The Edict (The She Trilogy Book 1)

by P. J. Keyworth

  As he climbed the steps, a heavy-footed weariness overtook him. He had not slept since the night before last, and it was taking its toll. He was not as young as he used to be, and at a time when there had been loss as well as victory, the grief was as exhausting as the battle.

  He pushed the door of the room open after knocking briefly. He hadn’t received an answer on his last two visits and he was sure he would not receive one now. An oil lamp flickered on the bedside table. The King was sat next to Kiara on the bed, one of his hands clasping hers.

  As Zephenesh came closer he saw to his delight that Kiara was sat up, her eyes open, looking at Trevisian. Those clear blue pools turned upon her uncle soon enough and recognition dawned there.

  She tried to speak but the sound did not come immediately. Trevisian picked up a flask from the floor and held it to her lips. She drank without argument and then smiled at her visitor.

  “Uncle.”

  “My child.” He came towards the opposite side of the bed to the King, perching gently upon its edge and reaching a hand towards her. “It is good to see you awake. How do you feel?”

  “Alive.”

  Zephenesh heard the whisper of a chuckle from her husband.

  “And the wound?”

  She pulled weakly at the covers. There was no strength left to her and the King took over her actions without request, moving the material away to reveal a perfect silver line on her stomach, no longer than a thumb.

  “Where is your saviour?”

  “You mean the one who almost got her killed?”

  “Trevisian.” She placed a weary hand over that of her husband’s. He did not calm immediately but relented on the line of conversation.

  “We have not seen him since she woke. He said he had things to do.”

  Kiara’s mouth took on a wan smile.

  “I’m glad for his knowledge,” Trevisian conceded.

  “His magic,” Kiara corrected.

  The King rolled his eyes causing a rasping chuckle from his wife.

  “You change to the form of an animal and you laugh at healing magic?”

  “I think the events of the past few days show us just how little we know of the world.” Zephenesh remarked gently.

  “I don’t care about the world,” Trevisian replied.

  “Your actions saved all of us.”

  “What actions?” asked Kiara softly.

  “Your husband came back into the fray, after he knew of your safety, to lead the final charge. He killed Garesh himself. Once the head of their army was taken down the rebels surrendered.”

  “A great warrior.” She smiled but then her hand suddenly twitched drawing Trevisian’s attention immediately back to her. Zephenesh looked too, seeing her eyes suddenly take on the haunted look that the King had seen several times through the night.

  “I can see them,” she whispered, “I can see them.”

  “It’s okay.” The King moved in towards her, his hand coming around the back of her head and drawing it into his shoulder, quieting her anxiety. He stroked the thick hair, rubbing a hand across her back, waiting until the crying stopped.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, drawing away from him after a few moments, rubbing at her eyes. “When I see them they’re so real.”

  They didn’t know what she saw, or who she saw, not even she understood. The visions had started with the stab of that dagger. Zeb had listened to her description last night but had not ventured to express his thoughts aloud though they had all seen the knowing in his eyes. Zephenesh had watched the King pin the elf against the wall and command him to talk but the steely eyed elfin man had refused and Kiara’s pleas had freed him.

  None of them knew what it meant, or if it would stop, but for the moment, the fact that she was alive and safe was enough.

  “I know you do not wish to leave her,” said Zephenesh, turning to the King. “But some of the Laowyn are talking of settling here, while others wish to return.”

  “Let them.”

  “You do not understand; your Kingdom needs balancing.”

  “No, you don’t understand! I shall not leave her again.”

  He had risen from the bed and Zephenesh knew argument was futile. He must go. He rose himself, squeezing Kiara’s hand and smiling at her before turning to leave.

  Chapter 31

  “You must go.”

  “Do not tease me!” Trevisian was pacing, his hands raking back through his dark hair. He hadn’t slept in days and it was showing. His patience was fraying.

  “Come here.” She patted the bed beside her and he came to her reluctantly. She made him lay next to her, his head upon her stomach, all thoughts of the stab wound gone.

  “I thought I lost you.”

  She stroked the lengths of black hair back from his face. Her breathing was steady and his soon slowed.

  “Don’t do that to me again.”

  She continued to stroke him, as if that was all the reply he needed.

  “What if the visions never go away?”

  “They will,” he replied with confidence.

  She sighed.

  “Fidel’s funeral is soon and I wish to go,” she said, her hands stilling upon his hair, then they picked up their rhythm again. “But you should sleep first.”

  “You should be the one sleeping, you barely slept last night.”

  She did not wish to. The visions came more easily in her dreams.

  “Sleep,” she said again, continuing to stroke his hair. He did not take any more persuading, his weariness weighed on him like a heavy blanket and he was asleep and dreaming after a few minutes.

  When they rose to go to Fidel’s funeral, Trevisian bore most of Kiara’s weight. She wore one of his tunics, tied in at the waist with a silk sash, respectful both in its modesty towards the Laowyn and in its origin towards her husband’s people. Although her wound was healed she felt a spiritual weight dragging at her. She was weary in mind and body and it was making her vision and thought hazy.

  Many were the gathered, and many were the dead. Pieces of wood had been scavenged from all over the city to make funeral rafts. Oil lamps burned on each head, lighting the faces of those as they floated. Mourners stood in the waters holding them steady, waiting for the goodbyes to be spoken before they let go.

  In front of the shadows of those gathered in the dusk of the docks, Hendra’s horn was raised. Kiara could see his silhouette down by the water. He let out a low note, far different from that which had announced the battle yesterday. Was it only yesterday? It seemed so far away already.

  A breeze picked up from the mouth of the harbour, flowing in towards the bystanders. Kiara shivered, Trevisian’s arm around her instinctively tightening, her body pressed back against his chest.

  “We have seen great victory and we have seen great loss.” Ikara’s voice, oddly hollow, echoed out. All her fervour and silent determination had evaporated like the dew with the dawn. “The Great Spirit has watched over our nation and taken back those he wished to call home. We commend our loved ones to him - let these lights lead them to peace in the Spirit Realm.”

  Kiara watched her move towards the water. She wasn’t wearing armour but had exchanged it for a long flowing robe, looking more feminine than she ever had before. The soft, fine material trailed on the floor at her feet, clinging to her statuesque figure. The great rebel leader looked suddenly vulnerable, human. She bent to the nearest of the rafts. Kiara moved one step forward, Trevisian with her. She could see the outline of the one who lay on the raft. Fidel. In the light of the lamp she made out the fair hair which lay around his clean face. She could see the strong line of his chin, the handsome nose, his eyes closed in peaceful sleep. Ikara bent to him, the oil lamp behind her head, throwing her and Fidel’s faces into shadow. There was the outline of her lips touching his, resting upon them a kiss. Her lips withdrew half an inch. She was saying something to him. Then she lay a hand over his heart and though her face was in shadow, the droplets of water which fel
l from her eyes onto Fidel’s tunic caught the light like crystals.

  She rose then, pushing at the raft as she did so, and all along the dockside others did the same, pushing the dead towards the vast expanse of water which was rapidly becoming black oblivion in the night beyond the harbour walls.

  “Goodbye,” whispered Kiara, her eyes still fixed on the silhouetted figure of Ikara on the shoreline.

  “I must pay my respects.” Trevisian released her but she was not alone for long, Johan taking up her husband’s place as her support.

  She watched Trevisian as he made his way down to the water’s edge. Bearers of new rafts, those carrying the bodies of wildcats and other animals were brought down after him.

  “Our kind will no longer live in secrecy. The Alakvalto and the Reluwyn are one people, and today we mourn those who fought for the protection of the innocent, for the unity of our Kingdom. From this day forward, I will appoint emissaries from every race within my Kingdom and equality will be part of our new unity. Tonight we mourn the loss of those who will never see this new future.” He took a flaming torch from a soldier beside him and touched it to the first of the rafts.

  It was then that Kiara realised they were pyres. The Laowyn saw this as barbarous, even now whispers were passing between people like diseases, but there was something heroic casting those to the flames who died in battle. If there was to be a future for this Kingdom and all of its races, the first dangerous step had been taken.

  Chapter 32

  “You’re going!?” Kiara was shocked. Only last night they had burned or sent their dead into the sea. Today she was setting out with her husband for the capital, not knowing what they were to find when they got there. There was a fractured Kingdom which needed to be bound back together.

  Zeb shrugged. “Your uncle is to be the Laowyn emissary to the Reluwyn court – a high honour.”

  “Don’t change the subject.” She narrowed her eyes at him. She had been watching him load a small pony for the past half an hour, just after she had heard from Johan that he and the elf would be leaving.

  “I am being called elsewhere. Have no fear,” he looked sideways at her and winked. “I have no doubt we will meet again.”

  “Called somewhere? What do you mean called?”

  “There you are.” Trevisian came upon them, his hand immediately going to her waist as if marking his territory. He eyed the elf with the same dislike he always had.

  “Zeb’s just up and leaving!” She threw her hands up, expecting the same reaction from her husband. “He says he’s called elsewhere.”

  “Called?”

  “That’s exactly what I said.”

  Zeb sighed, turning away from his pony and slinging his hands on his hips while he looked at the future King and Queen of Emrilion. “I have been called,” he said frankly. “Besides, you and Trevisian have much work to do to stabilise this Kingdom. I will leave with Johan and travel south with him. Then I’ll go across the Western Sea.”

  Kiara hesitated, looking to Trevisian, remembering their conversation in the palace library, debating the existence of land to the west. Zeb had just confirmed it, but he didn’t give her time to ask questions.

  “I will see you again. I will need your help in the future.” And he left it like that, as cryptic as he always was.

  “Very well.” Apparently Trevisian understood it better than she did. She looked between the two, a feeling of exasperation building within her.

  “This is ridiculous - your place is here.”

  “My place has never been here.”

  Kiara couldn’t argue with it. It felt irritatingly true.

  “Who has called you?”

  “Those I work with. The Spirit Realm is out of balance. I was called here to help avert the genocide of your race, Kiara.”

  Her capacity for shock was being tested.

  “Your Great Spirit aided me, he directed me to you, even when we were in the cell in the Laowyn Resistance I knew you would be used. The Great Spirit has marked you out – both of you. The battle here has averted the genocide the dark spirits wanted. And now your marriage,” Zeb swallowed, “will cement the equilibrium that has been created. But there are other places that it is not so. For now I am being called onwards.” He looked straight into Kiara’s eyes in that penetrating way he always did when he chose to really see someone.

  “Kiara, what has happened to you will have its effects. You must believe that there is a greater purpose. Now I must go.” He paused like that, standing there, for a moment and Kiara took the opportunity to hug him without his permission. His sinewy frame was hard and she held him only briefly until she heard him breath again. Then she released him and smiled.

  “I shall never be able to thank you enough for my hair.” She smiled, attempting to lighten the mood. She would never be able to thank him enough for saving her life, and she knew it was down to his knowledge, the knowledge that he had never fully explained the origin of, that she had been rescued.

  “I shall miss you.” She moved back towards Trevisian, his hand finding her waist once again.

  Zeb swung himself up onto the small pony, and looked back down at her. With a frankness that denied all pretence he spoke, “I love you Kiara.” He said it simply, as if it meant nothing and everything all at the same time.

  And in that moment, knowing she loved Trevisian, knowing that nothing could ever change that, she stared back at him and replied, “I know.”

  Trevisian said nothing but Zeb nodded, as if something which had been needing to be done had been done, and then he left without uttering another word. Kiara knew she would see him again – he had said so himself, he would call upon them for the battle of the spirits. She was sure now that what they had just gone through was only the beginning.

  About The Author

  P. J. Keyworth, also known as Philippa Jane Keyworth, and known to her friends as Pip, has been writing since she was twelve in every notebook she could find. Originally trained as a horse-riding instructor, Philippa went on to become a copywriter before beginning a degree in History and graduating with First Class Honours. She now works in Digital Marketing and part-time as an author.

  Philippa has always written stories and believes that, since it is one of her loves and passions, she always will. She has dabbled in a variety of genres, and has settled for the time being in both fantasy and historical romance. An interesting combination of research and imagination Philippa believes it is important to escape into a world you want to be in. This is why she writes stories that will draw you into the characters’ joys and heartaches in a world apart from our own. Philippa has three historical romance novels out, each a standalone with indomitable heroines and lovable heroes. Her third novel, Fool Me Twice (Madison Street Publishing, 2016), follows the exploits of a notorious female gamester whose carefully orchestrated life is turned upside down by the arrival of a most ineligible gentleman…

  The Edict marks her first fantasy novel and is the first in a trilogy. Following the stories of strong yet markedly different heroines, the world of The She Trilogy will see the ultimate struggle between good and evil played out in a fantasy world, bringing it to the brink of destruction.

  Author’s Note

  I hope you’ve enjoyed reading The Edict. I must confess I love this story, but I think I’m allowed to confess it because the backbone of this story is true. The plot of The Edict is based on the book of Esther in the bible.

  Esther is one of my favourite bible characters (along with Ruth, who forms the basis of my debut novel The Widow’s Redeemer). Esther is a young and beautiful Jewish woman who starts life as no one particularly important and ends up saving a whole people. During the time Esther lived, the Jews were living under the rule of the Persians. The Persian King, Xerxes, was married to a woman called Vashti who treated him with contempt and as such he decided to find a new wife. In order to find another Queen, his government sent out a proclamation to gather all the eligible and beautiful maidens
of the empire to come and partake in twelve months of beauty treatments and then spend a night with the King. If he wasn’t too fussed, you’d end up relegated to the harem as a concubine, potentially never to be called again. One woman would be chosen to be the new Queen. It all seems quite patriarchal and yes, it was, this was thousands of years ago. It was onto this scene that Esther came. She was beautiful, her Jewish name was Hadassah, and she lived with her cousin Mordecai as her parents had died. When the maidens were chosen, Mordecai urged Esther to not tell anyone she was Jewish, so she didn’t. She hid her race and she was chosen. Now, here’s where our stories differ, my story doesn’t follow that of Esther’s absolutely, so it’s worth remembering that, as Esther actually went to the palace without running away dressed as a boy and being captured first! You’ll also notice that Xerxes was already King, unlike Trevisian. I guess after reading the book of Esther quite a lot (it’s only short if you want to give it a go), I was struck by how the individual people must have felt in the midst of this great empire with all its tumultuous events.

  So, Esther ends up at the palace and the eunuch, who looks after the concubines and is in charge of beautifying the maidens, favours her because she is beautiful in character and looks. He spends time telling her what the King likes and doesn’t like. Eventually it’s her turn to be called. She goes in and she finds favour with the King. She ends up becoming the Queen of all of Persia. How about that? Seems like a fairy-tale doesn’t it? Well, hang on a minute. Right after Esther becomes Queen, her cousin Mordecai, who sits at the gates of the palace regularly, hears two of the King’s officers conspiring to assassinate the King. Mordecai goes and warns Esther who in turn tells the King, the men are dealt with and this event gets recorded in the King’s record book. Remember that because it comes up later. In the meantime, let me tell you about this guy called Haman. Haman was one of Xerxes officials and he hated the Jews. He wanted power and when Xerxes orders everyone to kneel before him, and Mordecai doesn’t, Haman becomes furious and decides he wants to destroy all the Jews. Haman goes to Xerxes and explains that the Jewish people are different to the Persians, they don’t obey the King’s laws and it’s not in the King’s best interest to tolerate them. Can you guess who Haman is in The Edict? He convinces the King to put his seal to an edict which tells all the people of the country to destroy, kill and annihilate the Jews, young and old, women and children. Mordecai learned of this and he goes to Esther. He asks her to go to the King on her people’s behalf. Esther explains that she has not been summoned by the King in thirty days and if you go to the King without being summoned the King can have you executed. Mordecai challenges Esther, telling her that she won’t escape even though her race is kept a secret and says,