Sweet Acorns: Yecelentan Tales Short Reads, #2

By Kevan Kenneth Bowkett

In the country of Cothirya, imperial judge the Lady Vikka Naurwa must place her own ethics in the scales of justice. 

 

A prequel to the lavish epic fantasy novel Seachild. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sixth Planet Productions
• Release date: Jul 26, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215020418

Kevan Kenneth Bowkett

Kevan Kenneth Bowkett is a Winnipeg writer and researcher. His writing has ranged from an International Convention on the Evaluation of New Technologies to poetry to Elizabethanesque drama in Time’s Fancy: The War of King Henry V and Joan of Arc. He’s also done door-to-door sales, built and slept in an igloo, and run for Parliament. .......... To sign up for Kevan's e-newsletter to keep in touch with his new books, productions, and other projects, please go to http://eepurl.com/g1dX6z

Book preview

1.

The Lady Justice Vikka Naurwa, assigned to the fourteenth court circuit of the Empire, sat alone on the terrace of the public house in Umilu village, drinking cider and looking (as usual) into the darkness. She would have preferred staying at Lord Embu’s big house, but the Commons, growing in power in the capital, had insisted justices stop excessive fraternizing with the aristocracy. So she couldn’t hear cases in the comfort of Embu’s gardens, but must hold court in a public hall – or a barn. She shook her head. Her lieutenant Gaklu had just that day told her the Commons were now pushing in some provinces for commoner representation in courts of law: for something called juries. She shuddered, and recalled the verse her family – and her profession – lived by:

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Lord in manor,

Peasant in cot.

With all in their places,

The land’s free of rot.

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But now the lowly are crawling up into the seats of the high, she thought, and shuddered again.

Another lieutenant, Feruwai, came out of the house. She leaned down to Vikka Naurwa’s ear, and murmured, Plaintiff at the side door, Vikka. A girl-child.

Bring her.

Won’t come. Wants to talk to you in the darkness.

The Justice sighed, put her glass down, rose and followed Feruwai into the house, through the dim and empty bar, and down a torch-lit corridor to the side-door. Feruwai opened it. Come out, little marmoset, she called.

A small face appeared in the light from the door; a hand beckoned. They stepped out, and followed her into the shadows. Above them the Southern Aurora flicked its green curtains across the sky. Amidst the scent of cedar they stopped.

Tell us what it is, child, said Feruwai. "Don’t