Tales Of Nevaeh: The Trilogy and Backstory of the Epic Sci-Fi Fantasy Series Tales Of Nevaeh: (The 4 Book Bundled Box Set)

by David Wind

  Without a word, both women undressed and went to the pond. Not for the first time did Areenna think how perfect Enaid was. Enaid’s body was lean and well muscled, her nutty mocha shaded skin taut, her breasts high and her stomach flat. The scars on her back and legs, the faded remnants of battles fought two decades earlier, detracted not from her. She walked with the grace of a warrior and the presence of a queen. Her face, framed by long raven hair, glowed in the sunlight and appeared more like a young woman’s than a woman of forty-six.

  Enaid stopped walking. “What is it?”

  A flush warmed Areenna’s face. “I was thinking how beautiful you are, how young you always appear.”

  Enaid smiled. “The women in our family have been gifted with long lives and a youthful appearance. Nevertheless, Areenna, I feel every year that I have lived. Here,” she said, pointing to her heart. “And, here too,” she added, tapping her temple. Then she turned toward the pool and dove in.

  Areenna laughed and followed. Slicing the water like a knife, she swam under the surface until she had to come up for air. “I will miss this place.”

  “You will be back,” Enaid replied. Her face turned serious. “Your father is worried for you.”

  Paddling close to Enaid, Areenna said, “I know. I wish there was a way to ease his worry.”

  Enaid reached out and stroked Areenna’s cheek with the back of her hand. “I know child, but it is a parent’s… duty to be concerned for their child. And while your father is a King, he is also a father.”

  He has lost so much already—

  —then it is up to you to see he loses no more, Enaid stated. She added aloud, “You leave in two days, going into such dangers I cannot imagine. It is up to you to make certain you return. And, it is up to you to make certain as well, my son returns.”

  “To me? Why is such my responsibility?” she asked, already knowing the truth of Enaid’s words but refuting them even as they were voiced.

  “Deny not what you know to be true. I have known since your birth. Your mother knew, and others as well.”

  A sudden memory rose. It was of she and Mikaal in Northcrom, sitting with Queen Ilsraeth, who had said, ‘Because of what you and Areenna, represent… the legends. Your presence here makes them real’. “Ilsraeth had spoken of a legend, but never explained it to me,” Areenna said.

  “Come, let us dry on the grass and talk.”

  Enaid spun in the water and swam to the edge of the pond, Areenna following behind. When they were lying on the mossy grass the sun drying their bodies, Enaid said, “When the time comes for… mothers of daughters to hand down lore, the daughters are told of many things, but of one there is absolute certainty. Your mother could not tell you because her life was cut far too short and you were too young.”

  She paused to offer Areenna a wistful smile. “This responsibility now falls to me. Usually this lore is passed down near the end of a woman’s life, but for you, it is essential to know. Your mother was the daughter of the Duke of Lokinhold; your mother’s mother was the daughter of the King and Queen of Fainhall. Of this you know.”

  Areenna nodded. “And her mother was the daughter of Northcrom, but further back I do not know.”

  “I do. Areenna, what you know not is that your female lineage is descended from all dominions. Within your body flows the blood of every dominion of Nevaeh.”

  “As do many others,” Areenna said.

  “No, child. While logical, such is not reality. Because a woman child is born to a ruler of a domain does not mean such a child will become queen. It means only that her parents rule. Bloodlines break because of love, not obligation. Love controls us as much as does any other power. The right to choose whom you love is a woman’s right; the right to choose your life’s path is your right as well… But you, child, unlike all other women, have been chosen.”

  Areenna shook her head in an effort to decipher the meaning of Enaid’s words but could not find any. “I still do not understand.”

  Enaid sat up and said, “One of our pieces of lore concerns a legend. This legend, passed down for so long, no one remembers its origins. The legend speaks of the birth of a woman of power who will be born with all the blood of Nevaeh and who will unite Nevaeh and lead to the defeat of the Dark Ones from across the sea. It is said, when the dark ones begin their final conquest of Nevaeh, this woman will have the power to stop them.”

  “How can one woman do so?” Areenna asked, her heart barely beating as the words sank deep within her mind.

  “The legend speaks of how, when this woman-child meets her complement, she will become the most powerful woman ever born to Nevaeh. She, with her complement, will defeat the Dark Ones.”

  “Mikaal—“

  “—you are she. He is your complement. But there is more. The legend speaks of your complement as part of you. If something should happen to him, you will fail.”

  “Bekar,” Areenna whispered. “When we met Bekar on the old highway, she said I had no choice! If I failed, everyone and everything I love will be destroyed, forever.” Areenna’s eyes went wide as she gasped. “My mother told me stories about Bekar of the Woods. She knew I would meet her one day.”

  “Yes, she was blessed with vision. Areenna, what I speak of is the oldest legend we have, older even than the legend of Bekar. The frightening truth is that you were born for a purpose. Your powers you have been given are stronger than any woman of Nevaeh has ever possessed. They continue to grow stronger every day, do they not?”

  There could be no denial of Enaid’s words and Areenna nodded her head.

  “And the women of the Island… you sense them even when you are away from of the Island, do you not?”

  “Yes,” she admitted, thinking of last night and the words she had heard. “But what you speak of… how can I do such an unbelievable thing as defeat the dark ones?”

  Enaid smiled and took Areenna’s hand in hers. “Because you must. If you do not find your strength, if you believe yourself not capable, my son’s life is lost as well.”

  Enaid’s words drilled deep within the very core of her powers. She put her hands on Enaid’s shoulders and locked her eyes with the queen’s. “I will never let that happen,” she whispered.

  <><><>

  Hundreds of miles away, a squall streamed over the Southern Palisades. Dark clouds let forth sheets of rain while churning winds ripped across the rocks, howling through the crevices. Yet at the very edge of a palisade cliff, the deformed shape of the Black Sorceress stood untouched by the storm.

  On her shoulder rested a black-feathered carrion eater. The dangelore listened to the words she whispered into its ears. A few minutes later, the bird flew into the storm. It too was unaffected by the eddying winds as it headed northwest toward Tolemac.

  “Find them,” she called after the winged messenger in farewell. Then she laughed as a vision of Areenna, Mikaal, Roth and Enaid rose before her eyes. Think you I am defeated? Think you I know not what you attempt? You will die by my hand, of this I promise! Then she turned seaward looking for the sign she had been waiting for.

  As the whirlwind surrounded her, she raised her arms toward the sea. “Come soon, Master, all is in readiness.”

  CHAPTER 6

  The pale and waxing crescent moon floated above Areenna’s shoulder as she walked with her father in the central garden of Tolemac. Illuminating nightmoss cast a soft whisper of light along the walkway. Nosaj’s silver hair shimmered in the low light, which served to emphasize the drawn lines of his face.

  “Solomon and I think you should take one of his Six groups with you.”

  “I understand your concern, but they would be more hindrance than help, Father. Mikaal and I… we do not need bodyguards. Others cannot see what we do, not yet. Both you and the High King know the truth of this.”

  Nosaj stopped walking and Areenna turned to him. The worry in his eyes cloaked her as if it were her own and she reached into herself to draw on her abilities. She took his hands
into hers, enjoying the strong touch and the feel of calloused skin. Although he was the king of his dominion, Nosaj had never missed a chance to work beside his people.

  “Father, I need you to trust in me, to believe in me. I cannot do what is required without your support. I cannot take away your worry, but I promise you I will do whatever is necessary to come back to you, and with Mikaal.” Then she pushed a small bit of her own energy to her father, letting it settle through him until she sensed his tension ease.

  He bobbed his head in reluctant consent and drew her close. He wrapped his arms around her and smiled down at her. “I trust you, Areenna, I trust you to know your strengths, your weaknesses and your abilities, but my concern is not for the woman of power you have become; it is for the child I watched grow to womanhood, and the woman I hold now in my arms.” He paused for a moment but did not release her. “And your mother, wherever she is in the life after life, trusts you as well.”

  Releasing her, he took back her hand and said, “Let us walk more, for we have been apart for too long and another separation is coming.”

  <><><>

  When the midday meal ended, Roth, Enaid, and Mikaal left to oversee the final gathering of supplies, leaving Areenna and Nosaj at the table. After a few moments of silence, Nosaj said, “Mikaal tells me you have become well adept with the sword.”

  “I have learned a great deal from him as I have from you,” she replied.

  Nosaj nodded, his eyes fixed on hers. Just as he was about to speak, Areenna smiled and said, “Would you like to work with me? It’s been a long time since we last sparred.”

  “It would be my pleasure,” he replied.

  “So sure are you?”

  He held her challenging gaze. “Yes.”

  “Then come, My King, let us play. I have to get my sword. I will meet you at the training grounds.”

  Ten minutes later, dressed in her leathers, she met her father at the wooden fence surrounding the training grounds. The sword pit was empty, but twenty feet away, two Six groups were training. They fought barehanded, using movements Areenna had never seen before coming to Tolemac. They did not fight using fists; rather, they used their entire bodies, kicking in smooth arcs, hitting open handed with their fingers straight and stiff, chopping at their opponents instead of punching. They wrestled and fought, the sounds of flesh meeting flesh was loud.

  “Mikaal calls this hand-to-hand fighting," she told her father.

  “I have seen it before, when we fought the dark ones. Roth is a master of this fighting.”

  They watched for a few more minutes until Nosaj turned to Areenna. “Shall we?” he asked, a single eyebrow rising with the question.

  “We shall,” Areenna replied and led him into the sword pit. The brown earth was dotted with boot prints, the evidence of much training. She went to the center, where she turned, drew her shortsword and cocked her head at her father. “At your command, My Lord.”

  Nosaj drew his sword, nodded to his daughter and shifted his stance. “Now,” he said in a low voice, his eyes locked on Areenna.

  Each held their sword in a two-handed grip and began circling to the left. The grunts, slaps, and noise coming from the adjacent training area faded from Areenna’s ears as she concentrated solely on her father’ eyes, waiting for a tell-tale sign of attack.

  It came perhaps thirty seconds later. A slight narrowing of his eyes told her he would attack. When he did, she parried, slid from beneath the attack and spun, her sword held defensively ready.

  Nosaj came again, this time swinging from the opposite direction. She caught the blade on the flat of her own; the force of the blow sent a numbing shockwave along her arm. She back-pedaled quickly, and circled to the right to give her arm time to recover.

  When the feeling returned to her arm and hand, she twisted beneath another sudden attack and spun again, her sword slicing toward her father’s head. Nosaj caught the blade at the last instant and flicked his wrist to separate them. Then he charged.

  She caught the first blow easily and separated. He came again, this time with an arcing attack. She stopped his blade before he could finish the swing, slipped beneath it and pushed him back.

  Spinning, he reversed and attacked again, faster than she expected. In the midst of his attack, she saw his eyes flick to the right and she backed quickly away. He came at her an instant later in a full out charge.

  Instead of back-pedaling, as she knew he expected, she pushed forward, her blade moving in the figure eight Mikaal had taught her, her arms and wrists weaving so fast the blade blurred as she counter attacked and threw him off balance.

  Nosaj was barely able to keep up with her, but a few seconds later, he fell into her pattern of weaves and feints. Once settled in the defense of her attack, he changed pace and began to push her back, his sword hammering steadily in short swift strokes.

  They were so locked in their battle, they didn’t notice the two groups training nearby had stopped to watch them. All they saw was each other. Father and daughter maneuvered in tight battle, their blades gleaming, the sound of metal upon metal echoing loud and crisp in the cool afternoon until, finally, Areenna spotted an opening in Nosaj’s defensive pattern. She dipped beneath one swing, stepped closer and an instant later, touched the tip of her sword to the side of his neck.

  Nosaj lowered his sword and stepped back. He gave Areenna a slow bow of his head. “Well done, Daughter.”

  Areenna smiled and sheathed her short sword. “Thank you, Father.”

  Behind them, the twelve men returned to their training, but only after raising their swords against their palms in a salute of silent applause to the swordplay they had witnessed.

  <><><>

  Mikaal and Roth inspected the kralets Roth had chosen as the pack animals for the journey. The three were young, barely four years old, strong, well-muscled and healthy. Combined, the pack animals would carry enough supplies to keep them fed for a long while.

  “You will need to hunt until you reach the Frozen Mountains. There will be little game there, and what you find will more likely hunt you than you will them. Do you remember the stories I used to tell you of the animals from my time?”

  Mikaal chuckled. “I remember the nightmares I had about them—one in particular. Giant animals weighing five times more than a man, with huge paws and long claws and covered with brown and black and even white thick fur. I think you called them bears.”

  Roth nodded. “Yes, the brown ones are grizzly bears, the white, polar bears. They are mean tempered killers. I can only imagine what they have become with the changes from the radiation.”

  “You also said you had not seen even one since returning to Nevaeh.”

  “True, but you can never be certain. There are other animals as well, dangerous ones near the frozen regions. These are not game for you; rather, you would be game for them.”

  “And we will be watchful, Father.”

  “You will have to conserve,” Roth advised.

  “We will be careful with the supplies,” Mikaal promised. “My concern is more of the cold than the animals.”

  “As it should be. There is a trick I learned when I was younger: always wear several layers of clothing; it helps retain your body heat. Do not wear armor unless necessary in the Frozen Mountains. The metal retains cold and will hamper your movements.”

  “Understood,” Mikaal replied, concerned more by his father’s unvoiced worries than the preparation for the trip. “What really bothers you?” he asked.

  Roth took in every line of his son’s face, each shaded plane before saying, “Everything about what you face worries me. You go to a place where no one we know has traveled. Even I know little of the area. Yet what I do know is, somehow life goes on. Whatever species of animals were there before the world changed may still be there, but changed by the radiation, mutated too, as was all life on Nevaeh. Besides the bears, there may be the descendants of what we called wolves,” he added. “They are like… gorlons—larger
and more predatory. They thrive in the cold, run in packs and are vicious. But I know not for sure their breed survived. So much has changed. So much mutation… You must be watchful of everything.”

  “The Eight would not send us if we could not do what is necessary.”

  Roth’s smile echoed with the cynicism of his next words. “The Eight, as you call the witc… sorceresses of the Island, are not omniscient. I trust them not.”

  Mikaal grasped his father’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “But I do. I have been in their mind, and they have been in mine. They survive for a single reason: to defeat the dark ones.”

  “You are certain?”

  “Absolutely,” Mikaal responded, “But, Father, I doubt not they would sacrifice us should it become necessary to defeat the Dark Masters. In such I believe—absolutely.”

  “Good. Being prepared for any outcome is always the way to survival.” Turning, Roth signaled to the men standing by the supplies. “Dunnel, have the kralets ready by sunrise.”

  The man called Dunnel, taller than the others by half a foot and slim, with a frizzy halo of black hair surrounding his head, nodded. “They will be ready at sunrise, My Lord.”

  “And now?” Mikaal asked.

  Roth turned to a groom and called him over. The boy came running. “My Lord?”

  “Find Queen Enaid, King Nosaj and Princess Areenna and tell them to meet us at the shop of Halan.”

  The boy sped off on his errand and Roth turned to Mikaal. “I have asked Halan to make a few items for you and Areenna.”

  Halan’s, which was more a small foundry than a shop, was on the opposite side of the keep; as they walked through the center of Tolemac, they replied to the greetings of the people on the streets. Roth, by virtue of where he came from, and Mikaal, by his father’s example, never sought the formality of royalty and expected nothing more than a casual nod or wave from the men and women who had chosen to live in Tolemac under the High King’s rule.

  By the time they reached Halan’s, Enaid had arrived and moments later, Nosaj and Areenna appeared from around a corner. Together, the five entered the shop. The Weapons Master and his wife gave them a simple head bow before Halan said, “Welcome My Lord.”