TEN CRESCENT MOONS
By
Marilyn Haddrill
Text copyright © 2012 by Marilyn Haddrill
Cover Art by Steve Bagi (Bagi Design), Chester Springs, Pennsylvania
All Rights Reserved
All characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons , living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Kindle eBooks by Marilyn Haddrill
Romantic Suspense (with co-author Doris Holmes)
Night of Shadows
Sting of the Scorpion
Romantic Fantasy (December 2012 Release Date)
Ten Crescent Moons (Moonquest Series, Book 1)
Dedicated to my grandmother, Murtie Martelia Willis — an inspiring example of strength in the face of adversity.
1
Lady Adalginza moved into the scant shade of a wooden post and frowned up at the bird perched haughtily atop an oil lamp. Oblivious to the pending danger, Starla casually preened her fluffed blue, scarlet, and green feathers.
Careful, friend, Adalginza warned in mindspeak. These monsters just might put an arrow through your heart for sport.
In answer, Starla screeched once in alarm. Then she spread her wings and hastily fluttered away.
"I told you no more mindspeak. You will reveal yourself."
Adalginza ignored the woman's angry words whispered from behind her, and squinted anxiously into the red sun suspended low on the horizon.
Straight ahead and on the village's main roadway, wisping dust clouds marked the slow, weary progress of five armored soldiers and their mounts.
The leader wore the crescent-shaped symbol that — placed across the heart on a man's steel armor — designated him an officer.
Adalginza could not yet clearly see the face of the new officer, a captain who led the expedition. But his arrival at his new post in the village of Sola Re signaled that her own mission must now begin in earnest.
Although she had waited many days for this moment, she must hide her loathing with an air of submissiveness. She must somehow pretend friendship with this hated enemy.
Adalginza resolutely gathered the folds of her ceremonial feather skirt, then daintily stepped up from the street and back onto the town's boardwalk. There, she rejoined the taller, stern young woman who awaited her.
Streams of indifferent pedestrians parted around them, coming and going, like river water around two insignificant rocks.
"Well?" Bruna asked.
"It is they." Adalginza spoke barely loud enough for her companion to hear. "The new captain of the knights is with them."
"May he rot in the pits of the carrion eaters." Bruna spoke defiantly, causing a few passersby to shoot curious glances their way. "Look at them. They wear the suffocating armor of metal, even while the sun still burns in the sky. They ever complain of the heat of our land, yet they refuse to dress as we do for fear of becoming like us."
Adalginza placed her woven straw fan above her lips, to hide their movement from those who might sight read her words.
"I implore you. Please keep your voice low and your manner modest. You are pretending to be my slave. You cannot act as an equal here."
"I will act as I please when we are alone."
"We are not alone!"
Adalginza took a few steps away, partly because Bruna had increasingly shown less inclination to bathe while in her assumed role.
But even in the best of circumstances, Adalginza hated being in such close proximity to this woman —her brother's mate — who had always treated her so cruelly.
The soldiers drew nearer, but now almost seemed to be moving in slow motion. Adalginza looked up at the pale outlines of a few crescent moons, and said a secret prayer to the gods.
If they would but listen, perhaps the bloody events that were about to unfold might be stopped through divine intervention.
Bruna reached over, grabbed Adalginza's arm, and squeezed it hard between her boney fingers. "Stop daydreaming, stupid child! Keep your mind on what you must do here today."
"Let go!" Adalginza yanked her arm away, but kept her voice low. "You are the one who must watch your actions. See? The captain grows closer and now looks our way. Your arrogance has attracted his scrutiny."
"It is your beauty — and those abominable indigo eyes of yours — that have attracted his lust," Bruna replied contemptuously.
Still, to Adalginza's relief, her companion finally bowed her head and slumped her shoulders into the appropriate posture. Her plain, tan snakeskin frock, bare feet, and lack of other adornment reinforced Bruna's lowly status.
At the sight of the soldiers, the crowds on the boardwalk had dispersed to hastily disappear into the open doors of mercantiles and rounded adobe residences.
No one wanted trouble with armed knights.
Adalginza, however, nervously held her ground.
The captain of the knights fixed a bold stare upon her. Nor did he turn his head away as the muscled golden sturmon he rode clomped steadily closer down the hard-packed road. The soldiers following their captain, too, could not avert their gaze.
An unescorted lady of knights was a rare sight in the frontier. Adalginza planned to take full advantage of that fact.
"He comes this way," Adalginza said, still holding her fan demurely to her face. The soft, sweetly flower-scented puffs of feathers tickled her nose, almost bringing on an uncomely sneeze. "This may be easier than we thought. Is my appearance pleasing, do you think?"
"In that blue skirting and bodice sash? You look like a foolish virgin left for the saints to unwrap during the sacrament of the five moons."
"Enough Bruna. It is the way their women dress. You know I am not comfortable doing this."
"Ah, but you are comfortable with their riches, are you not? And growing more so every day."
"You speak from the spur of jealousy. You are my brother's beloved and only. I would think that someday from you I would hear the voice of friendship."
"As his sister, and by blood right, you are entitled to Benfaaro's protection. I must honor his wishes by being here with you. But from me you will never have friendship."
"I have done nothing to harm you," Adalginza muttered.
Bruna took Adalginza's right hand and — holding it low and out of sight of the approaching soldiers — dug in her cruel, sharp fingernails so deeply that blood was drawn from the palm.
Adalginza tried to yank her hand away, but Bruna held tight.
"You will betray us some day, little sister of Benfaaro. You may be Of the Blood. But your blood is tainted. You are half devil — more like those devils on their sturmons than like us."
Adalginza felt the threat of tears — mostly of anger — but refused to show weakness to Bruna.
"If I could somehow remove that half, and kill it — I would. You know that."
Bruna dropped Adalginza's hand and laughed without pity.
"Then you would be of no use to us. No, my dear, you must stay alive. And I am here to make sure you do what you are told."
Adalginza felt something powerful stir in her soul.
A rebellion? An urge to escape? Cowardice?
Part of her wanted to run away and part of her wanted to slap Bruna, and stomp on her, and hurt her — the way she had always hurt Adalginza as a child.
But a kinder spirit, the woman who had actually raised Adalginza, had guided her earlier years. And that's why restraint took hold.
Perhaps part of her was the spawn of the devil. But at this moment, Adalginza knew she was a far superior being to this bitter woman standing beside her.
She collected herself, and spoke calmly to Bruna.
"I tell you be silent now, and behav
e mildly."
"Yes, mistress."
The bitter mockery in Bruna's voice hung in the air like the powdery dust stirred under the heavy feet of the sturmons carrying the heavily armed soldiers.
Already, their long slender ears were aimed curiously at Adalginza. She desperately tried to block the mind link she naturally felt with the creatures. But her action was as futile as trying to halt the sun from its slow descent into darkness.
She sensed the weariness of the animals, mingled with mild curiosity at her presence. Sturmons typically were gentle creatures, who sometimes suffered great cruelties at the hands of their masters. Not so here, though. She felt the ease of their thoughts, and it surprised her.
The captain's golden sturmon, strikingly dappled with white and gray spots, then nickered at her.
Adalginza pretended indifference, while trying to conceal alarm.
An animal's excited reaction to her gift could betray who she was. Her real name, when spoken in the dialect of her tribe, had the meaning of she who speaks the silent language of furred and feathered.
If she were to pronounce that name here, with all its implications, it would mean certain death. Here, she must be only Adalginza. A demure lady of the Crescent Houses driven by custom from her protected abode.
The welcoming stance she took on the boardwalk to greet the knights meant that — in polite society — they had no choice but to acknowledge her.
The captain of the knights stopped, as custom demanded, and removed the cumbersome helmet that he tucked under one brawny, deeply tanned arm. Long locks of matted dark hair spilled down around his shoulders.
The soldiers behind him mimicked their leader's actions to the accompaniment of metal clanking against metal. The stench of sweat from both men and animals swept over Adalginza, causing her to bury her nose even more deeply in the fan.
These men must have spent many days along the trail, without water for washing.
In a first encounter, Adalginza was forbidden by the rules of the House she pretended to represent to meet the captain's look directly. Instead, she carefully splayed the fan against her face.
She reminded herself that she must be brave. She must do her duty, no matter the cost to herself or her virtue.
Finally, she gave him a coy, sideward glance through thick lashes. She had expected his eyes to glint with the wanting of a woman. To be cruel and without honor as so many of his kind were. Instead, they were bright with an intelligent humor that lit both face and mouth. The dark smudge of beard covering his lower jaw and upper lip failed to conceal his youth.
He was not at all what she expected. And that might mean trouble.
"Lady of the House of the Fifth Crescent Moon, I greet you."
The captain sounded almost bored with the standard exchange, even a little put out that her presence had interrupted his immediate purposes. He, of course, had read her title from the symbols on her sash, just as she knew his from the designation on his armor.
"Captain of the Knights of the Crescent Sword, I greet you as well. And I also salute your most honored House of the Ninth Crescent Moon."
No exchange of greetings was necessary with the soldiers following him. They were not of royal blood and displayed no particularly distinguished symbols of status.
The man at the captain's right did have an impressive array of jewels forming the crescent on the hilt of his sheathed sword.
She knew those precious gems were awarded as merit for numbers of enemy slain. She dropped her eyes momentarily, to hide a flash of hatred.
Those slain were her own people. Innocent people, murdered by these cruel conquerors.
The captain shifted impatiently in his saddle. "The courtesies have been observed. You may look directly at me to state your business. But please make haste. I look forward to the solace of my new abode. And a bath. As you might have noticed, I need one."
His frank talk left Adalginza speechless momentarily, but he paid her no further attention. The captain peered over his shoulder, back down the street.
"Where are the wagons, Luzicos?" He addressed the soldier with the expression as hard and cold as the jewels he wore.
"I hear them coming, sir. They were right behind us."
Sure enough, two lumbering wagons rounded a building that blocked part of the view of Sola Re's main street. They looked like toy wooden replicas, growing slowly larger under the power of two teams of four sturmons straining with the heavy load of supplies and passengers.
"Ah. Well. They are far behind. So we must wait anyway, it seems." Resignedly, the young captain threw one leg over the saddle and slid nimbly from his mount to land directly in front of her. "You have my full attention, lady. For the moment, anyway. Your name, please?"
"Adalginza."
"I said you can look directly at me. So do it. I find it impossible to converse without an honest look at someone's face."
"If — you say so, sir. But it is unseemly."
"Unseemly, or no. It is what I prefer. I thought custom would not be so rigid here in the frontier. But then it is you who probably could teach me about the frontier. How long have you lived here?"
"In Sola Re? For almost three seasons. But I was born in the frontier, sir."
"Really?" His eyes rested briefly on the ceremonial sash covering her bosom. "And you are from the House of the Fifth Crescent? I'm aware that your founding clan is on the Ibornian sector of the Prime Continent. Very impressive place. Though cold out on those plains. I attended some classes at the War Academy there with a few of your cousins. Distant ones, of course. I'm sure you've never met them."
"Very unlikely, sir. I myself have never even been to the Prime Continent."
"Not surprising at all. The Houses are scattering like the winds. Probably for the best. The in-breeding creates some frightful monstrosities. A small percentage of children of the House of the First Crescent have extra toes on their right feet, and no wonder. But what am I saying? Your House prohibits education for daughters. You don't even know what genetics are."
Adalginza knew perfectly well, but hid that fact by raising her eyebrows in puzzlement.
The captain shifted the weight of the heavy helmet under his arm, and peered down the street at the slow progression of the wagons. He turned back to give her an authentic smile so disarming that it temporarily interrupted her heart's anxious thudding.
"My name is Kalos."
A long, awkward pause followed.
The nudge Bruna gave her was too subtle for Kalos to notice, thanks be to the gods. Adalginza fought panic, trying to think of what to say beyond the carefully rehearsed script she had formulated.
She had been so sure the ritualistic first greeting of the knights would guide her through this meeting. She hadn't expected the new captain to be so — unsettling.
Still, she had to say something, no matter how insipid.
"So, you are a scholar? As well as a soldier?"
"Indeed. Unusual, I know. I joined the crusade as a soldier to satisfy my need for adventure, and as a scholar to satisfy my need to know. Does this make sense to you, Lady Adalginza?" He didn't wait for an answer. "No, of course not. It doesn't even make sense to my own family."
At that moment, a loud female voice sliced the air like a sword thrown through gel. "Kalos! Who is that woman?"
The voice originated from the first wagon.
Adalginza stared at it long enough to identify the erect figure of an elder, dressed in a traditional grass green robe of the Ninth House. She boldly sat next to the wagon driver, who looked so miserable that Adalginza guessed he wished his passenger had chosen to ride in the comfort of the shaded seats in back.
"I will introduce you, Mother! And Zartos as well! Have patience!" Kalos grinned at Adalginza. "Prepare yourself. Mother thinks all available ladies of knights are out to snare me as a prize husband. I'm very wealthy, you know. Not to mention handsome. And charming."
"Oh?" Adalginza felt her cheeks burning. She thought she hea
rd smothered laughter from Bruna's direction.
"I am making a joke. Surely you recognize that. Ah, but where are my manners? You had business with me. I should give you a chance to speak. Quickly, please. For I must soon be on my way."
"I wish to invite you — "
The noise of the two wagons rumbling like a rock fall cut off what Adalginza was about to say. As the first rolled to a halt, the lady aboard the wagon held out her hand to the driver in a clear gesture that drove him hastily from his seat.
He ran to her side of the wagon to assist her in a step down to the running board. She gathered up the folds of her flowing robe and marched over to her son. The glance she gave Adalginza was dismissive.
"You are from the House of the Fifth Crescent? Poor dear. Such a repressive place."
"Mother, your manners are lacking." Kalos smiled tolerantly.
"Are they? Yes, I suppose they are."
She turned back to Adalginza and extended her left hand. Ceremoniously, Adalginza touched the tips of the long, slender fingers with her own right hand, then made a small curtsy.
"I am Adalginza, third lady of the House of the Fifth Crescent." Her designation identified her as young, from the third generation of those still living.
"And I am Redolo, first lady of the House of the Ninth Crescent. Rebels that we are."
This was not accepted ritual script. Not at all. And once again, Adalginza had no idea how to respond.
At least she now better understood where Kalos had acquired his outrageous behavior.
She admired the intricate braids of Redolo's gray hair, and the finely sculpted face of a woman she judged to be near the age of sixty full seasons. The scrutiny she received in return was bold, making her fidget inwardly with discomfort.
"Indeed, you have the eyes of the elite among the Crescent Houses." Redolo made the observation in a tone of grudging approval. "Indigo. Such a striking color. You don't need all that goo painted around them, my dear."
"I…don't?"
"No. They are lovely of themselves. A woman lucky enough to inherit indigo eyes is coveted among all the Houses. Silly, is it not? Because then the eye color will be bred into oblivion. But, of course you don't understand genetics. Why are you not taken?"
Ten Crescent Moons (Moonquest) Page 1
