, “If you do what I’ve asked. If you don’t fail me, that is. Otherwise judgment for her actions, and judgment for the death of my wife, will fall from her peers. The magistrate’s council will convene. Blood price will be called.”

She moved like a doll in his arms. Her mother’s life and her own in his hands.

“Find out about the princess heir, Weathervane. That is your task. Report to me when it is done.”

He swept her out once more in a graceful arc, while the gathered nobles waited in a circle around them. Lillian’s eyes caught Ciardis’s, and there was triumph in them. Her mother thought the emperor was dancing with her as a sign of his favor.

She couldn’t have been more wrong.

Filed under: Sworn To Secrecy

48-Hour Sale for Sworn To Secrecy and Announcement of New Series

The official release date for Sworn To Secrecy (Courtlight Book #4) is February 28th.

Special Sale:

There will be a 48-hour super sale where Book Four in the Courtlight series will be offered for $0.99c during the first 48 hours of release! That could mean anytime between the 25th and 28th. Sign-up for the new release list today to receive an email the minute it’s live and in addition get the full cover reveal for the first book in a new series! At the end of the 48-hour sale, Sworn To Secrecy will go to back to its regular price of $3.99. Don’t miss out!

Announcement of New Series

I won’t say much about this new series except that it’s Young Adult and High Fantasy as well as set in the same world as Courtlight. You’ll be able to see the cover in my Sworn To Secrecy email just before February 28th. Sign-up today and get your sneak peek!

Courtlight Book #5 Release Date

For anyone wondering about the release date of Book #5, I am hoping to have it ready for release in March 2014. The title for this book will also be revealed in the newsletter.

A huge thank you to my beta readers!

A very special thank you to all the beta readers who read and returned feedback for Sworn To Secrecy. I had to do some major revisions which couldn’t have been done without you!

ARC Readers

Yes, this could be you! You can now sign-up to receive a free review copy of my latest books here! Only requirement is the ability to read and review on Amazon.com.

Filed under: Sworn To Secrecy

Sneak Peek Teasers: SWORN TO SECRECY (Courtlight #4)

Hello readers – The release date for Courtlight #4, Sworn To Secrecy is officially February 28, 2014!

What’s going to happen? Well, some awesome sword fights will be in play. We’ve got a new adversary or two with wicked cool powers. And some pretty cool kisses are definitely detailed out.

Not convinced? Read this awesome blurb and get to know what you’re in for:

In the heart of the Imperial Courts, Ciardis Weathervane knows that death is coming for the empire. With her friends by her side and the new triad of Weathervanes, she’s in a race against time to convince the courts of the same.

She must do her best to unite kith, mages, nobles and merchants under one cause – the fight to prevent a war. Soon she is forced to keep a secret that could exonerate her mother of the Empress’s death, and is always one move away from stepping into diplomatic chaos.

Throw in a Daemoni Prince who is showing interest in the youngest Weathervane, a jealous Prince Heir, and a irritated dragon with her own designs on Ciardis, and you have an Imperial Court in turmoil.

This fourth novel continues the story of Ciardis Weathervane from Sworn To Conflict.

TEASER TIME

Starting Saturday, February 1st, I will be posting long and detailed excerpts from Sworn To Secrecy on my Facebook page on every 5th day!

Like the page to see them first! www.facebook.com/TerahEdunAuthor

February 1st

February 5th

February 10th

February 15th

Filed under: Sworn To Secrecy

Seeking BETA READERS for Sworn To Secrecy

New call out for beta readers for Book Four! If you’re on my permanent list of beta readers (Sam, Kai & Jo), I have you on speed-dial. If you’ve beta read for me before and would like to start up again then read on.

SWORN TO SECRECY is almost done and I would love reader feedback on the plot arc and character development. You can be any age, any experience level – all I ask is that you be enthusiastic about fantasy books. If you haven’t done this before – don’t worry about it. I’m looking for feedback as detailed as you want (i.e. Terah you missed a semicolon in the second line of paragraph four on page 87) or as broad as you want (i.e. I really didn’t like that Steve character – he’s too angry – change him ASAP).

If you’ve read Books One – Three in the Courtlight series, you’ll have a much easier time beta reading for me as well.

Extra special kudos if you can get your comments back to me on my birthday – January 29, 2014!

What would be expected of you as a beta reader?


You would be emailed the manuscript/Word doc on Thurs, Jan 23rd, and you’d have approximately nine days to provide feedback (I’d need it back by Sat, Feb. 1st).  Please only enter if you’re available during this timeframe.


You would be expected to give me your honest opinion about what you didn’t like, what you’d prefer to see changed (if anything), and basically just your overall thoughts. I’m not looking for unwarranted praise. Only your complete honesty can help me improve the story. Don’t worry about hurting my feelings.


Please agree to not share the story with anyone else.

If you are interested in reading Sworn To Secrecy and providing feedback which will help me revise, please answer the following questions in the comment section of this blog post (people reading this on Goodreads will need to visit my actual blog to comment – comments made on Goodreads will not be considered):

1) Your first name
2) Your email address
3) Is this your first time doing a beta read or book critique?
4) Favorite authors (just so I can get a feel for your general likes)
5) Have you read any of my previous books?

I will post my list of beta readers on Thurs, Jan 23rd, so check back then!!!  Thanks so much!!!
Filed under: Sworn To Secrecy

Sworn To Secrecy Cover Reveal

Hey everyone! I’m so excited for this day! Wanna know why? Because it’s COVER REVEAL DAY for SECRECY!

Sworn To Secrecy releases on February 28, 2014 on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, iTunes and Kobo.

Are you ready? I know I am! So without further ado…here it is!

In the heart of the Imperial Courts, Ciardis Weathervane knows that death is coming for the empire. With her friends by her side and the new triad of Weathervanes, she’s in a race against time to convince the courts of the same.

She must do her best to unite kith, mages, nobles and merchants under one cause – the fight to prevent a war. Soon she is forced to keep a secret that could exonerate her mother of the Empress’s death, and is always one move away from stepping into diplomatic chaos.

Throw in a Daemoni Prince who is showing interest in the youngest Weathervane, a jealous Prince Heir, and a irritated dragon with her own designs on Ciardis, and you have an Imperial Court in turmoil.

This fourth novel continues the story of Ciardis Weathervane from Sworn To Conflict.

Filed under: Sworn To Secrecy

SWORN TO SECRECY

In the heart of the Imperial Courts, Ciardis Weathervane knows that death is coming for the empire. With her friends by her side and the new triad of Weathervanes, she’s in a race against time to convince the courts of the same.

She must do her best to unite kith, mages, nobles and merchants under one cause – the fight to prevent a war. Soon she is forced to keep a secret that could exonerate her mother of the Empress’s death, and is always one move away from stepping into diplomatic chaos.

Throw in a Daemoni Prince who is showing interest in the youngest Weathervane, a jealous Prince Heir, and a irritated dragon with her own designs on Ciardis, and you have an Imperial Court in turmoil.

This fourth novel continues the story of Ciardis Weathervane from Sworn To Conflict.

SWORN TO SECRECY releases on February 28, 2014

on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, iTunes, Kobo and Google Play!

Join my NEW RELEASE mailing list for the announcement

Filed under: Sworn To Secrecy

It’s coming – Exclusive Excerpt for Sworn To Secrecy + Cover Reveal

Yes, Sworn To Secrecy is coming on February 28, 2014.

Are you on my new release mailing list? Well, you should be! Because I’m leaking the first few paragraphs of the new book there on Wednesday! THIS Wednesday.

Not only will newsletter subscribers get the excerpt, but they’ll also get to see the cover reveal FIRST. Because it won’t be up on the website until Friday.

If you’re curious about my upcoming releases and news as well as winning a newsletter gift card, sign up today!

Filed under: Sworn To Secrecy

Sworn To Raise is Free on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Google Play, iTunes, Kobo and Smashwords!

HUGE ANNOUNCEMENT

Sworn To Raise is now FREE to everyone who wants to start the Courtlight series! So tell you friends who just got a new Kindle, a new Nook, a new iPad, a new Nexus or a new Kobo – here’s your chance to read an amazing high fantasy series at no cost!

And check the end credits of the book for a special reader’s only promotion!

Merry Christmas to you and your families!

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Sworn To Raise by Terah Edun (Book 1)

Genre: Young Adult, Fantasy, Coming Of Age



Summary:

Seventeen-year-old Ciardis has grown up in poverty, a cleaner in a small vale on the outskirts of the empire. But beneath her empire’s seemingly idyllic surface lies a hidden secret. Whispers of an inept crown Prince are growing ever louder—intensified by the five year anniversary of the soulbond initiations.

Amidst scandalous whispers, Ciardis finds herself chosen to train for the Companion’s Guild. She leaves her home and sets off on a personal journey to become a Court Companion. A position she’d never thought possible for a lowly servant to obtain, she must prove that she has the skills to attract a Patron.

But she must master those skills quickly. If the legends are true, only Ciardis can harness the power to raise a Prince in an Imperial Court sworn to bring him down.

This sensational series debut melds intricate storylines with remarkable characters and unforgettable magic. Sworn To Raise is ideal for fans of Kristin Cashore, Michelle Sagara, and Maria Snyder.

Connect With Terah: Author Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads

Chapter 1

Ciardis Vane watched the townspeople jeering as the local Gardis strapped the highwayman into the stocks. Frowning Ciardis wormed her way closer to the front of the crowd, straining to get a peek at the criminal. She felt no pity for the condemned man; he would die tonight, regardless of her feelings. The nightwolves were already pacing, their shadowed forms just visible in the dense tree line, waiting for darkness to fall.

Without the protection of the house wards, the highwayman would be defenseless locked in the stocks. I wish I could say it will be a quick death, she thought with clinical detachment, but they’ll probably go for his guts first. The man deserved no less than death in any case; he had done nothing but steal from—and sometimes kill—those who traveled the Imperial coach roads. “Stand and deliver,” indeed!

Ciardis pushed back her heavy brown curls with a sun-bronzed hand. Turning slightly to the side she whispered about his crime with the other washer maids who’d come to see the spectacle. Suddenly, she felt a sharp pinch on her wrist. Turning to see who had interrupted her entertainment, she looked over and frowned down at the younger woman who now stood by her side.

Wringing her hands anxiously, Margaret looked up at Ciardis and gave a quick jerk of her head to the side to indicate they should speak outside the crowd. “You’ll want to hear this firsthand, Ciardis,” Margaret said with urgency.

“All right, all right,” Ciardis muttered as they made their way out of the crowd and down to the washer station with a few other girls trailing behind. The slight blonde woman who scurried next to her was a great source of village gossip, and Ciardis knew that whatever she had to say would be worth leaving the spectacle in the midst of the judge’s punishment. To Ciardis, a good piece of gossip was as welcome as spun gold…usually.

When they’d walked far enough from the crowds Margaret was quick to tell Ciardis the news that she’d heard from the weaver’s daughter who’d heard it in the apothecary the day before.

Practically bursting with the pent up the news Mags bounced on the balls of her feet as she said, “Fervis and the caravan girl…they’re together Ciardis.”

“They’re together?” Ciardis said with disgust, “No, he’s with me.”

Mags shook her whole head, curls bouncing every which way, in denial.

“They were seen, getting in a big fight and then…” said Mags.

“So?” interrupted Ciardis in disdain, “That means nothing.”

Patiently the girl continued, ignoring the interruption, “And then the girl’s father came and threatened to kill Fervis. One thing led to another and now they’re bound.”

This bit of news hit Ciardis with all the weight of a lead brick.

“Bound?” questioned Ciardis unsteadily. Bound was very different from together. Bound meant married, bound meant forever. Now she felt like throwing up.

“Yeah,” said Mags softly, “I mean…I thought you’d want to know…first.”

At this point Ciardis was staring off in the distance – hand pressed flat against her stomach as if by holding it she could keep her stomach from plummeting in despair.

Minutes later the town bell rang signaling that the highwayman had been sentenced and imprisoned. Everyone would be going back to work now.

Mind numb Ciardis trailed behind Mags, trying to comprehend how her life had just upended.

When she got back to the wash room Ciardis bent over the soapy tub, mind numb as her hands worked mechanically to scrub the red jerkin. Margaret knelt across from her, happily chattering away like a magpie. According to Mags, the miller’s son had gotten some passing girl with child. The news had spread like wildfire after the fool had stumbled into the local apothecary’s asking for honey’s brew. Every woman in town knew that there was only one use for honey’s brew, and it wasn’t to sweeten tongues.

If the girl had been an orphan, like Ciardis, her swelling belly wouldn’t have mattered much. She would have borne the brunt of the town’s gossip for the winter months and gone home with a second mouth to feed after the snows melted. But the girl’s father was the caravan driver for the only merchant willing to brave the fierce winds of Vaneis in the winter. He’d heard someone’s tongue wagging and had confronted the girl before the honey’s brew had passed her lips.

Frantic once he’d heard the truth from his daughter’s lips, he had gone in search of Fervis Miller. Whatever words had passed between the caravan driver and Fervis over his daughter’s ‘condition’ had been enough to get the message across. Fervis, bruises already darkening on his skin, had shakily gotten down on one knee before five witnesses and asked the girl for her hand in marriage.

The wedding was to take place on the dawn of the Sabbath – just three days hence.

Ciardis frowned contemplating going to their wedding – she would have to. Weddings were one of the few forms of entertainment in town, if she didn’t go it would definitely take notice. She didn’t care. Honestly, she didn’t. If that idiot couldn’t keep his stick in his pants, then he didn’t deserve to wear her ring. Wringing out the last jerkin, she twisted it like she was wringing a stubborn turkey’s neck. Or, better yet, Fervis Miller’s.

She wiped her hands with a drying cloth, careful to prod Mags for more tidbits at the right intervals. She had finished washing the jerkins and Mags was done with the skirts she was scrubbing. They put them out to dry before the oven fires and then moved on to fold the huge stacks of tunics and pack them in the caravan trunks with dried sprigs of fresh mint.  Ciardis thought about the stolen moments she’d had with the miller’s son. In the summer, they’d picnicked in the meadows, and throughout mid-winter he’d held her waist as they flew across the ice of the secluded mountain ponds. Memories of the soft touches exchanged and the ardor in his voice when he’d promised that he’d petition for her vows were still imprinted upon her mind. He’d promised over and over that he’d convince his mother somehow that Ciardis, orphan girl with skin the color of pale pecans and unruly chestnut curls, was the young woman that should be her daughter-in-law.

Ha! Last spring, she and Fervis had even hatched a plan for her to bump into his mother as she left morning prayers at the church. They’d painstakingly played out the scene while laying on fresh hay in the cobbler’s bard. When the day to bump into his mother had come Ciardis had tried to strike up a conversation. But from the moment the conversation began, it was clear from the rancor in the woman’s tone and the disparaging look in her eyes that she considered her son’s marriage prospects, far above the town’s orphaned girl.

Guess she was right, Ciardis thought with irony, He’s going to get a caravan merchant’s daughter who lifts her skirts for the first young man she sees instead.

Frustrated and tired, Ciardis threw her basket of clothes down on the floor with such force that she startled Margaret right out of her monologue. “What’s with you?” Mags asked, dark eyes wide.

“Nothing, nothing,” muttered Ciardis. “There was a ground bug on the floor—just wanted to get it before it escaped.”

Inside she was seething, calling Fervis every dirty name she knew. She’d wasted two whole years on that idiot. Two years of listening to his constant whining about grain prices and the boring bakery gossip in his uncle’s shop.

She’d set her sights on him at age fifteen. He had been boring then, and he was boring now, but she could live with boring. What she couldn’t live with were the pangs of hunger after an evening with no meals, a month without meat, or the backbreaking work of being a temporary field hand. With a man like Fervis, set with a steady income from being in a miller’s family, Ciardis could have a life of leisure…or close to it. But now thanks to that lout she was ruined. Here she was, seventeen with no nest egg or dowry to buy a husband, and she’d already snubbed every boy within twenty miles to show Fervis her devotion. Her devotion, for crying out loud! Fat lot of good it did her now.

After finishing the last load of laundry, she eased out of the hot sauna room and into the outer chamber where Sarah, the dour head cleaner and accountant, kept the tally chips. The tally chips were small marks color coded for a task. A red chip for hard to clean garments like the red leather jerkins, a blue chip for folding a basket, a green chip for pressing and ironing. She counted hers as she walked down the hallway to Sarah’s office. Today she’d washed three loads by hand and pressed and packed a further two. That was just enough to get her a decent tally at the end of two weeks’ work. She had to pay the innkeeper soon.

Handing the chips over to Sarah, she waited impatiently in front of the scarred wooden desk. The woman took forever with anything, particularly when that anything involved money. She squeezed the last shilling out of every washing cloth and piece of soap she bought.

At last, Sarah handed over her payment and she went home. She even had a few extra coins, enough for a small bowl of soup with bread—huzzah! Since she could pay in cash she didn’t have to worry about adding tonight’s dinner to her tab, then. The innkeeper was a pleasant man, but he always charged interest to the month’s tab when she did that.

She was freezing by the time she stepped into the warm inn kitchen, even though she was bundled in three layers, with woolen pants on under her skirts. Rushing to the fire, she warmed her chafed hands over the flames.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the only male waiter for the inn rush in through the swinging panel doors from the tavern. From the noise that wafted in behind Kelly the place was packed with journeymen. Must be that caravan that’s on its way out, she thought as she nibbled on a cracker she’d filched from a side table on her way into the kitchen.

Kelly began to hurry out just as fast carrying a platter filled with hot mutton and an empty kettle which swung erratically from his hand. She ducked to dodge the errant kettle and said irritably, “Watch where you’re going, Kelly, you big lout! You almost brained me.” Ciardis pushed her scarf back off her silky mane as she straightened up, scowling.

“Sorry, lass,” Kelly said, already rushing through the swinging panels and into the tavern. Noise flooded through the open doorway. Must be a large crowd tonight, Ciardis mused.

“Hey, lass!” said the rotund cook, “Good to see you.” He leaned close, smelling heavily of savory spices, and said in a low voice, “Mind your way when you head back to your room, hear? Lots of knights about, and not all of ‘em Gardis, if you catch my meaning.”

She caught his meaning, all right. “Thanks for the warning,” she said gravely. Grabbing two pieces of fresh baked bread and a bowl for soup, she had the tavern maid dish out the soup under the watchful eye of the cook. Paying for the meal she grabbed a spoon and left the kitchen.

She decided to take the back stairs with her lentil soup and bread. She navigated the creaky flight with her satchel digging into her back, balancing her plate in both hands. She ate as soon as she’d opened the door, ducked into the stuffy darkness of her room, and then eased down on the lumpy bed.

Ciardis went to sleep not long afterward, still furious about the miller’s son, but a tiny twinge of self-doubt also fluttering in her belly.

            At half past midnight, a sound broke through Ciardis’s dreams and sent her lurching out of bed. She’d heard the light creak of the stairs outside her door. Frowning, she threw off the heavy covers and grabbed the knife she’d hidden between the mattress and wall. Must be a drunken soldier.

Her room was barely big enough to stand in, with a sloped ceiling and a mattress that took up most of the floor. If a soldier cornered her in here, there was no way she’d be able to fight back…except for the six inches of steel blade in her hand. Best to avoid the situation altogether. Thinking of her options she knew the roof washer was her only bet. It’d be tricky to maneuver to get up there while holding something but Ciardis quickly decided that she’d rather have the knife in her hand than in her belt. She quickly grabbed the rickety stool in the corner and pushed off the accumulated clothes to the floor. Standing on it with the knife in her right hand, she reached up and pushed at a panel in the ceiling, easing it up and placing it next to the opening. She gripped the edge of the ceiling with both hands and swung herself up and over, then slipped the panel back into place. Now she stood in the small crawl space between the room and the roof. It was insulated as well as it could be but the ceiling still leaked warmth in deep winter. Even with the leak, at times like this, she was glad she’d never gotten the panel fixed. It made her claustrophobic to think of being stuck in that little closet of a room with no fresh air. Careful to move silently she grabbed the tarp that latched over a hole in the roof that had never been fixed and eased out the nails that held in place. Leaving the ceiling panel loose and tarp in place had numerous downsides…but in this case the advantage of escaping her room more than outweighed them.

As soon as she wiggled through the small opening, the bitterly cold wind chilled her to the bone, even though she was still dressed in layers. Her fingers began to feel numb. Trying to evade the chill she hastily rearranged the tarp and fisted her hands in order to pull back her trailing fingers as far as she could into her sleeves. Unfortunately that wasn’t going to work for very long. She’d need to use her hands at some point.

It must be close to the freezing point, she thought while her teeth chattered. Her little room had a heat spell on it to ward off the worst of the cold, but out here she’d freeze to death if she wasn’t careful. She couldn’t hear anyone in the hallway now, but that meant nothing. Making a quick decision, she headed across the roof toward the stables. It wasn’t the best place to sleep, but it was better than being raped, and Robe would look after her there.

The steep roof had peaks that rose up into the night sky and furrows that dipped sharply to help the accumulated snow slide off more quickly. That also meant there were a lot of snowdrifts at the wall base and, even worse, ice. She cursed under her breath as she struggled to maintain her footing. She saw the irony in escaping a drunken soldier only to bash her brains out on the ice below.

Upon reaching the roof’s far edge, she carefully descended an ice-slick ladder to the walkway that connected the inn’s second floor to the barn’s upper level, where they kept the pegasus stalls. Hurrying now, she soon reached the welcome warmth of the stables. As soon as she stepped inside, the straw dust hit her allergy-sensitive nose and made her sneeze. Those allergies, especially in the spring with the dust and dandruff, were a dangerous combination. Consequentially, at any time of year, but particularly in high pollen season, the stables represented her refuge of last resort.

Ignoring her discomfort for the moment, she headed for the opposite end of the row of stalls, where the stable manager’s quarters lay. That was where Robe lived. He was a man twice her age, but with the mind of someone much younger. He loved animals, and they loved him. She shook her head silently, shivering. It was a simple-minded mentality but worked well for Robe and the stable owner. Garth had decided that a man with half the intellect of the others and a childlike enjoyment of the animals would be less likely to run off. He’d given Robe a home at the stables, steady meals and a few coins once a month for his services in training and caring for the pegasi. In Robe’s eyes it was a good trade: his skills in the stable for a home. In Ciardis’s view he’d been robbed of a proper income. But at the same time, she’d hate to think of what might happen to him on the streets.

Easing the door open, she sidled into the office area, which Robe used as his “pretty things” room. It was half-filled with rocks he’d picked up, shirts he refused to wear but loved to look at, and bright scraps of cloth pinned to the walls. Sometimes he kept colicky foals in here, too. Once he’d kept a baby snow leopard for a month—even built a nest for it. How Robe had managed to catch the dangerous creature, even a baby snow leopard had claws that rivaled the knife in her hand, and convinced the pegasi to keep his secret she would never know, but once Garth, the innkeeper, found out about the cub, all hell broke loose. It had taken some convincing, but Robe had handed the cub over to the innkeeper. Garth had told Robe he was sending it to a sanctuary, but really the innkeeper had sold it to a noble idiot who liked to keep dangerous pets.

Ciardis went over to the wall nook where Robe kept a couch. Carefully putting aside a pile of brightly colored shirts, she slid down onto the couch and curled up for an uneventful night’s rest. She woke to find a bowl of cooling porridge on the floor near her dangling arm and pale sunlight shining down on her face from the narrow window. With a wry smile, she reached for the mashed mix of raisins, milk, and oats. She was pretty sure it was the same thing the pegasi ate. Only Robe would give this to a person and consider it a proper meal for a human.

After eating and visiting the bathhouse, she headed out for another day of drudgery at the washer station. Occasionally she would pull her arm over her head and the muscles along her shoulder to stretch her arm as she walked. When she arrived, she saw a lady with stylishly pale hair standing inside Sarah’s office, arguing with the old washerwoman. Ciardis stopped in the hallway and listened to the conversation. The woman was shaking a knight’s long coat in her hand. It was a beautifully vibrant red color – like the plumage of a dusk hen in spring. Ciardis also knew it was soft as butter because she’d handled ten jerkins of similar make yesterday afternoon. Listening to the conversation she heard the woman demand, “What will it take? Twenty shillings? Forty?”

What will what take? Ciardis wondered with wide eyes. Whatever it was, this woman was offering two months’ salary for it.

Sarah shook her head slowly. “No. Ya can’t have my recipe.”

Recipe? What are they talking about? Realizing what it would look like if they caught her loitering in the hall, she contrived to look busy by shifting around and sorting the piles of clothes stacked against the far wall. Mags appeared out of nowhere with a curious look on her face, but Ciardis quickly waved her away from the pile of clothes she was sorting. She didn’t want to finish before the conversation in Sarah’s office was over.  Mags walked away in a huff.

“Really, woman,” came the exasperated lady’s reply from Sarah’s office. “I just need it for the red costumes. Is it really so costly for you?”

Furiously thinking, the pieces to the puzzle clicked together for Ciardis. Red was a princely dye, one of the few that took skill to harvest and prepare. Ciardis was known across the Vale for her red dye which she made from a combination of mountain plants and one elusive ingredient that Sarah had been trying to drag out of her for years. Ciardis refused to give up her secret ingredient, Mountain Moon Leaf, and Sarah hadn’t been able to devise a substitute. More than anything Sarah loved her money and she knew that as long as she had access to Ciardis’s dye she could charge a hefty fee to individuals interested in getting their garments cleaned in a way that wouldn’t harm the bright red fabrics, which was why Ciardis had been in charge of all the red jerkins yesterday.

Sarah had warned her not to let the colors run, but quite frankly, she knew Ciardis’s cleaning mixtures were the best. Sarah was just lucky that Ciardis couldn’t venture out into her own laundry business; the Vale customer base wasn’t big enough for more than one.

“That old harpy,” Ciardis muttered after listening to the conversation. Sarah was trying to sell her dye for quite a bit of money and Ciardis was quite sure Sarah had no intention of sharing in the profits either.

As the pale-haired lady stalked out, Ciardis hurried out the side door and around to the front of the building to catch up with her. “Ma’am! Ma’am!” called Ciardis. When the lady stopped, she rushed up to her and blurted, “If it’s the mix for the red you want, I can sell it to you.”

“My, what a pretty thing you are,” said the lady as she eyed the girl. She reached forward to touch the loose strands of hair that had escaped from Ciardis’s bun. She looked curiously at the girl’s bronze skin and almond-shaped golden eyes. “How…unique,” she said. “Now, what was it you were saying?”

“The mix,” said Ciardis softly. “The soap mix, ma’am. It’s my recipe.” She raised her chin firmly and said, “It’s yours for thirty-five shillings.”

The lady’s dark brown eyes flashed in amusement as they met Ciardis’s golden ones. Ciardis grimaced, but held her ground, the woman probably knew Ciardis couldn’t make more than fifteen shillings in a month, twenty if she were lucky. “Well,” the lady said slowly, “I suppose I could agree to that. Bring the mix to my room this evening. I’m staying at the Green Inn.”

Nodding, Ciardis backed away respectfully. She was already late for her day’s work. Whirling around she ran down the hallway to the back of the building to the washer station to start her tasks. She’d been lucky that Sarah hadn’t come outside while they were talking.

Hours later while fixing the lye for the next morning’s batches, she overheard a bunch of the other girls talking about the mysterious guest from the South. Ciardis carried the large wooden tub filled with the ingredients for the lye outside. Mixing it there was always preferable, even in the cold. The stench would have been horrible in the little mixing room.

Lugging it outside she went to the area just behind the steam room filled with charcoal burners. Setting the heavy tub down with a heavy thud, she reached for the solution strapped to her in a round gourd. As she stirred it in a clockwise motion the voices drifted over.

Their conversation was just high enough for Ciardis to overhear from the other side of the steam room while the wall between them hid her from view.

“Did you see her?” one said in an excited whisper that Ciardis thought was Marianne, the candle maker’s daughter.

“She has to be a—” said another voice, but Ciardis couldn’t hear the last word.

Has to be a what?  She pushed her ear against the wall in frustration, trying to catch as much of the conversation as possible.

A third girl, Rosie, squealed, “Oh my lord. It’s not possible. Why would one of those people come here? It’s unheard of for them to come so far out—we’re practically in the middle of nowhere, and at the very edge of the Algardis Empire.”

“Who knows,” sniffed Marianne with disdain, “But I won’t be having anything to do with her. You know what they say: anything goes in Sandrin. I mean, those type of people are abominations. Companions – they’re nothing but women with loose morals.”

“Of course; I wouldn’t either,” Rosie stammered. “I just meant that it’s exciting to see one so far from Court.”

The second voice chimed in derisively, but Ciardis couldn’t make out the words. Ciardis recognized the voice as belonging to Amanda. After a moment, the girls rounded the corner and saw Ciardis bent over the mixing basin. When Amanda saw Ciardis, she raised an eyebrow and quickly shushed her companions, “Hush, both of you.”

The three town girls gave Ciardis ice-cold smiles, polite but distant while their eyes flitted over her faded dress, which had large spots where the color had faded away.

She returned their greeting and turned away, knowing that they had nothing to share with her. Even though she put on a brave face, she was wishing all the while that she had the courage to ask about the strange woman in their small vale. She wondered who the woman was, where she was from – could it really be Sandrin, and why she was here in Vaneis.

That evening, Ciardis gathered her last pound of precious mix for cleaning red dyed cloth and leathers. Carefully weighing it she put it on a small scale and used a stone weight as a countermeasure. One pound exactly. Satisfied Ciardis headed for the Green Inn. There were three inns in town – the one Ciardis stayed in which doubled as a pegasi way station, and another which was a rundown shack with two rooms managed by an old crone and her son. The third inn, the Green Inn, was the one that the rich guests, like the caravan leader, always used. Looking around the main tavern Ciardis made a beeline for Mary after realizing she had no idea where the lady was staying. Mary was the head waitress and one of the few people whom she considered a friend.  Tonight was busy – Mary had to continuously jump up to grab the beer and meals ordered by the men cramming the room. After a few quick words and directions from Mary who remembered the woman from her first day at the inn, Ciardis headed up to Room Three on the bottom floor. She knocked firmly on the door.

It hadn’t even been latched. It eased open with a creak.

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Filed under: Sworn To Raise