Murder's Eclipse: Tales of the Banished

By Katie Appenheimer

Chaos reigns as desperate invaders wreak havoc on a peaceful land. A simple farmer loses everything: his home, health, freedom, and most of all his family. After being saved from slavery he vows to rescue his wife and daughter. Fuelled by revenge and love the farmer embarks upon a journey into a land of magic that will change him forever. Constant hardships and moral dilemmas test his resolve and character. Will he ignore those who need his help? Can he betray friends who have aided him? Tempted with dark magic he has to make a choice. Meanwhile darkness has chosen him. Unknowingly hunted by the man responsible for his misery, the farmer is running out of time. Can he find a way to save them before it is too late? The Wishing Well can grant his wish, but at what cost? What is he willing to sacrifice to save what is his?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jul 17, 2015
• ISBN: 9781504922821

Katie Appenheimer

I grew up on a farm outside of the town of Toulon, Illinois—the kind of small, rambling town where everyone knows everyone else. Having earned a Bachelor of Science degree from Catawba College I established a career as a lab technician. I share my passion for the sciences as a Biology, Environmental, and Anatomy lab teacher. Assisting with a travelling Field Biology and Ecology course gives me yet another outlet to explore the natural world. Such travelling has enriched my life and provided much of the inspiration for my writing. When I am not working I like to stay active by exercising, hiking, swimming, and exploring waterfalls. However, I also appreciate the simple pleasures of reading on a rainy day and swinging in a hammock doing nothing but watch the day transpire on my green acres with my Sheltie, Neville, and two Himalayan cats.

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MURDER’S

ECLIPSE

TALES OF THE BANISHED

KATIE APPENHEIMER

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AuthorHouse™

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.authorhouse.com

Phone: [phone]

© 2015 Katie Appenheimer. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 07/16/2015

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015911145

ISBN: 978-1-5049-2270-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5049-2282-1 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty One

Epilogue

A telling of my adventures: real, exaggerated, and imagined.

With special thanks to Chris Baranski for so thoroughly proofreading my manuscript and providing invaluable feedback—and teaching me that an octopus can in fact walk on land!

Ryan Barber whose honest opinions helped me in every way. My motivation to share this story with him along with his constant support is what made this book a reality.

And Dolores Blackwelder for her sketches that made my characters come to life.

CHAPTER ONE

I n the meadow where wildflowers grow, tall emerald grass swayed in a sweet spring zephyr. The grass danced to the symphony of spring unaware that each blade was to be but a thread in the tapestry of an epic moment. A moment preserved by the immortality of a memory.

A boy ran in the fertile fields and sweeping hills of green and gold. He spent his days playing, working, and looking up to his elder siblings—and after the younger. Then something happened that would dictate the course of his life forever.

That was the day she moved in.

The sun burst from behind the clouds the exact moment he looked at her.

He only saw her from afar but he could tell she moved with the elegance of a dancer. Each footstep was delicately and deliberately placed in front of her petite frame. Shielding her eyes from the sun’s newfound brilliance she caught him watching her. Unsure of what else to do, he waved. She smiled at him. Her smile was the perfect smile of an angel. He sighed, and imagined she smelled like strawberries.

Some snickered because her family was different, foreigners to their customs, and other’s because of his own youth. Yet still Joffery declared to all who would lend an ear, That is the girl I will marry one day. To which most people cracked a humored grin and others would rumple the adolescent’s jet black hair.

~

She had never wanted to move. But a man with no wife and four daughters does what he must to support his family. So when her father came home with news that he was uprooting them all from their happy home in Forsk to move to Looia there was no choice in the matter.

What choice had he anyway?

A simple man who specialized in sheep shearing was obsolete here. But in Looia there was plenty of work to be had.

Tila, eldest of her sisters, took the news the hardest. It was her, after all, who remembered the most. She’d lived here all her life. Watched, as her family grew to four daughters and she remembered how it shrank. Her mother had such love and light in her eyes… A light that went out as Tila’s youngest sister entered the world.

Home wasn’t the only thing she’d left behind.

She learned of an unfortunate tradition of Looia: hair was kept short. Even the women.

How short?! She had asked her father. He didn’t answer, except to look down at the floor because he knew she wouldn’t like the answer. He then motioned to the barber to begin the deed, and then he paused in hesitant mercy.

No more than you have to. He declared, trying to spare his little girl.

Tila sat in horrified silence, white knuckles gripping the chair, as she saw locks of her hair falling to the ground. It was as if those snippets were extensions of her self being harbored within the locks. And now those pieces were gone forever. Even without a mirror she knew her tresses had vanished. Her ears seemed naked. Exposed. And her neck had never felt so cold. She did not fuss or visibly react because even as her own femininity fluttered away in the cold wind it was her sisters who would feel the callous bite of the shears next. She knew even in something as silly and seemingly trivial as hair she must be strong. She had to set an example for the little ones.

Ultimately the hardest part came in saying goodbye. It was a trial she’d been dreading for days. While her sisters were busy packing the last few items after a makeshift breakfast, Tila silently slunk away in the silky shadows of predawn light. She knew she must take full advantage of this borrowed pocket of time.

The long grass dampened her dress as she slipped through the pasture. She stopped only to open the gate of a small, square enclosure. The gate swung inward, the hinge squeaking quietly in protest. Not the call of cattle nor even a rooster’s crow sullied the mournful silence of her mother’s resting place. Unchecked tears streamed down her face as Tila knelt onto the freshly dewed earth and placed a shaky hand onto the smooth coolness of the headstone. Not even a name attested who this woman had been in life, and after they left this place none would remember her mother had ever been.

When she heard a sharp intake of breath behind her, Tila hurriedly tried to disguise the tears and wipe her nose before she slowly turned.

Oh Teels, you don’t always have to be so strong. Her father said while brushing a stray tear from her cheek. It is okay to cry sometimes.

He spoke with a strained voice and had red, liquid eyes. Tears had dammed up in the heavy creases of his careworn face.

I miss her too. He proclaimed.

At first she held her chin up in defiance of the impending tears but when she realized his sorrow mirrored her own she could not swallow the pain anymore. Her lower lip trembled. Tila’s face screwed up in uncontrollable sadness as she sought refuge in the harbor of his outstretched arms. They hugged each other close, rocking slowly back and forth in a tearful and final goodbye to her mother.

As they rode off Tila looked back one more time, took a lingering moment to drink in all of the details. One moment to hold the image that encompassed her whole lifetime.

Their simple home stood alongside three others. All were built backed up into a hill and had the same forward slanting roof. What set hers apart from the rest, other than the profound feeling of home, was the bright blue door. The womenfolk of the premises had convinced her father to paint it. And there was also her mother’s flowerbox built into the home. It was one of Tila’s first memories. Sitting outside, helping (more like observing) her mother plant flowers with the warm caress of the sun alighting on her skin. They were pansies: her mother’s favorite. Pansies could last through the frosts of the winter; they were tough like the people who eked out an existence here. Each year Tila had taken it upon herself to plant more. Now the hardy plants would face the fate of withering into nothingness: the last pansies of Hillside Row.

It was the last time she would see her home.

The first leg of the journey was nigh on unbearable. Her sisters cried and pouted while her father was emanating a false cheerfulness that fooled no one; meanwhile, the burden on her heart grew with each mile they passed. She looked mournfully about the landscape. The changing scenery made it all the more apparent that they were leaving home and not going back. A fact that was cemented the ominous moment they officially crossed the border into Looia.

The intermingled browns and tans of the rolling hills of her homeland gave way in subtle surrender to far reaching hills and narrow valleys. Everything was green. This world was shrouded in a green, blue, and gray haze, as if she were looking at everything through a melancholy veil covering all the eye can see.

Sheep indeed were plentiful here. She believed it would be impossible in these rural areas to turn a complete circle in any location and not see at least one sheep nestled into the hillside.

Even the earth under their feet changed. It grew lighter in hue and was embedded with an untold amount of rocks. This surplus resource was put to use. The houses were all made of stone and any fences that dared transect the towering jade, sheep laden domes were also made of stone.

Tila fervently wished she could be turned to stone. A lonely statue silhouetted in a forgotten corner of the world she could dwell on her sadness, or turn her feelings off completely.

It started to rain.

She stole a glance at her father, who always seemed to read her like a book.

Don’t worry Teels, he shook his head like a dog as the rain got harder, giving her a boyish grin. It always gets worse before it gets better.

He was right about that. Things continued to get worse. The rain was relentless. The only light at the end of the tunnel was when her father declared they’d arrived. Tila wasn’t necessarily happy they were here but all were grateful for the wearisome traveling to be over.

Their new house was stone with a thatched roof like the rest of the buildings here. But there was something special about it. Something they didn’t have in their humble home on Hillside Row. There were windows! A big one on the main floor and a porthole in the loft, from which you could see her fathers’ very own flock of sheep in a modest stable. The younger girls took turns looking at each other from opposite sides of the window making faces and giggling. Her father joined in the good-natured tom-foolery, his deep laughter echoing amidst the high pitched giggles and shrieks.

Tila looked at the sky and sighed. She figured she’d best start unloading before it rained again.

Grabbing her first armload she prepared to unpack. Placing each footstep with care, so to avoid the multitude of mud puddles, Tila plodded onward. Then, in a moment of unforeseen brilliance, the sun came out. Tila was previously unaware that the sun did in fact shine in this land.

It made all the difference in the world. The muted greens, grays, and blues no longer muddled together in a blurry haze. Each vibrant color stood out in an emerald, silver, and sapphire spectacle. She shielded her eyes as her vision took in the beauty.

Amidst it all she saw a boy, about her age, with dark hair, eyes as green as the land, and dirty scraped up knees. He was watching her. Embarrassed to be caught in the act the boy threw up his hand in greeting and shot her a lopsided grin. Suddenly the rainbow of sparkling colors around Tila seemed to diminish; they were all somehow second best when compared to the twinkle of his eyes. For the first time in a long time Tila felt rejuvenated, like the lightness of his eyes brightened every dark corner within her soul. And she smiled at him, hope and happiness dwelling within her once again.

~

It didn’t take Joffery long to come up with ways to go visit the mystery girl. He covered his tracks with flimsy excuses of, Went to tend to the sheep and goats or, Water the garden, yet somehow; quite suspiciously, these chores took a lot longer than normal. And despite making excuses to trek down the road and over the hills to her home it took days for Joffery to work up the nerve to speak to her.

She was usually surrounded by a flock of little sisters. He didn’t know why they always had to giggle, but he knew sisters were always in the way and when you wanted them to leave they were harder to shake than a shadow. Having two younger sisters himself, Joffery was an expert on the matter. As tricky as maneuvering around little sisters could be fathers were worse. Mr. Trent Wool was a bear of a man and despite local claims that he seemed a decent sort of fellow Joffery knew that men could completely change demeanor, and if needed grow at least a foot, where their daughters were concerned.

Joffery might not have admitted to being afraid… but he thought it best to avoid Mr. Wool. At least for now. Unless he suddenly acquired a death wish.

One day his patience eventually paid off. After having spent the better part of an hour watching the sheep rummage through choice grazing on the hillside, which was pleasant enough as long as they didn’t look at him (the rectangular shape of their pupils for some reason always creeped him out), he had his opportunity.

She left the house with an empty bucket in each hand. The closest watering hole was a stream not quite a mile away. Joffery knew a short cut so he sprinted off down the path to lay in wait.

With the grace of a cat the girl descended the last hill. Her small petite body and ivory colored skin reminded Joffery of his sister’s fine porcelain doll. He actually wondered if she might break. Her shapely lips were firmly pressed together and slightly upturned at the corners as she hummed a pleasant tune. Joffery waited until she was at the river’s edge.

Do you need help? He called out to her making himself visible at last. She turned a pair of big, doe eyes up at him. They were a deep shade of brown and slightly liquid. It was like looking into twin pools of liquid mahogany.

Sure, her melodic voice returned, and there was that smile again.

I’m… Joffery, he stammered, quite forgetting to speak when he noticed that in the sunshine her hair gleamed in shiny auburn hues contrasting with the rich, dark of the layers beneath.

Tila, she answered shyly, still smiling that sweet smile.

At least now he knew her name.

They filled the buckets of water and continued on in amicable silence, Joffery insisting on carrying both buckets back. Joffery noticed her watching a tiger swallowtail feeding on a purple hyacinth. Its wings fluttered and fanned out while it indulged in the sweet nectar.

You like butterflies? He asked her.

Tila nodded. Oh, yes.

Then come with me I have something to show you! Joffery said putting the buckets down and heading the opposite direction.

Tila hesitated for a moment, then she ran after him with such reckless abandon Joffery had to hurry to keep up with her. Joffery ran back to the stream and through the deeper and more slippery sections. He took her to a long, low meadow in a valley dotted with a kaleidoscope of reds, yellows, and oranges.

She gasped I have never seen so many tulips before!

Joffery smiled, his green eyes twinkling. That is not why I brought you here.

No? She asked frowning in confusion. Then what?

Just wait. Joffery answered, humored by her impatience. They sat in the grass lying in wait. He knew they would come soon.

And they waited. He hoped they would come soon, but it seemed as if Mother Nature wanted to prove she was unpredictable, or perhaps got some sick pleasure out of embarrassing Joffery in front of his dream girl. His stomach clenched. His nerves made him jittery.

Tila started getting ancy. She shifted her body and started nibbling at her fingernails.

The wait just served to make it all the more dramatic when it finally happened. Joffery saw it first because he knew what he was looking for. He took advantage of the opportunity to lean in closer to Tila (who he decided smelled more like sunshine after a spring rain than strawberries) to show her the reason he’d brought her here.

The flutterbies came, as the name suggests, fluttering by on their own languid pace, wafting in as smoothly and surely as a cloud in the sky. Flutterbies were three to four times bigger than their butterfly cousins. They were more vibrantly and elaborately colored as well. Foreigners visiting this land in the spring always made viewing them a top priority and gushed about them after their encounter.

But now, as he watched Tila’s awed reaction, he’d realized he’d taken them for granted. It was inspiring to see the treasures you never knew that you’d already possessed through someone else’s eyes.

They are beautiful! She stated breathlessly looking all about her in awestruck wonder. Some were blue, others orange, and he believed he saw a pink one in particular hold her attention.

I thought you might like it, Joffery said, relieved they had finally shown up.

Like it? She turned to look at him. Her eyes were opened in astonishment and her face held pure joy. It’s amazing!

He looked down sheepishly. Joffery didn’t know whether to feel pride in his accomplishment or melt into a puddle from the look of admiration she gave him. So instead of pride or puddle he managed to continue being a spectator with her and watch the flutterbies float through the meadow like so many fluttering pieces of a shattered rainbow.

Afterwards they lay in the aftermath to marvel at the experience. Joffery had seen flutterbies all his life, but now he felt like he had never truly seen them until sharing them with Tila. The sun continued to creep ever higher in the sky.

Same time tomorrow? He asked turning to her.

Tila pursed her lips to the left as she thought. Okay, but I need to hurry home now. Apparently she’d been watching the sun’s progress in the sky too.

So they made a quick retreat back across the meadow and through the stream to where he’d hastily deposited the buckets and helped her get home.

Bye! Her gentle voice rang out.

See ya.

She smiled one last time in departure sending his insides spiraling once more. How could one person make him feel so comfortable and so sick simultaneously? Spending time with her in the meadow came as easily and sweet as drinking a glass of cold lemonade on a hot summer day, but when she looked at him… He had no defenses for those big eyes or angelic smile.

He made his own way back home knowing he’d have to do his chores in double time if he was to save himself from a tongue lashing, though he couldn’t help but smile in satisfaction: it was worth it.

Joffery lived in one of the nicer houses in the area. The stones were finely mortared together and smoothed out, there were two chimneys (one at either end), plenty of windows, and two floors. But then again with seven children, his parents, and grandmother all living in the house it never seemed that big.

Joffery Paul Alpen!

Uh oh. Everyone knows when your mother calls you by your full name it means trouble. He turned very slowly trying not to look guilty.

Where have you been this morning? She looked him square in the eyes; her brows raised waiting for an answer.

Um, just down the hill. I’ll get to my chores right away. He tried to sneak away after that vague explanation.

Ahem. She cleared her throat. Not so fast mister. What were you doing ‘down the hill’?

He knew it was best not to lie, it wasn’t right and mothers always tended to find out anyway…he just wasn’t sure how much of the truth to tell.

I was helping the new neighbor girl carry water.

Her demeanor changed. A smile from just one corner of her mouth chased away the stern look from his mother’s face.

Ah, I see. Must be one of Trent’s daughters. And what is this new neighbor girl’s name?

Tila. Joffery tried not to swoon at the name but he knew his mother wasn’t fooled.

She smiled a knowing smile. Well you had better work fast and hard to get your chores done.

Yes ma’am. He nodded eagerly and started to leave, grateful for her mercy.

And Joffery…

Now what? He wondered stopping dead in his tracks. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy.

You may continue to help her carry water, but not on mornings your father needs your help. And unless you want your brothers to tease you, or your younger sisters to tag-along, I’d be a little less obvious about disappearing to the Wool’s.

She paused then smiled, Maybe you should go out the back.

He grinned at her, his eyes twinkling, and nodded. Dashing out the door he couldn’t help but think he had the greatest mother in the world.

It was easy doing his chores that day because he got to relive his morning experience. Even through the rain his spirits were buoyed by his anticipation of seeing Tila again.

Joffery got a late start that morning because he waited for his brothers to be fully immersed in breakfast before slipping out the back. But when he got to the stream there was no sign of Tila. Holding on to a thread of hope Joffery crossed the stream and headed to the meadow. There she was. Already entranced in the colorful display.

There you are! He said announcing his presence.

She looked up at his voice.

I’m sorry were we supposed to meet at the stream? Neither of us specified and when you didn’t show up I thought I’d try here. I’m sorry I should have wait—

Joffery held up his hand cutting her apologetic rant short.

Here is perfectly fine. He assured her. It can be our place.

Then his cheeks turned slightly pink when he realized how forward that sounded.

Here it is, she agreed.

But I won’t be able to come every morning. Sometimes my father needs me.

I understand, she said with a slight air of disappointment (or was he imagining it?). I will tarry here for a while just the same. It is a good place she said looking around.

Joffery looked around too, noticing the clouds had taken on an air of animosity.

Then the inevitable happened. More rain. It began with a light sprinkle pitter-pattering on the surface of the valley, rapidly increasing to an inescapable splashing upon their heads. Joffery grabbed Tila’s hand.

Come on.

He led her to a spot he’d discovered with his siblings. He found the tiny cave after only a couple of misguided tries. It was little more than a neglected hole within folds of the hills—an alcove that would only be capable of harboring two people comfortably. But since there were only two of them and it was dry, the location was perfect.

It rains a lot here. Tila observed huddling in the earthen shelter.

That is how it stays so green! My parents often consider leaving me out on days like this.

Whyever would they do that? She asked quizzically her brows furrowing in confusion at the odd remark.

So I’ll grow! Joffery laughed good naturedly. But it is no good I doubt there is much growing left for me to do.

It is too bad rain doesn’t make one grow. Agreed Tila. I could have gained several inches from the journey here alone. She said wistfully.

You want to be tall?

She nodded emphatically.

Why? Joffery asked incredulously. The idea that something about her wasn’t perfect baffled him.

"I would love to