Uprooted: Four Stars Over Ardatz: Sovereigns, #1

By Kandi J Wyatt

"This is a story to savor. Kandi J. Wyatt brings characters and settings into vivid life with exceptional skill. Epic fantasy lovers won't want to miss Uprooted." USA Today Bestselling Author, A.L. Knorr

 

Who can you trust? 

Hest's dad taught him all he knows about horses, but when the most magnificent stallion he's ever seen walks through his stable, 18-year-old Hest's life changes as drastically as it did the day his parents died. 

Now in the service of the warrior who owns this fabulous creature, Hest travels far from the only home he's known and into the world of kings, princesses, and court intrigue. 

If only life was as simple as working with a horse, but people are more complex and want more than fresh straw and some oats. If Hest isn't careful, he'll end up on the wrong side of a sword or worse—betraying the very people who have taken him in. 

Uprooted is the first book in the coming-of-age fantasy series, The Sovereigns. If you like action, rounded character development, and dragons, you'll love Kandi J Wyatt's book.

 

Journey to a new world and grab Uprooted today!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kandi J Wyatt
• Release date: Feb 8, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201082246

Kandi J Wyatt

Even as a young girl, Kandi J Wyatt, had a knack for words. She loved to read them, even if it was on a shampoo bottle! By high school Kandi had learned to put words together on paper to create stories for those she loved. Nowadays, she writes for her kids, whether that's her own five or the hundreds of students she's been lucky to teach. When Kandi's not spinning words to create stories, she's using them to teach students about Spanish, life, and leadership.

Book preview

Uprooted

Kandi J Wyatt

Copyright, 2022

Uprooted

Copyright @2022 Kandi J Wyatt

Editing by Part the Wor(l)ds Editing

Proofreading by Sheri Williams

Coverart Kandi J Wyatt

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Excepting brief review quotes, this book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without the express written permission of the copyright holder. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to similarly named places or to persons living or deceased is unintentional.

To all who wander seeking a place to call home.

May you find what you long for.

Welcome to Ardatz. This new realm has much to offer, from a dark and light side of the planet, to magic and even dragons! Four Stars over Ardatz wouldn’t exist without the creativity of my husband, Eric. He asked the question, What if...? What if a planet was knocked off its axis so that one side always is dark and the other always light? Through many days of brainstorming, the world came into being. The ideas came from more than just Eric, my two youngest sons listened to my thoughts, focused them, and even shot some down, but through it all, they were just as excited as I was.

But a world isn’t enough to build a story. Again, Eric came through with a creative photo session. Just like a nine-patch quilt, he created nine images that told a story. I thought I could tell it as a short story, but no, the characters had other ideas. As I began writing what eventually became book five, I realized there was a character missing, and I needed to tell his story. With that, Hest was born and with him, the dragon kings.

I’m so grateful to my team. There’s The Armorers—Conrad, Tammy, Kat, and Wendy—who gave invaluable advice and shaped several chapters. Ally put in time and her heart as she listened to me share my discouragement after the first round of critiques, and then suggested ways to make the story still work. After that, she edited, making my words shine so they sound like a true tale. She even helped with the names for the books as well as the series and gave feedback on the covers. Without Ally, I’d only be half the author I am. Then Sheri was the last eyes on the manuscript before it went to print. Her unfailing dedication for the past five years has been a godsend. Last but not least is my publicist, Pam. She was the one who worked the most in making sure the covers were up to standard quality, promoting Uprooted, and giving me valuable advice. Thanks for working with me for the past six years, Pam. I couldn’t have done it without you.

One final person to thank is you, my reader. You’ve chosen to pick up this book and enter a new world, giving up your time to explore with me. May your trust be well placed.

Chay la Jeeah!

Table of Contents

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Epilogue

Blessed: Chapter 1

Atsegenian Words Glossary

Four Stars over Ardatz: Sovereigns

Dare to Hope

About the Author

Works by Kandi J Wyatt

Chapter 1

It’s said that there once were four stars that roamed the skies. Graen ruled what was called day, and Handi, Tsiki, and Pikku divided the night. Pikku, being the smallest, became jealous of Graen and the others. In her envy, she incited a war among the siblings, but they quickly saw through her ruse and turned their combined power upon her, wrenching her from her place in the heavens. In a final bid for vengeance, she fell toward Ardatz, planning to destroy it by the violence of her impact. But Jeeah, seeing her intent, intervened, standing in her path so that she smote against him—and shattered. In the end, only a small sliver of her fell upon the planet. Yet her vengeance was realized all the same, for from that step forward, the skies were divided and only Handi could travel his accustomed paths. Graen was confined to the heavens of Aeguskey and Atsegenia, while Tsiki kept her quiet watch over Eelarga. Thus Ardatz was divided, and so, it is to this step.

~Anton, skiv’vare to Cooning’as of Poh’yoinin

2011 AI

Stad, Skymna, Eelarga

6125 AI

IT WAS BEYOND HEST how one creature could create such a mess, but the pile of manure was nearly spilling over the edges of his wheelbarrow. With a sigh—which did nothing to keep the odor at bay—he pushed the creaking cart from the stable to the heap behind the inn and dumped the load on top, shaking it back and forth to make sure it was completely empty. At least Malene’s garden never wanted for fertilizer. As he walked the stinking cart back into the barn, a horse nickered, and he rubbed the nose that protruded over the limestone wall.

I need to finish your neighbor’s room, boy. You’ll be fine until your owner comes back, he comforted the lonesome creature.

It didn’t take long to clean the four stalls, but it was the one chore Hest hated, even if he didn’t usually complain. Unfortunately, on the occasions Torrin had helped, it’d ended up with Hest doing the job all over again to get the stalls up to par.

After two more trips, each space was immaculate, and Hest moved on to adding fresh straw. When the stalls were finished, he checked over the rest of the barn to make sure it was ready for the end-of-step rush. Most customers at Tsiki’s Choice were locals, but with Stad being on the main trade route, each step brought at least a few merchants.

Hest! Hest! Torrin rushed into the barn and skidded to a halt, kicking up dust and scattering straw. An Atsegenian’s coming, and a wealthy one at that.

And how would you know that? He ruffled the blond head. Haven’t been lurking about the gate, have you?

No, the child gulped air, not this time. I was out with Filip and saw the man. He rides a huge black stallion—

Greetings. Is there no one to take my horse?

Hest looked up to see a stocky man with an intimidating visage standing in the doorway. The words, although badly accented, were understandable, which was more than Hest could say about most Atsegenians. They generally stuck with Axelian, the trade language, instead of trying to speak Skymnan.

My apologies, sir. Hest glared at Torrin for not explaining that the customer was already present but moved to follow the stranger. Just finished cleaning out the last of the stalls. Have the perfect spot for your horse.

’Tis not an ordinary creature, here.

Hest stopped in his tracks as he rounded the door frame. Neither Torrin nor the man had lied; the horse was magnificent.

"Li care, Marclua."

Hest didn’t understand the words, but the horse obviously did, for it ceased its prancing. Hest reached for the reins, but the man pulled them out of reach, eyeing the stable boy with no small amount of misgiving. The motion, however, brushed his cloak aside, for a moment revealing the saber strapped to his side. For the first time, Hest really looked at the man... no, warrior.

His presence was far more commanding than his height ought to have allowed for; he barely came up to Hest’s chin. Piercing eyes, the color of a sky-break after a storm, held his attention, weighing his worth. Hest straightened to his full height; he’d let no man look down on him, especially one who literally couldn’t.

You will take care of Marclua. The man ordered flatly, still holding the reins out of Hest’s reach.

Of course, I will!

‘Tis no ordinary creature, he repeated. "Marclua is my duna antish. You will care for him as you would yourself."

Hest clenched his teeth. Was this really necessary? It wasn’t as if there was another stable boy in Stad he could go to.

Yes, sir, I understand. I will treat him with the utmost respect.

As irritating as the man’s condescension may have been, there was no denying the horse’s worth. Not even in a hundred turns would Hest be able to afford such an animal.

Still the man stood, his eyes evaluating Hest and the building, as if deciding whether they were beneath him or not.

You will give him only the best treatment and only give him small amounts of water every third span until he’s cooled off.

Hest’s ire got the better of him, and he reached for the reins. I said I’d take care of him, and I don’t go against my word.

A fist flashed forward, seizing his tunic and lifting him off his feet. "And I said: you will not harm my duna antish. Nor will you take what is not yours."

Hest gasped for breath and nodded, squirming against the burly man’s grip, but he made no progress until the warrior set him down of his own accord. Hest coughed and tamped down on his anger.

My apologies, sir. He bowed. It won’t happen again.

As he straightened, he saw a flicker of a smile cross the warrior’s solemn face. No ‘twill not.

He turned to his horse and spoke again in the foreign language, one which Hest had never heard before, and he’d heard many languages in his eighteen turns. He recognized duna antish and Marclua, but everything else went by too swiftly to catch. Without turning, the man thrust his hand out to Hest.

Care for him..., he shifted his head to make eye contact, ...or else I will deal with you.

Hest swallowed. "I’ve given my word. I won’t go against it."

See that you do not. And with that, the warrior left.

Woah! What was that all about? Did you see how high he lifted you off the ground, Hest? Torrin’s words rattled together. Can I take the horse in?

Ignoring the jabbering boy, Hest held out his hand to the horse. Marclua, welcome to my humble abode. Torrin giggled behind him. Your tuna ay-tooshie is a bully, but I won’t hold that against you.

The horse swung his massive head to the side.

None of that. Hest pulled the reins in tight and led the stallion to the stall he’d just cleaned.

Do you think he’s been in battles? Torrin climbed up onto the limestone wall that bounded the enclosure.

Don’t know. Probably. Hest hooked a lead rope to the bridle and tied it to an iron hoop on the wall. The man definitely has. I saw scars on his hands and there’s a small one under his chin.

From a sword?

Maybe. He kept his hand on Marclua’s belly and reached to unbuckle the saddle girth. Could be from a knife, though.

How do you know these things?

Hest grunted and heaved the saddle with its blanket onto the wall beside Torrin. Make yourself useful and fetch me the curry comb.

While he waited for the boy, he unstrapped the bridle and eased the bit out, then reached for the stiff-bristled comb that Torrin handed over the wall.

Unlike you, I’m observant. Hest explained, as he rubbed circles over Marclua’s back and flanks. I also hear everything people don’t expect me to hear. They talk as if a stable boy has no ears.

I know what you mean. Torrin pulled an apple from his pocket and took a bite.

Don’t give that to him. The warrior will have my hide!

Torrin looked at the fruit and frowned. I wasn’t going to. Besides, it’s almost too far gone. Must’ve been too old when the merchant bought it. He shrugged and took another bite; whatever the quality, Hest would have done the same. Fruit was too precious to waste.

Once the stallion gleamed in the lamplight, Hest went looking for a halter that would fit Marclua, but the stallion was simply too huge, so he rigged one out of rope, then led the horse to the water trough in the inn’s courtyard. Laughter and music floated out the open window—the dinner crowd had assembled. Hest vaguely wondered how the warrior handled crowds. Probably sits off in a corner on his own.

Torrin! Get your scrawny self in here. Mother needs you! Maya called from the kitchen door. Seeing Hest, she flushed and smoothed her skirts then brushed her blonde hair over her shoulder with a shy wave. I’ll save you some stew, Hest, and something to drink.

Thanks! He watched her lithe form as she sauntered back to the kitchen, a smile playing across his face. How one girl could scatter his thoughts to the wind, he didn’t know.

Come on, Marclua. He urged the stallion forward. Seems like we don’t have any other visitors coming through. I might as well get my food while it’s hot.

The horse huffed, and Hest laughed. So, you do know how to talk to people, huh? Thought so. He rubbed Marclua’s nose, then turned the horse into the stall and returned with a generous portion of their best grain. "Wish you could tell me where you’re from, other than the obvious. What’s it like where the sky’s bright? Is it true there’s no need of lamps ever?"

Hest didn’t believe the tales he’d heard about Atsegena, but then again, people said that further north in Eelarga you wouldn’t have been able to see your hand in front of your face if Handi and Tsiki didn’t make their turn through the sky. But even stranger stories than that came through a trade-road inn; who knew what was and what wasn’t? Hest took a final glance around to be sure all was in order, then shut the barn door and headed back through the eternal twilight toward the savory scents of food.

He thought again of Maya’s face and what words they might share when the meal was over, and the patrons were getting quiet and sleepy on their last drinks. The horses, the inn, and one moonstep a family of his own—it was a good life, and enough for him. Even if he had to endure the occasional imposing, superior customer.

Chapter 2

To Eirik, my son, I bequeath my life’s work, The Merry Lights. I know you have always loved the place, but to keep it well will require perhaps a deeper love for its needs than you have had before. If you wish to carry on the generations of excellence that mark our family’s inn, you will do well to always have on hand strong ale, hearty meals, and comfortable beds. It would also help to have clean rooms and an immaculate dining hall.

~Last will and testament of Bjorn son of Einar, innkeeper

Sultiyelma, Skymna, Eelarga

4653 AI

Stad, Skymna

6125 AI

HEST OPENED THE DOOR and allowed his eyes to adjust to the dimmer light, basking in the warmth and aromas: fresh bread, stew—lamb if he had to guess—and pipe smoke mingling with the smell of the hearth fire. In a corner, Luu’s doom-tic-a-tic-a lent a lively beat to Valter’s cordophone. The fingers of the muscian’s left hand danced merrily along the keys, while in his other hand the bow sawed at singing strings whose music seemed to pull the dancers across the floor. Haunting though his native music was, Hest couldn’t help but clap to the beat.

Weaving around the dancing couples, Hest made his way to a stone table, greeting locals as he went. He pushed up his tunic sleeves, as he made his way closer to the fireplace where the musicians had set up and chose a seat out of the way. Between Malene’s exacting eye, Wilma’s cooking, and the lively entertainment, Tsiki’s Choice was one of the best, and it was a full house nearly every moonstep.

Here you go. Maya placed a platter on the table in front of him. Just the way you like it, and... She cut off with a twinkle in her eye as she set down a mug, and Hest could smell the heady ale—his favorite kind.

He raised an eyebrow. Does Malene know?

What Mother doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Besides she still has several kegs left from last year. Maya pushed her long tresses behind her ear. Anything else you’ll be needing?

Taking his eyes off her golden hair, he surveyed what she had brought him. A piece of bread would be nice.

Her smile lit her whole face, making her appear even younger than her seventeen turns and sending his heart skittering like a foal. I can do that. With a swish of her skirt, she moved between the tables, graceful as the barn cat among the horse’s legs.

He wondered what she would do if he asked her to join him for a drink on her moonstep off. She was attentive to his needs while she worked, but would she mind that he was just an orphaned stable boy with no hope of anything beyond that? He smiled as he sipped the ale. The fruity, yet bitter taste was just right after the moonstep’s work. Across the way, old man William kicked his legs up in time to Luu’s beat.

When Maya returned, he stopped her. When’s your next step off?

In three, why? She glanced down at her slender fingers and wrapped them in her apron.

Hest smiled. Would you care to get a drink with me?

A rush of pink filled her cheeks, and she shuffled her feet. Um...

Maya! Another order! Malene called from the kitchen.

I’ve got to go, but... Yes! She called the last word over her shoulder.

Hest stared after her, dumbstruck and grinning like a fool, his mind racing as fast as his heart. He couldn’t believe his luck. Even now, watching her serve her customers, the sight of her clouded his mind faster than he could clear it. She moved like a bright flame, casting her light around the room as she poured drinks and smiled at the patrons, exuding kindness that lifted everyone’s spirits. And he was going to get a drink with her! As she disappeared into the kitchen, he started counting off the number of moonsteps until she’d be free. Maybe if everything went well, he could claim her next moonstep away from the inn, too. And maybe the next after that, and...

Distracted, he started to take a bite, but then his gaze caught on a shadowy figure in the far corner. The lamp light was weak there, and no one generally sat in that spot because the fire’s heat didn’t reach it, but Hest smirked in satisfaction. Sure enough, just as he had predicted, the stocky fighter had taken the most remote corner available. Hest tipped his head in greeting and received the slightest movement in response.

Maya’s voice caught his attention, and he watched her roam the room as he savored the tender lamb chunks and the crunchy vegetables. Every so often, their eyes would meet, though neither of them quite seemed to know what to do about it, and there were more than a few flustered moments when he decided to become very engrossed in a scrape on the back of his hand. Meanwhile, he wondered where to go for their drink. Definitely not here—Malene would be furious. Though she’d been trying to pair him up with every girl in Stad ever since his fifteenth turn, he’d wanted nothing to do with it. His eyes had always been on her daughter—the one girl the innkeeper didn’t want in a match. He’d have to see how many coins he could dig up from his hiding place in his room. Or he could get Torrin to fill a wine skin for him, and they could go for a walk out to the granite boulder past the city gate.

You finished that in a hurry. You must have been hungry. He looked up to find Malene standing over him. You might as well go on to bed. The city gate’s been closed by now, so there shouldn’t be any more horses coming in. And unless I miss my guess, the Atsegenian will have you up early to prepare his animal. He’ll be on his way before Tsiki has risen.

Hest knew an order when he heard one, no matter how much reasoning had followed it, and figured that she must have caught him eyeing Maya.

I’ll just finish my drink, then.

She nodded. Don’t stay up too late.

Hest gazed into his mug. Best not to let her see his annoyance at her insistent mothering. After all, she was the closest thing to family he had.

As he sipped at the last sloshes of ale, Luu put a final flourish on a winsome dance tune and transitioned to a slower beat. Valter picked up the change, flowing into The Ballad of Wilhelm the Brave. The song always reminded Hest of his parents; they loved to recount it, their voices racing one another to tell the best parts, laughing when they accidentally said something exactly in sync. Mother had claimed that Wilhelm was one of her ancestors and that bravery ran in the family, but Hest didn’t see how that could be. The only time he was brave was when he got angry,