None who witnessed it were taken by aback when Janna’s mother stood side by side with Martel’s mother in the central plaza of the Village of Pristille to proclaim the binding of their two children. All who witnessed it were pleased when Janna and Martel confirmed their bands before the village elders twenty-one days later, Bess surely wasn’t.

She watched as her cousin Janna pushed the last flower into her hair and checked in the looking glass to see that it was well placed. It wasn’t, but Janna seemed pleased anyway so Bess held her tongue and resisted the urge to reach out and straighten it. Martel, the groom, wouldn’t note that it was askew any more than Janna did. Martel looked past much when it came to Bess’s cousin- love was like that, Bess guessed. At least she hoped that it was- she had never been in it to be sure of what it was like.

Martel had been able to hear their family’s history and accept that his future wife was wither just a little touched in the head or she was descended from a long line of secretly powerful people who had changed the course of their kingdom’s history many times through the generations. It was amazing that he loved her enough for the wedding to go forward- that he believed in her, in their love enough to stay with her- no matter which he believed of her (insanity or a strangely blessed family). Bess surely wouldn’t have believed the stories herself if she hadn’t known their great-grandmother Eva, who could know the thoughts of others by glancing in their directions for a moment. Sometimes Bess still faltered in her belief of the blessing bestowed on generations of her family.

Martel’s mother stepped into the house, strolled across its one large room and said, “The Chantress awaits, as does my son. Are you ready, Janna-sweet?” Martel and Janna had been sweeties since before they wore proper clothes and Martel’s mother, Brenna, had always called Janna “Janna-sweet”. Brenna was perhaps even more pleased with the match than Janna and Martel.

Janna smiled large and grand, white pearl teeth bright against the dusky red of her lips. “I would be ready had I neither dress nor flowers at all- so long as I was getting Martel for my husband.”

“Ah, my darling-girl, come and take my son from me, then.” Brenna put her hands out- one to Janna and the other to Bess. “Come now, Bess, you beauty. Let us get your cousin married and then we can see about finding a good man for you from among the guests who came from the other villages to eat their meals for free.”

Janna rose and took the offered hand. Bess followed suit and the three women went out to the central plaza of Pristille to happily seal Janna unto her beloved Martel.

***

Filiana adjusted her skirts again- hoping that shifting them just that much to the side might create a somehow more robust look- make her cheeks rosier, make her slim waist look fuller, make her flat bosom seem fuller. “Stop fussing, it makes you seem nervous- you don’t want the prince to think you nervous- nervous women don’t carry children well. They drop them early and they grow up sickly, if they grow up at all,” her father scolded.

“Yes, Father,” Filiana answered, wincing at his words- her mother who had died in childbirth had been a nervous woman- everyone said so. And Filiana had been quite ill for long stretches of her childhood. Her father hardly ever failed to remind her of how weak they both were- weak and all but useless. Filiana was hoping that the prince would like her- not so much so that she could live at the palace and play at being a princess, but just to get out from under her father’s roof and perhaps be able to play at being a capable woman.

Just then the big doors to the sitting room they had been waiting in rolled open with a whisper of reeds against wooden track and a tall, slender man with dark graying hair stepped into the room.

***

Talia pushed the tangle of her hair back over her shoulder and tried again. Sweat was rolling ticklishly down her back under her shirt. If she could just get the angle a little higher, she would have it this try. She steadied herself against the trunk of the tree, counted off and jumped…

As she strolled back into the village, a small satisfied smile gracing her lips, the old women scowled at her. “Talia, you demon child, what have you been up to that has gotten you so very dirty?” they asked. “When are you ever going to stop these foolish ways and be a good girl?” they asked. “Don’t you want the men to want you, you ugly thing?” they asked. But Talia didn’t answer because they didn’t know what she did. They didn’t know that she had a destiny and they didn’t know that she was really being a very good girl by doing the things she did and they didn’t know that having a husband was something she never really expected to be able to try for- she would likely be dead long before she could settle with a man and having babies was even less of a possibility. You couldn’t do battle with a great round baby-belly.

“You make it this time?” Callie asked Talia, falling into step with her. Callie was Talia’s closest friend and great ally- which was another thing that made the village women ask, “Why is pretty, pretty Callie wasting her time with that Talia?” and, “Doesn’t that sweet thing Callie know that her husband won’t let her talk to that crazy Talia once she’s married- why does she bother now?” and, “I wonder if that Talia is like that because she hopes to marry Callie? Talia might be crazy enough to think the Elders would let that happen.” But Callie never listens to them because she sees things they don’t. They don’t see how Talia, brutish and course as she seems, is the most gentle of souls out in the quiet of the forest. And they don’t see how Talia, unkempt and mannish as she seems, is the most beautiful of creatures when she swims, quick and eel-like through the streams at the foot of the southern cliffs that border the barbarian kingdom of Haridash. And they don’t see how Talia, all brawn and bravado as she seems, is the one who cries the longest and mourns the deepest on the days of commemoration- for she keeps her steady face through the ceremonies and retreats to the heat of the high plains sun so that it might dry her tears. They don’t see Talia, but Callie does.

She is still waiting for her friend to answer her question. It is a question that Callie has asked for six days in a row now, but it is just a variation on a question that she has asked Talia in some form or another for the last dozen years or so, “Did you make it this time?” or, “Were you fast enough this morning?” or, “Did you have enough strength to do it yet?” Sometimes Talia answers, “Yes,” and smiles broad and bright, but most days, like that day, she just keeps walking and Callie knows that her friend did not leap the length she wanted to between the trees and she would be returning to the same spot in the forest to try again the next morning.

“So,” Callie sort of hopped in front of her friend to walk backwards in front of her while they talked. “Has the herbalesi talked your mother into letting you study with her? Or are you still set against it?”

“Marmie thinks I should.” Talia stated with a grumpy pout, which turns almost immediately into a scowl- Talia didn’t like to pout- it seemed manipulative. “I don’t want to be the next village herbalesi, but Marmie is tired of telling Yavania no, so I think I’m going to have to do it for a little while. Maybe she’ll be able to teach me something about poisons and how to block them- that could be of use.”

“And who do you think you’ll be poisoning?” Callie inquired playfully.

“Never know. There might be someone,” she answered darkly. Callie knew better than to expect that sinister intention was aimed at her.

Just then, a tall, gangly boy with salt light hair and a scraggly mustache trying to grow on his face ran up and tugged at Talia’s long, dark hair before racing away again.

“Sammgitson!” Callie called after him. Talia gave a kind of a growl, but made no move to follow the boy. He wasn’t worth her time or effort- he was just a brat of a boy with no sense and too many people telling him Yes instead of No. “When are you going to pound him so he stops doing that?”

“I have more important things to do than try and school that boy- you can go ahead and do it yourself any time you want. But good luck with it- I doubt Sammgitson will learn no matter how many times he’s beaten down.”

Callie balked. “As if I could do something like that- I can’t go beating on a boy my mother would keep me from supper for a week if I did- not like yourn- she would give you extra helping to make sure you healed up faster, your mama would.”

“Still not worth the work of it- beating him down to have him and his Great-granddaddy whining about it for days or weeks, just to get an extra helping at supper. I could just ask for an extra helping- Marmie would give it to me if I just asked,” Talia reasoned.

They walked a little while through the village and up the hill to Talia’s mother’s small house. It was set apart from the village and had a large vegetable garden that covered most of the land on both sides of and the entire rear of the house. As they walked up the narrow dirt path- a little squishy from the rains of the night before, a few hens for eggs kerfuffled at being disturbed. The heavy wooden door- which was typical of the village of Pristille, but uncommon in most other country places- they mostly used heavy linen or canvas wrapped over light framing or even just curtains- the heavy wooden door creaked on its great hinges as they entered.

The cool darkness inside was a relief after the warmth of the morning. Janna, Talia’s mother, sat at the small table to the rear of the house, next to the fire. She was peeling sweet mawramas, thick longbeans and darkest blue potatoes for the evening’s stew and singing the child’s mourning song. Callie had seen her in just the same place doing just the same things so very often, that she didn’t think to wonder why the woman sang the song, although anyone from another village would have wondered, without doubt. Janna interrupted her song long enough to say, “Grind me some hwinda beans for this, Talia.”

“Aye, Marmie,” she responded and then went to the lidded wooden bucket in the corner to pull some of the aromatic beans from inside it. Callie got the mortar and pestle down from shelf and met her friend at the table. Talia ground the hwinda and Callie helped Janna by cutting the peeled vegetables and putting them in the waiting stewpot. As they worked, the girls let themselves fall into Janna’s rhythm, her song guiding them in the push of the pestle and the slice of the knives. In another minute, they were all softly singing the mourning song, the words too familiar to keep from joining in.

Chapter 1 – Bands

None who witnessed it were taken by aback when Janna’s mother stood side by side with Martel’s mother in the central plaza of the Village of Pristille to proclaim the binding of their two children. All who witnessed it were pleased when Janna and Martel confirmed their bands before the village elders twenty-one days later.

Bess and Calipian- Bess lived in the village at the time of the massacre. She, being Janna’s cousin knows the family history and agrees with Janna and Martel that Talia is likely the Afflicted one (afflicted with the gift/curse of communicating with the dead). Soon after the massacre, she makes the sacrifice (it really was sort of a relief to get away from so much death and grief) of leaving the village and getting a job at the palace so that she can be there when Talia fulfills the prophecy.

She finds love at the palace with a man who is not of her station. He is the advisor to the king, Calipian, and despite being high in the tyrant’s ranks, he is a good man. He spends much of his time mitigating the king’s tyrannical choices and he does what he can to spare as many as he can as often as he can. He is still almost a hated a figure as both Dravidian and Huntian. He never married, not wanting to leave his children to be cursed by his own sins, but he does love Bess against his better judgment. They are secretly married, but no one knows that he is the father of Bess’s two children- she has the reputation of being a loose woman because she has never named her children’s father(s). Calipian served Dravidian’s father but managed to convince the new tyrant king that he would be both loyal and useful to him. He was so grateful for surviving the regicide and coup he promised himself he would try to save those who Dravidian menaced.

Talia- everyone in Talia’s village knows that she is a girl, but that is only because being a first-born, she must be female to have lived through the massacre. She dresses and somewhat acts like a boy- Janna encourages this in case Talia needs to play the part of a boy/man to save the kingdom. She is gorgeous once she is cleaned up- dark and round-faced.

Talia’s gift is seeing and hearing spirits- they all talk to her. Many are angry and some want to hurt/scare her, but they can’t hurt her. She doesn’t get her gift until she is grown. She knows the family history, the village history, her father’s fate, too, but Janna never spelled out the expectation that Talia was the Afflicted spoken of in the prophecy. Of course, Talia is not stupid and she know how likely it is.

Talia pursues fighting and other useful hero-type skills on the more than even chance that she will be called upon to change the kingdom. This is more self-defense than dedication- she wants to live through it. She doesn’t actually expect to though. She’s a bit John Connor-ish.

She’s half in live with Callie but has long ago accepted that they would be miserable as anything other than best friends and Callie will be heartbroken enough when her best friend dies. It would be cruel and selfish of Talia to get closer to Callie. Callie has no idea of Talia’s family history or likely role as hero/martyr/Afflicted.

Talia crashes hard for Sammgitson once they begin to really talk and Sammgitson begins to see her and all women as consequential people. One moment he’s this annoying git and the next he’s irresistible (even more than Callie ever was) and standing unyielding at her side. This shift isn’t when he does something cool or dangerous or heroic or impressive- it is when he does something ordinary and humble and thoughtful without looking for recognition or reward.

Callie is Talia’s best friend and hers is one of the few families relatively untouched by the massacre- her father and grandfather are both second born, both of their older brothers dies before the massacre of other causes and Callie has no brothers. Callie is a great beauty and a carefree soul. She uses her beauty to disarm both men and women and often to defend those less attractive, socially acceptable or less fortunate than she is. Her father is the village’s leader.

She and Talia are friends from before anyone cared if they were pretty and seeing how people treat Talia for being unkempt and ugly and non-feminine-normative has really made it important to her for there to be change and she wants to punish that kind of behavior in people.

Sammit is and elder in the village- his family is foremost in his priorities. His son was killed in the massacre, as was his first grandson. He is determined to make a good match for his remaining grandson, however the girls of the village all despise the grandson for he is a bog old jerk who respects no one.

Sammgitson is a jerk- he was just a babe when his father and older brother were killed in the massacre. His mother and grandfather both spoil him rotten and while he defers to his grandfather (mostly because the old bastard could still take him) he treats his marm like trash. Since she takes it, Sammgitson expects all other women to take similar treatment. This is why Callie and Talia both dislike him. He has a long emotional journey to take during the story.

Huntian was the commander of the small fort a few miles East of Pristille. He was ambitious and very loyal to his king. Overseeing the massacre at Pristille, killing so many changes him- he regrets deeply, but he feels trapped by the deed- his name is forever linked to the massacre and he feels that the only way he can go on is to stay in the service of the king- he has to stay the course or he will be hated and without the protection and scarce company of his troops. He grows to hate the man he had become- guilt making him bitter. He also hates himself for his cowardice. He knows he should break with the king, but he is afraid not to have the support and protection and- possibly even more frightening- afraid to admit that he was wrong not to defy the king’s order to kill all those men and boys and infants.

Huntian also loves the delicate flower known as the Queen.

Filiana

The queen was swept off her feet by a young and brash Prince Dravidian. She was long sickly in her childhood but was restored to health just a few months before she met the prince. She knew little of the ways of the world due to being infirmed and coddled. Dravidian was like no one she had ever met and much of the attraction for her was the fact that he never knew her when she was ill. She also loved his energy and his confidence. She more than anyone believed in who he was and how he’d been wronged by his father, justifying the old king’s execution. The first year of their marriage was the best time of her life, but it drew to a close with no sign of a child and Dravidian grew cold to her. Her old health issues began to resurface as well. Then the prophecy was revealed and she spent the next 16 years being married to a man she loathed.

She is smitten with Huntian, having spent long weeks waiting out a war her husband was waging with the country to the East. Huntian was assigned to her personal guard- a stepping stone to his eventual leadership of the king’s guard. Huntian and Filiana spent long nights deep in their cups together and she came to know the man he wished he were. They never lay together, but that is the lone intimacy they denied themselves- they shared all of their secrets.

Many in the village, including Talia and her family are dark of skin.

The Palace of the Stars
The Palace lies in the North-East quadrant of the kingdom. It is the capitol city, but not the largest. Dravidian has spent much of his reign placing levies and taxes and such on the two larger cities trying to make the capitol larger and the “Two Pearls” (the two larger cities that both lie on the Northern coast) smaller. Yes he is that vain and worried about consolidation and maintaining and justifying his power.

Many in the palace, including Dravidian, but not Filiana are light of skin. Filiana is from a far country and is mediaum of skin and almond of eye.

The Two Pearls
These twin cities lie on the kingdom’s Northern coast on two large bays that are the only safe access to the king from the North. The two bays are a full week’s ride apart. The rest of the coast is rocky and unapproachable by ship. With the Capitol, the Two Pearls form the heart of the kingdom where most of the wealth and culture can be found.

The people of the Two Pearls are mostly dark of skin, but Dravidian has lords in place overseeing the cities who are light of skin.

Talia- Our Hera
Janna- Talia’s Mother
Martal- Talia’s Father
Callie- Talia’s Great Friend
Sownur- Village Elder
Turin- Sownur’s Son
Sammit- Turin’s Son
Various Other Villagers

In the Palace of the Stars

King Dravidian- a Tyrant
Queen Filiana- a Fragile Woman Who Proves Strong in the End
Calipian- High Advisor to the Emperor, a Good Man
Bess- Head Chambermaid, Janna’s Cousin
Huntian- Sergeant at Fort Nearest to Pristille, Later Dravidian’s Captain at Arms
Various Courtesans and Soldiers