Hennessy The Whisper of Dreams

1. Auflage 2014
ISBN: 978-1-908600-37-0
Verlag: Inspired Quill
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 0 - No protection

E-Book, Englisch, Band 2, 480 Seiten

Reihe: Queen of the World

Hundreds are dead at the hands of The Four.
Three months after the events of Leithar Grove, Tamir is a kingdom in fear. The people no longer trust Prince Remelas; his military ambitions are now public knowledge. So the Sons of Tamir, a nationalistic faction created within this atmosphere of betrayal, march on the capital to seek Remelas' abdication.
And still the rumours persist of a young girl who walked away, unharmed, from Leithar Grove that night. Crazed seers and prophets continue to preach of the Queen of the World. Sarene, accompanied by the huge woodsman Kanderil, journeys ever onwards in hope of finding shelter from the coming winter. Her family left behind, her brother dead, she finds herself increasingly isolated from a world becoming steadily more perilous.
Sarene refuses to believe what these nameless strangers say about her. Yet she must come face to face with the truth of what she is. What she represents.
 
And that truth will come at the highest cost.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Hennessy, Ben

Leseproben

Chapter One
Ethanei pushed at the door with a gloved hand. The tavern was lively even at this early hour; warmth and conversation washed over him. The drone of voices helped him to leave his issues in the street. He moved towards the bar and waited for the tavern keeper, a thin and wiry man named Ghural, to notice him. Leaning against the counter he scanned the crowd. About forty people filled the place – not a common occurrence on this side of the village. Every chair was filled and every table surrounded. He saw farmers, traders and merchants, some he’d grown up with and others he’d only seen for the last few years. Thorlen Tar was growing by the summer, and what had been a community of a few dozen families when he was born three decades previously had swelled into a populace of over eight hundred. The status of Tar had been bestowed on the township six years ago. Lord Tharesan, a direct descendant of Thorlen himself, was delighted at the increased prominence his title held. He’d thrown a feast in honour of the township, at which Ethanei had danced with his wife, Clarai, and watched the sunrise with her the next morning, sitting beneath their favourite tree and sharing his last ale. The memory brought back the image of Clarai’s legs wrapped around an old friend of his, and a fresh pang of self-pity took hold. He slapped his hand against the bar top. “Come on, Ghural! I’m dyin’ of thirst over ‘ere.” “Be with you in a minute,” the tavern owner called back without looking up, as he handed a flagon each to a pair of men he recognised as part of a group which had arrived that evening. They seemed polite, thanking Ghural for the service, but their eyes never stopped moving across the crowd. The rest of their band were commanding the broad table in the centre of the room. One of their number, a tall man who still wore his grey hood pulled up over his face, was leaning back to speak to two other men nearby. They laughed together at something he said. A tankard, sodden from being freshly dunked, slammed onto the counter before him. Ethanei looked up, realised what had happened, then started fishing in his pocket for coin. “There you go, you impatient bastard.” Ghural grinned. “I’ll add it to your tab.” With a chuckle, Ethanei left the coins where they were and reached for his drink. He lifted it, tipped, and swallowed a third of the contents in seconds before giving a long sigh. “Since when did you start givin’ tabs?” “Only for the regulars, like. I know you’re good for it.” “Much obliged.” He lifted the tankard, nodding across the room. “What’s the deal with the grey cloaks over there?” “Haven’t got the slightest. They’ve spoken to half the room, though. Seem a nice bunch.” Ghural nodded to a waiting punter, and stepped off towards the ale casket. “Maybe you can get a drink out of ’em,” he called over his shoulder. Ethanei smiled, taking another pull from his ale. The fresh delivery of alcohol was stirring up what he’d already consumed, and he could feel the dulling effects begin to soak into him again. He glanced across the tavern once more, searching for anyone he knew well enough who happened to have an empty seat next to them. He recognised several faces. Cullan, a man with a face only his mother could truly love, sat holding court with some of his hired season hands. A successful farmer who was careful with his money, Cullan had a reputation for telling stories and trying to charm ladies through words alone. It must have worked, for he had recently married a girl almost ten summers his junior who was pretty to boot. Ethanei smirked, catching a punch line of something involving a bolting horse. Those at Cullen’s table cackled and roared, applauding as the farmer took his seat again. Beyond them sat the local doctor. The cooper. Shaerer, a skilled carpenter he’d known since a boy, was wedged in between two of his eldest sons. Several more hired workers from the surrounding homesteads. A few who, like him, had been discharged from the army following Prince Remelas’s disarmament. One of these, a scary looking chap named Khellien, nodded to him. Ethanei raised his cup in response but, noting the lack of a nearby seat, remained where he was. Those he didn’t recognise ignored him but conversed happily with each other. The ale was flowing and the three barmaids, all daughters of Ghural, slipped and sidestepped between the clientele and the tables with practised ease, gathering empty cups and returning full ones. The eldest and prettiest, Helaina, was working double duty as the waitress. She occasionally disappeared into the back area before returning with plates of food. The dishes were simple in the Duck and Well – mainly cold cuts of meat with bread and cheese – but the cook did a decent mutton stew, and the smell of it mingled with alcohol and people. The crowd itself had a distinctive scent, as men stopped by here straight from their jobs. Watching Helaina move over to the far corner of the room, where a small booth was tucked against the wall, he saw a spare seat. Helaina handed two plates to those already seated there. They were both hooded. One was slight and wore a deep mauve cloak, her mannerisms and small hands suggesting a young girl, though with her back to the room he couldn’t be certain. Opposite her was a hulking brute of a man, a prominent beard visible from beneath the thick cowl he wore. He took the plate, tiny in his giant hand, and gave no sign of gratitude. Helaina moved away, leaving them to eat. “Another one, my friend!” Ethanei called aloud, before downing the rest of his drink. He wanted a seat, and there was no reason why he couldn’t take the free one he’d spotted. The atmosphere was lively and welcoming, and he could be charming enough when he needed to be. Once Ghural had taken his tankard and dunked it, he moved across the room. Drips of golden yellow liquid dotted his path, and he managed to keep himself stable as he passed through the crowd. He exchanged brief greetings with Khellien, clasping him on the shoulder and cracking a quick joke. His eyes met with one of the grey cloaked men, who nodded to him. Ethanei responded in kind. Reaching the booth, Ethanei raised his tankard in greeting. A small amount spilt from the rim but, luckily, landed on his trouser leg rather than on the table. The mauve-cloaked youngster – definitely a girl – offered him a courteous smile. The man with her continued eating. “Evening, folks,” Ethanei said. “I notice there’s an empty space here, and I was wonderin’ if I could put meself down for a while?” The girl looked at her companion. The man finished chewing before digging his fork back into his stew. “No.” Ethanei laughed. “Come on, friend. There’s no need to be rude. I’m simply looking for somewhere to rest me bones for a while.” “There are plenty of other chairs in the room,” the man replied, lifting a piece of mutton to his mouth. “Aye, but they’re all taken. I don’t mean to impose, but I would truly appreciate the chance to sit with you until another seat’s free.” He grinned, gesturing to the space on the bench making up the booth. “I’d carry it away but it appears to come as a package. I doubt I could pull you along with me.” The girl brought her hand to her mouth, covering a smile. Her huge companion regarded him for the first time, chewing. The revealed eyes were hard. Ethanei brought his tankard to his lips to cover his faltering smile. Eventually the man exchanged looks with the girl. She nodded cautiously at him. “Fine,” he said. “Go ahead.” “Much obliged,” said Ethanei. He made to sit himself next to the girl, noting the greater space afforded there. The man spoke again, dipping a piece of bread around the bottom of his bowl. “Next to me.” Pausing, half crouched, Ethanei smiled once more. “O’course. Wouldn’t want to seem rude, eh. Name’s Ethanei.” He slid across the edge of the table and sat on the bench next to the man, who paid him no attention. The situation struck him as quite unusual, and he chuckled. The ale was really starting to hit him again and he placed his hands on the table to prop himself up, straightening his back. “So what brings you both to Thorlen?” Ethanei waved a gloved hand across his face before speaking again. “Sorry. Thorlen Tar. Keep forgetting that. Wait…” Fixing a stare on the massive stranger, he leaned forward. “Do I know you?” The man pushed his bowl to the side before wiping his mouth between thick fingers. He reached for his own ale. “Just passing through.” “Oh right. That’s a shame. Quite a nice town, this is. Growing by the year.” Ethanei gestured over his shoulder with a thumb. “See this? Everyone ‘ere talking and laughing. Ale flowing. It’s a sense of community, y’know? Even with new faces migrating by the season, we’ve kept that community. Its togetherness.” He slurred the final syllables, but made up for it with a proud grin. He saw the girl smile in kind. “Seems so,” was all the man had to say, sipping his drink. “I mean, back when I were a lad, this village had maybe a hundred yards of buildings surrounded by fields. I used to be able to walk for ‘ours, exploring, and feel like I were the only person in the world. You know that feelin’, my friend?” The man grunted. “I believe I can understand.” “Well, that’s good.” Ethanei took a long pull from his ale to gather his thread. “But aye, that was then. Nowadays there’s...