Resolved: Four Stars Over Ardatz: Sovereigns, #5

By Kandi J Wyatt

If you had to lose everything, what day would you choose?

 

When ten-year-old Mairead asks about her father, Siobhan falters. How can she expose Mairead to the pain and rejection that shattered her world leaving them both with wounds Siobhan can't find the strength to face? But keeping that loss at bay has also kept her daughter at a distance, and the future queen's childhood is rapidly slipping away.

 

As if that wasn't enough, their kingdom is on the brink of civil war, with discord being sown in its border regions and powerful magic-users threatening their dreams. Amidst the chaos, Siobhan finds that an old friend has become Mairead's surrogate father—and Siobhan's closest confidant—but trying to discern between her heart and the best interests of the realm has left her torn. It seems that whatever she chooses will require a courage she doesn't possess.

 

With war on the horizon and a second chance at love awaiting her decision, Siobhan seeks peace in the pages of an old journal, but the first dragon king's words convey a faith in Jeeah that defies anything Siobhan has ever experienced. Can she give up her fear and entrust herself—and her only child—to the one who has seen her this far? Or will the cost be too great to bear?

 

Resolved is the fifth book in the coming-of-age fantasy series, Four Stars over Ardatz: Sovereigns. If you like action, multi-dimensional clean romance, and addictive stories, you'll love Kandi J Wyatt's book.

 

Grab Resolved to continue the adventure.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kandi J Wyatt
• Release date: Jul 11, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215673300

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

Chapter 1

Focus is what I need , or so Coop tells me. He says I have great talent, but ‘twill do me no good without training. So, every step, sometimes multiple times, I work the caines —all eight of them. I won’t admit to him that they help (he’s smug enough in his wisdom as ‘tis), and it surprised me at first, but now—now, they’re like a thick cloak and a hot drink in the midst of the rains. The caines are achievable, perfectable. Like so little else in life.

~Blaine, king of Muintir

5811 AI

Cahar, Muintir

6135 AI

A STRAY DROP OF RAINWATER traced its way down Siobhan’s cheek, but she ignored it, her attention focused completely on Kyeth. Even Tiarnan’s strident voice couldn’t sway her. She allowed her boots to sink into the sand as she prepared for the cannonsea’s attack.

It came swift and brutal as was his custom—direct and to the point. Instead of taking the brunt of his swing, she sidestepped and slashed, but he was as ready for her strike as she’d been for his. Scuffing her feet through the sand, she rounded to face him again. Kyeth mirrored her, his blade at the ready. Their eyes locked. In that moment she knew she’d been correct—he wasn’t going to let the council claim she’d not earned her victory. He would test her in truth. And that meant he believed, in truth, that she could beat him.

His charge came before she was ready, his blade seeking her weaknesses, probing forcing her to focus on her defense to the exclusion of all else. She sidestepped, parried, turned aside a thrust, but then she wavered as Tiarnan’s voice carried over the pounding of the rain on the canvas, I can’t believe this.

Padraig hushed him, but the distraction was enough for Kyeth to use his larger frame to push through the strength of her arms and collapse them. In the space of a thought, Siobhan had gone from a sturdy stance to a tenuous, straining effort to push his blade away with her own. And within another heartbeat she felt that she’d not hold out. He was too strong, even if he hadn’t been in the superior position, and already the steel edge was barely a hand away from her own face.

Remembering her early lessons, she abruptly realized how heavily Kyeth had sunk his weigh into his front foot. He wouldn’t be able to move it easily, and that made it a target. She planted her heel decisively on the arch of his foot and ground down.

He grunted and retreated, a wry hint of a smile on his face. This gave her the opportunity she needed to think and collect her frazzled offense.

Gripping her sword, she sifted through her options: head on, wait to counter, or feint. With Kyeth’s current attitude, straight on would be foolhardy. A feint had sealed her victory in past matches, but she doubted ‘twould work this moonstep. He knew her tendency toward that tactic and would be expecting it. Counter? It didn’t seem appropriate with the council watching. This match was for Mairead, to prove that her daughter had a right to defend herself against the world. That deserved a stronger statement than waiting for an opportunity to strike. She wanted to make her own chance for victory.

Kyeth approached, and the two circled. He attacked again with a rising slash that she dodged by shifting one foot back, putting her body parallel to the path of the blade. Kyeth lost no time coming back with a heavy strike from above. This time she stepped right and raised her elbows to either side of her face, letting her sword slant down over her left shoulder. The angel of it sent Kyeth’s weapon skittering down and aside. As soon as the blades parted she shifted her feet once more and moved immediately into a thrust of her own. Kyeth jumped back, arching his back to avoid the point in his stomach, which stole his balance and made him scramble as she followed it up, slashing, feinting, and thrusting again, just as he had done only moments before, but when he tried to launch a counterattack she saw—no, felt—it coming and slid aside and in, closing distance as his back struck the wooden rail of the arena. Her blade froze a handbreadth from his chest, her heart alight with triumphant pride.

Well done, he whispered.

A round of applause filled with whoops and hollers pulled her from the battle focus. With a deep breath, she turned lowering her sword. The Rittider were on their feet their riotous cheers filling the air. She saluted them, feeling the smile stretching across her face.

"Chay la Jeeah!" The motto resounded off the blacksmith’s forge, the walls of the armory; even from the baily she could hear the echo come back, so far did their shout carry. She never heard it anymore without being reminded of how she’d become part of their number—how their pledge had changed to include her, their queen.

Lugh smiled and nodded. The other council members closed their mouths and stirred, looking at one another with varying levels of discomfort and shock.

"Bani, ‘twas an excellent bout to watch! Cannonsea, ‘twouldn’t have wanted to be in your shoes." A swarthy-complexioned man with a scar running along his jawline leaned against the railing that separated the ring from the rest of the training center.

Do I need to give you a beating again, Gareth? Siobhan asked with a laugh.

Nah, but mayhap one of those men could use one. He eyed the council members with a scowl. "They don’t look like they belong here, excepting the jiddee’adar, of course."

Siobhan sighed. ’Tisn’t their business to be here, but I couldn’t take any more of their pestering. Kyeth thought this would be a way to silence them.

Pestering, Bani?

Siobhan’s next words came out with a heavier growl than she’d intended. They want to take Mairead away from the training grounds.

What? His face reddened. Just let them try.

Kyeth lay his sword against his shoulder, an accustomed spot to rest it. I think Bani showed them what they needed to see.

Mairead ran up to them, her dark-haired head bobbing with the exuberance only a girl of eight synods could emit. Momma, you were wonderful! she cried, flinging herself into Siobhan’s hug. So were you, Kyeth, but Momma’s better.

The cannonsea ruffled Mairead’s hair. Only because I taught her.

And you’ll train me, too, won’t you?

"Aye, princess, ‘twill be an honor. For now, though, there are some duene who need to speak with your mother. Kyeth offered Siobhan his arm, along with an encouraging smile. Shall we, Ban’frensee?"

She didn’t want to let this moment fade. The peace she always felt at the training ground seemed tainted by the presence of her meddlesome council. But there was no better time than now.

Kyeth waited for her to take the first step, but he leaned across and whispered, If you can best me, you know you can put them in their place.

With a nod, Siobhan placed her hand in the crook of his elbow, and together they strode across the sand to face the men.

Kyeth, why did you allow her to beat you? Tiarnan crossed his arms. "You’re the cannonsea after all."

Allow? Kyeth chuckled. Let me find a jerkin for you, and you’ll see for yourself.

The councilor’s frown deepened. "What? Me, fight a lady?"

Under this roof, all are fighters regardless of gender. Kyeth kept the other’s gaze until Tiarnan looked away.

But, the councilor stared at the floor, a princess isn’t like a commoner.

I should hope not. Siobhan stepped forward, her ire rising despite her best efforts. However, she has every right to be able to protect herself as any prince would.

"I don’t believe that’s the issue, Banfrensee. Padraig placed his hands on his knees and pushed off, coming to his feet with a grunt. If I understood correctly, ‘twasn’t so much that the princess has been spending time around the training center."

Tiarnan scowled, but Padraig forged ahead. "’Tis that our princess has been stating that she’s ready to become a scubhear-in-training herself."

And why not? Siobhan slid her sword into its sheath before she started gesturing with it. That wouldn’t go over well—the queen skewering one of her council members.

"Banfrensee! Tiarnan motioned around the room. Surely, you’re not saying ‘tis a proper place for a princess?"

Hadn’t she just proved ‘twas acceptable?

"Tiarnan, when you’re a father, you can have the say over your child. I am Mairead’s mother—the only parent she has. She clenched her hand around the pommel of her sword. And unless you are calling me an unfit parent, then I say that my daughter can train here and be raised as a prince—or princess—deserves."

Padraig patted Tiarnan on the shoulder. I do believe the queen has made her point. She’s proven herself able to defend herself, and, he paused gazing around at the Rittider who all seemed to have taken guard positions around Mairead, I see nothing inappropriate for a young lady. Which leads me to assume this is a safe place for a princess to learn—probably the safest in the kingdom.

Dughlas chuckled. "Pardon, duene, but he does have a point. Where else but with the royal bodyguards would a princess be protected best?"

Tiarnan sighed. Very well, but I still don’t think ‘tis appropriate. A lady should be busy with needlework and keeping a home, not fighting.

Siobhan reigned her voice into tight control. "If this lady was only busy with needlework and keeping a home, you’d have no one to rule your country, duene. She took a shallow breath. Mairead will be queen in my absence. Therefore, she must learn to fight, as well as govern."

"Aye, Banfrensee. Tiarnan nodded. Mayhap you’re right."

Mayhap? Of course, she was correct! But saying anything now, ‘twould send the man back to arguing.

Mairead glanced between the councilors and Siobhan, then with a decisive step forward, she curtsied to the councilors. "Thank you, duene."

The men smiled at her attempt of propriety, despite her trousers and training tunic.

"You’re welcome, Kailah," Padraig bowed, and then ushered the rest out.

Lugh stood slowly, and his smile was visible even through his thick white beard. "Well done, Inene."

‘Twasn’t until the door closed, that Siobhan felt her shoulders release the remaining tension.

Momma? Mairead grasped her hand. "Does that mean I can continue to be a scubhear-in-training, and one step become a scubhear?"

"Aye, Inene, it does."

Seamus stepped forward. "Kailah, let me show you to your weapon."

With a light in her eyes, Mairead nodded, and followed the Rittider away. Siobhan watched, contented. It’d been worth every part of the fight with the council to allow her daughter the freedom she herself had longed for as a young princess.

Look, Momma! Mairead ran out of the armory, but Seamus stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

The first thing you must learn is to not run in the training grounds with a weapon in your hand. There’ll come a time where you’ll practice running, but not with a bare sword unless you are in battle and plan to use it to defend your kingdom.

Aye, Seamus.

Siobhan, I thought you said you’d give me a beating this step. Gareth leaned against the wall, his sword at his side. "Or did the cannonsea take all your fight out?"

My momma can beat you any step, Gareth. Mairead turned to the Rittider.

"Let her prove it, cahleen."

With a wink at her daughter, Siobhan bowed. "Let Seamus teach you the caine while I put a Rittider in his place."

Chapter 2

Awound left covered for too long will fester. So it is with a broken heart.

~Zamira, wife of Abhainn, fasah of Lochlann

2342 AI

Cahar, Muintir

6135 AI

SIOBHAN STRODE THROUGH the halls of the palace, her still-damp hair braided back. She could have asked someone to bring an oiled cloak to keep off the rain, but she hadn’t had the patience. It’d been a trying moonstep—her frustration with Tiarnan hadn’t quite dissipated yet—but the time in the Rittider arena had, as always, taken the worst edges off of it. ‘Twas time to focus on her daughter. How she’d grown in so short a time. Each synod she’d become more precious to Siobhan, and each synod without Hest made the ache in her heart worse. If only he were here. He’d love the little girl she’d become.

Momma! Mairead ran to Siobhan as she entered the room, her little arms encircling as much of Siobhan’s waist as she could.

"How was the rest of your step, Inene?"

Come look! Mairead dragged her to the desk.

Isn’t it beautiful?

A purple flower sat in a vase.

Aye, ‘tis.

The girl’s love for plants was so like her father’s. Siobhan pushed the pain away. Not this moonstep. She’d not allow it to get her down—the next step, mayhap, but not this one.

Ana helped me cut it and bring it up to my room. We met a boy on our journey, and he said his father’s a farmer and grows things. I told him, I was going to be queen one step.

Aye, ‘tis so. Siobhan smiled at her daughter’s sincerity.

Momma, who’s my father?

Siobhan sucked in air as if a bandage had been ripped from a wound. Even after eight synods, the question hurt.

"’Tis a story for another step, Inene."

The girl’s expressive eyes clouded over. Ana says he was someone very special. Is that true?

Aye, ‘tis true.

Then why won’t you tell me?

With a sigh Siobhan place a finger on Mairead’s nose. Remember how you ask for a story before going to bed each step?

Mairead nodded, her dark braids bouncing.

And remember what ‘twas like when Rydian told you a story that was too scary and you had bad dreams?

Again, the braids bobbed. Is the story of my father scary? Her eyes widened.

Let’s just say there are aspects of it that you’re not quite ready for at eight synods.

When I’m at nine?

Siobhan stood with a smile. Mayhap. What else did you do this step?

Mairead’s face brightened. "We went to the stables, and I was able to meet the head Bayheah. His name’s Achan. Every other time, he’s been too busy, but this step, he took time to show me the horses. Momma, he said I could ride them. May I?"

One step, but right now those horses are much bigger than you.

Aye, but they’re beautiful! There was one that jerked away when we walked past, but Achan said the horse’s lonely. Can a horse be lonely?

I suppose.

Hest knew about horses. Another reminder of her husband so close to the moonstep when he’d left. She put the pain away, burying it deep in her heart where ‘twouldn’t escape.

Achan hummed to him, and he stuck his head over the door. He was dark brown, almost black and so big, but his eyes were sad, Momma. Achan let me pet him and taught me the song that soothes him. Want to hear it?

Siobhan didn’t want to hear it, but she couldn’t hurt her daughter that way. Aye, what was the song?

Mairead hummed a haunting melody that took Siobhan back nine synods when she’d first met Hest. Tears sprung to her eyes, and she dashed them away.

Come, let’s get you ready for bed.

And tell me a story. The girl took the change of topic in stride.

Aye.

About my father.

Mairead! Siobhan’s patience snapped.

The girl’s shoulders slumped. Aye, something else.

Ana shook her head as Siobhan led Mairead to her bed and told her a story about a princess who couldn’t sleep because of a pebble under her mattress. Mairead giggled and cuddled into her blankets. With a final look back, Siobhan blew out the lamp and shut the door.

She grows more precious every step. Ana picked up a sleeping gown and draped it over a chair for Siobhan.

Aye.

If only Hest was here to see her. He’d have been proud of her.

You really should tell her.

I will. Siobhan set the hairpin on her vanity, shaking her head to allow the locks to fall free around her shoulders.

Ana ran the brush through the strands. "When, Banfrensee? You say that each synod. I’ll tell her next synod. Then the step comes and goes and still she has no idea who her father is."

She’s not ready for it yet.

Nay? You should have seen her face when the boy asked her about her father. She had no answer. I had to let them both know he was very special.

Siobhan enjoyed the feel of the brush on her scalp and closed her eyes. She’d faced the council this moonstep, she wasn’t about to allow her maid to push her around.

Fine, ignore me then, but she deserves to know.

And she will! Siobhan turned with a scowl on her face. When she’s ready, I’ll tell her.

Ana shook her head. "Nay, Banfrensee, ‘twon’t be when she’s ready, but when you are. We’ve discussed this for the past five synods. She’s a bright girl, can hold her own among the younger scubhear, but even they have something she doesn’t—the knowledge of their family."

"I said, I’d tell her, and I will." Siobhan put the same firmness into her tone that she’d used with the council.

For a couple of heartbeats, Ana just stood there, the brush in her hand, then with a sigh, she set the brush on the table and nodded. If there’s nothing else then, I’ll be on my way home.

SIOBHAN SANK INTO HER favorite chair in the library, not bothering to light a lamp; the flickering fire was all she needed. Ana would scold her, but Ana had taken Mairead for her lessons with Lugh. That left Siobhan free—free from the council’s disapproval of her parenting, of her parents’ loving concern, and to acknowledge the pain she lived with every waking span.

A moan escaped her. Oh, Hest. Why?

She knew his reasonings, but they still made no true meaning for her. She would have gladly given up Muintir to travel with him wherever he desired to go. They would have been a family then. But no, he’d stormed out of her life, leaving her to be queen of Muintir and mother to Mairead without him. Siobhan rubbed her eyes. Another synod and still no word. Goshkeah sent periodic messages, but he’d