by Guy Antibes
The Guy Antibes 2014 Anthologies
The Alien Hand
An ancient artifact changes a young woman’s life forever. A glutton gladiator is marooned in a hostile desert. An investigator searches for magic on a ravaged world and finds something quite unexpected. A boy yearns for a special toy. A recent graduate has invented a unique tool for espionage. A member of a survey team must work with his ex-girlfriend in extremely dangerous circumstances. A doctor is exiled among the worst creatures he can imagine. SCIENCE FICTION
The Purple Flames
A reject from a Magical Academy finds purpose. A detective works on a reservation in New Mexico, except the reservation is for ghouls, demons, ghosts, zombies, and the paranormal. A succubus hunts out the last known nest of vampires on earth. The grisly story about the origins of Tonsil Tommy. In a post-apocalyptic world, two mutants find out about themselves when their lives are in imminent peril. STEAMPUNK & PARANORMAL FANTASY with a tinge of HORROR
Angel in Bronze
A statue comes to life and must come to terms with her sudden humanity. A wizard attempts to destroy a seven-hundred-year-old curse. A boy is appalled by the truth of his parents’ midnight disappearances. A captain’s coat is much more than it seems. A healer must decide if the maxim that he has held to his entire career is still valid. A fisherman must deal with the aftermath of the destruction of his village.
FANTASY
~~~
Guy Antibes books are available at book retailers in print and e-book formats.
Swords & Flame
The Sara Featherwood Adventures - Volume Two
Copyright ©2014 Guy Antibes All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced without the permission of the author.
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This is a work of fiction. The locations, places and characters it depicts are products of the author’s imagination including the use of fictitious names, places, and situations. Any resemblances to actual persons, locations, or places are purely coincidental.
Published by CasiePress in Salt Lake City, UT, October, 2014
www.casiepress.com
Cover & Book Design: K. B. Cassell
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Print Version
ISBN-13: 978-1501023248
ISBN-10: 1501023241
First Chapter of the next Sara Featherwood Adventure
Guns & Flame
A Sara Featherwood Adventure
Volume Three
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byGuy Antibes
Chapter One
The Charter
Sara Featherwood, the eighteen-year-old Countess of Brightlings, couldn’t feel more disappointed. First thing in the morning she had been bundled into a carriage and sent to the capital city of Parth, like a child being sent home by her parents. In a sense, since Duke Northcross instructed her to leave, she had followed her father’s orders.
As she traveled north, Sara could see winter lose its grasp on the land with patches of pale green beginning to pool in the countryside and the bitter wind now brought the faint scents of spring. She endured more of the cold winter than she had wished. Normally the coming of spring would have lifted her heart, but her recent adventures weighed it down.
“Why the morose face?” Willa, her confidante and housekeeper said. “You’ve got a new father and Klark Brownhill has declared his feelings for you.”
“And I’m heading north while Klark sits in Stonebridge and the Grand Duke of Shattuk Downs mulls over conditions of surrender.” Sara put her chin on her fist as she looked out the window. Her thoughts were drawn back to the last six weeks. Her stepfather hated her, Klark had promised to work in his father’s carriage works in Stonebridge for the next three years—three years—and now her real father had immediately dispatched her from the gathered armies of the King poised to put down the rebellion, after she had personally rescued him from imprisonment. She saw little justice in being so casually set aside.
Willa folded her arms and closed her eyes as the carriage continued to sway over the cobbled road. “The future, my dear. Concentrate on the future and put the past behind you. Isn’t that the saying you are always crowing about? Klark isn’t banished from Parth and the rebellion might not last out the week.”
Willa spoke the truth and Sara tried to calm down, but found it difficult. She had finally declared her love to Klark, after so long, and now the prospects of his not being close preyed on her mind. She hadn’t thought about his absences in the past, but that was before their moment at the army camp on the Narrows. On top of that, her mind still whirled with the memories of her exploits in Shattuk Downs.
She rubbed her injured shoulder. The healer had told her that she should rest it for the ten days it took to travel to Parth. There wouldn’t be any opportunities to get into trouble while she traveled in the carriage.
They stopped at an inn for the night. She hadn’t stayed here on her first trip to Parth from Shattuk Downs. The common room filled with animated talk of the army and smoke hung heavy in the air making the room darker. Sara wriggled her nose at the various smells of spilled beer and smoke and other things best left un-thought of.
“Come from the south, miss?” the innkeeper said as she signed the register.
“Shattuk Downs. A room with two beds and baths and something for our driver.”
“How goes the rebellion?”
“It’s on its last legs. I can’t tell you anything more.” Actually Sara could tell him much more, but her stories would be no different that any other war stories. The men would laugh and doubt the truth of her adventures, but she knew it all first hand. There were victories at Belting Hollow and Obridge, but the death of Captain Choster still made her choke with grief as she remembered his selfless sacrifice.
“I heard most of the army has headed east. One of them rolling musters again.” He smiled showing a gap-toothed grin. “The soldiers must be getting pretty damned tired.”
“I heard something about that,” Sara said. “My companion and I would like dinner in our room. Can you do that?” She wasn’t in the mood to answer any more questions and went upstairs.
Neither Sara nor Willa had much in the way of clothes. They had escaped Stonebridge with what little Willa could throw into two backpacks while Sara was a prisoner of the Grand Duke.
“This is much better,” Willa said while she ate. “I feel like no one’s after me or we’re after them for the first time in weeks.”
Sara nodded but only realized the truth of Willa’s remarks. “You’re right.” She managed a smile. “I’ve been so wound up for days. Even when we reached the Army camp with Duke Northcross, I felt like I was running from something.”
“And your Klark leaving?”
“Even after, worrying about the truce. We really don’t have anyone chasing us. We’re not fighting any battles or planning for any new ones.” Sara took a deep breath and stretched. “I can eat this without wondering if someone will barge in on us with some emergency.” She paused for a moment. “In the coach you mentioned the future. You’re right, that’s our focus. I’ll miss Klark terribly, but while we we’re working on the Women’s College, life won’t be so bad.”
“No.” Willa said and put her head down, concentrating on her dinner.
Her friend looked as if she doubted Sara could just forget Klark. Sara clutched the little carriage whistle necklace that hung from her neck, an instant reminder of Klark—as long as she wore that, some part of him would always be near.
As Sara unwound during her trip north, her thoughts turned to the challenges of the Women’s College. If she concentrated on that, her personal woes might be repressed. She began to make random notes in an empty notebook she had procured along with a few pencils at the Army camp.
Her intentions gave way to thinking back on her mission to Stonebridge. She spent the next week writing down her exploits, going over each step with Willa. It wasn’t easy with the jarring of the carriage, but she made do.
Perhaps Obed Handy, the Ro
yal Genealogist and cousin to both Duke Northcross and his brother the King Terrant of Parthy, might find something he could put into the Passcold family histories. Sara knew that Lisha Temple had talked Klark into writing a history, but that would be from Klark’s viewpoint and not Sara’s.
As she read back what she had written to Willa, her friend kept making her put in more about her own personal exploits. As much as Sara wanted to minimize her role in putting down the rebellion, Willa insisted on a more ‘robust’ version.
Sara looked at her companion. “I have a few additions to make.” She spent the next half-day writing down an addendum and handed it to Willa.
~
The carriage clattered on the cobbled road getting closer and closer to Parth while Willa read. She gasped and looked up. “This is true?”
“Yes. I didn’t want anyone to know, but after what we’ve been through, I couldn’t bear to keep it in any longer. Obed Handy and Duke Northcross know and I suspect the King does too.”
Willa squinted at Sara. “Show me.”
Sara took a deep breath and held out her hand. She thought of a little ball of flame and saidIgnite! in her mind. An apple-sized ball of orange and yellow fire appeared floated between them. It only lasted for a few seconds before it winked out of existence.
“That answers a few questions I had.” Willa folded her arms. Sara was a bit disappointed Willa didn’t react with more amazement. “I had my doubts about the candle story and West. My, my. I thought magic was only in fairy tales.”
Sara shrugged. “Mostly. Obed told me that it has mostly died out. My mother had a touch of it. Her cut flowers wouldn’t wilt for weeks and the conservatory was always green.” She thought about Brightlings, her home, now in ruins and her mother’s death that so changed Sara’s life. “Now you know about the paper on Jeramy Hardwell’s face. Duke Northcross. He can do a bit of magic too.”
“Where will this account go?”
“Obed Handy will file it in his archives. That will be, I hope, the only account of my version.”
“You never cease to amaze, Sara,” Willa said.
“Now that I have that load off of my mind, I can quite properly concentrate on the Women’s College again.”
Sara wanted to begin on writing notes about the establishment of the Women’s College but they had reached the outskirts of Parth. She put her notebook away and gazed at the city. In the light of spring, the city began to take on more life than the months of winter she had spent in Parthy’s capital.
She felt like she was coming home, when the carriage turned into the narrow cobbled lane only to enter the courtyard of the house that Duke Northcross had loaned to her. The recent adventure in Shattuk Downs started here and now it had truly ended—a full circle of the recent, trying events.
Sara wished that Shattuk Downs hadn’t been ravaged by the rebellion. Brightlings, the little manor where she grew up, now lay in ashes. Choster would no longer train Willa and her in weapons. Klark wouldn’t be showing up with his wonderful grin. She couldn’t escape a sigh as she stood in the courtyard. This was, indeed, a bittersweet reunion.
The house looked better than when they left, with early blooming spring bulbs packed into large pots flanking her entrance door. She’d never seen the house with color in the front. Sara looked at the bigger attached house that made up one side of the courtyard. Duke Northcross would, once he returned to Parth, spend little time in that house.
She looked forward to the day when they could meet again. The Duke wasn’t used to personal interaction on the level of a father-daughter relationship, which he reinforced when the both of them discussed the possibility when they were both imprisoned. Yet she looked forward to the day when she would again see him peeking out of his second floor window at her practicing weaponry below.
Willa rang the bell. The same servants still had worked in the house, except Choster, who posed as the butler, was gone—lost at the Battle of Obridge Gate. Sara rushed up the stairs into her bedroom to see that her clothes still hung in the closet and the carpet that had been cleaned of her bloody steps. She tested the secret door that led into the Duke’s house. It no longer worked.
Sara felt shut out and isolated, dampening her joyous return. But perhaps that door might be opened again when the Duke took up residence once more.
~
Willa knocked and entered Sara’s room as the morning sun brightened everything. “We have three visitors,” she said.
Sara struggled to rise from her bed. “Who?”
“Banna Thresher, her husband Perry Hedge and Anton Rider.”
Sara felt a little guilty sleeping in during her first night back in Parth, but she jumped up and put on a dress. “Help me with my hair. Just comb it back and tie it. I need to wash my face quickly. I can be down in a few minutes.”
“Yes, Countess.” Willa grinned at her.
“I guess I am a countess again, now that I’m back,” Sara said.
Willa produced half of a grin. “Get used to it, Sara.”
Banna and Hedge sat together in the sitting room. Anton rose as Sara entered and bowed.
“Vanna and your children are fine. I left them in Obridge.” Seeing her friends, here in her house, threw off some of the isolation that had smothered her when she arrived. These three were her closest friends, plus Willa, in Parth. She wished Klark could sit in this room with them, but she had to enjoy this reunion for what it was.
Banna, her mother’s old friend and the Headmistress of the Women’s School, knew much of Sara’s past. Her husband, Doctor Perry Hedge, had enlisted her help in the development of percussive powder, which Sara used so effectively in her foray into Shattuk Downs and Anton Rider had helped Sara through a difficult time at home after her mother died. She had been infatuated with his good looks and he had taken her to Obridge from Brightlings, but that relationship soon cooled when he asked her to lunch at his home where he introduced her to his wife, Vanna. After her recent trials in Shattuk Downs, their presence in her house felt right to her and grounded her existence in Parth.
“Thank you. It’s been difficult being separated for so long. I understand you’ve singlehandedly stopped the rebellion,” Anton said. “The Duke’s office has received a succession of birds.”
“I was part of a group of brave people, including Willa Waters. My butler, Choster, accompanied us and paid with his life.” She gave them a quick account of their activities in Shattuk Downs.
“Ah, Brightlings was just the right size,” Banna said, with despair in her voice. “It is so sad. All of it really, although I am very happy that West and Miller were caught out as rebels. I shudder to think that they taught at Tarrey College, the very idea!”
“Which brings us back to the Women’s College. I obviously haven’t seen Lady Worthy yet.”
“Don’t bother. She’s off of the project and is spending the spring and summer at Lord something-or-other’s estate. I’ve taken it up, since I’m stuck here in Parth,” Banna said. “I’m assuming Lisha made it through the Obridge nastiness?”
“She did and even came with us down to Stonebridge. I don’t know when you’ll be able to go back, but perhaps you’ll be here for some time to come.” Sara said. “Can I still help?”
“I counted on it, if you ever returned.” Banna smiled. “It looks like you did.”
Sara let out a little laugh. “I have and in some ways, I wouldn’t want to relive it, but there are parts that will be precious to me. Perhaps we can talk about those later.”
Hedge cooed, “Not something for the King’s weapons developer?”
“Did the birds mention our pipe exploders? You’ll get your turn.”
~
Banna arrived the next day with a box of notes. “I was able to use your study while you were gone so I could continue to build on your work.”
The slateboard had changed since Sara left and Banna had busied herself organizing all of the proposal’s many aspects with the board summarizing everything
. Describing her new ideas led to an hour or so of talking about the prospect of the Women’s College as part of the all-male University of Parth. Sara agreed with Banna that the College should be modeled after the integration of the Tarrey Abbey College with the Women’s School in Obridge.
“This is a wonderful plan, Sara. However what you’ve outlined is a notable endpoint. I’m afraid we’ll have to move slower than you’ve planned.”
“But we will have a King’s Charter,” Sara said. “With the power of the King of Parth, we can force the University to work with us.”
Banna shook her head. “No. A charter allows us to have a Women’s College and opens up thepossibilityto work with the University, but as I’ve found out while you’ve been gone, the King can’t force them to work with us. We’ll have to start with women teachers and a small cadre of students and then have the patience to grow the institution. Just like what we did in Obridge.”
“I refuse to work that way,” Sara said. “I don’t understand why my plan won’t work.” She had full confidence in the proposal and knew that the Women’s College would be successful in the first term.
Banna stepped back from the slateboard. “Listen, Sara. You might have done a superb job leading your little army around Shattuk Downs. You mentioned Captain Choster and how you relied on him. Why did you do that?”
Sara didn’t like being lectured to, but Banna had never given her bad advice. “Because he knew about leading men and had a great deal of field experience.”
