Beyond the Shores

By Stephanie J Cress

Suffolk healer, Gilwin travels to the coastal country of Carrow on a mysterious journey. He finds himself caught up in Carrow’s fight for independence, and alongside a half-breed mercenary, Adarran, and a pair of diplomat daughters, Sialla and Rilyn, who are searching for, Teryx, the rebels’ notorious leader. When the rebellion strikes, Gilwin, and his companions must decide if war is the only answer. If it is, does it mean that all of Carrow will burn?

• Language: English
• Publisher: NewLink Publishing
• Release date: Apr 15, 2021
• ISBN: 9781948266208

Stephanie J Cress

Stephanie J. Press has lived in a fantasy world for as long as she can remember. From an early age, she told herself stories to help her sleep and to keep herself entertained on long rides across the country (and as an Army brat, those happened a lot). In 2001, she received her bachelor’s degree in geology, but it wasn’t until the 2007 NaNoWriMo challenge she put those skills together to create the people and the landscape of Gilded Shadows. It is now the first of a five-book series titled, The Elements Of Discord.She lives in Northern Arizona with her Siamese cat, Jack

Book preview

Chapter One

Astill had a long way to go. It’s only early autumn. Please let Carrow be free of snow until I can get inside somewhere. I never knew the world could be this cold.

He had left the pony with the last inn before beginning up the pass. The hardy little creature might be able to trek from one side of the desert to the other, but it would likely die of shock from this climate change. To be fair, he might, too, but this was his obsession. Their obsession—Dela’s and his. And after almost thirty years of studying, interviewing, and tracking down barely legible books that no one cared about anymore, the culmination was within sight.

It only took a nudge in the right direction and Governor Sarret Cordalis decided it would be in the best interest of both Carrow and Old Dominion to send his daughters as diplomatic envoys to negotiate an end to the civil war here. Gilwin had never met either of the girls, but he knew them by reputation. If anyone could accomplish this task it would be them. They knew their job.

And maybe I can help, too. Although if half of what I’ve heard about Carrow’s lord is true, I’d be better off finding somewhere else frigid gust of wind funneled down the mountain pass, reminding Gilwin that he to stay. He sighed. Thanks to a letter sent ahead by Sarret, Lord Shanallen’s keep expected their new healer. Besides—he squinted at the sky through the layers of scarves wrapped around his face—night would fall soon, and with it, the temperature. He didn’t have directions to anywhere else.

He knew Carrow’s lord solely by his brutal reputation. The man had been sent far from the non-human races for a reason.

The man wouldn’t hurt a healer, Sarret said. Such a weak assurance when he couldn’t hide his concern, at least not from someone with Gilwin’s training.

The wind died to a momentary standstill. He peered into the hazy distance. His destination loomed like a sentinel at the end of the mountain pass.

Gilwin snorted. He could handle Governor Cordalis’s racist cousin. With his–and Dela’s–goal in sight, he didn’t have any choice but to wade into Carrow’s civil war.

I’ll be fine. I hope Sarret’s girls are, too.

Chapter Two

Do you think it'll snow?" Sialla looked at the sky.

Sialla, her sister Rilyn said, I have no idea.

Dead grass crackled underfoot as Sialla slid from the bench of their cart onto the ground. She gazed again at the pewter sky and hugged the heavy coat tighter against her chest. The innkeeper at their last stop said it looked like snow.

Their escort, a man on loan from Carrow's Lord Shanallen, took her sister by the hand and helped her down. Not a speck of dust showed on Rilyn's fine wool coat or on the supple leather of her boots and gloves. In contrast, Sialla stood bundled in layers of mismatched wool and an oversized knit hat.

Wait here, Rilyn told the man. We can find the Captain.

Sialla trotted after her sister, striding through trees to the edge of a campsite. Half a dozen large tents made of stiff, clean canvas stood in a semi-circle around a large fire pit. A seventh tent, twice the size of the others, stood nearest to them. As she caught up to Rilyn, someone said.

You're the ones who sent the message.

And you must be Adarran, said Rilyn.

Shivering inwardly, Sialla couldn’t help but stare at him, the only mixed Seafolk in existence. Why is he not even wearing a shirt? Or shoes. His casual dress paled in comparison to what she could only assume were the cultural aspects of his Seafolk kin. Intricate scarring–what appeared to be deliberate–traced patterns across his chest and arms, standing out in stark relief against his oddly blue-green-tinged skin. He had bone pierced through his ears, one eyebrow and, she cringed, through both nipples. A single black pearl was also nestled in one earlobe.

His eyes met hers and she looked away, heat rising to her face beneath the woolen scarf. I'm supposed to be better than that—staring like some kind of uncultured child. But she had never seen anything like him.

I got your message, he said, turning to Rilyn. You do know who you're asking us to find, right?

Does that matter? Rilyn raised one elegant eyebrow.

Just the price. Heroes are harder to catch.

Only the briefest clenching of her jaw betrayed Rilyn as they haggled at the cost.

Sialla listened to their conversation with half an ear, surveying the much more interesting campsite. These are mercenaries? You'd think there would be more...action.

The men went about their business, cooking, talking, lounging around a merry fire. A couple of them glanced over at the two women, squinting and shielding their eyes. Sialla waved but they had already turned away, laughing. She took a step toward them, but a hand caught her by the elbow.

Really, Sia? Rilyn said.

Really. Sialla shook her sister's hand off, but Rilyn hooked her elbow and spun the two of them back toward the road.

Sighing, Rilyn fought to keep a dignified pace. I suppose you would rather stay and have dinner with them?

The fire looked warm. She grinned. And the captain did look...intriguing.

Their escort helped Rilyn back onto the cart's bench. Sialla clambered up the other side. The cart lurched forward.

So, Rilyn said, he took the amount we expected him to take. He balked at the ‘half now, half upon completion’ part of it, but that was to be expected. What was your impression? She held up a hand. Aside from the ‘intriguing’ captain.

They’re desperate.

Rilyn nodded. I got that, as well. How so?

Well, the tents looked brand new, yet they appeared comfortable with each other, as if they had been together for a long time. So they must have suffered a recent loss. Also, there didn’t seem to be as many of them as we were led to believe. She cocked her head. Could they still do the job?

The captain assured me that he could do it alone if necessary.

I bet he could. Sialla’s words made Rilyn chuckle.

His arrogance was difficult to miss, but from what I am told, it’s well deserved.

The cart bounced south in silence for a while. The dense forest to their right drew farther from the road and, to the left, rocky plains dominated. Sialla rose from her seat, rocking the entire vehicle. Rilyn snatched her elbow, pulling her back down.

You'll get us all killed, Sialla.

You worry too much, Ri. She sat straight as possible, staring east and straining her ears until... There it is! Can you hear it?

No, Sialla.

I do. She breathed deep. And I can smell it, too. The sea is so close. Can’t we just stop for a brief–

No, Sialla.

But I've never seen—

The sea is indeed quite close, their driver said, but the cliffs are very high and crumbling. It wouldn’t be safe.

I just wanted to look.

We don’t have time, Sialla. It will be dark soon and… she stared pointedly at Sialla's thick layers of clothes, …much colder.

I suppose you're right.

Come on, Sia. Rilyn squeezed her sister’s mittened-hand. I know there are all sorts of ‘intriguing’ people to talk to at the inn around a nice, warm fire.

Sialla’s eyes remained trained on the eastern horizon, but she nodded. Yes, they still had much to learn about Carrow and its people. Perhaps even put an end to their civil war while they were at it.

Chapter Three

Gilwin crouched beside the tiny fireplace in his tower room, a map of Carrow laid out beside him. His personal reasons behind this trip lay forgotten.

Sighing, he gazed out the narrow window at the deepening violet sky. He rose to his feet. Time to do some exploring…and find out what kind of action he needed to take.

He dressed with careful deliberation, allowing time for full darkness to fall before he slipped out of his room and descended the narrow spiral staircase to the ground floor. Keeping out of sight was easy. This wing of the keep lay deathly silent, but he kept to the shadows anyway. A pair of guttering torches guided him to the other end of the hallway and what he assumed would be a more populated area.

Word had it that the man had his patrols coming and going night and day. They had to be somewhere.

Laughing male voices bounced off the walls behind him. He pressed his back against the wall, feeling for some kind of nook or alcove to duck into. Dammit! Where did they come from?

He wasn’t barred from wandering the keep, exactly, but he would rather not have to explain himself. Though their meeting had been brief and stilted, Gilwin could easily tell that he was not welcome here. But more than that, without a doubt, the man was hiding something. Something big.

A click, softer than a sigh, and a narrow section of wall slid open. He slipped through. Another click and his exit sealed.

Forward then.

Adarran stood at the cliff’s edge, straining to see beyond the sea’s expanse to the tiny islands that lay in the distance. On clear days, he liked to imagine he could spot their vague shapes.

Two more men had left last night. They had been new additions, but he hadn’t known he had taken on such patriots. Most men came to fight with him based on his reputation, but they stayed for the pay. Apparently, that wasn't enough to hunt down a hero. Even as far north as he and the men had been lately, they still knew of Teryx Clariot, the elusive head of Carrow’s resistance against Old Dominion’s governance.

It doesn’t matter. I can do this myself if I have to. His fists clenched at his sides. Eleven years. Eleven long years since his father’s people had all but exiled him to the land for his own good.

Running footsteps crunched in the dirt behind him. He turned just enough to see a man out of the corner of his eye. Yes, Bren?

Message arrived just now. The young man handed him a rolled-up parchment.

Adarran scanned the writing, his brow furrowing. What happened? Could it be… He shook his head. Whatever it was, he needed to go. Now.

Bren, you know where to meet in Felicity’s Veil tomorrow. Tell the men I’ll meet you all east of town at dawn.

Yes, sir.

Adarran took off at a run.

Chapter Four

Sialla sank down into the wooden chair with exaggerated care. A brimming mug of Carrow's finest peach wine–her third since arriving at the inn–sloshed slightly. Narrowed eyes peered back over her shoulder at the bar. Two uniformed men spoke in hushed, intense tones with the innkeeper. Sialla couldn’t hear their conversation, but their body language held an obvious threat. I should do something, she muttered. With a steadying grasp on the table’s edge, she pulled herself back upright.

Sialla. The effortless command in her sister’s voice held her in place.

But, Ri, we have only just arrived and know nothing of the details here. Also… the corner of her mouth twitched up into a ghost of a smirk, …you’re not really in much of a condition to negotiate with anyone.

Sialla sighed and the weight in her chest sank lower. She lifted the mug to her lips, inhaling deeply before she drank. Carrow really did produce the best wines and even though she’d had them back in Old Dominion, there was something to be said for experiencing it fresh.

Excuse me.

The oddly slurred voice came from behind her. Sialla twisted around to find a petite, middle-aged blond woman watching her sister expectantly.

Rilyn looked up. Hello, is there something we can help you with?

Have a seat, Sialla added, almost knocking her wine over with an accompanying gesture. She gasped and grasped it with both hands as it wobbled.

The woman paid her no attention and continued to stare at Rilyn, her hands clasped tightly before her. You are here from Old Dominion?

Yes, Rilyn said.

I would like to travel there with you when you return.

Oh! Sialla said. You can—

Rilyn held up a hand. I understand your desire to flee this land, but we aren’t exactly leaving soon.

Thank you. I have family there, the woman said. Folks I haven’t seen for many years.

Well…we’ll be here for a few more days, at least—probably more.

All right. My name is Tamrin and, I suppose, I'll be staying here for a few days, too.

The woman still held her hands clasped before her as she turned to leave. That stance and the slurred voice tugged at Sialla’s foggy brain.

Behind her, the inn’s door creaked open. Rilyn sat up straighter and Sialla turned to look, too. Captain Adarran stood at the door, scanning the patrons. His eyes stopped briefly at the sisters before moving on.

Tamrin waved at him and he joined her, taking her by the elbow and leading her toward the rooms upstairs. Neither spoke but Sialla saw both of them gesturing rapidly as they disappeared up the stairs.

Realization struck her. She’s deaf!

Yes, dear, I noticed.

Sialla swallowed another gulp of wine. Maybe she can teach me her language when we all go back home.

Rilyn just shook her head at this and turned back to her reading. And don't you go following him up there, either.

Of course not. Even with her palms flat on the table Sialla swayed on her feet. That would be rude! I was just going to um.... Her eyes alighted on the wine. She picked it up with a flourish, splashing its remaining drops onto the table. I was just getting some more wine. She looked back at the empty stairs. He’s the only one of his kind, Ri. Think of the stories he must— Her foot caught in the leg of the chair mid-spin and sent her sprawling onto her back. The raw, wooden beams of the inn’s roof spun back and forth high above her until Rilyn’s amused face floated into view.

Are you all right?

Sitting up slowly, Sialla rubbed her head. She met her sister’s eyes again and broke out into laughter. They have good wine here!

Rilyn shook her head and reached a hand down. So you’ve said. She pulled Sialla back onto her feet, leading her to the stairs. Come on. Let's get you up to your room to rest a while.

I suppose... Sialla put an arm around her sister’s shoulders. At the top of the stairs she said, Say, d’you know, I figured out who that woman was. It’s his mother. Captain Adarran’s mother.

They stopped at Sialla’s inn room door. With her hand on the door latch, Rilyn turned to her sister. Really?

Ya. The vigorous head nodding made the world spin again, so she stopped. I read about that before we left home. It’s the only Seafolk lore there is, really. That’s why I have to talk to him.

Inside the room, Sialla sat down on the bed and pulled her boots off.

Promise me you’ll stay in bed and not go bothering the captain and his mother?

Sialla sank down into the mattress and closed her eyes. Nah, I don't wanna get up.

Good, because he also has a job to do. I'll be downstairs a little longer, but I believe I'll be turning in soon, too. Good night, Sialla.

Mm. Sleep tugged at her, but something occurred to her. Ri?

Yes?

She smiled, watching her sister’s outline in the doorway. I love you, Ri.

I’ll see you in the morning, Sialla. Rilyn laughed and closed the door.

No, Sialla whispered to the empty room. I have somewhere else to be.

Chapter Five

It couldn't be. Not after all this time.

he signed to her. It felt good to speak with his hands again. Though it made trouble with his Seafolk kin, speaking aloud often felt forced to him.

his mother said with her hands.

He could hardly believe it. Eleven years ago, a near-death experience had opened the Seafolks’ eyes to the danger Adarran faced among them. They claimed he was too important and that they could not risk losing him. Though he fought their solution, the clan elders had as good as banished him. On land, he would be safer, they said.

And the land was safe, laughably so. Still, he had found jobs as a mercenary, on his own. He started small, traveling with traders to the northern parts of Carrow. In the north, Carrow’s undefined boundary clashed with the roaming clans of barbarians. To the west of them, lay the borders of what everyone called The Northern Empire. It was a mercenary’s dream. Over the course of the years, the jobs he took got harder, but the money got better. His reputation grew. Soon other mercenaries or those looking to become one, came to him, asking to join. Up until this civil war, more than twenty men followed his lead. Now he had twelve. Had the Seafolk finally caught wind of his successes? Why else would they summon me?

His opinion