Colin Taber [Ossard Trilogy The Fall of Ossard (epub)

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.With a thick voice, I yelled, “He’s above you! He’s taking him!” but she couldn’t hear me.I was just too far away.She rushed for the stairs.My excellent vision faded, returning to the mundane.Sobbing, I dropped my tear soaked face into my hands.Caught in my own grief, I didn’t hear the hurried footfalls on the stairs leading to my room.The door burst open behind me.My mother charged in, Sef, of course, was right behind her.They’d heard my yelling.She ran to me looking for any sign of what was wrong.Finally, as only a mother can, she took me into her arms.Grateful, I took my hands away from my face.Her supportive sounds died as her eyes filled with horror.Behind her, Sef took a step back in surprise.What was wrong?She reached for my cheeks with hesitant hands.“Oh Juvela!” With trembling fingers she wiped at my tears - they came away bloodied.She whispered, “Just like your grandmother!”And that is how it began.2The Mint LadiesI tried to forget the dark happenings of the previous week by losing myself in the preparations for my coming-of-age.It didn’t work.Nothing relieved the sense of guilt that haunted me.I just kept seeing that poor boy’s innocent but deathly face.I’d witnessed one of the child thefts, and the true nature of the crime; its link to magic was as much a problem as the abduction itself.Simply, I’d seen something I should’ve been blind to.To report it would incriminate myself.The Inquisition might be forbidden to enter Ossard, but the Church could easily arrange my arrest and send me to them.I had to be careful.Such an arrest and consequent journey to the Holy City of Baimiopia wouldn’t end well, particularly for a young woman, and even more so for a lonely Flet.Mother demanded that I say nothing - and damn the stolen boy!As a reward for my grudging agreement, she finally offered to explain something else; my bloody tears were a sign of my own awakening.She then made me vow never to speak of it again.It was a vow I couldn’t keep.Two days later, I asked her about what she’d said regarding my grandmother.She snapped at me and reminded me of my vow.Her anger came fiery and quick, but it wasn’t built of fury, instead it was founded on terror.I am not and never have been stupid, even for a girl forced to suffer an education of little more than grooming, appropriate conversation, and how to smile without showing too much red lip or teeth.I suspected that my long-dead grandmother had also held an affinity for the forbidden arts, but confirming that wasn’t going to be easy.Certainly, it was something that would take time, and that meant it would have to wait until after my traditional outing for my coming-of-age.Ossard crowded at the Cassaro River’s mouth, the river’s waters passing through the city after snaking along the valley that stretched out to the east.Its chill flow ran for days through the rugged Northcountry, marked on its way by rapids, waterfalls, and a wild and icy source up amongst the interior’s snow-capped peaks.Those mountains rose up not just inland, but all about the Northcountry.They were dotted with exhausted silver mines - the same mines that had long ago fuelled the city’s growth.Today, they hosted the miners’ graves, along with gangs of bandits, and a thick spread of impoverished farming hamlets.Once the Northcountry had built Ossard, now it fed it.And just as the land had once brought riches to the city, now the sea likewise delivered.Its deep grey waters, Ossard’s lifeline, brought food, trade, and on occasion even refugees.The Flets, my people…My family and I are descendants of refugees, from the thousands upon thousands who fled a war waged against our people by the Lae Velsanans two centuries before.Those dark days, Def Turtung, The Killing, lay behind our people, but far from forgotten.We Flets are proud survivors of such catastrophe.In truth, if such calamities were omitted from our history little else would remain.Today, the Flets of Ossard met passing Lae Velsanans with animosity and distrust, but preferably not at all.In such a climate, violence between our two peoples wasn’t unknown.Myself, I’d never seen any blood spilt in the feud, but for that matter I’d never even seen a Lae Velsanan in the flesh.I’d been told that they looked like us, but stood taller, leaner, and, it was grudgingly admitted, finer.I found it hard to picture such beings as Flet-hating beasts.Since arriving in Ossard, our family’s bloodline had mixed on occasion with our more numerous Heletian hosts, but our roots remained obvious - as they did for one third of the city.My family, with its blonde and blue-eyed Flet heritage, had never been able to climb above the rank of a relatively successful mercantile family, even with a good portion of luck.As I grew older, I realised that my birth had marked the end of that good fortune.My mother had suffered a terrible labour delivering me, something that had threatened her life, savaged her health, and brought bloody ruin to her womb.My parents needed sons, not a solitary daughter.Even before I’d taken my first breath I’d failed them.Despite the disappointment of having only one child, and a daughter at that, our household was still full of love.Our family stood as one of the most successful within the Flet community, we had not only wealth, but also respect - being generous benefactors to the Flet Guild.Due to our family’s well-known civic nature, we even shared some goodwill from the Heletians, but in the end, to them at least, we were still Flets.Growing up in a place where one’s people are victimised can be a cruel experience, but also builds character.As my coming of age approached, and with the lotus warming me to the idea, I became determined to catch a man’s eye that would help my parents.Simply, I had to marry a Heletian, specifically the son of a powerful family or a wealthy widower.In Ossard, coming of age happened on a young man or woman’s seventeenth birthday - a year late compared to most Heletian League states.As with so many things, Ossard was slightly out of step with the rest of the League, partly due to its Flets, but also because of its isolation.Regardless, when the day came I was ready.At seventeen I stood slightly above average height with long arms and legs, all of it topped by blue eyes and wavy blonde hair.It was often said I had been blessed with the attractive looks of my mother.Politeness is double-edged.It’s true that my skin lay smooth and unblemished, but it’s also true that my face hung only neat and plain on an unremarkable frame.At the time I hoped it would grow into something worthy of the compliments.It never did.It was the day of my first outing, an Ossard tradition at a young lady’s coming of age.In essence, I would be dressed up, reminded of my manners, and then put on show with a chaperone.An outing’s new lady was referred to as a Mint Lady, meaning fresh.Wearing a new dress gifted to me by my proud parents, I was to be escorted out by a young group led by a distant cousin.On that sunny afternoon, my father and beaming mother saw our two open-topped coaches off at the door with Sef.My father had arranged for us to go to a fine establishment that overlooked the sea north of the main port.The venue, Rosa Sorrenta’s, was the place for the young of the Heletian upper ranks to be seen.In all, it was an outing someone such as myself should aspire to, but never too seriously expect to achieve [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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