Eden Forest (Part one of the Saskia Trilogy)

by Aoife Marie Sheridan

  Ndee and I pass by. I don’t mind all the smiling faces. It eases

  my heavy heart a bit.

  Everyone greets me with “princess” and bows as I pass

  through. It’s overwhelming. I feel like royalty. Then my

  conscience slips in. You’re no princess. But I banish the thoughts

  and try and enjoy this night.

  My breath catches when I see Alana. “Wow,” I say.

  She blushes. “Really?”

  I grab her hand. “Really.” They have pinned all her hair

  including her fringe up off her face, letting everyone see it.

  “You are just like a princess now,” Alana says in a warm

  voice.

  Ndee ushers us on through the crowd as children weave in

  and out with excitement. Laughter fills the air and then I can’t

  hear anything as my eyes fall upon Tristan, who is looking at

  me from across the fire. His brown hair is loose, falling to his

  shoulders. He wears no top, just plain black trousers. His bare

  chest is muscular and the sight of it sends emotions through me

  that I wasn’t aware I felt for him. A look of shock passes over

  his face and then it’s gone. Does my face portray my feelings?

  He looks away and then the noise comes rushing back, along

  with Alana’s voice.

  “Sarajane, are you all right?”

  I look at her, feeling embarrassed. “Yeah, sorry.”

  “You looked far away.” She tries to hide a growing grin.

  I give her a dirty look and close in on the bonfire where food

  is being handed out. I fill a plate of meat mixed with herbs and

  salad and sit down beside the bonfire.

  Alana joins me and nudges my shoulder. “I shouldn’t tease”

  I nudge her back. “No, I was caught red-handed.”

  Her face becomes serious. “You really like him.” It feels

  weird talking like this with Alana, but it feels really good at the

  same time.

  “Yes and no. I like him, but I spend most of the time hating

  him.” I shake my head. “Oh, I don’t know. But what about you

  and Kiar?” I give Alana a grin.

  Her face brightens at his name and then she looks sad. “I

  can’t do anything about it. It is not my choice.”

  “Whose choice is it? Kiar's?”

  She laughs bitterly. “That would be simple, but no, the king

  and queen choose who we will be matched with.”

  This sounds so stupid. “How would they know who you

  love?”

  Alana gives me a don’t be silly look. “They choose who they

  think would work well together and some people find love in

  it.”

  My heart breaks for Alana and Kiar. This sounds barbaric.

  “So the king and queen match everyone in Saskia, including

  here?”

  “No. Saskia is broken up into four sections and the king

  and queen control two. Aquaterra and Hummus are ruled by

  different people with different rules.”

  My heart lifts slightly. “Then move to one of them with

  Kiar.”

  Alana shakes her head. “Oh, Sarajane, it is not that simple.

  You have to swear allegiance to your new ruler. We would never

  see Saskia again. We can’t cross each other’s lands. Too many

  wars started by one settlement crossing into the other. And

  anyway, even if I agreed, Kiar is loyal to Saskia and the king.”

  Alana becomes silent, running her finger around her plate. Her

  words about Kiar make me think Alana isn’t from Saskia.

  “Are you loyal to Saskia?”

  Fear runs across her face and she looks over her shoulder and

  then back to me. “Of course I am.”

  But I can see she isn’t. I leave it alone. Neve and Kiar make

  their way over to us and I smile at them both. “Fun party?” I

  say to Neve.

  “I lit the bonfire.”

  Kiar sits down beside Alana. “Neve, the whole place would

  be on fire if they let you near it,” Kiar jokes.

  Before they can start bantering, I jump up and grab Neve’s

  hand, surprising him. “Dance with me?” Before he can answer,

  I drag him off, leaving Kiar and Alana behind.

  “I never noticed how much you wanted me before,” Neve

  says playfully.

  “You wish, Neve.”

  He twirls me around repeatedly until I’m almost sick. When

  he stops, I have to lean on him; everything is spinning too fast.

  “Feeling okay, princess?”

  I look up at his moving, grinning face. “Shut up, Neve, and

  just stay still.”

  He laughs loudly. “I’m not moving.”

  Everything starts to settle and I can see Tristan making his

  way towards Neve and me and he doesn’t look happy. “Neve,”

  he barks, causing Neve to let me go and stand straight.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You are on duty. This is not a resting period.”

  “Sorry, sir,” Neve says and walks away.

  “What is your problem? He was only dancing,” I say to

  Tristan, my temper rising.

  He comes up to me, making me take a step back. He doesn’t

  come closer. “They are here for your safety and your father

  would be angry if anything happened to you.”

  “What about you, would you care?” I ask, not quite sure

  where the courage came from. It knocks Tristan off for a

  moment. He takes a step closer and this time I don’t move.

  My legs are like jelly and I figure if I move, they’ll give way

  so I stand on locked legs. “Yes, I would care.” My heart is

  pounding at his words. All I can do is stare at him as he stares

  back at me. His eyes flicker to the left and back to me and his

  face becomes hard again.

  “Your father would demote me if you died.” He gives a

  quick bowing gesture. “Be careful, princess.” And he walks

  away. I stand there fuming and then to make it worse,

  my mother appears beside me. Tristan must have seen her

  approach.

  “Sarajane, I’m sorry. You can’t keep avoiding me.” Her eyes

  are filled with sadness.

  “Mum, you took that man’s side over me.” She goes to defend

  him. “He hit me,” I remind her before she says something that

  will do more damage.

  “That man is your father and your king, Sarajane.”

  I stamp my feet with frustration, knowing this is a pointless

  conversation. “John is my father, and he is not my king.” I storm

  off before she can say anything else. I find Alana where I left

  her, looking into the flames. I plop down beside her. She throws

  me a sideward glance. I shake my head to let her know I don’t

  want to talk about it. So she returns to looking at the flames.

  A group of children are watching us. A few of the older ones

  are egging on a young girl of maybe eight or nine to come over

  to us. She makes her way over, glancing back over her shoulder

  at her encouraging friends. “Hello, princess,” she says shyly

  with her hands behind her back, swaying slightly. I push my

  anger down and look at the little girl; her eyes are huge and

  brown. She is adorable.

  “What’s your name?” I ask.

  “Mei.”

  “Mei, that’s a beautiful name.” I pat a space beside me..
“How

  old are you, Mei?”

  Her little face looks up into mine. “Eight years old now,” she

  says very maturely.

  Alana is listening to us. “Mei, this is Alana, my personal

  guard.”

  Mei’s face squishes up. “A girl can’t fight.”

  Alana raises an eyebrow. “Really, and who told you that?”

  Mei looks at her hands shyly. “My granddad said when I was

  fighting with my cousin that girls don’t fight.”

  I suppress a laugh. “Well, Alana here is a great warrior.” Her

  eyes light up as she looks at Alana.

  “Your granddad has never seen me fight,” Alana says proudly.

  “Maybe you could show me. My cousin always fights with

  me.” Her little face looks angry. I can’t stand to see a child

  bullied.

  “Did you tell your granddad about your cousin?” I ask gently,

  seeing as Mei is really upset and at eight years of age, this is a

  big deal.

  “No, he is always busy.”

  “What about your mum or dad or have you any older

  brothers or sisters?”

  Her big eyes look sad. “My parents are dead and my

  brother…” She dwindles off. “I am not allowed to speak about

  him, granddad said.” The poor child.

  I notice Musa moving through the camp with Ndee. They are

  clearly looking for someone. Ndee’s face relaxes when she sees

  Mei. “Mei, your granddad was looking for you.”

  Musa approaches and Mei jumps to her feet. “Mei, I told you

  to stay close,” he says in a stern voice, but love for this child

  radiates from his eyes.

  “Sorry, Granddad, I was just talking to the princess.”

  Musa smiles at me and picks her up in his arms. “Bed time.”

  She grumbles but curls into his arms as he carries her away.

  “Time for your marking,” Ndee says, full of excitement. I

  roll my eyes. Pain isn’t something I look forward to, but I follow

  her to a makeshift tent where a man waits with a tray of ink and

  small look-a-like needles.

  “Where would you like it?” he asks. Only one shoulder is

  bare, so I opt for there. It isn’t as painful as expected and the

  tattoo is just two small, fluffy wings. They look really nice when

  they’re complete. I retire to my hut afterwards, feeling the day’s

  events heavy on me.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Saskia

  (Sarajane)

  The next day, Ndee takes me to the kilns as she promised

  and we are accompanied by Mei. She hops along beside

  us to keep up. The kilns are positioned near the beach,

  embedded into the large cliffs. The heat in the stone structures

  is intense, coming from two large ovens that are about six

  feet tall and six feet wide with large doors on the front. I can

  see pipes running from one side of the kilns and disappearing

  behind them, then reappearing on the opposite side.

  “The water will be hot today?” I say to Ndee while wiping

  sweat off my forehead. She laughs at my red-hot face.

  “Yes, indeed. This is where the pottery is made.” She gestures

  to several wooden pottery wheels that are covered in dried bits

  of clay. “The pottery is shaped here.” Across from the pottery

  wheels, wooden tables are positioned; they are only the width of

  two benches. “And here we use a knife to inscribe our designs.

  The pottery then goes into the oven. When it’s baked, we leave

  it in the cooling area.”

  She gestures for Mei and me to follow her. We leave and go

  through a wooden door that brings us into a smaller room, but

  it’s much cooler. A woman is seated at a desk, painting a mug

  in a vivid red colour. The swirls that have been engraved on the

  side of the mug are painted white.

  “And this is where we paint and glaze the pottery.” Ndee

  seems so proud of what they did and she should be. “Do you

  want to make something yourself?” she asks.

  “Yes, that would be great, wouldn’t it, Mei?”

  The little girl beams up at me at being acknowledged, and

  she has been so quiet throughout Ndee’s talk. “Yes, princess.”

  She’s doing her cute little swaying thing again. I can’t help but

  smile at her.

  Ndee shows skills of a great teacher. Her instructions and

  patience make what I’m doing seem so easy. Once I have a bowl

  shaped, she sets it in the kiln. It isn’t perfect, but I’m delighted

  with it, even though Mei produced a perfect vase.

  “We will come back and check on them later,” Ndee announces while putting Mei’s vase in the oven.

  “But we better get Mei back and feed you, princess.” My stomach grumbles on cue. I tidy myself up in my room, making sure nothing has gotten on the beautiful blue wrap that Ndee left out for me. I return to the main room. There is nowhere for cooking, but a plate filled with food is laid out on the circular table. I sit down. The chair under me has a soft cushion. The plate is colourfully dressed with lettuce, baby tomatoes, and the rest I can’t name, but I

  start on the fish. Ndee brings over a pottery jug and pours me

  out a mug of water. “Thank you, Ndee.”

  She smiles. “You’re welcome, princess.”

  Ola arrives then with another plate of fish and a mug. She

  lays it out across from me. I stop eating. “Is someone joining

  me?” I ask.

  “I am,” Tristan says from the door. He has washed and

  changed into a simple black jumper and trousers. His hair is

  loose around his face. He dismisses Ola and Ndee, who scurry

  off as if they are afraid of him. Tristan pours himself some water

  and sits down as if it’s normal for us to eat dinner together.

  I just sit there, staring at him. “What is this about?”

  He chews the fish slowly and then looks at me. “Does it

  bother you?” He doesn’t smile or grin, just keeps an impassive

  look.

  If I said Hell yes, eating with you bothers me, he would win.

  So I cut up my fish. “Of course not, Tristan.”

  “Good,” he says, self-assured.

  We eat in silence. He didn’t come here to have dinner with

  me—something is up. It’s hard to eat with him so close. I feel

  weird; I don’t know what to say. I’ve never had a normal

  conversation with him. I know then he is looking at me; my

  skin tingles.

  “Your face is healed.”

  My head shoots up and I search his green eyes for something,

  anything, but nothing shows. Morrick’s angry face just before he

  struck me comes to mind. Then Clive’s body. I get up abruptly,

  knocking the chair out behind me, trying to banish the image.

  Guilt tightens in my chest.

  Tristan moves towards me, leaving only inches between us.

  “It is not your fault.” His words sound so good.

  A tear of relief slides down my face and he wipes it away with

  his thumb. I close my eyes at his touch. He keeps his hand on

  my face and I rest into him, breathing in his scent, and he lets

  me take comfort against his chest. His heart pounds under my

  ear. Is he nervous? Maybe he feels the same way I do. I look up

  into his face, placing my hand over his pounding heart. If I just

  reach up on m
y tippy toes, I can kiss him, but he moves closer,

  his lips brushing mine. Butterflies erupt in my stomach.

  “Why are you here?” I whisper against his lips. I keep my

  eyes closed, afraid of the answer. He doesn’t answer straight

  away. Instead, we just breathe, no one wanting to make the next

  move in case it’s wrong.

  “I don’t know,” he responds and then he kisses me gently at

  first.

  I cling to him, wanting more, needing more. He does as my

  body commands and deepens the kiss. I feel out of control. I

  push my body harder against his, running my fingers under

  his top. In one swipe he has it off, revealing a very toned and

  muscular chest. He kisses my neck, pulling my hair aside as I

  run my hands along his broad back.

  “You look beautiful,” he says through kisses. His words

  make my urgency for him go up a notch. I direct his face

  back to my mouth and kiss him with everything I feel for

  him. He returns the kiss with the same amount of emotion.

  His hands fumble as he tries to get my wrap off, but the

  way it’s tied only lets it drop off my shoulder and no lower.

  He kisses my bare shoulder, sending electricity through my

  body, and then I can’t breathe.

  Tristan freezes and looks at me. I try to pull air into my

  lungs, but nothing is happening. Oh God, my knees give way

  from under me, but Tristan grabs me in his arms before I fall.

  “Sarajane.” I can hear the panic in his voice. I grab at my

  chest, horrified. Dots swarm in front of my eyes. A man steps

  out of the shadows. He must have been there all along. Tristan

  let’s me down and reaches out his arms towards the man. I

  can see the man go numb and slump against the wall, a look

  of astonishment on his face. The air fills my lungs almost

  immediately. I take in large gulps. The man’s astonishment

  fades and is replaced with anger.

  Tristan kneels down to me, holding my face. “Are you okay?”

  he asks. I cough and nod.

  The man behind us is now standing and an axe releases from

  his hands, coming directly towards me. Before I can scream,

  Tristan turns and grabs the axe in mid-air and flicks his wrist.

  The man seems to be frozen as panic runs across his face.

  Tristan flings the axe and embeds it right between his eyes.

  Before I can react, Tristan scoops me up in his arms and hugs