THQ – Chapter Five

A Queen’s Secret

Tarron
Castle Kontar
Eseran Province, Goshalion

“Alright, we’re out here in the middle of the practice field,” Jaxxan said, pointing to the expanse of the Kontar Military Institute’s practice grounds. The cadets were all in the combat halls, and others in their quarters looking forward to the evening’s festivities. Now that a marshal was named, and a border adjutant, the rest of the cadets would be lobbying for posts in the castle. Few would want to leave the castle with Tarron.

No, those who would be posted with Tarron to the border would be the unwanted and the unwilling.

“Make me understand why you would allow yourself to get booted out of this place?” Jaxxan insisted.

“It’s easy,” Tarron said, rolling his shoulders to ease the lingering tension in his muscles. “I want to live longer.”

“Is it so bad with Lazuli?” Jaxxan asked, shaking his head. “I thought Lord Jesah had your back.”

“Until he doesn’t,” Tarron said, looking beyond the green grass grounds to the castle built with white stone in the east of the institute.

“I don’t understand these things. I must be stupid,” Jaxxan said, his voice full of regret.

Tarron could not blame him. After all, Jaxxan grew up in the loving care of two parents. His wealthy father was a merchant. He provided everything Jaxxan needed, and his mother showered him with all her love. Jaxxan could not understand the work it took to survive in Castle Kontar.

“Anath is Lazuli’s mother. She thinks of the heir to Castle Kontar in everything she does. She resents anything I do that makes me stand out,” Tarron said, hoping to share some of the burden plaguing him. “I can only suppress my determination to win for so long. Lazuli can only suppress his rage with me for being better for so long. We’ve tried to be civil with each other for twenty-three years. I graduated a year earlier, in the same year as my older brother. He’s not happy. I don’t think we can stand each other any longer. If I stay, he’ll find a way to end me.”

“Brutal,” Jaxxan said, wiping a hand down his face. He studied Tarron’s face for a moment, then shrugged. “Then, go pack up. I’ll hurry home today and skip the festivities. I have many people to say goodbye to. The Hodari border is not two days away, but a week and a half. I’m not returning soon so I have to do the rounds.”

“You don’t have to go with me,” Tarron said, holding his friend’s gaze. “You can stay. Your father will buy you a space in the castle if you want.”

“Who will watch out for you if I stay?” Jaxxan asked with a wink. He squeezed Tarron’s right shoulder and shrugged. “You’re not getting rid of me so easily. Go shower. I don’t think you can escape the party in the castle. Before that, I need you to know that I will go wherever you go. Whatever plans you’re making, make sure they include me next to you. I’m your best friend, Tarron. You will not leave me behind. Promise me.”

Tarron smiled at Jaxxan’s loyal devotion. In all his time here at Castle Kontar, Jaxxan’s friendship was the only thing he owned, the one thing that belonged to him.

“I promise, Jaxxan.”

“Good.”

“Okay, then see you at the departing assembly in the courtyard tomorrow morning,” Tarron said.

“In the morning,” Jaxxan said with a nod. He grinned at Tarron, then skipped away, heading in the direction of the exit gates.

Tarron watched his best friend leave for a minute longer, then headed to the white stone castle.

Tarron smirked and looked back one last time at Jaxxan’s retreating figure. Despite his strange life in this castle, he seemed to have found a great ally in Jax. Their friendship was solid, without a hint of betrayal. Betrayal was too common within Castle Kontar walls. It was surprising to meet someone willing to show trust, and willing to give trust.

Tarron entered the castle in a hurry. He took the stairs to the second floor where his room was situated in a corner room. Lazuli was on the opposite end of the second floor. His rooms were an entire wing. They could never compare.

Tarron entered his quarters happy to see there was no one waiting inside. He never kept anything of sentimental value in his quarters. Anath watched them too closely. She wanted to know his relationships, and how they could be used to maintain the status quo. He had run into a maid searching through his things more than once in the name of cleaning. He learned not to ask. He learned to live with the invasion.

Glancing at the cut on his left arm, Tarron decided a shower would help with the healing. The wound was not the first on his body. His back had plenty of cuts left there by Lazuli.

Tarron was eternally grateful that they were not blood-related. When he was young, it had hurt him to be the adopted child while Lazuli was the blood-related son of their parents. But, in time, as Lord Jesah molded Lazuli into a despicable thing, he grew grateful for the distinction.

Tarron crossed the large expanse of his sparse bedroom. The room had high ceilings, the numerous windows showed off Castle Kontar’s front lawn. Burgundy curtains woven from the finest silk in the empire adorned the windows. His bed was wide enough to accommodate three, the curtains mounted on the four posters a sheer red. They came in handy on muggy nights, keeping away blood-sucking bugs.

The closet taking up the wall by the door was filled with his military clothing.

There were few casual pieces, gifted to him by Jaxxan or his mentor, Master Daae. However, anything else in his closet was formal and commissioned by Anath, the Lady of Castle Kontar. She had a standard for the members of the family. She made sure Jaxxan’s style remained rigid and military. The colors of his clothes were dark with only some burgundy in the adornments. The burgundy was a color Castle Kontar used on everything, from beddings to napkins and carpets. Tarron assumed Anath considered him part of the furniture and dressed him as such.

Lazuli’s wardrobe was different from his. Where his clothes were dark, and forbidding, Lazuli’s was cheerful. Anath dressed him like a glorified prince. Light and cheerful colors for a dark, dark-minded boy.

Shaking his head, Tarron headed to the shower. The one luxury he both loved and hated in this castle. He loved it because there was nothing more comforting than a shower after a bout in the combat hall or a fight with Lazuli. He hated the showers in Castle Kontar because they were decadent.

Over the past fifteen years, water has become a scarce resource. To run showers at Castle Kontar, letting precious water run with such luxury while others struggled to gain a drop to live…well, it was the best example of Lord Jesah Kontar’s rule.

Tarron showered fast, making sure to clean everything that mattered. He washed his braided hair and added sweet-scented herbs because Anath would comment if he did not. She liked everything at Castle Kontar to have a wonderful scent, as though it would cover up the darkness hidden within the walls.

Shaking his head, Tarron left the shower stall smelling like sandalwood and frankincense. He paused at the bathroom vanity to shave using the solar-powered shaver one of their ancestors created centuries ago. The gadget fitted into the palm of his hand. He ran it over his chin and jaw and fine blades got rid of his five o’clock shadow. He sunk the blades into the cleansing solution waiting in a small dish on the sink counter and returned the shaver to its charger. The maids who checked his room would clean out the solution later.

Tarron picked up the solar-battery-powered toothbrush next to the shaver and cleaned his teeth. The taste of mint, sage, and a hint of the chemicals synthesized in the Bura labs filled his mouth. The toothbrush worked at cleaning out the day’s staleness. Once again, Tarron turned on the tap and rinsed his mouth in the white ceramic sink with a heavy heart. He returned the toothbrush to its charger and stared into the large mirror mounted over the sink counter.

He was tall at six foot two. The constant training had turned him into a career soldier. Tarron stood tall, shoulders squared, no slouching. His body was sculpted with muscle. His brown skin was now dotted with dark scars from various accidents and encounters with Lazuli’s blades, daggers, and Anath’s whips. His face was pleasing enough. Jaxxan called his looks a catastrophe to all women who dared fall for his devilish smile. A catastrophe because Tarron was married to his career in the Bura Army.

Tarron smiled at the memory, as he touched his clean-shaven jaw, testing the smoothness. He was not sure about marriage to his military career, but his dedication to passing his final trial had a lot to do with escaping this cold castle.

Tarron moved to a gadget mounted on the wall near the door. Its surface was pale gray, shaped like a beautiful smooth egg mounted on the wall. Tarron bent his head under the wide vent of the pale gray egg and the warm suction vent activated. His long braids were sucked into the vent, the heat drying out the excess water from the shower. The heat would kill any bags and smoothen any kinks in his hair if it were loose. The treatment lasted five seconds, and the vent went silent when Tarron’s hair was dry.

Satisfied that he was clean and relatively dry, Tarron left the privacy of the bathroom and went to the closet. He pulled on his underwear, comfortable cotton briefs. Then, he wore his formal clothing. Dark blue trousers went on first. A soft burgundy sleeveless shirt with no buttons, but a V-neck opening. Then, he took up a dark blue medium-length structured coat embroidered with burgundy bands on his wrists and shoulders. The gold buttons were the only bright colors on the jacket. He wore his socks and pulled on shined black leather boots to match the outfit.

He picked out a gold round clip from his closet and gathered his long dark braids into a tight ponytail. He used the round clip to hold the ponytail, using a thick long pin to hold the clip in place. The pin was designed to turn into a weapon if he needed it.

Once dressed, Tarron reached for a dark leather bag in the back of the closet and prepared to pack. A knock came on his door and he only spared one glance as it opened to admit his mentor, Master Daae.

“There is the Border Adjutant,” Master Daae said, moving to sit on the edge of his bed.

Master Daae was a lecturer at the institute. He taught mathematics and economics. However, to Tarron, he was a political strategist. Tarron was sure that he would be dead if it were not for Master Daae’s advice.

“I saw your final fight with Lazuli,” Master Daae said, his tone lazy, no sense of admiration in his tone. They both knew that the last fight had been a joke.

Tarron chuckled as he studied the clothes hanging on the racks in his closet.

“Don’t bother with that,” Master Daae said. “You can use my attendant to pack it all up. This way you won’t worry about Anath’s ladies meddling with your things.”

Tarron sighed in relief and returned the bag to a shelf. He wanted to leave the castle, but packing was not his strongest skill.

“Thank you, Master Daae,” Tarron said, closing the closet doors. He adjusted his cuffs as he faced his teacher.

Master Daae got up, gave him a once over, and then moved to the windows showing off the front lawn.

Tarron moved to stand next to him. He folded his hands at the back, legs at ease.

“You and I once stood here when you were young,” Master Daae said. “You were eight or nine. Lazuli and his friends bullied you to tears. Your cheeks were swollen thanks to their pinching. You were ready to run away from this castle.”

Tarron chuckled at the memory. He was not sure where he would have reached had he run away. What was clear then, at only eight years old, was that the only way to save himself was to leave Castle Kontar.

“You caught me in the stables and brought me back,” Tarron said, remembering how angry he had been with Master Daae. “You promised to be my friend.”

“You managed to make another one on your own,” Master Daae said, smiling at him.

The sunlight was fading. The solar lights in Tarron’s room turned on adjusting to the natural light in the room. It was neither bright nor dark, creating the perfect setting for a reflective conversation.

“For the longest time, I thought you asked Jax to be my friend,” Tarron said.

“He’s too afraid of me,” Master Daae said, shaking his head. “He sees me and runs away like a little puppy.”

Tarron chuckled and took in a deep breath.

“What are your thoughts now that you’ve become the Border Adjutant?” Master Daae asked.

Tarron stared out the windows and for the first time did not worry about who overheard this conversation. He was leaving in the morning. Anath could eavesdrop all she wanted, there was nothing that could change the outcome of the final.

“First, I need to find my footing at the border,” Tarron said. “Who knows what I’ll find there. I’ll probably spend the first few moon cycles finding a loyal team.”

“Good plan,” Master Daae said. “After, will you start looking for the queen’s secret?”

Tarron bit his bottom lip, then glanced at the closed door. He started to speak, but Master Daae held up his right hand and showed him a small gray stick. The gray stick had a yellow light at the top. It blinked yellow for a moment, then turned blue.

“One of the students in engineering made me this,” Master Daae said, placing the little gadget on the small table by the window. “It’s perfect for private conversations. It makes a bubble of sorts around us. You don’t have to worry about anyone eavesdropping.”

“Can I borrow it?” Tarron asked. “You get the best stuff from the engineering nerds.”

Master Daae chuckled and pulled out a smaller one from his pocket. He held it out to Tarron with a wink.

“This is your present for achieving your goal,” Master Daae said when Tarron took it.

Tarron smiled wide, a burst of happiness blooming. He placed the thin gray stick into his jacket pocket and fought the urge to hug Master Daae.

“Thank you, Master,” Tarron said instead, his tone dignified.

“Now, answer my question. Do you still think the Airi Queen has a secret she has not shared with Lord Jesah?”

Tarron glanced at Master Daae and smiled.

“You’ve encouraged this crazy speculation of mine for over a decade. I’m twenty-three now, Master. I’ve gained quite a bit of knowledge these past ten years. Did you never think that thirteen-year-old speculation might be wrong?”

“It could be wrong,” Master Daae said, his gaze on the lovely horizon where the sun was fading away into the ether, ushering in the night. “It could be right.”

“Is the Airi Clan’s Queen still in Goshalion Mountain?” Tarron asked, studying his mentor.

“Yes. She is still held in captivity,” Daae said. “Jesah has her hidden somewhere in the depths of Goshalion Mountain. No one in the Council of Seven has seen her for twenty years.”

“What about her child?” Tarron asked. “Do you think Jesah has found her?”

“I don’t think so. Jesah is not one to keep such news quiet. Besides, no one knows what gender the child was,” Daae said. “There are rumors that she got a daughter. The Airi people in the mines may make up this myth for hope. No one knows the truth of the matter. Some say she had a son, which would mean the legacy of the next Airi Chief remains unfulfilled, but an army can be amassed under his banner. These are also feared to be rumors created by the hope of the Airi people slaving in the harsh Bura mines.”

“Do you think this lack of knowledge is why the waters are receding from the rivers?” Tarron asked. “I’ve watched our people scramble to fill up their jars and containers. My uncle will not acknowledge it but the water scarcity is growing, Master Daae. What else can we do to resolve a looming water crisis?”

“The Azure Fountain on Goshalion Mountain has always provided fresh water to the realm. A member of the Airi Clan sustains the fountain,” Daae said, his tone thoughtful. “Now that we’ve enslaved them, none of us understand how they managed to keep the fountain rising so high and strong. Perhaps we deserve the water scarcity.”

Tarron frowned at Master Daae’s observation.

The lack of water scared him. He could not imagine what would happen to all their people if they did not have clean water to sustain life. It was equally disturbing to place the fate of all the people of Goshalion on one clan. Surely, the waters should be independent.

“Can I ask you a question, Master Daae?”

“You’ve always asked,” Master Daae said with a small smile. “I’ve never refused to answer.”

Tarron smiled and nodded.

***

Daae studied the tall Tarron standing next to him for a moment. He almost could not reconcile this Tarron with the short boy who could barely reach his hip at eight years old. Children did grow up too fast. At twenty-three, Tarron was full of confidence, and despite the many crisis moments on his way, he was healthy.

It was gratifying to see him grow up.

Tarron’s clothes fit him to perfection. His clothes were made with fine fabric, as no son of the lord of the castle could look shabby. However, under his neat jacket, Daae knew the boy carried numerous scars. All the young men in the castle who trained in Lord Jesah’s army had scars. They were taught the meaning of pain and fighting with swords and knives from a young age. They learned their skills using painful unforgettable methods.

Still, Tarron had grown into a composed child, with hardly a hint of annoyance at the mistreatment he faced at the hands of his trainers and his so-called family.

“Why must the Bura control the other provinces in the realm?” Tarron asked. “Our warriors patrol the other provinces and keep the clans in check. The history books from the previous one hundred cycles say the clans have always lived unpoliced. Free to do as they see fit with their lands, and their lives. The Airi Clan was quite inclusive. So, why must the Bura now take on the role of oppressing?”

Daae stared out into the castle grounds, his heartbeat racing with excitement at Tarron’s question. It was a treasonous question. If Lord Jesah heard Tarron ask it, the boy would be punished. He would be stripped of his new position as Border Adjutant and returned to the institute to train again. Treasonous or not, an answer needed to be given for the sake of the future.

“The Bura have spread their wings to the entire realm because of greed and entitlement. It was our skill that built the trains, and the carriages that promoted transportation. We have forged metal and shaped it into farming tools, gadgets, and gears, and made machines that have bettered people’s lives. So, we feel entitled to say how people should live their lives.”

“Is it right?” Tarron asked, looking at Daae with a clear gaze.

Daae felt his heart shift, feeling hope bloom at the moment. He was hopeful that his answer would make Tarron choose a different path, making him the catalyst to a revolution.

Had Lazuli asked this same question, Daae was obligated to peddle Jesah’s teachings. However, Tarron was different. He was also smart enough not to share what he heard from Daae with Jesah.

“It is not right to oppress the clans,” Daae said. “The realm should live in freedom. The people should be able to choose for themselves how they want to live. The Bura are meddling where they should not.”

“So, what is the right solution?” Tarron asked.

“Restore the rightful Queen to tend to the Azure Fountain and restart the order of marriage with the clans into the Airi Clan. This would be the perfect solution.”

“It is not an ideal solution,” Tarron said, his tone thoughtful. “Lord Jesah wants to gain even more power. If it were possible, he would be rid of the Council of Seven. He would marry Queen Asha if he could, but she already has a husband. Although, moral dilemmas have never been a problem for Lord Jesah.”

“Why would you say that Tarron?”

“Because Lord Jesah even dares to take over my father’s wife while my father lays in his bed ill. If Jesah can lay with Anath, nothing is stopping him from going after Asha, Queen of the Airi.”

“Asha has her code,” Daae said with confidence. “Wherever she is, she would never bend to Jesah’s will.”

“Perhaps her unbending is the only thing that is saving this realm from descending into a meltdown. She is keeping us from annihilation,” Tarron said, then smiled meeting Daae’s gaze. “So, if she is so strong-willed, why did she allow herself to be captured by my crazy uncle?”

Daae studied Tarron’s gaze and for the first time felt as though the student had surpassed the master. Tarron seemed to have uncovered a hidden secret.

“Why do you think she allowed herself to be captured?” Daae asked, wondering why he had never thought to wonder.

The Airi Queen was not a cotton ball. She ran the council of seven with strength, not overbearing but enough to keep everyone in check.

Tarron stood staring out at the grounds for three minutes, deep in thought then shrugged.

“I’ve thought about it for a long time. Curiously, Lord Jesah would keep her alive this long. Why has he been unable to take over the mountain as he wanted? She kept something from him. Something that makes the water flow. The order of succession in Goshalion Mountain. The Airi Queen must have a secret,” Tarron said. “A queen like her would not have been taken down without a plan.”

“Why would you say that?”

“She was a good queen,” Tarron said. “The realm was at peace. She was also at her weakest point. Lord Jesah invaded the Airi Clan while she was pregnant. However, Lord Jesah has never found the child she gave birth to. He sent the Hodari King to the flatland mines along with the Airi Clan warriors but kept the queen locked away. She will not reveal where her child is and has hidden the gender. It is a mystery, a queen’s secret.”

Daae chuckled.

“You intend to uncover the queen’s secret?” Daae guessed.

“I would want to meet her first to ask her how she has managed to keep such an important secret for so long. A secret that started two years after I was born. She has kept it for twenty years, and may do so for many more if needed.”

“What a peculiar thing to say,” Daae said, smiling at Tarron’s mind. “You understand that you cannot discuss this topic with Lord Jesah, or his nephew, Lazuli.”

“You forget Lady Anath,” Tarron said, his voice serious. “She is more dangerous than Lazuli. She is banking on Lord Jesah making her the Queen of Goshalion.”

“Tarron, you need to be careful.”

“I have been,” Tarron said. “Thank you so much for always entertaining my thoughts, Master Daae. It is thanks to you that I have reached this moment.”

“I’m happy to answer your questions, Border Adjutant. What do you plan to do now that you’re leaving Castle Kontar?”

Tarron stared out the windows for a moment longer, then shook his head.

“Perhaps I’ll start searching for the Airi Queen’s secret,” Tarron said with a chuckle. “Mostly, I’ll do my best to enjoy life beyond this gilded cage.”

“Lord Jesah has noticed your intelligence,” Daae said, feeling compelled to remind Tarron that he was not a simple pawn on the chessboard. “He will want to keep you. He values people with a good head on their shoulders. He will not want to lose you to the outside. Castle Kontar is fighting for the chance to be recognized at the same level as the Airi Clan’s Kezana House. To do that, he needs to collect smart minds, not petty ones like Lazuli.”

“What would your suggestion be?” Tarron asked.

“Bid your time,” Daae said. “Do not make any big moves at the border. If it is possible, let him forget your brilliance.”

“That will be difficult at the start,” Tarron said. “He’ll be watching to see what I do at the border.”

“Let him,” Daae said. “Be the Border Adjutant, as needed, but always remember your goals.”

Tarron nodded and turned to look at Daae.

“Why do you support my strange ideas?” Tarron asked.

Daae smiled and reached for the gadget on the small table. He stared at the blue light for a moment longer.

“I once hoped to save the Airi Queen twenty years ago. By the time I realized what Jesah was planning, it was too late to save her clan. If you managed to do it in my stead,” Daae said, holding Tarron’s gaze. “I would feel relieved to see the realm back at peace. I’m rooting for you, Tarron. I cannot wait to discover what you accomplish.”

“If I live long enough,” Tarron said.

Daae held his response because Tarron was rooted in the present.

Jesah would murder Tarron should he discover Tarron’s plans.

Daae gave Tarron an understanding nod and turned off the gadget, putting it away right on time. One of Anath’s ladies came to get Tarron for their formal meal.

“Take care of yourself out there,” Daae said as Tarron turned to leave.

“Thank you, Master Daae.”

Tarron left his quarters, the lady following behind him, and Daae was left watching the quiet front lawn. He worried life in the castle was going to get more exhausting.

Lazuli as Marshal was like putting a tiger in charge of the sheep. Lazuli was his uncle’s protégé in every way.

Perhaps he too hoped that Tarron was right about his wild speculation.

Tarron’s origin always made him wonder. Daae frowned. Tarron’s roots remained unknown although they seemed noble. The old Lord Kontar would probably know who Tarron’s true parents were.

Daae wondered what would happen if he tried to find Tarron’s birth parents.

Daae scoffed.

Now, what would Lord Jesah do with such a treasonous thought?

*****

Chapter Four | Table of Contents | Chapter Six

THQ – Chapter Four

Pity is Painful

The Kinga Farm stood in the middle of a forest in the hills found in the Mount Kenya region. Outsiders often could not find the road leading to the farm amid the heavy tree coverage. It was different for Muruthi Kinga. He belonged here. The farm remembered him, and he never took any wrong turn on his way home. Asu had always admired the ease with which Muruthi always managed to know when to make the right turn to reach their grandmother’s farm.

As Muruthi’s car paused at the front gate, Asu stared at the massive white bougainvillea growing over the gate pillars. The bougainvillea bush was trimmed, the gates newly painted blue, but the shapes on the gate…Asu swallowed back her gasp. The shapes on the gate looked like the ones in the pictures from the diary. Her heart sped up with excitement at the possibility.

What a good mystery it would be to solve, Asu smiled.

Her grandmother’s farm was very old. It certainly had the potential to hold a centuries-long history. She had no time to linger on the possibilities. Her father parked the car in the large front yard in front of the two-story farmhouse her grandmother called home. Everyone who lived in the large house called the matriarch of the Kinga family ‘Grandmother Siti’.

When Muruthi parked the car, grandmother came out of the main house looking healthy, not a day over sixty-five, even though she was well into her seventies. Grandmother Siti smiled wide and clapped her hands with joy when Hera leaned out the window to wave at her.

Asu watched as Hera opened the front passenger door and went running straight into her grandmother’s wide-open arms.

Muruthi lingered in the driver’s seat, retrieving an envelope from the glove compartment. Asu assumed it was full of money. Muruthi always brought his mother money to help manage the massive farm.

Muruthi looked back and his brows rose in surprise when he saw Asu still sitting in the back.

“You can run out to hug your Grandma Siti too,” Muruthi said, studying her with keen dark brown eyes.

“Let Hera do it,” Asu said, shifting her gaze to watch her grandmother and Hera hugging outside. Grandmother Siti was smiling wide as she listened to Hera greet her and ask about her recent days. “Hera’s hugs are the best.”

“You hold yourself back,” Muruthi said, his tone gentle. “Why?”

Asu met his gaze and shrugged.

“Is it because of your Mom?” Muruthi asked, a frown creasing his forehead. “She does not mean to—”

“What?” Asu asked. “Hold me at arm’s length?”

Muruthi sighed and shook his head as he looked at Grandmother Siti and Hera.

“Miria’s nature cannot be resolved with words,” Muruthi said. “She does not mean to be so cold.”

“She’s only cold with me. Why is she?” Asu asked, needing answers. She needed them now more than ever. It felt like she needed to know why her mother treated her so poorly. “Am I not her daughter?”

Muruthi looked at her with wide eyes, guilt flooding the depths of his dark eyes and Asu sucked in air at the panic in his eyes.

She had no time to examine his response because her door opened and Grandmother Siti leaned in to look at her with a smile.

“Come out, child,” Grandmother Siti said in greeting. “Hera is already taking your bags into the house. Come, Asu. Let your father go back to Nairobi. He needs to work.”

Asu held her father’s gaze for a moment longer, a sharp pain blooming in her chest as he continued to stare at her with a sad expression.

Grandmother Siti did not let her ask more, already pulling on her left arm so that she could get out. Asu grabbed the old book she had been reading all night and her book bag. She came out of the car, her chest aching at the truth in her father’s eyes. The confirmation that she was truly not Miria’s daughter hurt. It hurt so much, she could not breathe.

Then, who was her mother? Where was her true mother? Where could she go to find the one who owed her a mother’s embrace?

Grandmother Siti closed the door for her and pulled her away from the car.

“Asu,” Muruthi said, coming out of the driver’s side. He leaned on the car, looking at her with…pity in his eyes.

Asu fought back the urge to scream in frustration.

“You should go,” Grandmother Siti said to Muruthi, not letting him finish what he was going to say. “I’ll take care of the girls here. I will call you if there is anything.”

Muruthi nodded, then he gave Asu an apologetic glance, returned to the car, and drove off.

Asu stared after her father’s car filled with more questions. They rattled inside her brain, and her heart threatened to drown her with pain. The conversation she needed to have with her father was not simple. She needed someone to give her answers. A thousand answers.

Asu turned to look at Grandmother Siti.

“Grandma—”

“Your father and mother have raised you to the age of twenty,” Grandma Siti said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “It was not easy for them and there is even Hera who looks up to you. The answers you seek will come later. It’s not good to fight with your parents, child. Come inside. You must be tired. Rest and let’s have a cup of tea.”

Asu allowed her grandmother to lead her into the house, fighting to push back the pain of her so-called mother’s coldness. She had tried so hard to thaw it. All her life, she had tried. It felt as though she would never find a way to get past the coldness of her mother. And now that Muruthi’s reaction had cast doubt on her origin, she could not see a time when Miria would dare to love her.

Asu let out a sigh as she entered the room her grandmother kept for her. Everything in it was clean and neat. A set of pictures lined the top of a chest of drawers. Asu moved closer and smiled as she touched each one. They were pictures of her, Hera, and their two cousins, Prisca, and Sibila. All of them were taken here at Kinga Farm.

Asu touched the happy smiles on her cousins and felt the heavy burden in her heart lift. That’s right, her favorite memories were made here at Kinga Farm. She decided to forget the unpleasantness of her mother’s coldness and immerse herself in this place.

Kinga Farm made her feel free.

“Put away your things,” Grandmother Siti said. “Join Hera and I in the kitchen. If there is no one in the kitchen, we’re all in the orange trees.”

Asu nodded, but as her grandmother started turning away from her Asu remembered her father’s panicked expression.

“Grandma Siti,” Asu said, making Siti pause at the door.

Asu gripped the old book tight in her hand and clutched the strap of her book bag. Siti’s dark gaze was filled with gentleness when she looked at Asu. There was never any sense of coldness or annoyance.

“Is Miria my mother?” Asu asked, needing to know.

For the first time in her life, Asu caught sight of doubt in Siti’s gaze. There was surprise at the question and a dash of the guilt that had filled Muruthi’s gaze.

“Why do you ask?” Siti asked.

“I—,” Asu broke off, suddenly afraid of Siti’s confirmation. What would it mean if she was not Miria’s daughter? Would it mean she stopped being a Kinga? Would she have any right to keep calling Siti ‘grandmother’?

Asu bit her bottom lip hard and shook her head.

“D-don’t t-tell me. I don’t need to know the answer,” Asu said. “Don’t tell me.”

“Asu—”

“Let me change into comfortable jeans,” Asu said. “I’ll head to the kitchen after and maybe help in the orchards.”

Siti studied her for a moment then nodded.

“Okay. Take your time, Asu,” Siti said, then hurried away.

Asu let out a sigh and moved to place her book bag on the bed. She placed the old book on her pillow and sat on the bed hoping to calm her aching heart. Taking another deep breath, Asu swallowed down the knot of tears in her throat.

“Asu,” Hera said, entering her room fifteen minutes later.

Asu had changed into comfortable blue jeans and a pink t-shirt. Her free natural hair was combed into two neat round bundles on top of her head. She was tying a pink ribbon on the left one when Hera entered her room.

“I waited for you in the kitchen and you didn’t come,” Hera said. “Grandma is outside. Let’s go find Prisca. Grandmother says she is out walking through the coffee fields. After, we can go eat oranges from the trees?”

“Are the oranges really in season?” Asu asked.

“If they’re not, I’m sure we’ll find something. There are always fruits in grandma’s farm,” Hera said. “Let’s have an awesome holiday.”

“Yes, let’s,” Asu agreed as they headed out of her room.

****

Chapter Three | Table of Contents | Chapter Five

Yargo

Yargo

by Jacqueline Susann

A beautiful earth woman is kidnapped by Yargo, the incredibly attractive ruler of a distant world, and begins a romantic adventure to exotic planets.

A tale ensues:

I read this book when I was in grade school so many years ago. It was on the home library shelf and the story is not very difficult to read, so I loved it then and still reread it when I remember it. This year the reread was triggered by a total eclipse event. The visual of the moon covering the sun lets you know there are planet-sized mysteries beyond our skies. Anyway, I caught a glimpse of the event and happened to clean out the bookshelves, and voila! Yargo came to mind.

Yargo is quite fascinating as Jacqueline Susann wrote it in the 1950s as a romance novel with a sci-fi twist. The main character Janet Cooper goes camping in the sand dunes of Avalon, searching for the meaning of life as she knows it. She’s out in the evening, staring at the stars, and reminiscing about teenage dreams. When lo and behold one of those stars suddenly hangs lower than normal. Janet Cooper is promptly kidnapped off the planet by aliens.

The first time I read it I went out to check whether the stars could do this (I was thirteen, excuse my excited imagination). You can also imagine my disappointment when none of this happened. The stars did not hang low for me, at all. Damn you, Janet Cooper. The idea felt possible at the time.

Still, I loved the adventure of this story.

It turns out the aliens made a mistake by capturing a human from planet Earth. We’re imperfect, but the aliens are lightyears ahead of our planet and consider themselves evolved to perfection. Now, the aliens who botched the job had to figure out where to take Janet Cooper. The planet that finally agrees to take her in is called Yargo. Yargo is considered a utopian world full of perfect beings. Incidentally, Janet who had been wondering where to find the ideal man, (as earlier mentioned ‘reminiscing her teenage dreams in the dunes‘), meets him on this planet.

Reading it now, I don’t think it is truly a romance story but a metamorphosis story for Janet. I loved how imaginative Yargo is and it is a great sci-fi read, especially for someone not looking to dig too deep into a sci-fi world. Instead, it takes on a philosophical outlook on utopias and the beauty of imperfections.

THQ – Chapter Three

Miria’s Coldness

Asukai

Rain started falling in gentle drops as Asu left the university, blanketing the city of Nairobi in a soft relentless shower. Pedestrians walked fast hoping to avoid getting soaked.

Asu Kinga matched her fellow pedestrian’s pace, adjusting the hold on her umbrella and hating the wetness growing in her rubber shoes. She should have worn a pair of good leather shoes this morning but she had not paused to think about the weather. She was lucky she always carried an umbrella in her bag.

Asu hurried along the street, walking fast toward the footbridge that would get her into the main town. Her bookbag felt heavy on her shoulders. Instead of dwelling on the discomfort, her thoughts lingered on her pending homework assignments, the worries of how to replenish her dwindling pocket money fund, and catching a bus ride to her family home in South C.

She was a second-year student at the University of Nairobi, majoring in history and archeology. A major her father insisted was a waste of time. He would have preferred she take on economy or education. Asu had no desire to be an economist, nor could she explain her unrelenting need to discover more about the past. She had accepted that she was a resounding disappointment to her father.

As for her mother, Asu let out an unconscious sigh.

Miria Kinga had no opinion on her choices. Asu sometimes wondered if they were even related. She was glad Miria had no opinion though. If Miria asked about it, she was afraid she would change her major just because her mother voiced an opinion on her life.

Shaking her head, Asu hurried into the central business district in search of a matatu to get her to South C.

Twenty minutes later found Asu sitting in the backseat of a relatively quiet matatu. She paid her fare and reached for her buzzing phone to find a message from her younger sister, Hera.

Asu smiled as she opened the message on WhatsApp. Hera wanted to know what time she was coming home.

When will you get here, Sis? You know we're going to Grandma's tomorrow, right? We need to pack up for the month.

Asu grinned and answered the message.

'Already on the way. I'll be home soon. You can start packing without me.

'Not really, it's not as fun. Hurry. I'm waiting for you.'

'Sawa, I'll be there.' (Ok)

Asu smiled when her sister sent her an excited GIF. She started to turn off the messaging app but then paused when she saw a new notification. She opened the message from Professor Hardy.

'Take good care of the book I gave you. The owner may want it back and we don't want to ruin the relationship over an old book.'

Asu smiled at the gentle warning and replied that she would be careful with the book. Putting away her phone, Asu opened her book bag and pulled out the brown envelope with the old book. She retrieved the old book from the envelope and sat staring at the dated leather cover used to bind it together. The front had no title but it had the shape of the fig embedded in the old leather.

Asu ran a finger over the fig with reverence. She wanted to open the book and discover why her professor wanted her to read it. But one glance out the window and she decided not to indulge herself.

Her stop was close and she was at the back of the fourteen-seater public van. She dumped the book into her book bag and made sure to zip the bag tight.

“Shukisha!” (Stop) Asu soon called out when it was her turn, and the tout opened the door, prompting the driver to pull to the side at her stop.

*****

Their home was a four-bedroom cottage surrounded by stone walls and a black gate along a quiet street. Their neighbors were laid back, and preferred privacy, so it was rare to find too much activity on their road. Asu used her key to unlock the side gate when she reached.

She entered the gate to the sound of Hera’s dog barking her welcome. Asu paused to greet the white fluffy dog when it came racing from the open front door to greet her. She crouched down to pet the little poodle’s head as it tried its best to climb into her arms.

Asu did not lift the little thing instead, she smoothed its fur with a small smile. She preferred cats, but their mother would not allow her to get one.

“Asu!”

Hera raced out of the house, shouting her enthusiasm as she threw herself into Asu’s arms.

Asu dropped her book bag on the ground and wrapped her arms around Hera. Her younger sister was growing taller than her. She was skinny thanks to months in boarding school. Hera was in her second year of high school. They only saw each other during school holidays. Asu hugged Hera tight.

“I missed you too,” Hera said when Asu buried her face into her shoulder and rubbed her back in a soothing motion.

Asu smiled at the warm welcome. Then, Hera let go of her and took her bags.

“Come in,” Hera said. “Mom has a meeting today. The women from the area are here. You know how it gets.”

Asu nodded, knowing she was going to start a wash and clean session in the kitchen soon. Miria Kinga may have a house manager, but her daughters were supposed to help with the cleaning, especially when there were guests. Well, mostly her eldest daughter had to clean.

Inside the house, Asu let out a soft sigh as she pulled out her best smile. Hera carried her bags past the living room, but Asu needed to greet their mother’s friends. Asu moved from one lady to the next, offering her hand in a cordial greeting. When she reached her mother, Miria took her hand in a limp greeting and accepted her hug because everyone was watching.

“You’re here,” Miria said in greeting. “Help with the dishes. There is food in the kitchen.”

Asu nodded and followed her sister to the kitchen. There, she found Mercy the housekeeper already busy with dinner preparations and a pile of dishes waiting at the sink. Before she could place her bag down, she heard Miria from behind her.

“Asu, you help Mercy,” Miria said. “Hera, start packing up for the month at your grandmother’s place. You’re always so lazy about it. Make sure you don’t forget anything.”

Hera gave an exaggerated sigh but turned away from the kitchen as her mother urged.

Miria paused at the door to look at Asu with a complicated glance. Asu spent a few minutes trying to decipher what Miria was thinking, but then, it was impossible to figure out her mother. Miria shrugged and walked back to the living room, leaving Asu standing in the middle of the kitchen, conflicted.

“She’s always so strict with you,” Mercy said, from her position at the counter. Her hands were wrist-deep in dough. “The moment you come home and you’re already in the kitchen.”

Mercy shook her head and Asu shrugged at the painful slight. She placed her bag on the kitchen table and stretched out her arms to shake off the sting.

“Come and hug me, Asu. I’m glad you’re home,” Mercy said, looking at her.

Asu crossed the room to hug Mercy from the back. Mercy chuckled when she let go.

“There is tea in the flask over there,” Mercy nodded to a large flask she used for visitors. “There are samosas in the hotpot next to the flask. Eat something before you start helping in the kitchen.”

“You’re the best,” Asu hugged Mercy again, rubbed her back, and went to the sink to wash her hands. She got herself a clean mug and a small plate and went to pour herself some tea. She was hungry.

“How is your Professor Hardy?” Mercy asked as she kneaded the dough for chapatis.

“Still interesting,” Asu said, as she savored the warm samosas from the hotpot. “He has me labeling samples from a dig his team did in northwest Kenya. There are so many interesting discoveries in our country. You wouldn’t believe how deep the past is within our borders. I get excited every time I get the chance to check it out.”

Mercy smiled at her.

“You and the past. I think you caught a bug when you were little and all you want to learn is history. You should plan to make some history too.”

“As soon as I graduate,” Asu said. “I’ll find a job that allows me to rent a nice place. I can’t wait to be out on my own.”

“What about Hera?” Mercy asked.

Asu stared at the last bit of her samosa for a minute, then shrugged.

“Mama will take care of her most. I doubt she’ll miss me.”

“You don’t believe that,” Mercy said, shaking her head. “Hera loves you most.”

“I love her too.” Asu ate the last bit of samosa and let out a happy moan as it hit the spot. “Still, we’re on different levels. She doesn’t need to work as hard as me to get anything. Mama will make sure she gets everything she needs. Me, I have to fight for it.”

She met Mercy’s gaze when the housekeeper turned to look at her.

Mercy let out another sigh making Asu chuckle.

Asu finished her tea and was closing the hotpot with the samosas when Hera walked in and went to the fridge.

“I can help you start packing, Asu,” Hera said as she retrieved a bottle of orange juice. She closed the door and leaned on it to study Asu.

“No,” Asu said, knowing Miria would curse her out if she found Hera helping to pack her clothes. “I’ll get to it after I finish in here with Mercy.”

“You can trust me too,” Hera said, her gaze pleading.

“It’s okay, Hera,” Asu said and pointed to her book bag. “You can take the book bag to my room though. I think I’ll be here a while.”

Hera sighed and reached for the heavy bag.

“You don’t let me do anything for you,” Hera said, as she carried out the bookbag. “One of these days, you’re going to have to trust me too.”

Asu watched her little sister walk out of the kitchen.

“She will never see it your way,” Mercy said, voicing her thoughts. “To her, Miria is a good mother to both of you. She thinks Miria’s harder on you because you’re her big sister. She tries to take on some of the trouble coming your way, but it will never be enough. Don’t hold it against her.”

Asu let out a sigh and shrugged.

Their mother’s treatment of Asu was too hard to explain. She had no time to figure out if Hera had noticed the differences. It was hard enough surviving in this house.

“I can’t wait until school starts again,” Asu said, taking her mug to the sink.

Mercy chuckled.

At the sink, Asu turned on the tap to fill a basin. She arranged the mugs to be washed on the sink counter, emptying used teabags and collecting teaspoons into a small pile. The water in the basin overfilled and she reached for the tap to close the water. Her right hand skimmed over the water in the basin, and the overflowing water stilled, halting on its path to the drain.

Asu stared at the still waters a small frown creasing her forehead. This was not the first time. She moved her hand, and the water flowed back to the basin, waiting even though the basin was overfilled. Taking a clean jug from the rack on her left, she scooped out some water in the basin, and the water settled at a good level.

Asu stood at the sink studying the water in the basin. Her way with water scared her. One time, while washing dish rugs at the back of the house, she tipped over a basin filled with clean water. In the shock of the spill, she threw out her hands as though to stop the basin from pouring out its contents. The next thing she knew, the water stopped in midair, and when she righted the basin, it returned into the basin as though the spill never started. There were other moments too, scattered, and hidden secret encounters with water that happened when she was alone and comfortable with no one to ask why water was acting strange around her. She shared these secrets with no one.

Their community was too suspicious, too judgmental, and too scared of anything paranormal, she was afraid Miria would demonize her. Turn her into a pariah in a world where she already felt left out.

“What are you thinking about at the sink?” Mercy asked, pulling her back to the moment.

Asu glanced at Mercy with a small smile and placed the jug of water on the side.

“I was thinking about the homework Professor Hardy gave me,” Asu said, smoothing over her silent moment. She started washing the dozen tea mugs that the visitors used for tea. “He gave me work to complete this holiday. He wants me to send him notes throughout the month. I’m hoping I’ll be able to give the work justice.”

“Isn’t that unfair? It’s your holiday time,” Mercy protested, overturning her dough.

Asu smiled because as much as she lacked warmth from her mother, she received it from unexpected places. Mercy was the only one who often showed concern about her heavy school obligations.

“I don’t mind,” Asu said, turning away from the sink to smile at Mercy with a heart full of gratitude.

Asu continued washing dishes but she was soon sorry that she had no time to dress down. The waters might move at her will during unexpected moments, but they surely soaked her blouse when she was washing dishes. Her nice blouse was soaked and she needed a change.

It was hard to get away for a private minute though. She was pulled into the whirlwind of dish-washing, offering fresh drinks and snacks to their guests, and helping to make food for the evening. By the time she caught her breath, her shoulders ached, and she just wanted to sleep until morning. It was also late into the evening. Mercy was the only one to understand her exhaustion.

After a quick meal in the kitchen with Mercy, Asu went to her room and bit back a groan when she found Hera lying on her stomach in the middle of her bed. Asu’s book bag was open next to her. Hera was reading the old book with the fig on the cover.

“Where did you get this book?” Hera asked, holding up the old leather book Professor Hardy had given her.

Asu fought back the urge to protest her sister’s clear invasion of privacy, but it was useless to try. Hera always did what she wanted, always in Asu’s world whether she wanted it or not. Always digging through her bags for discoveries.

“Professor Hardy gave it to me,” Asu said, choosing truth. “It’s supposed to be part of a project he wants to start. He gave me the book to read and write comprehensive notes. I am to return it when the holiday ends.”

Hera nodded and sat up. She looked pretty in a pink dress decorated with yellow flowers. Her hair was in long braids. Asu was sure Hera had called their hairdresser the moment she returned from boarding school to get the braids.

Asu sat next to Hera and took the book from Hera. This time there was no vibration or reaction. Perhaps it was because Hera had opened it. She could not tell. The open page had a set of four nineteen-forties pictures. Hera pointed to the first picture on the left page.

“Doesn’t this look like grandma’s gate?” Hera asked, touching the picture. “This huge white bougainvillea covers the gate pillars just like grandma’s, right? The wide-open blue gate at her place is also like this, right?

Asu frowned as she studied the pictures. The half-closed gate did have similar designs, but the picture was black and white. She could not tell whether it was blue or black. The bougainvillea plant was hard to ignore though. The one in the picture grew high above the gate pillars in the same way as the one at her grandmother’s home.

The road outside the gate was a dirt road like the present road too.

“It can’t be,” Asu said, her gaze shifting to the other three pictures. There were two pictures with the massive bougainvillea fence that grew at her grandmother’s gate. One had the road leading up to the open gates with similar markings. The similarities were many, but this could be a coincidence.

“If this is grandma’s gate, why would these pictures be in this book?” Asu asked with a frown.

“I’ve read the first part of the book. The author is discussing a timeless farm called Fig Hill Farm. It’s a she and she does not name the location of the farm,” Hera said. “However, the pictures and the fact that the farm is filled with orange trees at some point made me think of grandma’s farm.”

“Fig Hill,” Asu’s expression turned thoughtful. “You know, our cousin Prisca once said that grandma’s farm used to be called Fig Hill when she was young. Then, she changed it to Kinga Farm when Dad was born.”

“Weird how there is someone who has documented grandma’s place,” Hera said.

“Strange,” they both concluded at the same time and burst out into a laugh.

Miria appeared at the bedroom door at that moment, and leaned on the doorframe, signaling the end of the women’s meeting.

“All packed up?” Miria asked, her gaze on Hera, and then she turned an expectant gaze on Asu.

“Soon,” Asu said, closing the book, and placing it on her bed to look at later.

“Good,” Miria said, holding Asu’s gaze. “Your dad will drop you off at your grandmother’s home this time. Don’t leave anything that you think is important to you here. You may not get another chance to return for it.”

Asu frowned at her mother’s tone. The wording was also strange. She was sure the warning was meant for her and not Hera.

Why would she have no other chance to return here?

“Mama, aren’t you coming to grandma’s later?” Hera asked, frowning. “You can always bring anything we need with you when you drive over.”

“No,” Miria said, shifting her gaze back to Hera. “It will only be you girls this time. Hurry up with your packing. It will be good if you sleep early today. I don’t want your dad to have a hard time waiting to get you up in the morning.”

Hera frowned as she stared at their mother.

Asu stood and went to pull out her suitcase from her closet. Miria gave her an approving nod, and for a moment, Asu was sure she saw a moment of triumph in her gaze. The look faded as soon as it appeared.

“Come on, Hera,” Miria said, holding out her hand to Hera. “I’ll help you pack so that you don’t forget anything. We’ll leave you to it, Asu.”

Asu stared after them for a while, hating the burning growing in her chest. She opened her suitcase and wondered what it was about her mother’s attitude toward her that irked her. Weren’t they mother and daughter? Why did Hera get all Miria’s smiles? Why did Miria not want to help her pack? The stings were many with no salve to heal them.

Shaking her head, Asu’s gaze shifted to the book on the bed, and she pushed the suitcase aside. She reached for the book and sat on her bed to read an interesting account of a farm that seemed to have existed for hundreds of years. The similarities to her grandmother’s farm grew with each page. The author spoke of a farm that stayed untouched through extreme political turmoil, and disease outbreaks, always flourishing no matter the weather season, and a family that guarded the farm’s secrets for eternity.

Asu read the journal into the deep night and ended up packing her bags in a mad rush in the morning. Miria scolded her when she was late getting to breakfast and finding her shoes when it was time to go.

Asu made sure to carry her favorite book bag filled with necessities like chewing gum, toiletries, her favorite lotion, and a novel to get through the worst of boredom. She included the old diary she had read all night and a round amulet her grandmother had given her when she was very young. The items in her bookbag were her most important trinkets, the rest of the stuff in her suitcase could be considered her daily clothes and shoes.

Hera hugged their mother goodbye and received a tight one in return.

When it was Asu’s turn, she received a firm handshake and a pat on her ponytail. She entered her father’s car in the backseat while Hera sat in the front passenger seat.

“Ready?” Muruthi asked when they settled.

Asu met his gaze in the rear-view mirror and smiled when Muruthi winked at her. He noticed Miria’s coldness toward Asu, but he never mentioned it or tried to rectify it. Asu could only assume there was nothing that could be done with Miria’s attitude.

Oh well, it was enough she could still call her mom.

“Ready,” Hera said, wearing her seatbelt.

“Let’s go!” Muruthi said, starting the car. “Hera, you choose the tunes, and Asu, share out the snacks when we need them. Okay. We’ll be at grandmother’s in no time.”

Asu smiled at her father’s infectious enthusiasm, and as the car took off, she forgot her mother’s indifference as she soaked in the freedom of a drive to her grandmother’s highland farm.

*****

Chapter Two | Table of Contents | Chapter Four

THQ – Chapter Two

The Border Adjutant

Tarron
Castle Kontar
Eseran Province, Goshalion

Eseran Province was home to the Bura Clan. The feared men and women who conquered the Airi Clan to take over Goshalion Mountain. It was said that Lord Jesah Kontar, the leader of the Bura, drank the Airi Queen’s blood to grow his strength.

Tarron Leodi had no idea about the drinking of Airi Queen’s blood, but he knew one truth about his uncle. Lord Jesah was a ruthless brute who only wanted more power in Goshalion. He would drain the people of Goshalion down to nothing if it meant he sat at the highest point in their world.

Now, Castle Kontar in the northwest of Goshalion was considered the highest point of Goshalion. It was where Lord Jesah lived with his mistress, Anath.

Anath’s son, Lazuli, had to call Lord Jesah ‘father’ even though he was truly a blood uncle. Tarron, who was Anath’s adopted son, called Lord Jesah ‘uncle’, though Jesah had asked him more than once to call him father.

Twenty years of living in the same house, and still, Tarron could not bring himself to call Jesah ‘father’. The only father he acknowledged was Lord Sahura Kontar.

Anath’s true husband, and Lazuli’s father.

No one had heard from Lord Sahura in two decades. Jesah and Anath had pushed him into hiding for the sake of power.

Tarron took in a deep breath as he buttoned his leather trousers. Once secure, he leaned over to check his leather combat boots, making sure the buckles were sealed tight. It would not do if they came apart while he was mid-match. Satisfied with his boots, he straightened up and reached for the long-sleeved tunic hanging in his locker. The soft black fabric of the tunic was designed to withstand the rigors of being in the army. The weaving on the fabric protected skin from easy damage in close combat. If the enemy was vicious, then it reduced the damage, if the soldier was lucky.

Tarron’s tunic was black as he was a captain, thanks to hard work these past fifteen years. He had earned his stripes in the ranks. Every second was designed to reach this moment, to earn his final rank.

Now, he was graduating from the Kontar Military Academy.

Tarron wore the tunic, pulling it on in one swift practiced move. When it was on, he adjusted the long sleeves to his wrists. He reached up and made sure the ponytail of his braided hair was secure in its tough bronze clasp. Satisfied with the tension of the clasp, Tarron reached into the locker for his combat gloves. The door to the locker room opened and he looked up to find his best friend Jax walking in. Jax looked tired, having finished his match.

“How did you do?” Tarron asked, wearing his gloves.

“Lazuli won,” Jax said coming to sit on the closest bench. He hissed as he stretched out his left arm to study a cut on his upper arm. “Your brother is too vicious. He cut me at the end when he was about to win. Little idiot truly thinks he’s a genius warrior.”

Tarron grinned and reached into his locker to touch the round amulet he always wore during his combat sessions. He took the hefty bronze amulet with the head of a lion on its surface and clipped it on the inside of his tunic. The cool metal felt reassuring against his skin.

“So, you’re fighting the final match against Lazuli,” Jax said, giving up on inspecting his arm. He turned his dark gaze on Tarron. The red ring around his iris seemed to light with fire at the thought of Tarron and Lazuli fighting.

“You know what to expect,” Tarron said, closing his locker, and adjusting his gloves to make sure they were on tight.

“What do I have to say to change your mind?” Jax asked. “Should I find Master Daae so he can talk sense into you?”

“What makes you think Master Daae doesn’t know?” Tarron asked with a small shrug. “Whatever happens today, I must become the Adjutant Officer of the Border.”

Jax cursed under his breath and let out a loud sigh.

“I’ve always believed your head is screwed on wrong. Everyone in the combat hall out there is scrambling to win the top spot as Castle Kontar’s Marshall. You want to be the second best. Anath must have dropped you on the head when you were a child.”

“Screw you, Jax.”

“Don’t need to, your brother already did his best to maim me. If you become the Border Adjutant you need to promise to take care of this subordinate. My first lieutenant status can only get me a position under your command, Sir.”

Tarron chuckled at Jax’s words.

“Stop acting pitiful, First Lieutenant Jaxxan Ahn. Your father is a wealthy merchant in our Bura Clan. What pitiful? I’ll be relying on your family’s gold for support.”

“Then, you may call me ‘master’, Captain,” Jax said, getting up. He moved to stand before Tarron and checked his tunic, making sure it covered his neck, down to his stomach. He checked his leather pants, and the leather belt holding them in place. He crouched down and checked his boots, making sure they were sealed tight. When he was satisfied, Jax straightened to his full height and took Tarron’s hands, adjusting his gloves.

“Fight smart,” Jax said. “Lazuli gets careless when he thinks he is about to win. He has a mean streak as you know. Try not to lose an eye when you fight him. I will see you on the other side.”

Tarron met Jax’s gaze and nodded in understanding.

“If you make it through this one, you’ll have the start of freedom tomorrow,” Jax said, his voice low.

Tarron bit back a smile and nodded his agreement.

Jax clasped his hands tight and then reached into Tarron’s locker. He brought out two long daggers, their handles shaped from black stone, smooth and easy to hold. He handed the daggers to Tarron.

“Fight true, warrior.”

Tarron gripped the daggers in his hand, gave Jax a final nod, then walked out of the locker room. Jax closed his locker and followed him to the combat arena.

Tarron walked with confidence into the long aisle that led to the fighting circle in the middle of the large dome-like combat arena. The bleachers were packed with cadets from the Kontar Military Institute. Shouts and whistles from different factions filled the air as the adjutant in charge of the event’s voice filled the announcers.

“And now, the final match of this championship is here. The final qualifying match to determine the newest Castle Kontar Marshall is here. The winner shall take on the office of Marshall, helping Lord Jesah oversee troops spread across the Goshalion realm. The final match is between Lazuli Kontar and Tarron Leodi.”

Tarron walked up to the fighting circle, conscious of the various Bura military officers and leaders sitting in the front rows of the match. Lazuli already waited in the middle of the circle. He was dressed in red, his tunic that of a captain, but colored red as he was a Kontar heir.

Tarron felt Jax squeeze his left elbow when he was close to the fighting circle. Jax stepped back allowing Tarron to continue up the short steps up the large circle marked with the red falcon that was the symbol of the Bura clan.

“Took you long enough,” Lazuli Kontar said when Tarron faced him.

Tarron shrugged his shoulders to loosen up his muscles and ignored Lazuli’s taunts. Instead, he gave all his attention to the referee.

“You have three attack cycles,” the referee said, placing his hands on Tarron’s right shoulder and Lazuli’s left shoulder. “The points you earn will be added to the fifty matches you have had through the championship games. Follow the rules and we’ll have no issues. Do you understand?”

“Understood,” Tarron said, and met Lazuli’s gaze, the distinct red ring around his iris sparking fire.

“Kontar,” the referee prompted.

“I understand the rules, Sir,” Lazuli said.

“Good, then the match starts now,” the referee tapped their shoulders and stepped back, raising his arms to signal the start of the match, then dropping them down to start the fight.

Lazuli attacked him like a madman. He was practically frothing at the mouth. Seeing him like this, Tarron forgot they were considered brothers by their clan. The combat arena went silent as they watched in horror as Tarron and Lazuli exchanged attacks with unimaginable skill. Tarron won the first of the attacks after a mighty struggle.

The second attack was harder. Lazuli fought with double the determination. Tarron gritted his teeth as he faced his older brother in a deadly dagger match. The fine blades of their sharp daggers clashed, crossing, deflecting, defending, then Lazuli used his elbow to hit Tarron’s right arm, determined to disarm him.

Tarron evaded the attack and used his left fist to punch Lazuli’s stomach. Lazuli bent over, letting out a gasp at the impact, and Tarron rested his right dagger on Lazuli’s neck, right at his vital vein.

“Match, Leodi’s second win!” the referee called out and a spat of claps filled the large practice hall.

Lazuli cursed and pushed Tarron away, annoyance clear on his face as he scowled at Tarron.

Tarron bit back a sigh at the familiar look. He was twenty-three this year. He had watched Lazuli give him the same scowl for twenty years. He had become immune.

“What do you think winning will get you?” Lazuli asked, closing the distance between him and Tarron.

Their faces were so close, that Tarron could see the specks of black in Lazuli’s dark irises. The red fire of the ring surrounding them was in turmoil. Lazuli was sweating with the effort of their match.

“You’re bound to remain under my command, Leodi,” Lazuli gritted out in a low whisper. “Don’t forget it for a minute.”

“How could I when you remind me each time?” Tarron asked with a sigh. “Calm down. The leadership is watching. We just need to finish one more round then we’ll have the results needed to make you the Marshall.”

“You’re overstepping,” Lazuli warned, his gaze narrowed.

“I’m not,” Tarron said. “You and I have been at each other for years. It’s no secret that we’re in a deep competition. No one would believe you won if I didn’t put up a fight, Kontar. I’ll give you what you want, but you must allow me to gain something from this too. We both represent Castle Kontar. If you stay here at command, I must gain an office too. Which means I must win points for the matches. Uncle will be satisfied with your idea when he hears it.”

Lazuli stifled a gasp at the mention of their uncle. He held Tarron’s gaze for a full minute before he nodded.

“You would let me mention this…idea…to him?” Lazuli asked, his gaze narrowing as he studied Tarron.

“Yes,” Tarron said with a nod.

Lazuli let out a soft scoff and nodded.

“Fine. If you remember what must be done, I’ll let the punch to my gut and your two wins go,” Lazuli said. “Let’s finish this.”

“Are you two done?” the referee asked, standing a few feet away from them.

“We’re ready,” Lazuli declared with a smirk as he looked at Tarron. “Tarron knows his place. We’ll finish the last of this qualifying match.”

Tarron let out a soft sigh as Lazuli turned away from him. His grip on his daggers tightened as he fought to hold back his anger.

His older brother was a bully. This was the nicest word he could use to describe Lazuli Kontar. They were brothers, but not by blood.

Tarron was adopted by the old Lord Kontar into the ruling Bura family. He was too young to remember his birth parents. He often wondered about them, but there was no one to tell him their story.

Their uncle, Jesah Kontar had taken over their father’s duties, essentially becoming the new Lord Kontar. Tarron hated him. Jesah was a cruel man, and he had turned Lazuli into a replica of himself.

“Alright, final attack of the match. The champion becomes the new Marshall and will help command the forces from Castle Kontar. The runner-up will take on the office of Adjutant Officer of the border. He will lead our forces to the borders of Eseran to ensure peace among the clans. Now that we know the stakes, are the contestants ready?”

Lazuli raised his arms, making a show for their audience as he said, “Yes.”

The audience responded to his declaration with cheers and Tarron held back a sigh.

“Leodi?” The referee asked Tarron.

“Ready,” Tarron said, in a matter-of-fact tone. Cold and unyielding, he gained no applause from their audience, just one shout from afar.

“You can do it, Tarron!”

Tarron bit back a smile as he recognized Jax’s voice.

Satisfied that they were both willing to be in the last attack of the match, the referee held up his whistle, and Tarron faced Lazuli, adjusting his hold on his daggers. Fighting to win was easy. Fighting to not win was more complex.

The moment the whistle was blown, Lazuli attacked him like a crazy dog. Doing his best to injure Tarron and take him down in a decisive win. It took everything Tarron had to ignore the multiple openings Tarron presented in his quest to win.

Tarron exploited the openings to keep the match going, escaping Lazuli’s many attempts to skewer him with the daggers. Then, five minutes into the match, Tarron gave Lazuli a swift opening, allowing Lazuli’s dagger to swipe at his left arm making a significant cut on his dark tunic. Lazuli smiled at the accomplishment. Fighting the urge to retaliate with force, Tarron stepped back and dropped his left dagger.

Lazuli rushed him and pressed his daggers to his neck in a show of dominance. His mouth curved in a sick smile.

“Match! Kontar wins!” the referee called.

Lazuli grinned. He stepped back, sheathed his daggers, and raised his arms above his head in a show of triumph. The applause started slow but grew with momentum.

Tarron leaned down to pick up his dropped dagger and walked back to the edge of the circle, not giving Lazuli his back. It would be too easy for his brother to throw his dagger at him. He was glad when one of the nurses from the healing center reached for his left arm and pulled him off the fighting ring with a decisive pull.

She studied his arm for a minute, then looked up at him with a puzzled gaze.

“Your cut is shallow,” she said, already cleaning the welling blood. She applied crushed herbs to the wound using a small wooden spatula from the kit she carried. Covering the cut thoroughly with the crushed herbs, she met Tarron’s gaze with a small frown.

“Lord Leodi, I don’t understand. You could have won the match.”

Tarron met her gaze and smiled wide with pride.

“I did win.”

The nurse stared at him as though he were crazy, but Tarron did not elaborate further. His gaze shifted to the adjutant in charge of the competition. He had come down to stand on the fight circle now that combat matches had ended. He was now reading the results of the competition day.

“And, the winner of this year’s qualifying competition is young Lord Lazuli Kontar. He now becomes our esteemed commandant’s assistant as Castle Kontar’s Marshall. He shall be stationed at Castle Kontar.”

“Young Lord Tarron Leodi came in second. He shall be the Adjutant Officer of the Borders. He shall be in charge of a fifty-man troop and will guard and police Eseran’s southwest border with Hodari. The Border Adjutant shall report to Castle Kontar with frequency and forward any new developments as needed.”

“Young Master Jaxxan Ahn comes in third. He becomes a first lieutenant working with Border Adjutant, Lord Leodi. The convoy heading to the border will leave in the morning. As for everyone else on the ranking competition list, find your posting on the class boards. Fulfill your new duties to the best of your ability. May Eseran prosper!”

“Eseran shall prosper,” everyone in the auditorium repeated, making it a loud chorus.

Tarron thanked the nurse for helping him with his wound and turned to leave the competition rink. Jaxxan caught up with him in the locker rooms.

“Hey,” Jaxxan said, gripping Tarron’s right shoulder. “It annoys him that you let him win. All those openings he gave you at the end. I’m salty thinking about it. Why the hell are you letting yourself get booted to the outskirts?”

“Not here,” Tarron said, glancing around the locker room as though someone could hear them. He collected his leather bag from his locker, closed it, and left the key on the locker door. He would not need it anymore.

Tarron led the way out of the locker room as Lazuli came in followed by his cronies. They all looked too excited about Lazuli’s new station as Castle Kontar’s Marshall. No doubt the group of friends hoped they would get to be assigned here at Castle Kontar, working under Lord Jesah, the Commandant.

Tarron ignored them when they booed at him as he passed.

Jax cursed at them as they left the locker room and got his share of jeers.

Tarron and Jaxxan did not talk until they were crossing the huge practice field behind the institute’s main building.

***

Chapter One | Table of Contents | Chapter Three

Defiant

Defiant (Song of Chaos Book Three)

by Michael R. Miller

The great powers are stirring, and Holt and Ash are ready to return to the fight.

A summons from the Life Elder sets them on a perilous mission, leading to steaming jungles and blistering islands where ancient secrets will challenge everything they know of magic and dragons.

Talia, the Red Queen, is beset on all sides by pirate raiders and marauding mercenaries. Empress Skadi has abandoned her, battling uprisings in her own lands. As the noose tightens on Feorlen, Talia faces a difficult choice: let her people suffer or turn her powers against mortal foes?

Osric Agravain has found hope with his newly bonded black dragon, but some wounds run deeper than flesh and bone. Along the Fallow Frontier, he seeks the inner peace that has long eluded him.

And within the sanctum at Falcaer, Paragon Adaskar is struggling to unite the fracturing riders. If he fails, ruinous chaos will break across the world.

For when Elders and Paragons quarrel, kingdoms will fall.

Thoughts:

I’ve been on a binge with this series. Three books down, and the adventure is still amazing. I like the pacing, although the multiple POVs in this book three have been challenging. Defiant contributes to the exciting existence of dragons, leadership, and a quest to protect.

I’ve enjoyed the journey. There was a deliberate setup for books four and five, which is fine even though it may take me time to return to it. All in all, this is a great series to read with younger readers.

He was his own worst critic, but he could admit one good thing about himself, the soldier, the general, the monster; when he decided on a thing, it got done. Do the job and do it well.
― Michael R. Miller, Defiant

THQ – Chapter One

Twenty Years Later

Asukai

“Asu Kinga.”

Twenty-year-old Asu glanced up from labeling tools collected from a dig in the northwest of Kenya. She smiled at her professor when she saw him standing by the door to the collection room.

“How is it going?” Professor Hardy asked, folding his arms against his neat checkered shirt.

“I’ve completed most of the samples you handed me yesterday,” Asu said, checking her worksheets. “I’ve labeled and noted every piece as you asked. I’ll place them into storage containers before I leave today.”

“Good work,” Professor Hardy praised, dropping his arms to his side, he entered the collection room. He walked to the large desk at the corner of the room as Asu concentrated on labeling the last three tools. She made the necessary notes on the worksheet and returned them to the clipboard for the next team.

She was busy arranging the pieces in sealable storage containers when Professor Hardy placed a book on the large worktable.

“What is this?” Asu asked, her interest peaked when she noted the book looked old. It was covered with old leather, and tied around with a leather cord. A massive fig tree with gnarled roots was embedded on the surface of the cover of the book.

“It looks old,” Asu said, wanting to touch it but holding herself back. She clasped her hands behind her back and glanced up at Professor Hardy. “Is this a new project?”

“Yes,” Professor Hardy said. “The book belongs to a private collection. It came to me via a private collector. She is researching old farms in the Mount Kenya region. She wants to document important sites in the area, sites known by the locals, and would be considered hidden gems.”

“For what purpose?” Asu asked.

“Scholarly,” Professor Hardy said with a small grin. “Of course, there is the aim to turn it into a lucrative educational tour, but that discussion is for another day. For now, we are simply collecting information.”

“And this diary will have information on an old hidden gem,” Asu said, her tone skeptical.

“We suspect so,” Professor Hardy said. “I need you to write thorough notes on what you find. This will go toward your course credits. We will also add your name to the research paper for merit.”

Asu nodded and unclasped her hands from behind her back. She reached for the old book and as her fingers closed over the cool leather, she froze as a shiver raced down her back. It was an involuntary shiver. She frowned as she looked up at the still fans mounted on the ceiling. It was a sunny day outside, but it was not overly hot, and the temperatures were quite comfortable. Why would she feel cold?

“Are you okay?” Professor Hardy asked when she hesitated to pick up the diary.

Her phone alarm buzzed and she glanced at the gadget sitting next to a sealed plastic container.

“Excuse me,” Asu said, as she reached over to turn off the alarm.

“It must be time to end your session,” Professor Hardy said, stepping away from her workstation. “I’ll let you pack up. Lock the cupboards when you have put everything away.”

“What about this old book?” Asu asked as she glanced at the leather book.

“Take it home with you. You have a month-long vacation. Take the time to read it between resting. I’d appreciate occasional notes dropped into my email,” Professor Hardy said. “Bring it back when you resume class next month.”

Asu grinned, happy to still have work to do at the Horace Hardy Institute. The little projects she did for Professor Hardy paid her enough to keep her pocket money fund going. It was not easy being a college student in Nairobi.

Her father was generous enough to pay for her education, but her mother was strict with her daily expenses. She often needed to supplement her funds to purchase private toiletries and her school project supplies. The extra credit for her coursework was the topping on the cake.

Asu worked fast, putting away the research items from the dig in northwest Kenya. When she locked them away, she returned to the worktable where the old book still waited.

Asu looked up to find Professor Hardy had stepped out. She reached for the book again and gritted her teeth as a shiver rushed down her spine. It made the hairs on her arms stand up straight, and her hair felt itchy. Frowning, Asu started to untie the book but a second alarm on her phone stopped her. She glanced at the time and let out a soft sigh.

It was a Friday, the last day of her semester this year. She was going back home in the afternoon.

Tomorrow, she would be heading to her grandmother’s for her month-long vacation. The routine was like clockwork. It had repeated itself since she was old enough to be in school.

Ignoring the strange shivers, Asu placed the book in her book bag and prepared to leave for the day. She carried her book bag out of the collection room and found Professor Hardy in his main office.

“See you, Professor,” Asu said, waving at him from the door.

“Mm,” Professor Hardy said, as he studied something on his laptop. “Have a good holiday, Asu. Don’t forget to send me notes.”

“I won’t forget,” Asu promised.

“Good,” Professor Hardy said and waved her off.

Asu bit back a smile at the professor’s dismissive tone and headed out of the archeology department. She had carried everything she needed from her dorm room, so she headed out of the university without delay.

****

Professor Hardy stood at the windows in his office watching Asu Kinga walk toward the gates. The girl was twenty this year. She was pretty for her age, but what he admired most was her intellect.

“Did you give her the book?”

Professor Hardy dragged his gaze away from Asu to the woman who came to stand next to him.

“Yes, I did,” Professor Hardy said. “I don’t understand why you would give such a valuable object to a child.”

“She’s no ordinary child,” the woman said with a grin. “She’s the key to a secret I’ve hoped to uncover for decades. I can’t wait until she falls into the quest too.”

“What secret could be found in the depths of a rural area?” Professor Hardy asked, shaking his head at the obsession the woman next to him carried. “Farms are farms. You see one, you’ve seen them all.”

“That’s what you know,” the woman said. “There is what I know and I will wait for the moment to discover a remarkable treasure.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” Professor Hardy said as he watched Asu step out of the college. Maybe some things are not meant to be messed with.”

“We’ll see what happens.”

***

Prologue (vi) | Table of Contents | Chapter Two

Unbound

Unbound (Song of Chaos Book Two)

by Michael R. Miller

Sometimes the world needs a little chaos.

Holt and Ash saved the kingdom of Feorlen against all odds. Now they are outcasts, alone on an impossible quest to unite the Elder Dragons. But they are children playing in a game of Dragon Lords. Trapped between the riders, servants of the Sovereign, and the scourge, even their luck cannot last forever. Their only hope is to advance their bond by any means necessary.

In Feorlen, Talia faces a world unaccepting of a rider queen. Her councilors will not heed her warnings of Sovereign. Foreign powers threaten war and bloodshed. Pleas sent to rider headquarters fall on deaf ears.

All the while, Sovereign regathers his strength in an ancient fortress. Enthralled cultists swell his ranks. Disillusioned riders flock to his cause.

And his unwilling servant Osric Agravain scours the land for dragon eggs. There are new types of magic to be discovered, and Sovereign intends to control them all.

Only the mysterious half-dragon Rake has a plan to stop Sovereign. To pull it off, he’s going to need a team.

Thoughts:

The fantasy journey continues in Song of Chaos Book Two. Holt and Ash continue on a dangerous quest. They still face prejudice over what is considered a weakness. Holt focuses on growing strength in this book. Talia faces a different type of prejudice. She must prove herself in a world that refuses to accept a rider queen.

The big bad grows stronger too. The most exciting part about this story is that the good stays good, and the bad is very bad. It is a classic good vs. evil story which I appreciate.

THQ – Prologue (vi)

Siti Gains a New GrandDaughter

Siti carried a sleeping baby girl back to the family farmhouse, her heart pounding with the brevity of the child. Wrapped in fine cotton swaddling blankets, the baby looked newly born. Siti frowned as she adjusted the leather bag that had come with the baby. She wanted to ask questions about the bag, but she couldn’t since the pathway had closed too fast. She knew she needed to take the baby inside the house first.

As Siti entered the house, her twenty-five-year-old son, Muruthi, ran to meet her. He paused when he saw her carrying the bundle.

“What did you bring back from the forest?” he asked.

“A child,” Siti said with a small smile. “We should go back inside so that you can see her. She’s sleeping. I should place her in Prisca’s crib.”

“Who is she?” Muruthi asked, peering into the blanket as Siti entered the house.

“I got a calling from the one beyond the fig tree,” Siti said. “It was lucky I was checking on the coffee and I did not make her wait. She appeared with her man and they handed me this child. They told us to protect her until she turned twenty-one.”

“This has never happened before,” Muruthi said. “Do you think all is well?”

“I can’t tell,” Siti said as she entered the nursery she used for all her children and grandchildren. There was a crib arranged near the windows and Siti placed the sleeping baby on a comfortable mattress. She did not attempt to unwrap the fine baby blanket. Though the child was still too small, it was easy to lose the sense of security needed at this age. Muruthi quickly arranged the blankets on the bed.

“Do you think she is special?” Muruthi asked, his gaze curious even as he worked on the crib.

“She’s from the other side, of course, she’s special,” Siti murmured, rocking the sleeping baby. “We cannot let anyone know who she is. I may have to trouble you, Muruthi. I’m too old to have given birth. But you, you have Miria.”

Muruthi froze, looking at his mother in surprise.

“You would have me take care of her as my daughter?” Muruthi asked.

“Yes,” Siti said. “I trust you with her. Don’t forget our duty to the farm.”

“How could I forget?” Muruthi asked, shaking his head as he finished arranging the crib.

Siti glanced at Muruthi who was studying the baby with interest.

“What do you think of my plan?” Siti asked when Muruthi touched the little child’s fists and smiled. “Do you think you and Miria can take care of her?”

Muruthi nodded, though a small frown danced on his forehead. “Miria may not be as open to the idea of a child from outside.”

“I’ll help you convince her,” Siti said, studying the baby. “There was a warning that came with taking on the task of protecting this child.”

“What warning?” Muruthi asked in a quiet tone, his gaze never leaving the baby.

“She must be returned before she turns twenty-one. Any delay and our farm will be in danger,” Siti said, meeting Muruthi’s gaze when he looked up. “It will not be easy to give your heart to a child you must give up. Can you do it?”

Muruthi held her gaze for a moment, then smiled.

“I can do it, Mom. I’m a Kinga after all. We never shy away from our duty, do we?”

“No,” Siti said with a proud nod.

“What is her name?” Muruthi asked.

“Asu,” Siti said. “That was all I heard as the pathway closed.”

“Then, she will live as Asu Kinga,” Muruthi declared with a pleased smile. He stroked a gentle hand over a small tight fist. “Asu, I’m your new father, and this is your new grandmother. You’ll love our Kinga Farm.”

*****

Prologue (v) | Table of Contents | Chapter One

THQ – Prologue (v)

Lord Jesah Enslaves a King and a Queen

Asha agreed with Renali’s observation. She wiped tears from her eyes as they made their way back to the main hallway. They were lucky no one was around when they left the secret passage. The secret door sealed and restored the mountain wall. No one would know how to reach the fig tree.

Renali held Asha as they walked slowly along the hallway.

Then, Renali stopped, pulling Asha close.

Asha looked up and felt her heart drop at the sight of Jesah of the Bura Clan walking toward them. He was flanked by ten burly warriors dressed in the black armor of their clan. Their blades were stained with blood from their Airi Clan warriors. Their faces filled with triumph at the sight of Renali and Asha at a disadvantage.

“Surrender, and you shall live,” Jesah said in greeting. His voice booming in their halls.

“The Bura will rule Airi lands as the lion rules the jungles,” Jesah declared. “All must obey our will. We shall reform this realm into a new world, Queen Asha. No more ruling from the heart as you have done. These lands will be ruled by skill.”

Jesah laughed when Asha only stared at him with anger burning in her eyes. His amusement triggered his soldiers into holding Renali and Asha prisoner. They dragged them out to the great room and the open doors that led to the front courtyard of their home.

Hours later, Asha watched her people walk in chains out of House Kezana. Her husband was wrapped in chains too, and she cried as she watched Bura soldiers drag him out with their people.

“You shall stay with me,” Jesah said, holding an intricate wrist cuff in his hand. He took Asha’s left arm and slipped the cuff on her wrist.

“You shall follow my orders if you want your people to live. Queen Asha, you are now a slave to Jesah of the Bura. All that you own is mine including your offspring. Speaking of children, where is your child?”

Asha chuckled and faced Jesah.

“You may have my body, you may have enslaved my soul in chains, but you will never see my child. She shall be your downfall, Jesah of Bura. Mark my words, it shall be so,” Asha said with the confidence born of months of planning for this very moment.

Jesah slapped her right cheek but she made no sound as she met his gaze with defiance. She would never tell him where her daughter was even if he threatened to kill her. She would die first.

****

Prologue (iv) | Table of Contents | Prologue (vi)