The Watchers in Exile
Book Two of The Watchers of Moniah
by
Barbara V. Evers
PUBLISHED BY: New Mythology Press
Copyright © 2021 Barbara V. Evers
All Rights Reserved
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Get the free Four Horsemen prelude story “Shattered Crucible”
and discover other titles by New Mythology Press at:
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License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
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Cover Design and Original Art by J Caleb Design
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To my husband, Bruce, and our children and grandchildren. I love each and every one of you.
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Acknowledgments
Writing a book is exciting, fulfilling, and often a bit scary. Thank you so much to each person who gave a debut author a chance and read “The Watchers of Moniah.” Thank you for picking up the second book in this trilogy, too!
Many people helped with the writing of this series. I will forget someone—I already realized that with the first book—but to anyone who ever gave me encouragement or feedback, thank you. This includes my high school English teacher, Mary Seamon. You were the first adult who told me I could write. Although we only reconnected on social media in the last few years, your encouragement carried me over many barriers and bumps on the road to publication.
As always, I must thank my husband, Bruce, whose support, especially during the editing stages of this book, was so helpful. You accepted my constant disappearances as I waded through changes and struggled to get this one just right. I love you.
My beta readers, Tina, Linda, Sarah, Christina, Roiselyn, and Chris, continue to give me encouragement. Thank you for all you’ve done to help me write these books and for telling others about them. And I can’t forget my writing tribe, the members of the Greenville chapter of SCWA including Marcia, John, Bob, David, Susan, Phil, Adrienne, Valerie, Jim, Roiselyn, Larry, Irena, and Jim. You saw these books in their roughest forms and helped me improve my writing and the stories.
A heartfelt thank you to my editor, Rowe, for embracing this story and characters long before publication became a reality. A special thanks to Beth who helped find typos and any last-minute confusions still in the story.
A special thanks to Jake Clark at J Caleb Designs for creating an amazing cover and making Adana and her world so beautiful.
And, last, but definitely not least, thank you to my publisher, Chris Kennedy, who continues to push me to write and build new worlds.
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Contents
Map of the Four Kingdoms
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Cast of Characters
Author’s Note
About Barbara V. Evers
Excerpt from Book One of The Balance of Kerr
Excerpt from Book One of Forge and Sword
Excerpt from Book One of The Milesian Accords
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Map of the Four Kingdoms
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Chapter 1
The battle raged behind Adana, heir to the throne of Moniah, as she skirted the huge trees of the forest, keeping a close watch on Lady Elayne. At least, the lady managed to keep pace. The noblewoman still looked dazed. Probably still shocked over the soldier she’d killed moments before.
Adana grabbed the lady’s arm and dragged her along, following the telepathic call from Am’brosia. The link with the giraffe faded in and out as she wound her way around the camp. What could that mean? She paused. The sounds of pounding feet and strangled shouts approached from the left. She veered right, suppressing the urge to stop and fight. Am’brosia’s call resounded in her head. A warning to flee. She headed away from the battle.
At last, visible only from the flickering fires behind them, Adana spotted Joannu, a member of her honor guard.
The Watcher paced beside three saddled horses. “Thank the Creator,” Joannu exclaimed as they rushed toward her. The three mounted the horses, but before Adana could spur hers into a run, Joannu grabbed the bridle. “We must move quietly so as not to draw attention.”
With a quick nod of acknowledgment, Adana reached out to Am’brosia, feeling the rise and fall of the giraffe’s loping stride through their link. “You released Am’brosia and Bai’dish?”
In the gloom, she saw the Watcher nod. “It seemed best. Before the soldiers came for them. Can you sense her? We should find them.”
Adana closed her eyes and fought to hold the link, feeling the bond tighten with the stretched tension of distance. “The connection is fading. We must hurry if I’m not to lose her.” She pointed to the east. “That way.”
Joannu nodded. “Slowly, we’re still close to the battle.”
It made sense, but Adana glanced back at the skirmish, shame heating her face over fleeing. Elayne had pulled her from sleep and dragged her from the fray, repeating orders from Montee, the First Vision. As heir, she must leave. She knew the truth, while she despised the act. Across the bond, Am’brosia agreed with Montee’s directive.
They ducked under low branches and followed Joannu through the dense forest, cries and the clash of swords fading behind them. Joannu kicked her horse into a gallop as they came across a path. The other two followed suit.
Anger shrouded Adana as she fled east. Why had her soldiers attacked each other? Flashes of the battle replayed in her mind. Shouts, the flash of swords in firelight, the crackle of fires eating away her encampment’s tents, the smell of burning wood and canvas. Who had attacked them and how? She didn’t need to ask why. Too many people objected to her betrothal to Prince Kiffen of Elwar and the joining of the two kingdoms.
Increasing her guard during the trip back to Moniah hadn’t prevented an attack. Once again, she wondered if she should have declined the betrothal to Kiffen. Of course, she’d tried, heart breaking at the idea of wedding someone else. Their counselors refused to listen to her or Kiffen, insisting their combined forces would strengthen the kingdoms for the inevitable war.
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When the horses emerged from the forest, the three women pushed them into a hard gallop. Joannu rode on Adana’s left flank, Elayne on her right, the thuds of hooves the only sound in the night. They reached the top of a slight rise, and Adana slowed her horse and twisted in the saddle to check behind them. A half-moon shone across the landscape. A slight breeze lifted the hair pulled free from her braid and stung scratches on her arms from the struggle with the soldier.
No one in sight. No smoke in the air.
The forest trees lined the horizon as far as she could see. Would the fires set by her attackers burn out or destroy the forest?
“Ballene’s fire!” She huffed the expletive, her concerns jumping from alarm over the night’s events to concern over a large-scale fire. At least, it appeared they hadn’t been followed.
She kicked her horse into a gallop again.
How far had they ridden? Rolling hills rose to meet the horses’ hooves as they put distance between them and the forest. Her mind flew along her connection to Am’brosia, trying to determine the location of the giraffe she had been bound to for six years. Am’brosia led the way, along with Bai’dish, the giraffe bonded to Kiffen. The two beasts held a large lead on her small band. Adana recognized the rocking sway as Am’brosia raced across the land without hesitation. The clarity of the image conveyed confidence in their direction. Through Am’brosia’s eyes, the landscape resembled the same plains Adana now crossed, the hills dwindling into the flat grasslands of her kingdom, an occasional small herd of animals grazing in the distance. The giraffe’s assurance spilled through the link, a calm awareness of a plan.
Their route continued many leagues east, away from Adana’s View, her royal fortress and original destination. Chills ran down her back over how far off track they might be. Her mother always told her to trust the giraffes’ instincts. No other choice at the moment.
There were greater concerns for now. Where might Maligon’s soldiers lurk in the distance? Nothing disturbed the scenery, seen through her eyes or through the giraffe’s, but after last night’s attack, she didn’t trust her sight as much. An odd thought for a Watcher, blessed with the gift of vision, much less the rising heir to Moniah’s Seat of Authority.
As the sun peeked above the horizon, warmth crept over her body, a welcome relief to the horrific night. Joannu and Elayne slowed their horses, murmuring sighs of thanks in response to the light of day. None of the three had spoken since the first hurried words as they fled. The sun might provide comfort, but the trio remained silent and vigilant in their flight.
The ground flattened, with an occasional rolling hill interrupting the landscape, and Adana’s heart gave a double beat of hope. This was home. Moniah, at last. She glanced over her shoulder. No signs of pursuit.
A blanket of tranquility flooded through the connection from Am’brosia. Adana embraced the peace and paused to let it settle over her. Warmth and gentleness eased the tension in her shoulders, and she got a glimpse of a valley from the giraffe. A stream flowed through the quiet setting. Am’brosia beckoned Adana to hurry. Safety waited there.
How far? A distance, still.
Their horses crested a squat hill. A shallow creek twisted among the rocks and bends below. Their mounts hurried to reach the cool water, not waiting for the women to slide from their backs. The three women slid free of their rides and stretched. Adana checked her horse’s saddle and bridle, then moved upstream to fill her water cask. Elayne dropped down on the bank, scooping water into her mouth.
The young woman’s dress spread out around her, and Elayne hiked the skirts up to her knees, pulled off her shoes and stockings, and plunged her feet into the water. She turned and grimaced at Adana. “Your leathers make better riding clothes, I believe.”
Adana looked down at her sand-brown leather tunic and leggings. On her feet, she wore soft leather boots. What a relief, after three years of living in Elwar, to wear the uniform that fit like a second skin. She nodded to Elayne. “Much better than your dresses. Maybe we can find you something more suitable once we’ve reached the giraffes.”
The sensation of being observed crept over Adana, and she turned to find Joannu’s gaze upon her. The Watcher nodded once, then turned to maintain a careful guard over their surroundings. How strange to go from an entire unit of Watchers to protect her to only one. Had the others escaped the battle, or did their bodies lie on the forest floor, returning to the ground?
The thought made her hands shake. And what of her father? Had he escaped? She could ask Am’brosia. The giraffe would know if Va’lent, the regent king’s giraffe, had died in response to the ultimate loss, death of the royal bond. She didn’t ask, though. And Am’brosia, ever aware of her moods, didn’t reveal a thing.
Drying her hands on her tunic, Adana approached Joannu. “I’ll watch while you tend to your needs.”
Joannu joined Elayne by the water. Laughter between the two women rang in the quiet of the still morning. What could they have to share between them? Adana barely knew Elayne and still hadn’t determined whether to trust her or not. She turned her back on them, keeping watch on the horizon.
When Joannu appeared at Adana’s side, she turned to the soldier. “What happened? How were we attacked?”
Joannu scanned the horizon, then turned back to Adana. “It wasn’t my watch. I was asleep. Montee woke me and Lady Elayne and told us to get you and the giraffes out of the camp.”
Montee, her First Vision, the woman marked by the Creator to stand at Adana’s side as she ruled. Where was she?
Adana thought about those first confusing moments after Elayne woke her. They had come upon a clearing where two men fought each other. Both men wore Elwarian uniforms. She had drawn an arrow but hesitated, unsure who was the ally and who was not. “Who attacked us?”
Joannu’s face remained in a Watcher’s stoic mask as she answered. “They attacked from several points around and within the camp. Elwarian soldiers, mostly. I recognized several from one of our right flanking troops.”
When Adana left Elwar to return to Moniah, everyone knew of Maligon’s attacks against the neighboring kingdoms of Belwyn and Teletia. The traitor, once exiled by her mother, was still alive and renewing his attempts to overtake the four kingdoms. Or it might be his supporters, rebelling now that Adana would take the Seat of Authority.
For this reason, she had ridden out of Elwar in the center of a vast force of Monian Watchers and First Soldiers as well as Elwarian military. Prince Kiffen led one of the left rear flanks, but when they reached the dense forest, the surrounding troops could not stay as close as before. It made sense to strike her there.
Adana swallowed and looked back up the hill. Had Kiffen’s own men joined the traitor’s forces? Bile rose in her throat, the taste bitter and hot. She leaned toward Joannu, fighting down anger, and asked the one question plaguing her. “Why would Elwarian troops attack us?”
Maligon had struck at her in the forest before. Three years earlier, when she had traveled to Elwar after her mother’s death. That day, he used a solitary archer. This time, he struck from within, using her ally’s soldiers in his treachery. Who could she trust?
Joannu glanced behind Adana, and she turned to see Elayne approaching them, looking disheveled in her proper lady’s dress.
“My lady,” Elayne said, “they kept shouting, ‘Long live Queen Quilla.’”
Adana shivered at the words. If Quilla claimed the throne, where was Kiffen’s father? “King Donel?”
Joannu took a deep breath, glanced down for a moment, and then met Adana’s gaze. “Killed.”
Kiffen, her betrothed, fatherless. Adana swallowed. That made him, officially, King of Elwar despite Quilla’s actions. His stepmother, never endearing herself to Adana, seized the power that was rightfully Kiffen’s. Was she part of Maligon’s supporters or had she chosen this time of unrest to serve her own desires?
At least, she wouldn’t have to pretend to like the woman anymore.
“Yo
u’re sure of this?”
Joannu snorted. “The attackers kept shouting it as they fought. ‘Donel is dead. Long live Queen Quilla!’” She swallowed, then added, “‘Death to Kiffen.’”
Adana rushed toward her horse. “I need to find Kiffen.”
“Adana. No.”
She halted at the words. How long had it been since Joannu had called her by her first name? She turned and found the Watcher had moved forward and braced to stop her.
Elayne glanced between them. She laid a gentle hand on Adana’s arm. “My lady, your Watcher is correct. You cannot go after Kiffen.”
Of course, they were right. She must move on. Moniah needed her to return. Going back could endanger all of them, but going forward would take her farther from Kiffen, wherever he was. Had his camp survived the night, or did they suffer the same fate?
She took several focused breaths to fight the emotions tearing up her insides.
Am’brosia’s mind nudged Adana’s shoulder in the precise spot where Montee had pricked her skin during the recognition ceremony on her eighteenth birthday. Just days ago, but it felt like years. Strength radiated from the spot. A puncture, now healed, destined to help her know right from wrong, good from evil. Ever since the ceremony in Elwar’s court, the strange concoction infused in the pin provided warning or strength to her soul when she needed it, and it reinforced her connection to Am’brosia.
Through her tie to Am’brosia, she saw the two giraffes together, and beyond them, an image of Kiffen. The image was hazy. Kiffen was not with them, but the message was clear. He lived.
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