Total pages in book: 208
Estimated words: 209645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1048(@200wpm)___ 839(@250wpm)___ 699(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 209645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1048(@200wpm)___ 839(@250wpm)___ 699(@300wpm)
Perhaps worried was.
Serena had not demonstrated the traits needed to lead a realm. She was quick-tempered and vengeful and often would allow emotions to color her thinking, and her actions.
It was thought by a fair few that Elena would be an even better queen than Ophelia, and Ophelia held much respect from her sisters.
However, there was not a great deal of warmth to Ophelia.
She was not officious, though she was often remote.
She was also level-headed, introspective, diplomatic, loyal and fair.
But she was not warm.
So the loss of Elena to Airen was worrisome, not only that one of their own would be forced to live in the land of their enemy.
But that the Sisterhood would lose the woman who should be queen.
More happened that night that surprised the Sisterhood.
There had been laughter in Elena’s treehome that evening, and the anomalous sound of the deep tones of a masculine voice.
The same could be heard in Jasmine’s treehome, until other sounds were heard.
And the same could be heard in the queen’s treehome, where the last Airenzian lieutenant had been quartered, as if the queen sat at her leisure to have a chat with an Airenzian soldier.
It was most clear that Elena did not seem put off by her intended.
Indeed, as they walked from the queen’s residence to Elena’s, they’d been seen holding hands.
The Sisterhood did not know what to think of any of this.
They were all trained in the art of war. Even those who did not have the inclination for it, from a young age, were required to learn basic skills with staff, daggers, bow and arrow, sword and hand-to-hand combat.
They were also all trained in witchcraft.
This requirement was much more strictly enforced. Even those who did not show talent with a spell, a potion, scrying, astral travel or the like were obliged to practice what they could and attempt to better what they lacked.
But for the most part, a woman was free to do what she wished, as long as it strengthened the Sisterhood.
Be it fighting.
Or patrolling.
Or training.
Or teaching.
Or healing.
Or weaving baskets or concocting lotions or elixirs or stitching tapestries or knitting blankets or jumpers to sell at Dellish markets to trade for things needed in The Enchantments or to gather coin for the same.
It was for the most part a social community, duties were paid by those who earned so those who fought or patrolled, trained, taught or healed were remunerated for their efforts on behalf of the Sisterhood.
Although this had worked for centuries, the Nadirii were not a nation without troubles.
There were those (albeit they were few) who were lazy, and the others looked down on them.
There were those who wished for more aggression against the male aggressors, there were those who wished for less.
There were those who did not much like the many refugees they took in, there were those who were happy for greater numbers to strengthen the Sisterhood or felt it was their duty as Nadirii to welcome any woman into their company.
There were those who intensely detested all males and wished nothing to do with them. There were those who often journeyed out of The Enchantments to seek male company, or to meet long-time lovers, or simply because they enjoyed a variety of companionship.
But all, being in touch with the magical veil, knew that the quakes were a bad omen.
And in an uncertain situation, you needed strong leadership to guide the way.
Ophelia was wasting.
Serena was problematic.
Elena seemed to be lost to them.
And now, Prince Cassius (and his men) appeared to be full of surprises.
And not bad ones.
But in all, the only thing that was known was the Sisterhood had no clear leader for the future.
So, no.
As the talk wore on well into the night their princess returned, the Nadirii did not know what to make of any of this.
They didn’t know at all.
66
The Trick
Melisse of the Nadirii Sisterhood
Some Ways South of Notting Thicket
WODELL
She was getting nowhere and seeing nothing.
This was not right.
She had naught of his, of course.
The path would be far easier to see if she did.
Thus, now she had only her magic and the knowledge he’d been to Notting Thicket a number of times, therefore he spent much time in or around the Go’Doan temple there, as well as being invited to Birchlire Castle.
So she had taken up a variety of pebbles she found in both places, cast over them, and followed where they led.
But she was far out of the city.
Quite far.
Every time she stopped to toss a pebble, she followed the direction it pointed to her, but she felt nothing more, saw nothing more, not a hint he’d been there recently.
The sun was getting low. Shadows were claiming the forest. Night would fall fully soon.
Melisse needed to make camp.
Even so, she stopped her horse, swung off and pulled a pebble out of the pouch at her belt, just to make sure she was on the right track.