Extol of Agnatic Dreams (The Extol Series Book 1)
Read Extol of Agnatic Dreams (The Extol Series Book 1) Online
Authors: Jennifer R. Kenny
EXTOL OF AGNATIC DREAMS
Copyright © 2016 by Jennifer R. Kenny
Written and edited in New South Wales, Australia
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
For information contact; address: www.jrkauthor.com
Book and cover design by: Jennifer R. Kenny
Photograph by: Christopher Campbell.
Images sourced: unspash.com and vecteezy.com
First Edition
Preface
Titles are important to me and like many other works that have inspired me, the title of this book are clues to the storyline. It helps to know the definitions of the words and how I purposed them
Define extol:
to praise highly
Define agnatic: family connection that is traceable exclusively through males.
Define dreams: an aspiration; goal; aim:
Contents
T
HE GARDENS WERE IN bloom. Even from a distance, the vivid colours popped on the horizon and distracted the eye from nature’s glory. It was impossible to witness and not be moved by the organic beauty that blessed the land known as Crimah. Pops of colour within the shades of green announced the coming of the warmer weather and the fading of the rain. The people of Crimah were favoured by the Gods. Xado had proclaimed that Crimah would never come to see snow; however, that did not mean that winters were comfortable for the citizens. The ground would still be hard to work and the previous yield of grain had been flat compared to other years. But the flowers were in bloom, and the citizens would forget their troubles. Praises belonged to their patron saint Iloh, humble servant of Xado.
The people of Crimah were not the strongest of the provinces. They felt the pressure of the world more acutely than others. Their allies were limited and at times, their Lord - a man known as Barret Dilston - could not help but feel the burden of his title. In such a small province minor disruptions and heresy could bring down an empire. Should the fever strike and take out a family, it could not be ignored. It hit deep, and the lands themselves would take in the sorrow of the people and that would continue to be felt for a long time after.
The laws associated with being a smaller and younger province were consistently greeted with the highs. The good fortunes of one could be felt by many. It was a good time in the land of Crimah, and Barret was naïve to believe this could continue. Their lands would be cultivated, the gardens will be tended and the Dilston dynasty would not be questioned. This false hope would soon be broken. That day would not be today, but it could be soon.
Lady Thea was standing at the window, enjoying those lingering rays of sunlight. Finally, she was feeling the deeper heat of the midday sun for the first time in months. While the sun might have forced its way through the gloom of winter, it did so sparingly and it was always cold. Today was the first time the weather brought real heat and Thea’s pale skin invited the natural fire. It warmed the young woman to her core, bringing a smile to her lips as she watched the land her husband owned flourish with life. She could believe that the earth would continue to treat them well, offering reliable crops in return for their hard labour come harvesting time. Thea felt they were to be rewarded for doing the right thing in their small section of the world. Praise be to Iloh for the Saint’s constant presence.
Thea smiled, her eyes closing as the breeze reached for her. Tentacles of hair the colour of burnt sienna were caught and brushed away from her face and straying from the braid that ran down her back. It seemed that the pregnancy had forced her hair to take on that startling shade of red that only ever seem to appear when she walked in the sun for too long. It seemed to her that the wind was also mocking this gentle adjustment to her usual hair colour. For not a moment could she believe this was simply the wind, but instead this breeze was the continued communication from beyond this world.
By the good graces of Xado, the breeze was an extension of the tender loving touch of her
mother. Thea knew it was so as she could smell the jasmine in the air which had made up so much of her childhood. The gentle scent confirmed it in her heart who was brushing her hair back. Regardless of the seasons or the hard truths of her reign, the smell of jasmine would always bring her back to a childlike state of mind. Be they separated, for now, her parents’ death had continued to mark her in life. They continued to guide her spirit and keep her family safe. Now they reminded her that Barret would do well to her and made her newly aware of her responsibilities.
At that moment, a messenger appeared in the distance, and the alerts reached the tender ears of the Lady of the house. She was not to be expected to partake on the official ruling but the colours that adorned the young man’s hat had made her heart flutter in dread. The messenger would not bring good news. Her husband would need her support for whatever that boy introduced to their realm, even if her support was nothing more than being present. Her hand went to her stomach, the swollen skin and the tell-tale thumps of a baby within greeted her subconscious protective touch.
“Come child of mine.” She sighed softly to the unborn baby as she moved away from the window. “Let us see the news the far off King of Zorelian have brought us.” She still felt dread, the colours of burnt sand belonging to the closest kingdom were known to her. Never was it good news and rarely was it a welcomed interruption. Occasionally they simply brought to their door updates from the King. Far to often, they demanded more crops and were increasing taxes. If they wished to acknowledge it or not, their small section of the world was getting smaller.
The skirts of her dress no longer swept the halls as she walked, but still Thea had made the same habit of all ladies. She was not even aware of how her feet popped with every step to kick at the fabric that was not there due to her condition. She carried higher than most women; her stomach firm but the nurse had told her that it was nothing concerning. It merely meant the baby enjoyed the sound of Thea’s heart.
The midwife had assured her when the baby was ready; the child would move down. The act of childbirth was so known by the child, that there were steps solely designed by nature which could never be rushed. Thea had accepted this, but still she worried. Childbirth was surely the most natural thing a woman could do but that did not make it easy. She felt as prepared as one could be for the oncoming childbirth. However, there was the nagging belief that it may not be enough. Where would her husband and daughter Evangeline be without her? The very concept of such a notion brought tears to her eyes.
Sniffing from the sudden emotion, and discreetly placing her finger under her nose in some attempt to cover the sound, Thea cleared her throat and walked with a new purposeful stride. She would not become a burden to her husband but instead Thea had become a rare thing in this world. Far too often a woman’s place was overlooked and discouraged. Here, though, Thea offered comfort and openly supported her husband. Her trust in him was reinforced with the province, in turn leaking through the streets and grains until all believed in their Lord as Thea did.
Her footfalls echoed in the halls as she walked, not a quick pace of her youth but instead with power. Stone turned back the noise and created something to fear. Anyone to be lucky enough to hear her would have time to react appropriately to her title. While she now wobbled a little more than she used to, that echoing sound still gave the various servants of the castle time to low their heads and wait for her to pass them by.
When she had first come here, Thea had found the practice quite odd. It had been humorous to her for a time to step as lightly as she could manage and tip toe through the castle. No matter how Thea tried, it seemed the servants had enhanced hearing. Now, she barely noticed them at all. Perhaps more than before since Thea only had eyes for her husband’s quarters. She paused as the messenger left, the young man darting by her and Thea felt her curiosity rise.
Thea entered and with a flicker of his wrist Barret dismissed those closest to him. He was a large man, heavy built but no fat on him. Compared to Thea, who was an acceptable height for a woman but fragile in nature, Barret appeared even more imposing. Standing taller than his wife, he always seemed to take up more room than she did simply because of his build. His lineage showed through in his precise movements, and without good breeding to teach him to harness that power, Barret could be actually dangerous. While he rarely used those strengths against their people, the threat seemed always to be there in his stance. His barest movement was often taken as a command.
Someone closed the door behind the Lady on their way out but neither seemed to have noticed. Barret bent low as he greeted his wife with a kiss, delicate as the first one he had ever given her. He only allowed himself such displays when they were alone and he was sure to take full advantage of the small window of opportunity. His hand went to her stomach, a gentle pressure to their growing child. “For what do I owe this pleasure? I thought you were supposed to be relaxing.”
“I am just growing a child Barret.” Taking her husband’s face in her hands and smiled. “Surely I can walk around while that process comes closer to its completion.” She teased him. She was touched by his constant awareness of her condition, and most of the time she could handle the way his green eyes would watch her with concern and not adoration, even if those anxious moments were fleeting. Thea would never admit to Barret how she feared labour and the realities of birthing this child. That was for her soul to bear and no one else’s. She would barely whisper her fears to her midwife.
Not too many men would care so deeply for their wife. Thea would not have taken offence if Barret had been just like ever other member of his sex and followed the expected reactions of the male crowd. During her first pregnancy, he had never been so concerned about her state. That had quickly changed after the nurse confirmed her pregnancy for the second time. It was a trait that she welcomed and nourished for entirely selfish reasons. His attention was gratifying and she took all opportunities to bask in his praise and concern. Today though she would not let him distract her even as his fingers drummed the tight fabrics that protected her stomach. “What words did the messenger of Zorelian bring?”
Barret looked away and the silence drew out between them. Somewhere close by water dripped. Barrett counted the drops and mentally attempted to will his wife to take her mind elsewhere. However, she was as stubborn as she was beautiful. He knew better than to assume Thea could be so easily distracted. He cleared his throat and when she did not change the topic he finally folded. “Please, sit.”
Thea did as she was told, Barret holding her hand to offer support as she gripped the carved wooden handle of the chair by the dead fireplace. The wood that chair was made of was old and worn by age. A thousand others had run their hands over the wood and clinging to it for support as she did now. It was still gorgeous wood to look at, and Thea enjoyed having the antique in her husband’s study. His cares would wear down the wood further, just like the many men before him. Someday their children would do the same and so the legacy would continue long after their time had passed.
“The messenger was not from the Kingdom of Zorelian.” Barret foolishly said, distracting her from the wood when he should have remained silent if he had wanted to keep the truth from her. What was wonderment in her mind, he had seen as silent waiting. Barret did not like to keep his wife waiting.
“I saw the colours that decorated his hat from my window. Even from my high vantage that shade is not easy to mistaken. Do not lie to me, Barret.” Thea interrupted.
“You are lucky you are my wife. For a woman, you have a charming way of being disobedient and improper.” Thea lowered her eyes but peeking at her husband from under her lashes she saw Barret smiling as he took to sit by her on the bricks of the fireplace. Barret did not care for proper ladies. A trait that he had been quick to share and encouraged her to break the traditional roles she had been raised to exhibit as a woman.
“The messenger came from our allies to the North; his attire was stolen and used by their spy to ensure his safety. I believe him when he tells me this because his news was nothing the King of Zorelian would want me to know.” Barret was still struggling with the secreted away communications and the ramifications of his decision.
“So his news was still bad?” Thea had been hoping for perhaps some good news but no, the curse of the Zorelian kingdom would work its magic on this day, even without stepping one foot within the province of Crimah.
Barret nodded gravely. “According to the messenger, there is a plan to take the territory from us.”
“There had been rumours of a takeover for years. Our crops have been too good, yielding more than we could want and more than they could hope to take.” Thea was quick to dismiss it as nothing more than gossip but Barret was not tempted by her explanations.
“There is a date.” He hated to burden his pregnant wife with such news, but Thea needed to understand the gravity of the situation. Barret was also aware of how Thea can be. She would be worse with being kept in the dark. “Two weeks from now, they will come and demand from us more ransom then we can afford. When we fail, and surely we will fail to appease their king, the province will be taken as payment.”
Thea watched Barret and saw the little things that no one else would have bothered to check. The stillness of his breath, the way he held himself and the way his eyes danced from staring at nothing to staring at her stomach. Barret was in pain, real pain that could not be healed by the infirmary. He feared for his family and he saw no sacrifice he could make to ensure their longevity. He was a good man and a great Lord to the land.
She reached for his hand and he took it with no hesitation. Thea squeezed his hands, feeling the tension in them. The scars of battle and the lines of life were known to her, and instinctively she found the longest of his scars. The ruined and repaired flesh was raised, following the long ago mark from his palm to the back of his wrist, collecting damage towards his elbow. Her fingers traced the line for as far as she could without losing his hands.
“You have not given up hope,” She said after the longest silence. Barret was keeping something from her and Thea did not like it when he would do that. It was usually something he knew that she should not agree to without some fight. Eventually, he would tell her; they had very few secrets between each other, but only after he had constructed the perfect words to convince her that this was the only way. “Barret, tell me your thoughts.”