So here's a little section from the upcoming Wildlanders' Woman. I know originally I was going to call it Wildlanders' Woman Book 1: Ava, but the way the story is progressing, I've decided it would be inaccurate to name each book after the main female character. Ava's story will continue through the next few novels. So I'm going to call the first book Wildlanders' Woman, First Novel of the Wildlanders. I'll release the cover later this week.
Anyhow, I'm in the final edits for Ava's story, and here's a sneak peek of a section I rather like from about two-thirds of the way through the book.
Jodah woke in the dark hours of the night, wondering what
felt wrong. It took him only a moment to realize that his arm lay over empty
bed, not soft woman, and when he opened his eyes, he saw Blaise’s ugly mug, not
the beauty of his bride.
He crossed to the doorway on silent feet, passing the
smaller bed, where Killian and Daven slept, curled together like pups. Looking
down at the peaceful, sleeping faces, he felt a rush of affection.
In the main room, their new bride sat on a cushion, staring
into the darkened gel-fire pit. A single lantern, left on through the night as
always, provided the only light.
Jodah took the seat next to her. “What ye thinking?”
She offered him a brief smile. “It’s fine.”
“I knows that’s not true.”
“No, it isn’t.” She stared at the darkened firepit a while
longer, hugging her knees to her chest. Finally, she said, “this is your life,
isn’t it?”
“Eh?”
“This… the Dark Ones, the fighting, people dying… that’s how
it is in the Wildlands.”
“Aye. We’ve known nothing else.” Jodah knew that the Soft
folk didn’t live in a world where they worried about violence or weapons. He
knew many Softfoot men went through life without ever lifting a sword. He
couldn’t imagine it.
“None of them realize, you know. I mean, we’re aware that
there are Wildlanders, and that we need them because of the Dark Ones, but it’s
not real. Especially for girls, we think about Wildlanders and all we can do is
worry that we might end up as a Tribute. Nobody thinks about what you actually
have to do.”
“Is just what we do. What we’ve always done.” Jodah took her
hand. “Blaise and Killian, their fathers died fighting a deragon… that’s a
flying beast that can sometimes breathe fire. Just sometimes, though. The
fire-breathers, they does it all the time. Anyhow, Barrowen, their mam, she
couldn’t take the grief and died not too long after.”
Ava’s face was solemn. “How old were they?”
“Blaise, twenty-four. Killian was but seventeen.”
“And their mother really died of grief?”
“Happens sometimes. It’s the bonding… our seed in ye. Our
bodies get in tuned with each other, start needin’ each other. It’ll come with
you too, after a while. Even when you’re mad at us you’ll need us.”
Ava cringed, but she nodded slowly. “People have said
something about that. It seems rather cruel in one way, but good in another. I
suppose it makes for closer families… less problems?”
Jodah shrugged. “We’se people, aren’t we? Everyone has
problems. But Wildlanders, we all grows up like this, so we knows how it works.
Your Clan is your life. Ye works for them, lives for them, dies for them. So
when ye choose, ye chooses carefully, because once you’re in, there’s no way
out.”
“Did you?”
He could pretend he didn’t know what she meant, but he knew
it was good she asked him questions. “Me, I wasn’t happy about Daven and
Killian. Blaise and me, we grows up best friends, close as brothers, and we
learns to be warriors together. I always knows we’d Clan. I figured it would
just be us, or maybe Tamun too. But he started his own.”
“Why don’t you like Daven and Killian?”
Jodah shifted uncomfortably. “I loves them now. They bring
sore-needed laughter. But me and Blaise, we mostly fucks women.”
“But that warrior at the ceremony, and
with Daven in the bedchamber that day….”
“Aye. Everyone does that from time to time, just for release
sake. But if I gets to choose, I usually chooses a woman. And Blaise… last few
years, he won’t touch a cock but his own. The boys, though… they loves each
other.”
“I know.” Ava smiled, something dreamy drifting through her
eyes. “It’s quite beautiful.”
“It is. But it’s not easy, in a Clan, where it’s like that,
some one way, some another. And Daven was such a merry little prankster, drove
me half mad at first. Killian I thought too soft, too gentle, like a babe in
need of protection, and I thought he should act more like a man.”
As he spoke, he wondered if she’d take offense to his words.
But she simply listened. “Why did you stay in the Clan, then?”
“Blaise,” he said simply. “He’s a fine leader, the best I
know. And my closest friend. We’se like two halves of a whole. I don’t wants to
be without him, so I agree to take on the other two. And over time, I comes to
love them. Daven, for all his jokes, is a fine hunter. Keeps us well-fed, and
always has enough extra to give and to trade. And for all the times I comes
home with scrapes and cuts from fighting the Dark Ones… well, is nice to have a
healer in the Clan.”
“You all have a place.”
“Aye.” Pain bloomed in Jodah’s throat. Magon and Garock had
had a place, both in the community and with one another. He’d spent many hours
with Magon, sharpening his skill with the longsword.
Ava suddenly crawled up onto his lap, wrapping her arms
round him. “It’s all right to be sad,” she whispered. “I know they were your
friends.”
Jodah struggled to speak past the pain swelling in his throat. “It happens, over and over, but it gets no
easier. I sees a lot of death, little one, and each one kills me a bit inside.”
“Yes.” Ava stroked his head. “You’re not just yourselves…
this place, this Clan… all of you are a part of one another, too. It’s different.
I’ve never been a part of anything… I mean, I had a family, and it hurt to lose
them, but I always thought that I’d feel like I… belonged once I was married,
you know? That’s when I’d have my real place. I’d belong to my husband. But
then this happened… and I see all of you here… you all belong to each other.”
Jodah hugged her tightly, desperate to sink into her warmth
and her softness, desperate for a glimpse of light in the dark pain of his
world. “Ye belongs here,” he rasped. “Ye belongs to me and Blaise and Daven and
Killian. Ye belongs to this Clan, in
this Clan, and ye belonsg in this circle. This is your place. With us. Ye belongs
to us, and we belongs to ye.”
Sniffling, Ava traced her fingers along his hairline, across
the deep scars that marred his flesh. “Yes. I think I’m starting to see that.”
Jodah smiled even as the first sob ripped free, harsh and
primitive. In the way of men, he did not like to weep. But as a warrior who had
faced much loss, he knew it was necessary for the soul. He had to release some
of the pain, or it would infect and destroy him. He clutched his bride close
and let the cries wrench from his heart, and let his tears mingle with hers.
