To Whatever End (Echoes of Imara Book 1)

COPYRIGHT

Copyright © 2014 Claire Frank

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written consent of the copyright holder, except for brief quotations for the purpose of reviews.

This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, events or incidents are products of the authors imagination and used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual people, places or events is purely coincidental or fictionalized.

Published by Mad Wizard Press

Map and interior art by David Frank

Edited by Eliza Dee of Clio Editing Services

Cover Art by Trevor Smith

www.clairefrankbooks.com

ECHOES OF IMARA SERIES

To Whatever End: Echoes of Imara Book One

An Altered Fate: Echoes of Imara Book Two

The Strength to Serve: Echoes of Imara Book Three
- coming January 2016

The Heirs of Imar: Echoes of Imara Book Four - coming fall 2016

OTHER BOOKS BY CLAIRE FRANK

Assassin's Charge: An Echoes of Imara Novel - coming spring 2016

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MAP

IMARAN MARRIAGE RITE

Mynas feorh singende eower cweoan mynas son

Aet-samne wea a-feagen

Ge-treowsian o arian ealdor be-innan eowa

An-standan neah eower siid

O aeg-hwaet endian

My soul sings and yours answers my song

Together we become one

I pledge to honor the life within you

And stand by your side

To whatever end

1. A JOURNEY

Cecily closed her eyes, her breath fogging in the cool predawn air, and opened her Awareness. She felt it reach out from her core as it spread across the forest floor, picking out every pine needle, branch and stone. In seconds, she had a mental map of the surrounding terrain. She could see the forest debris between the trees and the rise and fall of the land better than if it had been full daylight. The clearing was flat, but she could feel the slope to her left where the hill descended toward her home. He was coming, and she would be ready.

Although he was adept at hiding his movements, she felt his careful footsteps before she could hear them. She marveled at how softly he could step, despite his size. He could take her unaware if she wasn’t expecting him. She also knew that his strength made people underestimate his stealth. She would not make that mistake.

As she focused on the feeling of his feet on the forest floor, Cecily almost forgot she was standing in the clearing, in plain sight. With a sharp intake of breath, she sprinted, keeping her Awareness spread out as she ran. Immediately, he gave chase. He was faster than she was, but she could see where she was going in a way he could not. His speed defied the darkness, and as he gained ground, she wondered how he could see well enough to move so fast.

As the ground plunged downhill, she turned sharply and almost lost her footing. Dirt cascaded around her feet, and she pushed her heels into the ground to keep from falling as she stumbled down the hillside. He would be within sight of her now, but she did not feel him follow her down the slope. The vibrations of his footfalls veered to the right. Once she reached the bottom of the hill, she’d have a direct route home and he would be left behind. What was his game?

He ran farther away and disappeared from her mental sight. The branches rustled in the breeze as Cecily slowed, scattering a few pine needles at her feet. She couldn’t risk the effort to push her Awareness out further to follow him. She’d have to slow down and keep an eye on her edges, waiting for him to get close.

The image of the terrain sharpened in her mind while she crept forward, feeling the tingle of anticipation run up her spine. She scanned the forest and darted forward, choosing her steps carefully. Her tall leather boots hardly made a sound, even amongst the twigs and pine needles.
Where is he?
She picked up her pace and before long, she could see smoke curling from a chimney. Home. She was almost there, and still no sign of her pursuer.

His huge form burst into the quiet clearing, stunning her with his speed. Dropping her Awareness, she ran, sprinting down the gentle slope toward her home. The terrain was open, but she knew she couldn’t make it. No longer trying to hide, he ran toward her at full speed. Her breath came in gasps and her legs burned but she pushed harder, determined to make it to her house.

The sound of his footfalls rose and his hand brushed her back. She threw herself forward and tucked into a roll to evade his grasp. Turning and Wielding as she skidded across the ground, she used her Reach to grab his feet and make him stumble. He lost his footing as she scrambled to her feet. She Reached again, Pulling his legs so he crashed to the ground and landed hard on his back.

She turned and ran, pushing her legs as hard as she could. She was almost there, but his feet pounded behind her. He clutched the back of her shirt, pulled her to a stop and flung her to the ground. His strong grip held fast and he caught her leg with his other hand before she could kick it away. He pulled her across the ground as she struggled and turned her onto her back, pinning her under his weight.

She stopped struggling. Her breath came fast and she shook her dark hair out of her eyes. He held her down by the wrists, his hips holding hers flat to the ground. They stared at each other for a few seconds, his silver-gray eyes intent on her face, his grip on her wrists firm but gentle.

His face broke into a wide smile and they both began to laugh.

He leaned his forehead down to hers as his shoulders shook. “That was well-played. I didn’t think I would have time to circle around you.”

“You shouldn’t have had time. I slowed down too much at the bottom of the hill. If I had just kept running, I would have been inside brewing our tea by the time you got here.”

“I counted on that. You always think too much.”

She rolled her eyes but grinned back at him nonetheless. “You could let me up, you know.”

His eyes narrowed and his mouth turned up in a sly smirk. “I could. But I rather like this position.”

With a heave, she tried to thrust her hips up, but he was too big to budge. “But the ground is cold,” she said, sticking out her lower lip.

“Fair enough,” he said with a laugh and helped her to her feet. They brushed each other off and walked side by side into the comfort of their home.

Her husband, undaunted by the dirt on his clothes, went straight to the kitchen. He uncovered the glowstone lanterns, flooding the kitchen with light, and she heard the sound of pots and pans rattling around as he set about making breakfast. He always worked up an appetite after their little games. They often spent their early mornings in a mock chase through the forest, in order to keep their skills sharp.

Cecily stood in front of the river rock fireplace and picked bits of twig out of her long braid. After brushing a few pine needles from her tunic and leggings, she poured herself a steaming mug of tea, and wandered out to the porch to enjoy the quiet. The sky glowed with the promise of the sun, blazing purple and red as the darkness retreated. Closing her eyes, she once again let her Awareness spread. She felt the boards of her house, logs she and Daro had felled themselves, each stone hauled from the riverbed with their own hands. Daro’s movements in the kitchen were comforting and she allowed the calm of the moment to soothe her thoughts. The clanking of pots in the kitchen broke her concentration and her Awareness shrunk back suddenly as released her Wielding Energy. The world seemed to fade, as if it had dissipated into mist and nothing was left but the small patch of ground underneath her feet.

She strolled in to check on Daro. His large frame blocked her view of the food, but the smell awoke her hunger. He was a tall man, well-muscled and strong, his shoulder-length brown hair a little unruly, as always. He wore a dark green tunic with a long leather vest that belted at the waist, and loose brown pants tucked into thick leather boots. She stood in the doorway and watched as he carefully took an egg out of the basket and cracked it into a pan. Someone who did not know Daro might be surprised at his ability to handle something as fragile as an egg with such gentleness. His large hands appeared suited to swinging a sword, rather than handling a cooking utensil. But Cecily knew there was much more to the man she’d married than the muscles that knotted his arms and back, or his ability to do heavy lifting.