Jada: Mountain Warrior

By Shane Pinnegar

Jada is a courageous tweenaged warrior-in-training and unicorn herder. When she and her clan are attacked by monsters atop the mountain where they live, she must learn great courage to protect her family and their unicorn herd.

If she is to defeat their attackers, Jada will need to draw on her mother and father’s wisdom and leadership, as well as new-found magical powers she doesn’t yet understand. As Jada goes into battle she discovers that in sacrifice and selflessness can be found great power.

She is given strength in this adventure by the return of her ‘imaginary’ childhood friend Bando, and the special bond she shares with a unique unicorn named Baby.

Early reviews have called the book “gripping,” “un-put-down-able,” “fantastic and uplifting,” and “so good it made me cry.”

The exciting debut novel from Australian author Shane Pinnegar, Jada: Mountain Warrior is a positive and uplifting fantasy adventure full of action and some fundamental positive messages about finding oneself and finding courage, with a little help from those we care about.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bark Side Books
• Release date: Jan 10, 2021
• ISBN: 9780648576846

Book preview

Chapter 1 – We meet our hero as she prepares for an attack

Music emanated from the dense forest, quietly at first, then growing louder as it blew on the cool, gentle breeze. The enchanted singing wafted into Jada’s ears, a beguiling and hypnotic invitation to the girl to stop what she was doing - feeding the unicorns – and follow the sound to its source.

The young girl knew better than that. As with all of her clan, she had been taught from infancy to resist the spell. She immediately began humming a tune to herself to drown out the bewitching melody, and let her pitchfork fall gently against the wooden fence of the corral.

Hurriedly reaching into her pocket she extracted two of the earplugs which all of her clan carried at all times to further resist the spell of the harpy song. With a well-practised shake and backward flick of her head, the wavy blonde-brown hair that cascaded halfway down her back moved away from her ears, and she inserted the plugs firmly, ensuring the spell would not be able to entrance her.

Henna strode hurriedly towards her from the other side of the shack, leant close to her ear and asked loudly, can you hear that, Jada?

I could, Henna, she confirmed with an assured smile, but not any more.

Made mostly of resin from the tall pine trees which made up the thick forest, the earplugs blocked out practically all background noise and only allowed conversation at very close quarters, so Henna simply gestured for Jada to follow her.

Jada had almost finished feeding the herd, so she raised her index finger to Henna to tell her she would be one moment, took the pitchfork in her hands again and quickly used it to scatter a little more of the fluffy cottongrass which the animals preferred as their staple diet. The bright cream-coloured cottongrass flowers – each one the size of Jada’s bunched fist at the end of a long, thin stalk - only grew in the highest parts of the mountain, so the animals were herded up there for as much of the year as the weather would allow.

Again Jada rested the pitchfork against the fence, then joined Henna at the porch of the ramshackle stone and wood shack near the unicorn pen. A rickety old, weathered table stood on the porch, upon which they had meticulously laid out their weapons that morning in readiness, as they did every day.

Jada had gone about her chores with her razor sharp dagger in its scabbard on her right hip. As much as she loved tending to the unicorns atop the mountain, she knew that it was a dangerous place and she should never allow herself to be unarmed.

She latched her thick leather sword belt around her waist, letting the sword hang to her left, the opposite side to the dagger she already wore. She then slung her quiver of arrows and then her bow across alternate shoulders. Henna favoured a battleaxe and crossbow, and readied them while both braced themselves for what they knew was coming.

Jada had had a fitful night’s sleep - she had dreamt that the harpies would attack today, and had told Henna as much when they woke. Henna knew Jada’s dreams were almost never wrong - but even if she hadn’t, it was normal for herders like them to dress in their battle armour while they toiled each day. Being on the top of the mountain left them exposed to attack from all sides, and minor skirmishes occurred regularly.

Jada was eleven years old – twelve in less than three weeks – and this was her first time tending the herd on the mountaintop. Each of the younger warriors-in-training would spend at least two weeks tending the herd every summer, accompanied by one or two older members of the clan. It was unusual for anyone so young to be sent up the mountain, but Jada had insisted for months that she was ready, and finally her father had given in to her.

Now, with an attack likely, she had to admit – to herself at least – that despite still feeling ready to be there, she was very nervous. Having the older, more experienced Henna there to help and protect her was tremendously reassuring and helped her to remain calm.

The eight days they had spent so far at the mountaintop had been - despite her nervousness – very enjoyable, though tiring. Jada had no fear of the solitude: she enjoyed her own company, got on well with Henna, and loved spending time with the unicorns.

She would wile away the days talking animatedly with the unicorns while tending to them, singing and creating wonderful, exciting stories of adventure that she planned to later entertain her younger twin brothers with.

As well as tending to the herd, Jada was expected to continue with her studies and training, so over a light breakfast earlier that day Henna had told her stories of her clan’s ancestors, which always enthralled her. Jada was particularly fascinated by tales of heroic deeds and bold adventures, and of course cheered when the heroes of the stories were victorious.

After studying for an hour, Henna had instructed Jada go through some exercises in swordplay, deliberately pushing the girl hard. Jada assumed her father had given Henna instructions to take her training up a level, and she felt weary at the thought of another session that afternoon.

She checked her armour and weapons one more time, then presented herself to Henna, who checked her again. When the older woman nodded her approval, Jada took a deep breath and reminded herself that she knew how to use the bow and sword as well as anyone her age – and better, even, than a few of the more experienced warriors in her clan.

She was nervous only because she lacked battle experience. Her father always told her, there is a big difference between practicing, and battling an enemy who really wants to kill you.

Well, she thought to herself – there’s only one way to GET experience, and she had never been reticent in throwing herself into new challenges.

She was clad in a chainmail tunic that had an X daubed on the front in red paint, the sign of her clan, and wore leggings of a thick khaki material. Her feet wore soft unicorn leather boots that were pliable enough for her to run in, yet sturdy enough to allow her to walk over jagged, rocky terrain and keep her feet warm when the snows came. Thankfully, although it was already mid-Autumn, the weather was still mild, but the nights were getting colder and it would not be too long before the clan would need to escort the herd down the mountain, as they did every year when the snow began to fall.

Around Jada’s wrist was a silver bracelet with a circular vortex design, and a similar silver band sat around her forehead, just under her golden-brown fringe. When she moved her fringe danced above her piercing green eyes and the light smattering of freckles on her nose. Above the freckles, if anyone looked closely enough, they could see a short scar across the bridge of her nose, which she received when she wriggled out of her father’s arms and fell to the ground as a baby.

Her father joked that the incident was Jada’s first battle – which she lost – but was always quick to add how proud he was that it did not inhibit her restless search for adventure in the slightest.

Jada scanned the skies past the modest, rectangular shack, but could see no sign of danger.

The shack was built flush against a rocky abutment from which a stream trickled gently down. The rocks barely obstructed a view in every direction of the only world Jada had ever known.

The abutment was sheer and jagged on its opposite side, where the mountain fell away to a near-vertical cliff.

She turned and joined Henna in surveying the lush, grassy mountaintop plain. Ahead of the dwelling and to its right was the holding pen for the herd, 170 yards square, with about 20 yards on either side to the edges of the cliff.

On the opposite side of the holding pen the grass started to incline downwards gradually for almost 50 yards, to where a bright crop of cottongrass was in full bloom next to a smattering of wild herbs and vegetables which had been teased into a garden of sorts. Further on was the tree line of the forest, which stretched on and down the gradual incline of the mountain for half a mile before it, too, fell away to a jagged and perilous cliff.

Jada and Henna stood on the narrow porch and surveyed the skyline beyond the forest. The views of mountaintop after mountaintop to the horizon on all sides never failed to take Jada’s breath away. Their peaks, the tallest already topped with pure white snow or obscured by clouds, sliced upwards through the sky: jagged, grey rocky cliffs with sporadic bursts of green where foliage grew, or dots of colour where flowers bloomed.

It really was a magnificent and magical place, and she was extremely glad that she was up here during the warmer months, when she could see most of the way to the horizon. For nearly six months of each year thick snow gripped tightly to the sides of the mountains, and a blanket of white haze and cloud obscured the view, creating the effect that the top of their mountain was isolated in the world and they were completely alone. The bad weather alone made climbing to the mountaintop nigh on impossible once winter held it in its grasp.

Jada would often gaze at the mountains on all sides and wonder what else was out there. Was it the same as here: another village, another clan, another herd? None of her clan had ever ventured off the mountain, as far as she knew. She secretly wished she could be the first, and would imagine fantastical adventures she might experience when she was older.

The natural stream which gurgled from the rocky abutment cut a foot-wide gouge across the plain, running along the far edge of the unicorn pen before it wound its way past the tree line and was swallowed by the forest. The stream ensured that the animals and their herders had all the fresh water they needed.

To the left of the shack, just past the corner of the pen, was an ancient fire circle, a place where clan members had sat and cooked and eaten and talked for generations. The sunken pit was blackened by thousands of fires, and surrounded by tree stumps, boulders and logs which had been worn smooth by countless warriors using them as seats for hundreds of years.

To the other side of the fire pit stood a hillock topped with a three-quarter circle rampart of grass and rocks. Originally built as a lookout, over many years it had grown over with grass and become part of the landscape.

Beyond the lookout was the one real track down the mountain, which wound slowly down to Jada’s village. This was the only way the unicorns could get up or down the mountain, but Jada’s people would more often than not scale directly up the mountainside using their excellent climbing skills far quicker than walking up the winding trail.

Jada tore herself away from the view as Henna tapped her shoulder. Petite and inexperienced, Jada couldn’t help but feel awkward next to Henna, who was above average height, muscular and confidently composed.

Jada wasn’t even close to as tall as Henna’s shoulders, and longed for a growth spurt. Looking up at the older warrior, Jada could see that Henna’s jaw was squared determinedly, framed by her own helmet, which obscured most of her shorter, barely shoulder-length strawberry blonde hair. She was clad similarly to Jada and her blue eyes darted this way and that as she tried to sense which direction the attack would come from.

Henna signalled for Jada to follow her, and together they climbed up the hillock and took position in this semi-natural vantage point, surveying the herd of unicorns thirty-seven strong beneath them. The unicorns were unaffected by the magical song - as Jada well knew, the harpies’ song only drew humans to their doom, not animals.

Following Henna’s lead, Jada readied her bow and watched, and waited, feeling her nervousness growing.

As the unicorns grazed on the cottongrass, a few of them watched Jada cautiously. Although she stood only a little more than half as tall as the adult animals, the magnificent beasts respected her and usually obeyed her commands. It had been this way ever since Jada was an infant – she and the unicorns shared a special, preternatural bond that neither she nor any of her clans-people could explain.

It was this uncanny ability to empathise with animals, and her prescient dreams, which made some of her clans-people avoid contact with her. She often felt they were looking at her awkwardly, a look which would make Jada uneasy – as if they were waiting for her to do something, but she knew not what.

Jada’s parents always told her not to worry about what other people thought or did. That she was gifted to have dreams that told of events still to pass, and that her bond with animals was something to be treasured, not feared. She always felt reassured by her parents’ warm words and warmer arms, and they always made her concern about being different evaporate. She shuddered nervously and thought how much she’d appreciate one of their loving embraces right now.

Despite Jada’s nerves, she and Henna barely moved as they waited patiently for the attack. Jada had trained to be battle-ready for the past couple of months. Although nothing could fully prepare anyone for their first real, live attack, she knew she had the skills to defend herself, as long as her nerves held out. She breathed deeply, her hands shaking.

Finally, after more than twenty minutes, they came – three harpies. Jada had seen the creatures several times before – even been attacked by one in her village - but she had never fought them, and their monstrous visage sent a chill through her.

Chapter 2 – Harpies attack

From a distance the three harpies looked like the mighty Amazon women she had heard of in legends. Clad in next-to-no armour, with great wings upon their backs carrying them through the sky as gracefully as the mightiest eagle, their lower legs below the knees were feather and talons, like those of a bird, whilst the rest of them were identical to any lithe and muscular human woman.

Up close the differences became more pronounced: they were dirty, their hair tangled and unkempt, their brown and black feathers