Isle of Broken Years
Catalina de Valasco’s parents have her future fully planned. The most important step for a 17th century Spanish noblewoman being, of course, an advantageous marriage.
Unfortunately, a series of setbacks has left Catalina unwed. On a galleon bound for the Americas and her latest husband-to-be, Catalina again finds her marriage plans frustrated. Pirates capture the ship, and she is held for ransom. The danger intensifies as they sail into seas which, one day, will become known as “The Bermuda Triangle”.
Catalina enters a terrifying world that she could never have imagined or planned for. Yet of all the surprises awaiting her, the most unexpected one is love.
Praise for Jane Fletcher
The Walls of Westernfort
“Award-winning author Jane Fletcher explores serious themes in the Celaeno series and creates a world that loosely parallels the one we inhabit. In The Walls of Westernfort, Fletcher weaves a plausible action-packed plot, set on a credible world, and with appealing multi-dimensional characters. The result is a fantasy by one of the best speculative fiction writers in the business.”—Just About Write
“...captivating, well-written stories in the fantasy genre that are built around women’s struggles against themselves, one another, society, and nature.”—WomanSpace Magazine
“The Walls of Westernfort is not only a highly engaging and fast-paced adventure novel, it provides the reader with an interesting framework for examining the same questions of loyalty, faith, family and love.”—Midwest Book Review
“The Walls of Westernfort is…a true delight. Bold, well-developed characters hold your interest from the beginning and keep you turning the pages. The main plot twists and turns until the very end. The subplot involves likeable women who seem destined not to be together.”—MegaScene
“In The Walls of Westernfort, Jane Fletcher spins a captivating story about youthful idealism, honor, and courage. The action is fast paced and the characters are compelling in this gripping sci-fi adventure.” —Sapphic Reader
“Jane Fletcher has a great talent for spinning yarns, especially stories of lesbians with swords. The Walls of Westernfort is a well written and suspenseful tale…Fletcher effectively intertwines the intrigues of the assassination plot with a young woman’s inward exploration…and yes, there is romance…This book is a page-turner; you will have a hard time finding a stopping place.”—Lesbian Connection Magazine
Rangers at Roadsend
“In Rangers at Roadsend Fletcher not only gives us powerful characters, but she surprises us with an unexpected ending to the murder conspiracy plot, pushing the story in one direction only to have that direction reversed more than once. This is one thrill ride the reader will not want to get off.”—Independent Gay Writer
“Rangers at Roadsend, a murder mystery reminiscent of Agatha Christie, has crossed many genres including speculative fiction, fantasy, romance, and adventure. The story is an incredible whodunit that has something for everyone. Jane Fletcher, winner of the Golden Crown Literary Award in 2005 for Walls at Westernfort, has created an intelligent and compelling story where the reader easily gets drawn into the fascinating world of Celaeno, becomes totally absorbed in the well-designed plot, and finds herself completely enamoured with the multi-faceted characters.”—Just About Write
The Temple at Landfall
“The Temple at Landfall is absorbing and engrossing tale-telling of the highest order, and the really exciting thing is that although this novel is complete and ‘finished,’ the door is left open to explore more of this world, which the author has done in subsequent books. I can’t wait to read the next Celaeno Series volumes, and this book is a keeper that I will re-read again and again. I highly recommend it.”—Just About Write
“Jane Fletcher is the consummate storyteller and plot wizard. Getting caught up in the action happens as if by magic and the fantasy elements are long forgotten. The world Fletcher creates, the characters she brings to life, and the rich detail described in eloquent prose, all serve to keep the reader enchanted, satisfied, yet wanting more. A Lammy finalist, The Temple at Landfall is surely a winner in this reader’s book. Don’t miss it.”—Midwest Book Review
Dynasty of Rogues
“Jane Fletcher has another triumph with Dynasty of Rogues, the continuing story in the Celaeno series. This reviewer found the book clever and compelling and difficult to put down once I started reading and easily could be devoured in one sitting. Some of the characters in Dynasty of Rogues have visited us in other Celaeno novels, but this is a non-linear series, so it can be understood without having read the other stories…Dynasty of Rogues has it all. Mystery, intrigue, crime, and romance, with lots of angst thrown in too, make this fascinating novel thoroughly enjoyable and fun.”—Just About Write
“When you pick up a novel by Jane Fletcher, you will always get a riveting plot, strong, interesting characters, and a beautifully written story complete with three-dimensional villains, believable conflicts, and the twin spices of adventure and romance. Ethical and moral dilemmas abound. Fletcher writes real characters, the type that William Faulkner once said ‘stand up and cast a shadow.’The reader can’t help but root for these characters, many of whom are classic underdogs. I give the highest recommendation for Dynasty of Rogues and to the entire Celaeno Series.”—Midwest Book Review
The Exile and the Sorcerer
“Jane Fletcher once again has written an exciting fantasy story for everyone. Though she sets her stories in foreign worlds where the traditional role of women are reversed, her characters (are) all too familiar in their inner lives and thoughts. Unlike the Celaeno series (which I highly recommend) where there are no men, this series incorporates male characters that help round out the story nicely…Fletcher has a way of balancing the fantasy with the human drama in a precise way. She never gets caught up in the minor details of the environment and forgets to tell the story, which happens too often in fantasy fiction…With Fletcher writing such strong work, readers of fantasy will continue to grow.”—Lambda Book Report
“The Exile and the Sorcerer is a mesmerizing read, a tour-de-force packed with adventure, ordeals, complex twists and turns, and the internal introspection of appealing characters. The author writes effortlessly, handling the size and scope of the book with ease. Not since the fantasy works of Elizabeth Moon and Lynn Flewelling have I been so thoroughly engrossed in a tale. This is knockout fiction, tantalizingly told, and beautifully packaged.”—Midwest Book Review
Wolfsbane Winter
“Jane Fletcher is known for her fantasy stories that take place in a world that could almost be real, but not quite. Her books seem like an alternative version of history and contain rich atmospheres of magic, legends, sorcerers and other worldly characters mixed in with ordinary people. The way she writes is so realistic that it is easy to believe that these places and people really exist. Wolfsbane Winter fits that mold perfectly. It draws the reader in and leads her through the story. Very enjoyable.”—Just About Write
The Shewstone
“I was hooked on the plot and the characters are absolutely delightful.”—The Romantic Reader Blog
Isle of Broken Years
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Isle of Broken Years
© 2018 By Jane Fletcher. All Rights Reserved.
ISBN 13:978-1-63555-176-1
This Electronic Book is published by
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trokes Books, Inc.
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First Edition: October 2018
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Credits
Editor: Cindy Cresap
Production Design: Stacia Seaman
Cover Design by Sheri ([email protected])
By the Author
The Celaeno Series
The Temple at Landfall
The Walls of Westernfort
Rangers at Roadsend
Dynasty of Rogues
Shadow of the Knife
The Lyremouth Chronicles
The Exile and the Sorcerer
The Chalice and the Traitor
The Empress and the Acolyte
The High Priest and the Idol
Wolfsbane Winter
The Shewstone
Isle of Broken Years
Chapter One
“Ship ahoy!” The shout drifted down from the crow’s nest.
Catalina de Valasco secured her needle and looked up, shielding her eyes.
The mast was a silhouette against the bright Caribbean sky. The sailor on lookout was obscured by the billowing sails, but Catalina caught sight of his outstretched arm, pointing north. Was it worth going to see? Regardless, her fingers were stiff, and a break from embroidery was due. Catalina folded the material, placed it on the bench, then went to stand at the railing. The other ship was no more than a speck on the horizon.
As ever, Lucia dogged her heels. “Who do you think it is, my lady?” Her voice was an octave higher than normal. Lucia had been living in dread of pirates ever since the Santa Eulalia de Merida left Spain, and Catalina’s willingness to humor her maid had long since run out.
“How would I know?”
“I’m sorry, my lady, I was just—”
“It will be a merchantman, going about its lawful business. Pirates don’t attack ships going to New Spain. They want the gold and silver on the way back.” How many times did Lucia need to be told?
“If you say so, my lady. But supposing—”
“Then your repairs to my wedding gown will be wasted. Which would be a shame, after all your work.” Fortunately, the rats’ taste for silk had been discovered before too much damage occurred.
“Oh yes, my lady. It’s nearly finished. Nobody will ever notice. I’ve taken lace from your second best nightgown and…”
Preparations for the forthcoming marriage could be relied on to divert Lucia’s scatterbrain thoughts. Catalina was less obsessed with the subject. There was nothing worthwhile to add, and nor would there be, until the galleon reached port at Veracruz.
Instead, Catalina did her best to block out Lucia’s chatter while her gaze drifted idly over the scene. It was idyllic, making any talk of danger seem ridiculous. The deck rolled gently beneath her feet. Wisps of high cloud broke the pure blue dome of the heavens. Afternoon sunlight glittered on the waves between dazzling white crests of surf. Catalina leaned over the side, hoping to spot more flying fish. Strands of seaweed swept through the dark glass troughs in the bow wave and were gone in an instant.
When she looked up again, the other ship was close enough for Catalina to pick out its three masts. It was gaining on them apace. To her annoyance, Catalina felt a clenching in the pit of her stomach. She was getting as bad as Lucia. The standard flying above the crow’s nest was still too indistinct to make out. The royal astrologer had recently demonstrated a clever spyglass at court, a tube with a lens at either end that made distant objects appear close. Catalina would have appreciated one now, to dismiss her foolish worries—a shame ships did not carry them.
On the quarterdeck, Captain Giraldo was also studying the unknown ship. Perhaps she should mention the spyglasses to him as an idea for the future. He frowned and rapped his knuckles on the rail, then shouted, “Bear hard to port.”
The sails rippled as the helmsman pulled on the wheel. Briefly, the distance between the two ships widened, but then, unmistakably, the other ship changed tack to follow the Santa Eulalia.
And still it was gaining on them.
Despite the warm sunshine, a prickling of ice washed over Catalina. She could not tear her eyes from the pursuing ship and felt rather than saw all action still around her. Sailors hung motionless in the rigging.
Ironically, after weeks of anxiety, Lucia was last to react. The maid was drawing patterns in sea spray on the handrail while prattling away. “…but if it does, I’ll carry a spare pair, in case you—” until finally the silence caught her attention. She looked up and squealed, “Oh no! Oh no, no, no!”
The sound of her voice snapped the spell. “Man the guns.” Captain Giraldo’s command was echoed by the first mate and others.
A maelstrom of activity surged across the deck. Sailors dropped from the rigging, hand over hand. Others burst from every hatch and doorway. They threw open lockers, passing around swords and muskets. Cannons were hauled into place, gunpowder kegs rolled from storage, breastplates adjusted and tightened.
“Goddamned, whoreson pirates,” a sailor spat a curse that normally would have earned a rebuke, but Catalina ignored the coarse language along with the bleats from Lucia whimpering beside her.
Her hands were clamped around the rail so tightly her knuckles ached. It took an act of willpower to loosen her grip, yet still she stayed where she was, unable to stop watching the ship get ever nearer. It sliced gracefully, majestically, through the waves, and it meant them harm.
The ship was so close Catalina could spot figures standing on the deck. A flag with red, white, and blue bands fluttered atop the highest mast. Everything was moving so slowly, yet with each beat of her heart, the gap between the ships narrowed.
Somebody was talking at Catalina’s shoulder, and had been for a while, although it took a light touch to fully claim her attention. “Please, madam, you and your maid should take shelter. I beg you, go to your cabin, now. Here is not safe for you.” The officer’s words were polite, but his tone and his eyes added, and you will get in our way.
At some point, Lucia had collapsed in a trembling heap. Catalina urged her to her feet and took her hand. Their path was a chaotic dance, sidestepping and bobbing around the scrambling sailors. Before entering the passage under the quarterdeck, Catalina paused for one last sight of the looming ship with its taunting rebel flag. It was now close enough for her to hear the enemy shouts over the hubbub around her. Catalina flinched as the first musket shot rang out. Lucia took the lead and jerked her through the narrow doorway and into the tranquil gloom below deck.
Their cabin was familiar, exactly as they had left it a couple of hours earlier, with her book open on the table, and her nightgown folded on the bunk, but now it felt like a prison rather than a refuge. The walls and ceiling pressed in on her. Sounds from outside were muffled through the stout timbers, shouts, screams and musket fire—all suddenly drowned out by the thunder of cannon. Even if she were deaf, Catalina would have felt the galleon lurch with the recoil. She staggered and put her hand on the table.
Lucia screamed and flung her arms around Catalina’s knees. Once again, Lucia was on the floor.
Catalina tried to free herself. “Please. It doesn’t help.”
“Oh, my lady, they’re pirates.”
“Privateers. They’re flying the flag of the Dutch Republic.”
Admittedly, any difference was quite abstract as far as anyone aboard the Santa Eulalia was concerned. If the other captain had a letter of marque from the Dutch renegades, it was merely an excuse to steal and murder.
The cannons continued to roar, sending shocks through the ship as if it were running before a storm. Lucia loosened her grip, allowing C
atalina to keep her balance more easily, but then a new quake sent her stumbling against the wall. The jolt was accompanied by a boom and the complaint of strained timber. Shouts from above reached a new crescendo. The attacking ship had made contact with the Santa Eulalia, ready for boarding. One way or another, the battle would soon be over.
Lucia knelt beside her bunk, praying like a child before sleeping. Her eyes were scrunched shut as she recited the words, clicking through the beads on her rosary. Catalina knew she should join her. What else could she do but pray? And yet it was impossible to think of anything other than the battle outside.
Catalina stared at the ceiling, tracking the sounds. The uproar on deck surged back and forth. Who was winning? She tried to pick out words amid the chaos. Were the commands still being shouted in Spanish? How long would the fighting last? Yet, surely the tumult above was beginning to slacken. Instead of a continuous uproar, the clamor came in bursts, with the gaps between growing longer and quieter—quiet enough to hear Lucia embark on her next Hail Mary.
Hail Mary, full of grace.
Our Lord is with thee.
Blessed art thou among women.
One last gunshot, and then there was silence.
Lucia opened her eyes. “Have we won?”
Another foolish question. Catalina bit back any answer, not that Lucia waited for one. She kissed her rosary. “Our Lord would not let the fiends and heretics win. We are fighting for the true faith.”
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