Eden Forest (Part one of the Saskia Trilogy)

by Aoife Marie Sheridan

  Eden Forest

  (Part one of the Saskia Trilogy)

  Aoife Marie Sheridan

  Eden Forest (Part one of the Saskia Trilogy)

  Copyright © 2015 by Aoife Marie Sheridan

  All rights reserved.

  This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical,

  photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without prior written permission of the copyright owner and/or the publisher of this book, except as provided by United States of America copyright law.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  ISBN-978-1515368892

  Published by Aoife Marie Sheridan

  Also available in eBook and paperback publication

  BY AOIFE MARIE SHERIDAN

  OTHER WORKS BY AUTHOR AOIFE MARIE SHERIDAN:

  THE SASKIA TRILOGY

  EDEN FOREST #1

  CITY OF SECRETS #2

  THE RISE OF THE QUEEN #3

  DEMON SERIES

  HUNTERS (PART ONE)

  HUNTED (PART TWO) (COMING SOON)

  Dedication

  This Book is dedicated to Emmet Proudfoot.

  EDEN FOREST

  Prologue

  I pull down my brown tunic to try and cover my ever-

  growing stomach. Sweat trickles down the back of my

  neck as the sun burns high in the sky, yet I have a sense

  of peace as I dig my hands into the cool soil that surrounds

  the flower beds. I close my eyes and inhale the beautiful

  scent of thousands of roses with lavender lady flowers and

  violets as their companions.

  “Suis, could you fetch me a beaker of water?”

  Suis jumps up off her knees.

  “Of course, ma’am.” She runs off along the path that winds

  through the rose beds.

  I kneel back on my haunches while waiting for Suis to

  return. My mind wanders to the festival only two days away. I

  am excited, yet terrified. The festival is held every ten years for

  women of the age of twenty-five. The king and queen match us

  personally for our future husband or wife. I rub my belly gently;

  I have all I need for now.

  “Here you are, ma’am.” Suis hands me the water.

  “Do you have a stomach ache? Because if you do, my mum

  always says rosemary leaves settle it.”

  A tingle of fear runs through me. I have to be more careful.

  If Suis saw me rub my stomach, then who else might have?

  I square my shoulders and take a deep gulp of water. “I will

  remember that. I actually grow some in my garden, but thank

  you for the advice, Suis.”

  Suis pushes the clay off her small hands, already forgetting

  about my stomach. She is only sixteen and my first apprentice so

  I am not entirely sure if my teaching is in any way good. The bell

  rings once, signalling it’s time for lunch. We wash our hands by

  the fountain before making our way to a large barn where food

  is served for the gardeners. There are about twenty of us that

  are spread out amongst the four sections of the gardens. Each

  section holds different flowers and plants. The section that I

  work in is S1. This is the smallest of all the sections; only Suis

  and I work here.

  When we arrive at the barn, there is a large queue formed

  already, and I have to wait in line in the sweltering heat. It never

  bothered me before, but with swollen ankles and a sore back, it

  is getting harder.

  “Next,” the server calls in a rough voice and slops soup

  into a wooden bowl, while another and equally rough server

  hands the man at the top of the queue a bread roll. I can’t blame

  them for their lack of enthusiasm. Once we are finished eating,

  they have to serve all the workers from the vegetable and fruit

  gardens, and they exceed our numbers threefold.

  I take my soup and roll while thanking both men, but not

  receiving a reply. I sit myself at one of the long wooden tables

  that have been worn down from years of use. The cracks that

  run along the wood are wider, allowing me to see my toes

  peeking out of my sandals. Suis sits down beside me, glancing

  around the barn, looking terrified.

  “Why are the guardians outside, ma’am?” she asks with her

  eyes wide and innocent.

  “First of all, Suis, please call me Marta, and the guardians

  are always stationed here to make sure the work is done. If the

  work is done, then there will be no trouble.”

  Suis looks into her soup. “And if the work is not done?” Her

  voice quivers a little. I can see by her face that someone has told

  her some nasty rumours; the children seem to think it fun to

  scare one another, but it’s hard to make someone feel safe when

  they are so afraid.

  I pat her gently on the back. “The work is always done.

  Don’t fret, child.” Then I give her a square look. “And don’t be

  listening to silly stories. Unless an adult tells you, always assume

  it is untrue.” She relaxes her posture, relieved that everything

  will be all right, and she digs into her soup.

  Nicon sits down across from me. “Marta.” He looks at Suis

  and acknowledges her with a nod. Then he raises his eyebrow

  in a question. Is it okay to talk in front of her? I give him a nod.

  “Any word on the supplies?” Nicon asks in a whisper so none

  of the guardians can hear.

  He is referring to wine I am getting him. It is a rarity here

  in Saskia, as the queen has banned all alcohol from our village,

  saying it’s for our own good, but not everyone agrees. It is only

  allowed at times of celebration.

  Dominic, my best friend’s husband, knows people who know

  people. “Not yet, but soon,” I whisper. He inclines his head and

  starts eating.

  He is a rather large man and with his build would be more

  suitable as a woodcutter, but he signed up to be a gardener. He

  towers over all of us, but would never hurt anything. He is a

  gentle giant.

  I eat my soup quickly. “See you, Nicon.”

  He sets his wooden spoon aside and drains his bowl by using

  it like a mug. He wipes his face with the back of his hand. “That

  was tasty. See you later,” he says with a smile. I laugh, as he has

  bits of bread stuck in his beard.

  Once back in the garden with Suis, I give her instructions

  to remove all the dead leaves. Then I return to my own work.

  After a few hours, I watch Suis from the corner of my eye. She

  is struggling, catching her hand on every thorn while trying to

  remove any dead leaves.

  “Ouch.” She places another bleeding finger in her mouth. Her

  small face is scrunched up, making her features look smal
ler.

  “Suis, go wash your hands by the fountain and take a break.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.” She speaks with her finger in her mouth,

  making me laugh.

  “Call me Marta.” She smiles, nods, and leaves to wash

  her hands. I return to my work, turning more soil. A shadow

  appears over me, a guardian. There is always one stationed at

  each garden, making sure the work is done. He is young so I

  know he will be harsher than other guardians.

  He looks at me with a scowl. “S1, where is your apprentice?”

  We are called by our sections. It is easier than names.

  I rise and incline my head with respect. “She has gone to the

  fountain to tend her wounds, sir. She will be back shortly.”

  The guardian leaves without a second glance, his face stoic,

  and makes his way to the fountain to make sure I have told the

  truth. Suis arrives back shortly after the guardian is gone and

  looks at the rose bed as if in a challenge.

  I say nothing of the guardian, as I do not want to upset her.

  It will only give her cause to worry. “Do you have an affinity,

  Suis?”

  She looks at me, confused.

  “Of course, everyone does.”

  “What is your affinity?”

  “ Air, ma’am… I mean Marta.” She gives me a shy smile.

  “Then use it.” She frowns. I walk behind her and place my

  hands on her shoulders. “Close your eyes.” She closes them

  really tight. “Relax, Suis. I want you to reach out with your

  mind to the roses. Can you feel them?”

  She nods. “Yes, yes, I can.”

  “Now feel along them until you come to a blank area. Can

  you see it?” She nods. “Okay, that’s the dead leaves. Now send

  wind to knock them off.” The rose bushes begin to rustle.

  “Gently. You only want to get rid of the dead leaves.” One by

  one, the leaves flutter to the ground.

  Suis opens her eyes. A smile spreads across her face when

  she sees all the dead leaves on the ground. When she smiles,

  she looks prettier. “No more thorns to poke at me,” she says

  gleefully.

  The bell sounds. It rings all over the village, signalling the

  end of the day. We put away our tools before leaving and head

  back toward the village. The streets are full of villagers buying

  and selling goods. I have to squeeze through the crowded square

  to get to the other side where I live.

  The village is encircled with large, round towers that house

  all guardians. From the square they look really small, yet their

  presence is felt always. They were built with black stone and

  a red slate that covers the circular roofs. The colours were a

  reminder that danger would never pass the guardian towers.

  Once, they had given comfort to the people of Saskia that we

  were looked over and protected, but now they are a reminder of

  our darker days.

  My small white cottage comes into view with its bright

  yellow straw roof. The village is scattered with small cottages

  for workers with no families. They are just sleeping quarters

  with a cooking and resting area. It is all I need. When I get

  to my bedroom, I gather the fresh garments and soap I have

  wrapped up on my bed and make my way to the spring to clean

  the sweat and soil from my body. The main springs are located

  beside the castle, but are always full with workers at this time of

  the day. I found a small spring not far from my home that was

  rarely used, and I love the peace and quiet.

  On the way, I have to pass the memorial garden, just at the

  end of the village. I don’t help maintain it, as it’s too painful.

  My parents are buried there, along with other villagers. King

  Morrick came up with the idea that we should build the garden

  in memory of all the villagers who were wrongly accused of

  being traitors from the time Saskia was at war with the previous

  king, King Paulus.

  I still feel angry, even though it has been over twenty years

  since the war. I was only five at the time and my parents

  were decapitated in front of me for sheltering wounded

  rebel guardians. They rebelled against King Paulus for his

  evil ways, as he had brought darkness and suffering to the

  Saskian people for almost fifty years. I shiver at the memory.

  But rumours were circulating lately that he still lives.

  Nobody ever found his body after the clean-up started, but

  we all hoped he was so badly burned there was just nothing

  that remained. The rumours are starting to frighten people

  who fought and lived through the dark times. My parents

  faces come back to me, both of them on their knees as I was

  made to watch. I wipe the fresh tears from my eyes. I am still

  amazed by how much it hurts after so long.

  When I reach the spring, my stomach growls. I pat it gently.

  “Wash first, then food.” I strip off my work clothes- a long

  brown tunic that has short sleeves just to the elbow and slits up

  the sides of my legs to allow flexibility while gardening. Brown

  is worn by all workers outside the castle, and blue is worn inside

  the castle.

  I lace my tunic with soap and scrub viciously, making sure

  to get all the soil off it. When I finish, I hang it on a nearby

  branch of a tree. After I remove my sandals and undergarments,

  I let my hair down, removing all the pins. It falls just at my

  shoulders, a cascade of black curls.

  There is a dip at the side of the spring that I use to lower

  myself into the water. It is warm from the sun’s rays. The

  water splashes against my body, loosening every muscle. After

  lathering my hair with soap, I dip my head back and rinse.

  I stay a while longer than usual, daydreaming about what

  my baby will look like. I have only two months left, yet my

  bump is tiny. I thank God for small mercies. You can’t take

  a lover before you are matched. It is against our rules. My

  stomach flutters with excitement and fear at seeing Morrick at

  the festival. I know we can’t speak to each other, but just to see

  him will be enough.

  I dry off and get dressed, returning to the village, greeting

  people as I make my way through the winding cobbled streets.

  “Marta.” I turn around to see Corrona. “Come to mine. I

  made us supper.”

  I link my arm with hers. “This is why you’re my best friend.

  You always know when I’m hungry.”

  We laugh and talk about the festival over supper. Corrona’s

  cottage is just like mine, except her resting area is covered in

  materials, beads, and pins, as she is gifted at dressmaking.

  She is making my dress for the festival, but it had to be altered

  several times for my growing body.

  “So how do you feel?” Her eyes fall to my stomach. She is

  the only other person I could tell, besides Morrick, about being

  pregnant, but she doesn’t know who the father is. It is for her

  own safety. I know what I am doing is reckless and stupid, but

  I love him.

  She gives me one of her lopsided smiles. “Daydreaming

  again?”r />
  I blush slightly. “No,” I say while smiling. “How are you,

  more to the point?”

  Corrona will be due any day. She is practically glowing and

  her smile couldn’t get any wider. “I can’t believe it, me and

  Dominic having our own baby. I have waited so long for this.”

  Her face becomes sombre. “But I’m afraid.”

  I sit beside her and wrap my arm around her shoulder. “It is

  going to be all right, Corrona.”

  I lay my head on her shoulder for my own comfort as well as

  hers. All baby boys are checked when they’re born to see if they

  have an affinity for air, and if they do, the child is taken from

  its mother and reared in the castle to be a guardian. It’s every

  woman’s worst fear, but it only happens to about one in thirty.

  So I pray to God that Corrona and I will be one of the lucky

  ones, that either we have a girl or a son with a different affinity.

  The next morning at work, Suis is all excited. “Morning,

  Marta.”

  I smile at her childlike expression. She reminds me of a

  mouse, a cute one. She is only sixteen so she still has time to

  bloom. “Morning, Suis.”

  She dances from one foot to another. “Do I get to use my

  affinity again?”

  “For the next few days, yes. As you can see, the dead leaves

  are almost endless, but they will end all the same. Then you

  must use your hands.”

  Her smile falters only slightly. “Okay, at least I can use it for

  a few more days.” She stands there smiling.

  “You can start now.”

  “Oh, yes, sorry. Yes.” And off she goes, full of enthusiasm.

  The day goes by quickly and without problems. After work, I

  wash and dress quickly, as I am meeting Corrona tonight. There

  is a gathering in the main barn for all the ladies of the village

  to celebrate the matching festival that will be held tomorrow

  night.

  The barn is lit by hundreds of candles, giving it a magical

  and romantic feel. I squeeze Corrona’s hand with excitement.

  The barn has been lined with wooden benches with an aisle

  down the middle. Corrona and I squeeze into the second row.