Elkadanu: The Kaerling, #9

By Freya Pickard

As Lored attempts to investigate the truth of the charges brought against Rue, the herb woman, Tari tries to hide her insecurities and doubts behind a facade of serenity.

 

"This is a fantastic read. The characters are all well drawn and the landscape through which the characters move is familiar and easily imaginable, yet quite magical as well." W Thomas

 

Lored and Tari must keep the twins' presence on the Isle of Kiros a secret, as the taku-kevir starts to question witnesses to events that happened over a year before.

 

But Lored's investigations are hampered by the Kirridian fascination for horse-racing.

 

If Lored can't free the herb woman from prison, he and Otta (who is in hiding) won't be able to travel north to continue their pursuit of the kaerlings who have abducted Lally and Derri.

 

This fantasy tale will grip you from page one and won't let you go until you've read every single volume in the series! If you enjoy Terry Brooks, David Eddings, Tad Williams and/or JRR Tolkien, you'll love The Kaerling.

 

The Kaerling is a series of linked novellas that can be read individually as well as in chronological order.

 

Warning: contains scenes of a sexual nature and some violence which some readers may find upsetting.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Freya Pickard
• Release date: May 2, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201735388

Freya Pickard

Pushcart Prize nominee, Freya Pickard, is the quirky, unusual author of The Kaerling series, an epic fantasy set in the strange and wonderful world of Nirunen. A cancer survivor, she writes mainly dark fantasy tales and creates expressive poetry in order to leach the darkness from her soul. Her aim in life is to enchant, entertain and engage with readers through her writing. She finds her inspiration in the ocean, the moors, beautifully written books and vinyl music (particularly heavy metal and rock). She enjoys Hatha Yoga, Bhangra and Yogalates and in her spare time creates water colours and pastel drawings of the worlds in her head.

Book preview

for Willow

Year of the Unicorn Ascending

Leaf Fall on Kiros

Chapter One

Tari held the divining rod in her hands, feeling the peeled bark beneath her fingers. She walked slowly up and down on the short turf, all her senses open to the slightest quiver in her hands. Nothing.

As she walked, she imagined she was Undine, priestess of Aqua, who had been her protector, confidant and guide for nearly a year. Undine had been tall and slender and serene. Tari was not tall and was curvy, rather than slim and, until recently, hadn't felt serene at all. However, the treu-priestess had learnt, that by just pretending to be Undine, she could feel calm and confident, and that, in turn, encouraged other people to think she was serene.

This was especially important in the Cathair on Kiros where everyone looked at Tari all the time. Her relationship with the Queen was secure but Tari couldn't afford to let anyone else know how terrified she was of this role that Lored, the taku-kevir had thrust upon her.

Tari paused at the edge of the hill and set the forked hazel stick on the ground, releasing her fingers, flexing her wrists. She stared south over land and sea, looking down at the Cathair below. From here, the castle appeared small; the tops of grey walls and slate roofs were dull beneath the clouded sky. A pale road wound through the town below the Cathair, ending at the harbour with toy-size boats and ships at anchor. The ocean was flat and grey and stretched out in a large curve towards the far horizon. To her right green, wooded hills cast shadows towards the castle, and, to her left undulating farmland gave way to a distant darkness that Tari assumed was the Wild Wood.

She thought momentarily of Erl, wondering where he was, what he was doing. She spared only a fleeting thought for Otta, hoping, despite her dislike of the woman, that she wouldn't be caught by the Kirridians. Then her thoughts turned to Lally, captured by the kaerlings, aboard The Sharresh-idenru, on its way to the land of Jargoiden. Behind her, someone coughed and Tari picked up the divining rod again, turning to face Queen Raith and the courtiers accompanying her.

Tari and the Queen had spent an hour in the Royal quarters after luncheon; Tari praying to Aqua for a child for the Queen. Although still in awe of her royal personage and all that she stood for, Tari felt close to Raith.

Tari had only seen fifteen summers. Raith was just five years her elder, married, with a miscarriage the previous year. Both women felt vulnerable with a position to hold. Tari hadn't shared her own fears with the Queen; quite how to explain her true quest, she wasn't sure. So she had kept to the tale Lored had invented, when they'd gained access to Kiros. Tari had never heard of the lost star of the iendu. She wasn't even sure what or who the iendu were. Raith had told her to speak with the royal bard, Comhcheol; apparently he knew most of the local legends. The treu-priestess sighed. She imagined Comhcheol to be aged, probably as old as Regan. She didn't like talking to men, except for Erl. She smiled at the Queen as the courtiers stared.

Once again Tari walked across the turf, slowly swinging the hazel rod from side to side. There was not a twitch or flicker to indicate where the springs were. She paused once more, before the Queen and closed her eyes. She didn't need the divining rod, she never had. Tari only used one because most people wanted to see how the diviner found water.

She listened, hearing the breeze in the grass and the whispers of the people around her. The earth beneath her feet was moist but of the springs that fed the Cathair there was no sign. Tari knew that springs could last forever or they could last only one season. According to Queen Raith, the springs had not failed in nearly a thousand years. Raith believed the disappearance of the springs had something to do with the White Hart's death that summer.

Tari was more inclined to believe that the springs had simply come to the end of their natural life. She bent her thoughts on the nearby hilltops that curved above the North Fields where Kirridian horsemen practised battle manoeuvres. Two hilltops sang with liquid energy, pulling her towards them. Tari opened her eyes and looked at the Queen.

Your Majesty, I cannot tell you why the springs have failed.

Queen Raith's pale face looked drawn and haunted. It wasn't just the miscarriage last year that ate at her; it was her inability to conceive again. Tari wanted to hug the Queen, but such an action would not be politic in front of her people. Despite hating the politics of the Temple in Aura Vere, Tari had learnt a lot during her seven years there. And it seemed that castle politics were no different from Temple affairs. Tari had to help the Queen present a strong front, with no hint of weakness.

However, two of the other hills appear to have springs in them. I can divine the best places to start digging if you wish?

The courtiers behind the Queen looked impressed and Sheila, the small, mousey-haired maid who'd been assigned to Tari, smiled brightly. On the other side of Raith stood dark-haired Moira, her face devoid of expression. The Queen nodded slowly, her grey eyes sombre.

There is a river to the east of the Cathair, and wagons collect river water in casks twice a day, which will keep us in water until new wells and sluices are built. I will organise an escort to accompany you to the hilltops where you think springs might be found.

Moistness brushed Tari's face and curls as the breeze swept up and around the hill.

Come. We will return to the Cathair now. The Queen commanded and led the way downhill.

Tari followed in her wake, aware of the courtiers to either side and behind her. Quite why the Queen hadn't ridden to Spring Hill, Tari didn't know. But she was very grateful to walk. She hated riding and wasn't sure her sea bound muscles would have coped with a hill ride that afternoon. She still felt stiff and tight from the voyage to Port Rioga. Walking downhill loosened her muscles and she breathed in the damp, slightly salty air, wondering where Lored was.

TARI'S SKIRTS AND CLOAK were damp by the time they reached the Cathair once more, and as they entered the main gate, the cloud lifted and sunshine touched the walls with gentle light. Queen Raith was met by Nosuil, her steward, who spoke quietly and intensely. Tari, unused to carrying a divining rod, no matter how light it was, wished to ease her arms, but could hardly ask Sheila or any of the courtiers to hold the hazel stick for her. Even away from the Temple, she was still bound by the need to keep up appearances.

She caught Sheila's eye and the girl smiled at her. Does it take long to learn divining?

Tari shook her head. It's not something you can learn. You either have the talent, or not.

How can you tell? Sheila's pale eyes shone with interest.

Tari wondered what the girl's life was like; serving the Queen, running errands, dealing out divining cards for her, hoping to make a good marriage under the Queen's auspices.

You find a place where you know water exists, you take the divining rod and when you feel the wood twitch beneath your fingers, that's the sign that you are attuned to water.

Sheila's eyebrows shot up. Can people be attuned to other things?

But before Tari could reply, the Queen spoke to them. Everyone is dismissed, except Tari,  Sheila and Nosuil. Moira, I will eat in two hours time and Tari will eat with me. Please return the divining rod to the Royal Chapel.

The courtiers dispersed and Moira took the forked hazel stick from the treu-priestess with a nod. Tari looked at the Queen who smiled in a conspiratorial fashion.

Capall and his horse traders are here! Delight shone in her pale eyes. They have brought  three horses with them and I want a glimpse of them now. Follow me!

Nosuil accompanied them to the stables, his face screwed up in distaste as the smells of manure and damp straw increased. They followed the Queen into a large barn-like structure. The light was dim and grooms hurried back and forth with harnesses in their hands. The manoeuvres in North Fields had finished and the horses were being groomed and fed.

Here! Raith peered over a partition where three horses in a spacious stall, ate stolidly from three separate mangers.

Sheila, who could just see over the top, exclaimed; They're large!

Tari swallowed hard. She'd got used to Plodder on the long journey from Aura Vere to Port Hollis, but she'd never liked the gelding. These three horses were, as Sheila so aptly put it – large. There was no way Tari could ride any of them. There was a tall, glossy black with sleek muscles and the look of a fighter. There was a brown cob who looked like a farm horse and then there was a slim-legged, long-necked, pale-coated stallion with a flaxen mane.

Oh! Aren't they beautiful? Queen Raith whispered.

Nosuil grimaced and said nothing, jumping slightly as the three long heads turned to view the visitors.

Tari supposed that if one liked horses then maybe these three were beautiful. She couldn't see it herself; she just saw scary beasts with teeth that might bite, hooves that might kick and broad backs that one could quite easily slip off. She thought of Erl again and his advice when they left Aura Vere; how she should look between the gelding's ears to stop herself falling. She smiled fondly, missing his presence and conversation.

Raith mistook her smile for agreement. "We'll let the horses rest a few days and then ask the traders to put