The Sea Queen

By TM Watkins

When Terreck finds a mysterious woman on the beach in south Indren, barely out of the water, he takes her to the monastery where he is staying. One little clue will give Terreck insight into her identity, a necklace with the word Salanas inscribed on the back. He knows what the octopus on the pendant means, he knows the trouble she could cause him.

Terreck is a lost soul. His mind rages with the memories of a war against the orcs in Metarn and a monster that haunts his days and nights. All he wants is to find inner peace and after fleeing his home, Terreck wanders the land in search of a shred of tranquility. He finds himself in a little monastery by the beach, slowly clawing his way back to the light.

Despite the thoughts and fears, Terreck cares for Salanas for an entire month before she wakes and he learns that she has lost her memory. Salanas struggles to walk, slowly learning and regaining the use of her muscles. With guidance from Terreck, Salanas grows stronger each day.

Terreck believes that the woman that washed ashore after a mighty storm was a gift to his weary soul. He finds peace within himself by caring for her and tending to her needs. The nightmares that once plagued him have stopped and even though he doesn't want to consider it, Terreck believes that Salanas is the reason. He wants to keep her around but knows that she must be returned to her home so that her loved ones can help her memory return.

The path back to Trosian is long and arduous. Their days are filled with the thoughts of the future while their nights are consumed by the unrelenting passion that refuses to subside. They both know what their future should be but cannot escape what is right in front of them.

• Language: English
• Publisher: TM Watkins
• Release date: Aug 10, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005109844

TM Watkins

TM Watkins lives in Brisbane, Australia with her family. When she's not working or running around after her family, she spends her days contemplating the next adventure for her characters and her nights writing about them.

Book preview

Salanas could barely hear the quartermaster yelling as he ran to the shrouds. The cabin boy was already overboard, lost to a watery grave. Soon, they’d be joining him if they didn’t get things under control.

They were coming up to Ras Kola, a small gap between two peninsulas, one belonging to Weskana, the other Oskalo. Salanas didn’t want to take this path, but they had a time frame to return home. Going around the Great Horn of Yun Em would take too long.

Why didn’t she want to take the easiest and quickest route home? It was superstition. Everyone believed that Weskana was home to a breed of being that could conjure a wicked spell, the likes of which many could not comprehend.

Salanas wanted to say that it was fool's talk, but she would not. The whispers of the clerics were not to be ignored. If they said it, then there was merit to their words. Still, they’d taken this path. Salanas was wondering if she’d live to regret it.

The waters of Ras Kola should be quiet. At least, Salanas hoped they would be. The open waters of Leromos Oceania were deep, and it was not unusual to see a storm like this. Salanas thought that it should be settling by now, but she could not see the edge of the storm.

The ship rolled in the heaving sea. The storm seemed to be getting worse. After spending nearly a quarter of a century on this boat, Salanas thought that nothing this world threw at them would be challenging to deal with. It would seem that the thought was incorrect.

Thunder echoed, rolling around them as the dark clouds loomed overhead. Lightning cracked, loud and sharp as it bolted down to the ocean. Salanas turned to see a mighty wave coming at the ship, rocking it to one side and almost tipping it over.

Salanas wondered if going south would have been the wiser path. Still, there was a job to be done. A request had been made, and they had to return. They had to go home.

Gripping the wheel, Salanas struggled to remain on her feet. She’d taken in a lot of saltwater, choking and spluttering as the next wave struck the ship. Looking around, Salanas knew two things about this moment. One, this storm was not ordinary, and she firmly believed that it was the creation of something dark, and two, they were not going to survive.

Trose overboard, Elek yelled.

Salanas looked around at the crew, who were quickly dropping in numbers. It distracted her, and as a new wave hit, it lurched the ship in the opposite direction. Salanas’s wrist was caught in the wheel, bending backwards. She cried out a yelp, pulling it free. Pain radiated through her wrist. As another wave surged against the ship, Salanas leaned on the helm for support.

Go and find Roska, Elek yelled. I’ll stay here.

Her quartermaster gripped the helm, giving his captain a firm nod. Salanas didn’t want to leave her posting. She’d taken over as helmsman after Maral decided to throw up. She’d last seen him leaning over the quarterdeck, and now she had no idea where he was. 

Roska was in the hold, trying to secure the things that had come free. It would seem that ferrin was not as strong as what everyone made it out to be.

He stopped upon seeing the captain and her firm glare. The wrist was held out. The stern look told him that it was wise to give good news and nothing else. Taking hold of her wrist, Roska instantly got a hiss from Salanas. His eyes darted up in time to see the wince of pain.

Likely to be sprained. I’m sure that won’t stop you.

Strap it up tightly. I’ve got duties on deck.

Roska nodded, fetching his bag. He wrapped the captain’s wrist as tight as he could manage while trying to remain upright.

Would you like my professional advice?

Stay down here, doctor?

Yes. Following doctor’s orders?

Nope. Strap those cannons down before they do more damage.

Roska said nothing as he watched Salanas stumble away as if she was drunk. They’d had some wild weather over the years, but this was the worst. He’d also never seen the straps break, yet here they were, scrabbling to keep things pinned to their places.

Salanas climbed the stairs, momentarily forgetting her wrist. She was preoccupied with the bodies that were rolling around with the movement of the ship. As another heavy wave hit the ship, Salanas was thrown against the rail. Falling onto the sore wrist, Salanas groaned with the pain.

Her head swirled from the constant rocking of the ship and the pain that was growing by the second. Stepping out onto the deck, Salanas thought that it felt like she was in a daze. Slowly she turned to see Elek struggling with the helm. Everything was out of control. They were losing the battle.

It seemed like the moments were slowly passing her by, staggered movements of the crew that seemed too slow to be real.

Salanas watched as Elek looked up. She turned to see a large crack of lightning hit the mainmast. It was now on fire. The sailor in the crows nest was jumping free of the flames, unaware that he was on fire as well. There were a few sailors on the shrouds trying to fix the ropes. They were sent flying as the mainline snapped.

Sal! Elek screamed. Watch out.

She turned and watched the main boom swing around. The rope was flailing in the wind, and the broken boom was free. It struck her in the head, sending her backwards. Salanas stumbled, disorientated and barely able to keep her eyes open. 

As she stumbled, Salanas tried to focus but couldn’t see anything other than a grey haze. Feeling something hard, she reached out with her sore wrist. The pain was unbearable and consuming but nothing compared to the mighty headache that was swinging back to her again. All Salanas saw was a blur moving towards her. She blacked out the second the main boom struck her for a second time.

Captain overboard, Elek yelled to no one.

He was alone in his task of saving the ship. There was no chance of throwing something out to save any of them. Desperation filled Elek as he looked out to the darkness. He’d lost Salanas, the one member of this crew that was important to their lives. She was their captain, their friend. If he could have, Elek would have dived into the water just to pull her free, but he knew it would be too late. If the bumps to the head didn’t take her out, then taking in too much water definitely would.

Despite it all, he’d persevere, and when it was over, he’d turn back and search for the crew. He hoped that he would find them, but the fear soon found him, whispering that it was too late.

Chapter 1

Terreck rubbed his eyes as he lifted from the lumpy mattress. The blanket tossed aside as he struggled to wake. It had been a terrible night of rest, but that was not unusual. Haunted by the past, the crimes that he wanted to forget but could not.

Resting his elbows on his legs, Terreck sighed as his head lowered. Scratching his fingers through the strands of his hair, feeling the grains of sand that seemed to appear out of nowhere. No matter how many times he washed it, they would be in there, ready to drive him crazy again.

Getting up from the bed, he wandered over to the tiny window and looked out. The palm trees looked like they’d taken a mighty beating last night. He’d laid in bed for a long time listening to the storm that raged hard.

Dressing quickly, Terreck grabbed the thin strap of leather and began to tie his hair back. Terreck was in no hurry, not after the night he’d suffered.

Brother Terreck,

Gritting his teeth, Terreck let go of the long strands of brown and turned to the abbot.

Good morning, abbot.

I see tired eyes. Did you spend too long in the archives again?

Don’t I always? Unfortunately, last night’s efforts were just the past resurfacing.

Terreck and the abbot walked through the internal garden. It was an area designed to be free from the outside world so that they could reflect upon their thoughts without interruption. The pair avoided waking over the grass, keeping to the stone path that surrounded the small courtyard. 

Perhaps it would be wise to discuss it with the doctor.

Terreck didn’t know if that would be wise. He’d avoided saying anything for the entire time that he’d been at the monastery. Was his silence about to end? Maybe they expected him to say something to achieve inner peace. The problem was that Terreck believed that he’d be booted out the front door if they knew the truth.

He’d turned up on their doorstep a month ago, desperate and lost in the mental sense. Terreck knew exactly where he was in the world. This was Indren, a country renowned for being closer to the spiritual side of this existence. Terreck didn’t know how they’d be able to help him or if they could, but he thought it was worth a shot. They did too, offering him a bed in one of the empty monk’s cells.

They were gentle, caring for Terreck with kind words and hearty meals. The stranger repaid their kindness with hard work. He tidied the area behind the rear garden that was full of overgrown weeds and fallen trees. A year’s worth of firewood had been stacked in a neat pile waiting for them to use through the frost season. Despite being close to the ocean, Indren still suffered a cold frost season.

I’ve spoken with doctors. They are not useful.

The abbot nodded with a caring smile.

As you wish. If you change your mind, you know where to find me. I will happily send for the town doctor to pay you a visit. In the meantime, perhaps a stroll along the beach to collect shells is in order?

Terreck nodded, collecting the basket. This was one of the things that he always liked to do for them. The monks sold shells at the local market to fund a nearby orphanage. They also sold whatever fruit and vegetables they could grow. It wasn’t much, but they did what they could.

On his way through, Terreck grabbed a Rosan fruit and continued out into the morning sun.

Biting down, he felt the juice slide down his fingers. As much as he loved Rosan, Terreck hated how messy they were.

The morning was warm. It made for a pleasant stroll along the beach. Terreck liked being in Indren, but a part of him missed his home. There would always be a calling to the place that had been his entire world for many years. Still, he didn’t know if he could return at the moment. There would be no choice, but for now, he’d hide in this monastery.

Tossing the core into the bushes, Terreck rubbed his sticky hand onto his pants. It was a short path to the water, but he’d momentarily forgotten. Looking down at his pants, Terreck sighed heavily. This was the price that he paid for doing things when he was tired.

Dumping the basket, Terreck kicked off his sandals and walked into the water. He carefully brushed the saltwater over the sticky part of his pants and then cleaned his hands. Returning to the basket, Terreck collected a few broken shells. The abbot said to collect the perfect ones that would sell quickly and easily, but Terreck liked the imperfect ones, were a little damaged or even just a tiny piece of a shell.

The path to inner peace was done through a little venture that was art. Terreck didn’t care if anything he made sold at the market. He did it to calm his mind.

With his sandals back on and the basket in hand, Terreck set off to spend his morning searching for shells and whatever debris happened to wash ashore. After the storm last night, Terreck wondered if he’d find pieces of coral as well. He was surprised to see a spoon.

Huh. He grunted, leaning down to pick it up.

Tossing it into the basket, Terreck continued on without overthinking it. Little oddities like that were common and surprising. What was uncommon was the body that had barely crawled out of the water. Terreck paused, looking at the figure. He didn’t know if they were dead or alive. Given the situation and the storm last night, they were likely dead, and the water just brought them to shore.

Still, he wandered over and lowered to check. Rolling the body over, he saw that the figure was, in fact, a woman. She had a mighty black bruise on her forehead, puffed up and swollen. It looked nasty and probably extremely painful.

Pressing his fingers to her neck, Terreck checked for a pulse. There was a faint beat that made him huff in shock.

How could you be alive? Terreck murmured.

He looked over the woman, finding a locket laying on her sternum. It was an octopus, the tentacles curled over the opening with enough space to show that there was a stone behind it. The blue glistened in the light as Terreck picked it up to examine it. The locket was a sacred piece to those who wore them, and despite it being made of the sturdiest metal, he worried that something dire would happen. 

Carefully he laid it down against the sun-kissed skin, knowing exactly what he was faced with.

Trosian pirate. You’re a long way from home.

Giving her a slight jostle earned Terreck a groan. The woman began gargling. Terreck shifted back and rolled her onto her side. Giving her back a slight whack, he woke her enough to get the water out.

The