Jargoiden: The Kaerling, #13

By Freya Pickard

The companions have reached the shores of Jargoiden in pursuit of their abducted friends, but how do they even start tracking the kaerlings?

 

"The relatively peaceful opening moves through a series of escalating peaks of tension, culminating in an intense and frightening conclusion. There's a great mix of characters who stand out from one another and even contrast  ‐ eg. Tari's vulnerability versus Otta's fearlessness." W Thomas

 

It falls to Lored, the taku-kevir, as the eldest of the companions to find the right road to travel.

 

Not only is the scenery of Jargoiden foreign and alien to the travellers, the very inhabitants of the land seem intent on thwarting the companions' progress…

 

When they're ambushed, Lored and Otta are taken prisoner, whilst Tari and Erl flee blindly into the forest.

 

This Dark Fantasy series can be read as individual books or as part of the chronological sequence. If you're into Osten Ard, Game of Thrones, Middle Earth or Mythago Wood, you'll love this!

 

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

• Language: English
• Publisher: Freya Pickard
• Release date: Feb 20, 2024
• ISBN: 9798223404743

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 Chris

Year of the Unicorn Ascending

Jargoiden

Zangilan Ashurol

Day 2 - 11

Chapter One

The first thing Lored clearly remembered was the scent of apple blossom on a cool, spring breeze. He recalled how the gentle breath teased his short locks, blowing auburn strands across his face as he sat in a clearing.

Waiting to hear the god speak, he felt a prickle of recognition as the young leaves above his head flickered and rustled. Beyond the sound of bark squeak and leaf movement, there was another voice; inhuman yet somehow reassuring.

As he grew up in the forest he became aware of the seemingly wordless songs that wove their way through grass blade and fluttering leaf at all times of the day. Whether ice cracked in long, sharp fingers from outstretched branches, or the golden haze of midsummer illuminated insects and dust motes between towering tree trunks, the music wound its way faintly through the air. In time, he came to hear the secret words hidden beneath the layers of melody and learnt the meaning of the power behind them.

In time, he learnt to speak, not only the language of those he lived amongst, but also the speech of the world outside. The second language felt abrupt and sharp, compared to the rhythmical, fluid words of the Zoratti.

He knew he had a mother and a father but his guardians had long ago told him it was for his own protection that he had to live apart from them. He didn’t miss his parents, only having a vague recollection of an auburn-haired woman and a dark-skinned man bidding him farewell.

The Zoratti provided him with many mothers and fathers, as well as siblings. He learnt to read and write, not only in the language of Zorat, but also in Common. He learnt to distinguish between the wind in the leaves and the almost noiseless sound of a Zoratti walking towards him. He learnt to ride Zoratti style; without bridle or saddle, as well as with both. He learnt how to hunt, how to track prey that would become food for the family. And he learnt how to send his thoughts down the breeze, to communicate mind to mind with those who opened themselves up to him.

His foster family taught him their harmonies but also insisted on teaching him how to sing songs from the world outside their hidden land. Lored found this confusing and tedious. Songs sung in Common were plain and obvious. There was nothing subtle about them and their tunes were simply uninteresting. Zorat music was complex, relying heavily on dissonance in minor keys.

In time, Lored came to understand why he had to learn both the way of Zorat and the ways of the world beyond their borders. When he reached maturity, Kadar, the mother of the Zoratti’s Mother, called him to her and told him the secret of his birth. Her smooth skin belied her true age and Lored felt chilled and uncomfortable in her presence. For, if the Zoratti tales were to be believed (and he believed them), Kadar was the daughter of the Reacher, and thousands of years old.

Kadar told him of his father’s true identity and how he could never tell anyone whose son he was. She informed him of the vow his father had made before Lored had been conceived; that his eldest child would be dedicated to the taku-kevir Tower at Olin Heon and how his youngest child would be dedicated to the Temple in Aura Vere.

Before he reached his fifteenth year, Lored was taken by two of the Zoratti men through secret paths and hidden ways from the land of Zorat to the north coast of Falnaboldu. He was left to climb the steep, zig-zagging path to the top of the hill outside Port Olin. There, at the Tower gate, he simply stated his name as Lored and claimed that his father had dedicated him to the way of the taku-kevir.

He could hear the sighing of the wind in the boughs above his head, as if he still slept in Zorat. He opened his eyes and discovered dawn colouring the sky above the rock beneath which he and his companions lay. He rubbed his eyes and checked the turban that concealed his fast growing hair was secure. Sitting up he gazed at the bright sky, hearing the soughing sea all around him.

His four friends slept peacefully nearby. Nilo snorted in deep dreams as he sat propped against the black rock at his back. Erl twitched as he lay on his side, head resting on his mail coat, one arm outstretched towards Lored’s sister. Tari lay on her back, tousled curls awry, her voluptuous body totally at peace. Otta lay apart from the others, curled up in a similar fashion to her twin, her kaerling-like features for the moment hidden by her long, dark tresses.

Lored stared at the young woman feeling a mixture of fear, admiration and frustration. He feared Otta’s similarity to the evil kaerlings whom the companions pursued. He admired the woman’s strength and source of power. But he also felt frustrated at her ongoing refusal to let him help her control the sheer energy within her. Only a few days before, her power had destroyed two ships, killing all but the companions on board.

One of the Zoratti, Kimorka, who had pretended to be the priestess of Aqua in order to protect Tari from the kaerlings in Aura Vere, had warned Lored that Otta’s power was greater than anything she had ever known. The taku-kevir felt a shiver tiptoe down his spine as he stared at the sleeping woman. Not only did Otta look like a kaerling, (though she and Erl insisted she was not one of the evil race), her ability surpassed even the Zoratti who had always been the most powerful of the iendu tribes. Who were her parents? Both she and Erl refused to speak of their ancestry. Lored could understand that. After all, he was prohibited to speak of his own parentage, both for his parents’ safety and for the safety of himself and Tari. The Zoratti also claimed Otta was the Fire Daughter. How could the god use someone who looked and acted like a kaerling to protect the Weird Stones?

He sighed and shook himself out of his reverie.

It’s dawn! He called and the others stirred, groaning as they woke. The shores of Jargoiden are at hand!

Chapter Two

Tari strode around the small island, feeling black pebbles and coarse dark grains crunch beneath her soft suede boots. As she walked, she checked the beach for anything the companions had left behind. Pausing before the jet black flat rock that rose out of the sand on the eastern shore, the treu-priestess wondered if it really was necessary to climb to the top.

Glancing behind at the skiff moored nearby, she watched Erl and Nilo stowing the companions’ belongings on board. Her father’s friend Lored, and Erl’s sister, Otta, were hiding all signs of their presence on the island. Reluctantly, Tari lifted her ochre skirts and climbed to the top of the rock.

All around the small island, a grey ocean sighed and a warm wind tugged her clothes and hair. She tightened the knot in the headscarf she’d taken to wearing recently, feeling her unruly curls fly around her neck. To the west a dark mass of land stretched across the horizon. Tari stood in the middle of the large, dark rock and turned in a slow circle. There was nothing to be seen on the dull, flat surface except for a rough altar of stones at the north end. Tari swallowed hard as she caught sight of charred bones.

Nilo had told them the previous night that this small isle was a place where the kaerlings sacrificed slaves at the beginning and end of their voyages. The companions had had no choice but to overnight on the dismal island as the wind died the previous afternoon. She felt sick in her belly and prayed automatically to her goddess, Aqua, that the bones did not belong to Lally.

Tari was following the kaerlings in order to rescue Lally, who had been an acolyte of Aqua before her abduction. The priestess, Undine, had been unable to leave the shores of Falna, and had told Tari that the twins and Lored would help her find the acolyte once more. Lored, her father’s friend, was a taku-kevir, and Tari knew the man would protect her and help her rescue Lally. Erl was loyal and faithful and Tari’s heart leapt every time she looked at him.

He and Otta were pursuing the kaerlings in order to rescue a kaerling boy they’d looked after the previous winter. The boy’s family had since re-acquired him and, as the twins had promised to look after Derri, they both felt strongly that they should keep their word. Quite why Otta hated the kaerlings when she looked so much like one, Tari hadn’t worked out. She didn’t like the woman at all. And it didn’t help that Tari had once tried to kill Otta.

Erl waved a long arm and beckoned to her. Tari hurriedly scrambled down the rough hewn steps to the beach and did not look back; she hadn’t enjoyed the night on the island.

Removing her boots and wading into the lukewarm water, she allowed Erl to help her aboard The Seeker. Nilo nodded to her as she took her place in the stern opposite the half-Kimder. Erl took the tiller as the heavy-browed part-man set the midnight blue sails.

Due west, Nilo told Erl. The wind should be strong enough to take us to the harbour entrance. After that, I’ll row.

Lored and Otta sat silently in the bows not looking at each other. Tari had seen them earlier, each taking a Tabacum tablet from Lored’s remedy box. Without the remedy, both of them