A World Created: The Sword of the Goddess

By J.D. Quesenberry

'A World Created' is an epic tale of love and loss set in a not-so-distant future against a backdrop of battles between good and evil. Mrs. Quesenberry is a gifted artist of literature and prose with an exquisite vocabulary.

Travel with a menagerie of characters on a journey through a wondrous alien world and discover its mystical peoples and exotic places. You'll encounter beings with telepathic abilities, ocean dwellers and curious beasts along the way.

Liam and Sunyev, guided and gifted by the deity Honorae, try desperately to secure the salvation of Vesperia. Liam enlists an
army of volunteer troops and loyal allies to overcome mysterious enemy forces in a race against the clock. An ancient ceremony must be completed to guarantee peace in Vesperia.

And it doesn't end there; the book comes with a companion website containing charts, maps, glossary and a reader forum.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jan 3, 2022
• ISBN: 9781667824499

Book preview

Chapter I

6.--and the Goddess, Honorae, gathered dust from the void. She spat into the dust and formed the world. She cradled it in the depths of the void. 7. The Goddess plucked out Her eye and set it in the heavens to be a light unto the day. From Her right hand She took a finger bone and formed a sphere and set it in the heavens to be a light unto the night, to be Vespa, the moon. 8. And the morning and the night were the first day.

Book of Honorae, circa Anno Honorae 2033. Jen. 1:6-8

The rivers were full in the late summer, beginning- of-not-yet-winter, the year of Honorae, 3967. The waters ran quiet and deep, jade and malachite in the calm stretches; swift and jet black, white frothed in the tumbled narrows and rock-filled fords. Some said it was a good omen. Others looked askance at the rushes waving on the bottom, and the drowned, spiked leaves of asphodel along the paths and watery steps on the banks. River boaters moved their skiffs ever higher hanging ward pennants from spars and masts above sprit sails. The old ones clucked, hunched their shoulders and threw the bright quills and gray polished stones in the fore-telling circle. Once, again, thrice, and still a fourth time they threw the hackles and stones. Their faces said it would be a hard winter and Danh did not believe they were worried about the weather. There was an aura of foreboding, a hint of travail in the air; a pervasive, invisible miasma.

Evening mists curled and nestled in the hollows; fluffy, gray cats drifting sinuously through the trees and around White Rose Tower. Danh hurried past the broad, iron bound Vesper doors. Nenae, the evening star, shown wanly, or not at all. Darkling clouds, silver edged, scudded across the purpling sky, hiding, then revealing, Vespa, the moon, hand of the Goddess. Wraith-like, white veiled Vesper maidens made obeisance to the full moon from the tower walls and quickly withdrew. Danh pulled his cloak tighter across his shoulders, made a sketchy obeisance and quickened his pace. He shivered longing for the warm fire sure to be awaiting him at home on the big, old, rock hearth. His stomach rumbled, hungering for Lona's kist cake and lentil soup. It had been a favorite of Sunyev's; he missed her. He shivered again and tried to hurry a little faster as he rounded the Blue Tower. Only a little further to go; it would be good to get home.

He wondered how Sunyev was and what she might be doing right now. He was so proud, but a little frightened too. His daughter, his little Sunyev, one of the Chosen, gone to the tower. He wished she could join Lona and himself for latemeal tonight. It had been almost a year now since Sunyev had gone to the tower. Lona had told him what had transpired the day Elder Sister Tyree had come for Sunyev.

Hurry Sunyev, Lona called. Elder Sister Tyree sent word she would be here to escort you to Vesper Compound at the fifth hour, and it's almost fourthan now. What in the name of the Goddess are you carrying in your knapsack? she continued. You know you aren't supposed to take anything but two changes of clothing.

Well, I don't care. I'm taking my rope and the flute Liam made for me and my best blue cloak. It will be cold in that monstrosity of a tower, and they'll probably put me on the third floor. That's the top floor, it's bound to be even colder! Sunyev sank down on the knapsack and contemplated Lona with defiant eyes. A tear straggled down one, thin cheek. She brushed it away angrily, Anyway, it was my mother's cloak.

She's grown thinner, Lona thought. Oh Dear Heart, Lona sat down on the foot stool beside Sunyev and took her hand. I know you don't want to go, but we all have to do hard things sometimes.

But I'll never see Liam again! Sunyev sobbed.

Sunyev, Sunyev, Lona said gently. Don't take on so. She put her arms around the girl's shoulders and pulled her close. You can't know that for sure. None of us knows what the Goddess plans for us. I believe She loves us and wants only what's best for us. Besides, she tweaked a curl at the nape of Sunyev's neck, now I'll know someone inside the compound, someone who can get me in to see the knife dance of the Red Knights. We can watch it together. Do you remember when you were six and--

And you were sixteen, Sunyev smiled weakly.

Yes, and we climbed that big, old oak on top of Twotrees Hill Westron of the compound by the Everan.

And watched the dance until Elder Sister Langston saw us and sent the guard after us, Sunyev hiccoughed loudly, and giggled.

Yes, and we ran and ran, Lona laughed.

We sneaked across the Everan Toll Bridge and couldn't find our tokens to get back at market time.

Cause you dropped them when you fell out of the tree.

Yes, and we had to stay on the other side until the toll booth closed at twelfthan. Goddess, was Father ever mad! Sunyev chortled.

Only because he was worried. I see Sister Tyree coming along the path by the orchard fence. Lona craned her neck, peering out the window. She glanced at Sunyev, Feeling better now?

Sunyev nodded and rubbed at her eyes.

It'll turn out all right. I have a feeling it's going to be fine. Lona stood and smoothed her apron, You'll see.

Sunyev gave her a wry smile, I hope so. I surely hope so. She picked up her knapsack and started for the door. She heard Sister Tyree rap firmly on the door and call out three times, for Sunyev, the Chosen, to come forth and serve the Goddess. She looked at Lona, then ran back, and gave her a quick hug. With one last look around the familiar and dearly loved big, old, common room she opened the door and left.

Tyree, accompanied by Elder Sisters, Dimity and Vister, escorted Sunyev to their cart and helped her aboard. Tyree hefted the knapsack and glanced sharply at Sunyev. Seeing the girl's woebegone face she smiled, shrugged and handed it up to Vister without a word. Sunyev, perched gingerly on the back bench, and grabbed for the side rail as Dimity clucked to the stout, little donkey. The cart started off with a jerk and clattered noisily down the lane and across Corkscrew Run. Sunyev gazed longingly back at the houk, the kist orchard and Sidepond, as they receded into the distance. Would she ever be able to come back for a visit, would she ever see Liam again? Her father had said he was proud of her, they had made their farewells last night. She sighed and turned to face the road ahead.

Sunyev was assigned a tiny room on the third floor of the Tower of the White Rose with a Northron exposure and a fine view of the Redwine River. She could even see the rope bridge spanning the Narrows. A guard paced desultorily in front of a yellow striped guard house at the head of the bridge.

Latemeal will be served at sixthan in the dining room. You just go that way. You've got time to wash and change if you want to, the novice, who had showed her to her room, informed her. By the way, she said, touching the backs of her fingers to her fore-head courteously. I am Little Sister Rueth. Gamin like, she grinned, We've got hawkberry pie tonight. See you in the dining room. I've got to go help Sister Callie.

A tall, slender girl with long, dark hair and a sulky expression paused momentarily in the doorway, sniffed loudly, then went down the hall.

Who's that? Sunyev asked.

Oh, that's the other Chosen, name's Tallice, Rueth said, pulling at a strand of her light brown hair, her brown eyes thoughtful as she watched Tallice swagger down the hall. Think's she somethin', she does. You watch out for her. She ain't nothin' but a snitch and mean besides. Bye, see you later. Impulsively, Sunyev hugged her. Oh, oh, oh, thank you, Rueth smiled and hurried down the hall to the stairway.

Sunyev looked around the room; it held a narrow bed with a heavy frame and a white counterpane, a battered trunk, for clothes she presumed, a night stand with pitcher and bowl; a shelf above held soap and towels. There was a small fireplace. Lucky, she thought, not all the rooms had fireplaces. She had glimpsed small, charcoal braziers in the rooms they had passed as they came along the hall. The best for the Chosen; she grimaced and shrugged. Well, better wash up and go down to latemeal.

Sunyev paused at the entry to the dining room; the hubbub was deafening. Gradually it quieted, and all eyes turned towards her. Inwardly she cringed. Rueth came hurrying up and took her hand, C'mon, don't mind them. They're just curious and some of ‘em are jealous. Sunyev squared her shoulders, and lifted her chin. A daughter of Danh and Dalie of the line of y Istlan Peronais was as good as any here and had nothing to fear. She let Rueth pull her across the room to a table of grinning novices, all with the white rose embroidered on their tunics.

Here she is! Rueth declared importantly. Didn't I tell you she was pretty, and she's nice, too? I personally vouch for her. Rueth, her face rosy and smiling, slid her neat, slender form into a chair near an elfin blonde.

Hear, hear! they clamored. Well come, well come to the White Rose. They all saluted her, touching their foreheads with the backs of their fingers.

Sunyev blushed and managed to stammer out a thank you and give them a salute in greeting. Sit here, Rueth said, between Verice and me.

Yes, do, Verice smiled. We are all so glad you've come. Sister Tyree told us all about you, and asked us to make you welcome.

Ohoooo! Sunyev breathed, overwhelmed. Soon she was talking and laughing as if they had always been chums. From a corner across the room Tallice watched and sneered muttering under her breath. Elder Sister Tyree smiled and nodded to herself, but catching sight of Tallice, her face sobered and looked troubled.

Sunyev woke to the booming of the great, brass gong that hung in the chapel portico, announcing the beginning of her first day in Vesper Compound. Vesper Compound, she was to learn during orientation class, comprised approximately 658 hectares. The compound was enclosed by massive walls of kiln burned, clay bricks, the ramparts of which were topped by bastions at regular intervals. The compound was entered through two huge gateways; one behind the other, each hung with two immense, ironbound doors. The portals were flanked by four minor towers crowned with battlements. A mammoth portcullis fashioned of iron bars with spikes at the bottom was suspended over each gateway. They could be dropped instantly by cutting the ropes that held them aloft. Axes were permanently positioned near the ropes for this purpose. Any enemy, entering through the first portal, could be trapped between portals and disposed of handily.

Within the compound was a small city almost completely self sufficient. It contained several wells, a small spring-fed lake, vegetable gardens and orchards, stables, an armory, chapel, dormitories, schoolrooms, dining areas, kitchen and bakery, library, canteen, as well as the four sister towers and several, small areas of parkland. In times of unrest or war, the population of Vespatown and outlying areas could be accommodated within the stout walls.

Sunyev was fascinated; she had never been inside the compound before. So much going on all the time; the White Knights riding their fabulous, white stallions in intricate, swift circling formations; the Red Knights practicing their knife dances; white clad, Vesper Maidens holding classes beneath the chapel garden trees; supply wagons carrying pig iron for the smithy and wine from far Istlan, bales of wool and other raw materials to be fashioned for the Westron markets; guard troops and couriers on mysterious errands; coracles on the lake. She didn't know where to look first.

Hola, Rueth called, Over here, she waved as Sunyev looked about to locate the source of the voice. You need to get your work assignment before we go to midmeal. It's almost firsthan.

I'm coming. It's just so exciting, so much to see. Are all the troops women? she asked.

You bet! Rueth responded. I think Elder Sister Deerth said there were eight quadret of regulars, alone, based here.

Quadret? queried Sunyev.

Yes, a quadret--you know, four hundred--and all of them women. Course all eight quadret are never here at the same time. Some of them share quarters in the adjunct Everan Compound on the other side of the Everan River. I think the adjunct is a coupla hours march Southron of the toll gate. Anyway, the only man allowed inside the compound proper is the Champion himself, unless a course there's a war or somethin', or a male relative comes to visit a sister. But male visitors only get as far as the chapel square and the Hall of Truth. Here we are, the clerk's hall. The clerk clears and issues all assignment cards as requested by the Elder Sisters

Sunyev reported in and the clerk assigned her to the laundry. Oh, yeck! That's where Tallice is assigned! Rueth exclaimed.

Oh, well, maybe it won't be so bad. Where did you say Tallice was from?

Oh, from Seahold, I think, the line of y Seahold Peronais.

What? But that's my line! I mean, I'm the line of y Istlan Peronais! We must be related, Sunyev said excitedly. I've never met any of my distant kin.

Well, you ain't missed much, not meetin' this one, Rueth commented sourly. C'mon, the privy gates are about to close, and you have to give your assignment card to Vesper Sister Vinna, or Sister Berna will have ten thousand squirmies.

Sunyev giggled, What's with Sister Berna?

She's meaner than a groat with his den flooded. They say, Rueth lowered her voice and glanced around surreptitiously, they say she made a novice kneel all night in a tub of ice water for somethin' she did. Somethin' not even important, just a little thing.

What did she do?

Oh, she sneaked out through the postern gate and just stood there looking around, then picked a flower and came back in. I don't know, maybe the story's not even true. But she is mean, and you have to be careful around her. They say the novice got pneumonia and died afterwards. I do know she is kin to Elder Sister Dimity and Dimity has to talk pretty hard to her sometimes.

Here we are at the laundry. Greetings, Sister Vinna. How's my favorite Vesper Sister today?

Rueth, there you go buttering me up. What are you after now? Vinna scowled ferociously, but her eyes danced merrily. Is that our new one?

This is Chosen Sunyev y Istlan Peronais, Rueth presented Sunyev. She's a good'un, just like you, she finished slyly and grinned.

Vinna scowled even more fiercely and looked intently at Sunyev, who squirmed uncomfortably under her scrutiny. You're right, was Vinna's only comment. She held out her hand, I'll take your card and well, let's see. You can work in the pressing room with Tallice. I believe she's distant kin to you then.

Yes Sister, so I've been told. Thank you. When would you like me to start?

Oh, tomorrow will be soon enough. You can start at nineteenthan, that is, an hour after firstmeal. You younglings get along now and mind you don't take all the hawkberry, sugar buns on your way out. One a piece! she said in her bluff manner, wagging an admonishing finger at them. Her ample figure shook with laughter.

The following day, at nineteenthan, found Sunyev hard at work in the steamy pressing room beside Tallice. --so we are kin, finished Sunyev.

So what! Tallice remarked. I didn't need you to pop up here and it doesn't matter to me who you are. I'm the one who is going to be the new Mother. She stared hard at Sunyev, her eyes narrowing, And don't you forget it! Her hand reached, and grabbed Sunyev's arm in a hard grip, tightening painfully. Do you understand me?

Tallice, I'd like to be your friend, if you'll let me. I- I-I don't want to be the Mother! I didn't even want to come here! There were tears in her eyes.

Somewhat mollified, Tallice released her grip on Sunyev's arm and gave a small satisfied smile. This one would be easy to cow. Just be sure you remember that and stay out of my way. If you do anything, anything to mess me up I'll fix you! I'll fix you good! You'll wish you had never been born!

Sunyev rubbed her arm, it was already starting to color. Sunyev surmised it would be a bad bruise. Anger suffused her, It's up to the Goddess anyway, isn't it, and just maybe, She'll prefer me!

There are ways of arranging things, Tallice smirked, observing Sunyev rubbing her arm.

Sunyev didn't know if that was another threat, or if Tallice really thought there was something she could do about who the Goddess chose to be the Mother. Sickened, she moved down to the other end of the room and busied herself separating the racks of pressed clothing according to their destinations. She wanted to get as far away from Tallice as she could. The whole episode made her feel as if she had swallowed groat leavings. She was relieved when Rueth came bouncing in to ask if she wanted to join the novices at Sister Bussee's weekly, Marketday eve's, food party. It's in Bussee's chambers. It will be after Vesper hour, which, is at eighthan.

She tells such marvelous stories and wait 'til you meet Timothy and Tabby. They are so handsome.

Sunyev looked bewildered, I thought, but, I mean, Timothy?

Cats! Cats! Her cats! Rueth dissolved in gales of laughter. You thought, oh no!

Sunyev looked sheepish. Tallice, looking on from the cloak room, gave an audible hoot of contempt, snatched up her cloak and stamped out slamming the door behind her. By mutual consent, the two girls ignored the incident and left arm in arm chattering about their respective families. They each told how they had come to be respectively novice and Chosen. They had both lost their mothers at birth, and their mutual loss, shared, deepened their new friendship. Rueth confided she had asked for a transfer to the Knight's Tower and been assured she would be accepted. They said I should report to the tower in six months. Sunyev asked if she could transfer to the kitchen or somewhere else. She related the story of the unpleasantness with Tallice. Rueth promised to talk to Sister Bussee and see if she would put in a request for Sunyev. Sister Bussee's been complaining she needs more help anyway, Rueth declared.

The warmth and companionship of the novices, and most especially of Rueth and Verice, did much to lift Sunyev's spirits. But later in her narrow bed she cried long and desolately missing her father and Liam.

Sunyev, first daughter of her father, Danh, never thought to be Chosen for the tower. True, her father delighted in her, but that wasn't exactly a recommendation for the tower. When Elder Vesper Sister had visited from the tower, everything had seemed to go wrong. Sunyev and Liam were screening hawkberries from Sidepond at Corkscrew.

Take the net! Take the net! shouted Liam. The first weights are caught in the iron-wood thicket. Shit! I'll have to get the axe, Liam said resignedly.

Oh sherd! You'll never cut the branches! They're wet!

I'll have to cut the net then.

No-ooo-oh! wailed Sunyev. I just finished that net. It's kist new! Liam, if you cut…

With a grunt, Liam severed the first weights from the net. The near part of the net rose to the top and billowed buoyed by air, drifting in the slight current. Berries whirled over the edge of the net and swept out through the pond mouth. They jiggled below the surface, and reappeared moments later; a red stain on the jade surface of the stream, and were carried away.

Furious, Sunyev flung herself at Liam. He endeavored to fend her off with his free hand, stumbling backward into the iron-wood thicket up to his knees in water. The axe went flying.

Ow! Vesper take it! he cursed, as iron-wood thorn raked across his neck and shoulders. Borne down by fifty three kilograms of recklessly pummeling girl, he slid further down the bank, arms and legs flying wildly. He twisted desperately and grabbed at the hawkberry vines festooning the huge, dead, iron-wood tree near the edge of the pond. For a moment they held, then fell in graceful draperies over girl and man. Liam spat out the bitter leaves, trying to rid himself of the sticky, galling taste of hawkberry leaf sap.

Goddess damn it! he swore. Spitting and coughing, he angrily struggled up the bank dragging Sunyev with him. Now you're going to get it! How could you be such a damn fool? he demanded. He flipped her across his legs, face down, and smacked her across her buttocks. Her heavy, blue dyed, llama wool skirt was bunched around her waist. BARE BUTTOCKS! Liam stopped with his hand in the air. Oh Goddess! Sunyev, I'm sorry, I-I. Oh bloody hell! I didn't mean… He ground to a stop.

Sunyev righted herself jerkily, and tugged futilely at her skirt. How dare you!

White faced, she pulled herself up. With bedraggled dignity she stalked stiffly through the trees and across the meadow to the houk. She stepped on to the vanda porch. Father, Elder Sister, she greeted. She inclined her head regally and passed into the dim interior of the houk trailing pond water and hawkberry vines. Her father gazed after her quizzically. Elder Sister raised an eyebrow, struggling to smother laughter, and shrugged when she met Danh's eyes. No, Sunyev had never thought to be Chosen.

Later, at moonrise, she heard a noise on the vanda and stepped through her bedroom shutters. She found two buckets of hawkberries and the net, carefully mended, on the steps. Liam. Liam, she called softly. Are you there? Liam? She went down the steps and circled the houk searching for the tall familiar form of Liam. The dew was achingly, sharply cold on her bare feet as she walked out to the front gate. There she found the Vesper star affixed to the latch post. CHOSEN! Chosen! Oh, Goddess! Noooo! Oh, Liam, she whispered brokenly.

Did he know? Had he seen? Had he come in the front, or the side over the stile? If he came in the side then he would probably have gone out the same way and through the kist orchard. She didn't know. She sank to the walk and buried her head in her hands her face wet with tears. Sunyev had loved Liam since they were children and she forgave him now. Oh yes, she knew he hadn't meant to, well It had been an accident, and Vesper knows she had asked for it. She had loved him since forever. She had loved him when they were children racing through the kist orchards, stealing kist to throw to the kites on Kite Over-Hill. They had both watched excitedly as the kites dived and screamed, fighting over the kist, tearing the juicy bits from the shells. And that time she had fallen in the groat hole; he had stayed by her all night through the rain and the cold calling words of encouragement and comfort to her. Would she ever be able to talk with him again as they had talked then? They had pledged themselves for life that night, always and forever to each other.

The Chosen did not talk with men other than those of their family. The Chosen visited with the male members from behind a beautifully carved grill of iron-wood. It screened them from all physical contact with their loved ones. This she had been told by Grandfather Danten, so she knew it for a fact. Oh Liam, she mourned.

He had refused to leave her all that night even for a moment fearing the groat's return. Morning had brought help; Sunyev had been pulled out by rope. Liam, his blue eyes red rimmed and anxious, had slipped muddily down into the hole to hold her close for a few minutes and tie the rope securely around her trembling form.

Now she was Chosen, never would she be free to follow her heart's desire. The Chosen did not marry, or bear children, or visit their family houk. Soundlessly she began to rock back and forth. Danh found her there, when he arose in the dawn to take the llamas to pasture, her gown wet with dew and tears. He held her a long time; he hadn't known Elder Sister had affixed the Vesper star to the latch post. Danh stayed by her side all that day, while his father, Danten, took the llamas to pasture. They comforted each other as well as they could.

Liam, she did not see, not then, not until an eon and a world had passed away forever beyond her kin. She sighed, and turned over in the strange narrow bed of her lonely, tower room, and finally slipped into restless, dream haunted sleep.

Chapter II

1. The Goddess, Honorae, fashioned the five peoples of the earth by Her loving art; 2. from Her heart came man to love and serve Her; 3. from Her brow sprang the great oscinae, of the air to be guardians there; 4. from Her waters came the serena to be the sea's children; 5. out of Her glorious hair made she the lannekee of the woods to preserve all that is good; 6. Her laughter shaped the jillie to be Her great delight, stout of heart, small in height. 7. The Goddess breathed upon the five peoples and gave them life. Then set She them upon the earth. 8. Increase and multiply saidith the Goddess, and be ye the salt of the earth. 9. The Lady showed man the five peoples, of which man was the first. 10. She showed him all thecreatures of the seas and the air and the earth and all that lives beneath the earth, and set him over them, to have dominion over them. 11. Now it came to pass that man was contentious, and ruled not wisely, but oppressed the peoples and slaughtered the creatures of the earth. 12. Honorae, saidith, Why do ye oppress my peoples? Why do ye waste my innocent creatures? 13. Man stood proudly before the Lady and said, Ye gave man dominion over all. The Goddess was wroth with man for his pride.

Book of Honorae, circa Anno Honorae 2033. Jen. 2:1-13

Liam picked himself up, and panting heavily, slithered up the bank dragging the tail end of the net with him. He secured it to a branch of the dead, iron-wood tree and sat exhausted, surveying the damage. His neck and shoulders felt swollen and were beginning to burn; A million, nettle ants stinging, he thought. He scooped up mud and plastered it liberally on his neck and under his tunic across his shoulders. He brushed desultorily at the vines clinging to his clothing. Ah, he breathed. The cool mud was soothing taking some of the sting away.

He chuckled; Sunyev had looked droll stumping away across the meadow streaming pond water and hawkberry vines, her bright hair glowing copper in the sunlight. Comical and beautiful. He thought about her, the memory of creamy thighs and rounded buttocks tantalizing his mind. He groaned and beat his fists against his legs, feeling his groin tighten and bulge. A white heat mounted up through his loins quickly followed by chagrin and self-deprecation. Goddess, how he wanted her. She was so young; he had always held back. He loved her and knew with a hard bright certainly he would always love her. He got up, pacing back and forth.

Would she ever forgive him? Tussles there had always been, mostly in play. Vesper be damned! His little childhood playmate had grown to be a lovely, desirable woman while he had kept on thinking of her as a child. Yes, he had always wanted her, but he hadn't thought of her as a woman. She had just been Sunyev, Sunyev whom he had thought of as part of his life and would always be part of his life. Sunyev, whom he would someday marry when she was old enough. They would set up their own houk and have their children. It was something taken for granted. It had never been a physical thing, until now, and now--oh Goddess! His thoughts whirled incoherently.

He was really angry with himself, and no doubt Sunyev was even more angry with him. He shouldn't have been so cavalier with her. A little patience would have avoided an argument and saved the net. He had never struck her before. Shit! He sat down abruptly, staring disconsolately at the torn net.

He had arrived, already troubled and upset to accompany Sunyev to Sidepond. He had almost decided not to go, but he had promised and he knew she would need his help with the berries. It was just that he had received that notice to report to the Captain at Camp Arrow, and he didn't know what it meant. He had a peculiar, leaden feeling that it boded ill. Vesperday, eight month past, his birthfriend, Jerid, had received just such a summons. The next Vesperday Jerid had gone Northron to Fort Apel to report for guard duty training. Fort Apel was located just Southron of the Fringes along the border. Liam's father had gone to fight in the Fringe wars nine year past; he had not returned. Liam received a letter and a handsome medal instead.

It was buzzed about, the Lannekee were gathering. A thing not heard of since the War of the Horse, when the Lannekee had allied themselves with the Sarns from oversea and attacked Seahold in 3931. True, there were encounters on the Old Everan Grove Road; attacks on lone merchants, even a caravan. The caravans traveled in trains of fifty, or a hundred wagons, and seldom was any real damage done excepting a riding beast lost or slain. The Lannekee regarded it as their right to levy a toll of beasts on the caravans traveling the road through the forest. As for the lone goods train, they escaped with their lives and goods, and usually at least one or two beasts to haul their goods. Mostly, they walked out in relatively good shape. It was said the Lannekee were fond of the small, hardworking donkeys used by the traders. The agile donkeys safely transported trading goods over the rough mountain passes and narrow forest trails. Fond of, as-in-the-pot; no Lannekee would ever ride. They scorned the use of animals to save their legs. A Lannekee was proud of his ability to run all through a day and a half and still have enough energy to wrestle a groat. The Lannekee even ran down prongers on the plains beyond the walls of Istlan. Usually singling out a young buck from the vast herd, running the animal to exhaustion, and laughing and whooping when they caught it.

They were a strange, wild, proud race, humanoid with catlike furry ears and faint stripes across their forearms and legs. The pupils of their eyes were vertical and green as forest leaves.

Liam sighed, despair eating at his heart. He feared he had mortally offended Sunyev. Would she ever forgive him? He felt dull and sick; his eyes fell on the ravaged net, and the buckets standing forlorn. Sunyev had carefully, with dignified grace, set them on the other side of the pond. He would have to make it up to her. He had best get to it before dark. He cast an eye at the sun, about two hours at the most before sunset. Methodically, he rearranged the net, and going from one vine draped tree to another, shook the berries down. The trees stood in the water one or two meters apart draped in hawkberry vines.

The berries fell in the water where they floated within the net enclosure. They were firm and ripe; he munched a handful, juice dripping from his chin. Mmmmm, tart and sweet and a little crunchy. Just right, he decided. He stooped and sluiced water over his face, rinsing the juice from it.

Well, to it; he walked around the pond, first one side, then the other, tugging at the net, resetting floats, gathering the rosy harvest. It was harder with the first weights missing on one side. His muscular arms, tanned a deep reddish brown, corded with effort, mud drying and flaking off. Blood oozed from the deep scratches and puncture wounds on his neck and powerful, young shoulders. He waved away the hurt-flies, which settled repeatedly on the raw scratches. The wounds burned with fire, feverish now. Even dead, iron-wood trees retained some of the poison of the living, he reflected. Back and forth he walked, one side to the other, carrying the weights and dragging the net, gradually drawing the net tighter, closing the opening. Wearily he drew the net up on the bank with its ruby burden. He estimated he had about sixteen kilos. It was tiring, tedious work with only one person to pull both sides. He missed Sunyev's ready hand and bright spirit. He brushed dark blond hair out of his eyes and groaned wearily.

He slipped and fell, losing a third of the berries. He cursed and rubbed his knee, and his hand came away dripping blood. There was a nasty gash slantwise across his kneecap looking worse than it really was. At least he hoped it wasn't as bad as it looked. He searched and found the rock, which had cut his knee, in the deep grass. Angrily he tossed it at the iron-wood trees. It hit the water and made a loud plop startling a tree frog. Green as grass with bright, jeweled eyes, the frog gave a startled croak and jumped into the water. Liam laughed, his good humor restored.

He opened the far end of the net, and shook down a few more berries into it. Most of them missed the net entirely. He shook his head, grunted and began the dreary process again; pick up the weights and pull.... Careful, he told himself, hold the net steady and taut. He worked several more minutes and sighed. At last he had the net pulled up completely on the bank, with just the part holding the berries still in the water. Hurriedly he scooped the berries into the buckets. Pain was a steel knife edging up through the base of his skull. It was dusk now. It would be full dark in another fourthan. He paused to light the two, seed oil lanterns. He still had to mend the net. Damn! With the sun down behind the trees it was growing chill. It was still early spring and a cool one at that. He shivered, and rummaged through his pack for dry pants and socks, his tunic would have to do. It wasn't particularly wet, but the rents from the thorns let the cool breezes in. He changed quickly, then felt in the pack for his weights. He retrieved two and hefted them. Felt about right for firsts. Now where was his shuttle? He hunted for a needle to thread the cord through the weights. Aha! It was his shuttle and then a needle.

Thoughtfully he rubbed the smoothness of the shuttle, savoring the satiny feel. Uncle Sethan had given it to him when he was no more than a tad. He treasured the shuttle, and thought back to the quiet afternoon Sethan had found him hiding in the willow-jack thicket behind the houk.

His father, a tall, slim, hard muscled man with piercing eyes, had called him into the still room that morning and bade him sit down on the ancient, broken sofa. Fridian, the old hound, who always accompanied his father at his herb duties, was lounging on the sofa gazing sadly at him. His father had quietly told Liam he had some bad news to tell him, sad news. Liam had looked at his father apprehensively, as he came around the herb table and sat carefully down beside him. As if he would break, Liam thought.

Son, his voice faltered, broke. Your mother has, has gone to be with the Goddess.

When will she be back? Why didn't she tell me? She didn't say good-bye! Liam protested.

Liam, oh Liam, his father started to get up, then sank down beside the boy, his shoulders shaking. He put his hands up to his face. Oh Liam, I'm afraid your mother won't be coming back home, he said, his voice harsh with unshed tears, his face gray under the bronze of his tan.

Not ever? Liam whispered.

His father, Juden, breathed in deeply and sighed, Liam, you know your mother has been ill for a long time. She has gone to be with the Goddess now and the Goddess wants her to stay.

But, b-b-but we need her, I need her. I'm just a little boy. What will we do? he gulped.

Uncle Sethan will be here and I'll be here. We both love you very much, and your mother won't be sick and hurting anymore. She'll be able to run and laugh with the Goddess. Think about that; she won't suffer anymore, Juden said with an effort.

I want Mother, Liam wailed. He ran sobbing from the room and out the back door slamming the screen behind him. Fridian bounded after Liam who ran to his special place in the willow thicket. He threw himself down on the cool, dew wet leaves and grass. Fridian crouched beside him whining and occasionally licking the back of Liam's neck in concerned sympathy. Liam hugged the dog to him crying into his rough coat, his nostrils full of the smell of earth and leaves and damp dog. He felt like a small, hurt animal crawling off to die. He wanted to die! That's what going to the Goddess really meant. Mother was dead! He pounded the earth with small, dirty fists sobbing out his anger and pain.

Uncle Sethan had found him there and touched him briefly on the shoulder. Sethan had been a warrior of no small prowess and had fought in the War of the Horse. The Sarns from oversea had come up Five Fingers to the Istlandiana River Sea, and supported by the Lannekee, had sacked Istlan. Sethan was little now from toiling on their farm, yet he was hale and strong. His brown eyes clouded in his gaunt face, he studied the boy. He said gruffly, "There, there Boy, mustn't take on so. We'll be all right. We'll make it. Here Boy, always meant to give you this, came from Seahold on the coast. Beyond Istlan, it is.

I had it from my mother, she made it. She'd be proud to know you have it. He shuffled off, his head bent. His hands gripped each other behind his back, the knuckles white with strain. Sellen had been his only sister and it came to Liam that Uncle Sethan was as sad as he was. Liam, saying nothing, rubbed the satiny shuttle, feeling obscurely comforted. He jumped up and ran after his uncle, tucking his small grimy hand in his uncle's larger one. They walked in silence to the squirmy tank behind the houk.

Want to go fishing? Sethan asked, peering in the tank. Liam nodded dumbly and Sethan dipped squirmy from the tank into a bucket. They spent the afternoon, on into dusk, sitting side by side on the banks of Corkscrew. They talked quietly about nothing in particular ignoring their poles in the water. They shared the burden of their loss and loneliness. Liam had held the shuttle, turning it over and over in his hand, studying it intently. The device had a squirmy etched on either side, dyed in soft rich earth tones, dancing on its tail. There was something inscribed beneath the squirmies. He showed it to his uncle.

What does it say, Uncle Sethan? he tugged at his uncle's sleeve.

Sethan considered the inscription. Well, literally it says, Walk across the waters joyfully, but the sea folk would say, he hesitated a moment. I think, Dance on the waters. Your grandmother is one of the sea folk.

Does that make me one of the sea folk too? What does it mean, can you teach me to read it? cried Liam.

Whoa! That's three questions. No, you're not one of the sea folk; my father and your father came out of Istlan. Your grandmother always said it meant, ‘Greet life with a light heart, even if it is sometimes sad, or the waters deep and scary. ‘

Is Grandmother really one of the sea folk? And can you teach me to read like the sea folk?

Yes and yes. She is and I can. She used to make nets for the taking of fish.

Didn't they use squirmy for bait like we do?

No, they don't have the freshwater squirmy on the coast. The sea squirmy is a large animal, not a fish, but a mammal, and it's as smart as a man. I've even heard stories of squirmies saving sailors from drowning when their ships foundered. Some do say, the squirmy isn't an animal at all, but a human in squirmy form.

And do they dance on their tails?

They certainly do, I seen them myself, his uncle asserted. Think we better go to the houk. It’s gettin' dark, Liam.

Liam never remembered if they caught anything or not. He didn't think he had even baited his hook, although the bait bucket sat between them the whole time. The squirmy had been dead when they emptied the bucket in Corkscrew. Sethan had shaken his head, with a curious, regretful look, as they trudged off into the gathering darkness; a suddenly old man and a boy.

They were alone now. Patient, loving Sellen was gone. Gone to join her a year later, Juden; Liam's father had left for the Fringe wars and never come home.

When Sethan and Liam had returned to the houk, a glimmering paleness waited on the back steps that resolved into Sunyev's small face. The light auburn hair was mussed and had leaves and twigs caught up in it, the violet eyes shadowed and tight with strain. She had her chin propped in her hands; tear runnels etched her dust laden cheeks. She rubbed at them with little fists stained red with hawkberry juice smearing it over her face. She had been down at Sidepond when they told her and had come running immediately to Liam's houk. She had waited through all the dreary after-noon. Her face twisted in anguish for Liam and for Sellen, whom she had loved almost as much as she loved Liam. She threw herself at him hugging him fiercely, burying her face in his stomach. She was five and Liam eleven at the time.

Now he wondered if he was going to have to go away and leave her. That summons to report to Camp Arrow was worrisome. No plan could cover the nagging uncertainty of it. What should he do? Liam sighed and slowly began to mend the net

Restless all the following week Liam elected to build a new fence around the fowl yard thinking to quiet his mind. It didn't seem to be helping much, he thought ruefully. He paused at his fence building, and for the tenth time in as many days, reread the summons.

Liam te Shampin te Belle Honor

Vespatown on the Redwine

Salute:

You are hereby summoned to Headquarters,

First Army Foot Regulars, Camp Arrow,

Vespatown on the Redwine,

to appear first Juno, 3966, seventeenthan hour,

for orders urgent to the people's peace.

Captain General Anselm il Lesnaline

Istlan at New Riabela

Done this day, 10 Mayar, 3966

How was he ever going to make it through the next day? This was the twenty-seventh day of Mayar, and the day after tomorrow would be the first of Juno. What did it mean? He wasn't in the army reserves like Jerid. They couldn't order him off for guard training, they couldn't! By Goddess he wouldn't go. The army be damned, they had no jurisdiction over him.

Damn and damn again! He swung the mallet of iron-wood at a post viciously and hit it off center. The post split. Sharp, splintered fragments flew across