The Blood Heart of Teleck
94 pages
English

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94 pages
English

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Description

Dauyra is finally 17 today. Her birthday but more important, her Day of Sanctum. Every girl waits for this day to celebrate her passage to be recognized as a woman. Dauyras’ 3 best friends Jesina, Sorcha and Havena will be with her to celebrate her special day. Unknown to them, it won’t happen. The bond between them will give them the strength together to stand against the worst evil their country has ever faced. They will sacrifice everything to protect their homes and families. Their connections with the mystical creatures of the Moors will change them all forever. Each girl finds their own inner strength, power and faith. Faith in themselves and an unbreakable faith in each other.
The battle against King Lucithorne and his elite guard will be the test of their lives. It’s time to stop the murder, sacrifice and heartbreak.
They must have victory.

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Informations

Publié par
Date de parution 08 novembre 2022
Nombre de lectures 0
EAN13 9781665571357
Langue English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0200€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

The Blood Heart of Teleck
 
 
 
 
 
Ellen M. Marr
 
 
 

 
AuthorHouse™
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.authorhouse.com
Phone: 833-262-8899
 
 
 
© 2022 Ellen M. Marr. All rights reserved.
 
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.
 
Published by AuthorHouse 11/02/2022
 
ISBN: 978-1-6655-7136-4 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-6655-7135-7 (e)
 
 
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.
 
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
Contents
1.Dauyra
2.Jesina
3.Havena
4.Sorcha
5.Dauyra
6.Jesina
7.Havena
8.Sorcha
9.Dauyra
10.Jesina
11.Havena
12.Sorcha
13.Dauyra
14.Jesina
15.Havena
16.Sorcha
17.Dauyra
18.Jesina
19.Havena
20.Sorcha
21.Dauyra
22.Jesina
23.Havena
24.Sorcha
25.Dauyra
26.Jesina
27.Havena
28.Sorcha
29.Dauyra
30.Jesina
31.Havena
32.Sorcha
33.Coming Home
34.Dauyra
35.Jesina
36.Havena
37.Sorcha
38.Dauyra
39.Jesina
40.Havena, Jesina and Sorcha
41.Dauyra
42.Warriors
43.Dauyra

1 Dauyra
D auyra was born in Brackenmore, a beautiful, peaceful village nestled between the mighty River Noom and the mystical moors. An endless flow of crystal-clear water thundered down from the mountains filling the river. All life was connected to the river, which provided nature’s bounty. Its plentiful fish were the main source of food for the town. Scads of small creatures, dergo, and even the occasional borzak would drink from it. Many creatures in turn became Dauyra’s prey.
On this morning, the sun was brighter and warmer and the wildflowers near the river smelled sweeter than usual. Was Dauyra just more aware because she was happy to finally be turning seventeen, or were her senses becoming more acute?
She leaned against a moss-covered rock and looked at her bracelet shining in the sun. Sadly, memories of her brother, Core, came to her. He had commissioned a silversmith to design and forge it for her. It was a thick, hammered, silver band widening in the middle with a D stamped in the center. It was her greatest treasure. Core, two years older than her, was her compass, her foundation. He was very good looking even at a young age, and the girls would make such a fuss just to get his attention. He didn’t take them seriously, though; he had eyes for only one girl. But he never got the chance to tell her before he was abducted.
Dauyra remembered the day Lucithorne’s guards came to town searching for the boys who would become his strong, fearless warriors. They raided Brackenmore and other towns every other year. Some parents tried to hide their sons in the woods or in the caves along the Noom, but they never succeeded. When they were caught, the boys were forced to witness the murder of their families and then dragged and thrown into cages like animals. Lucithorne was not a man and certainly not a king. He was ruthless and never showed mercy. Dauyra had tried to get out of her father’s arms that heartbreaking day, but it was no use. He held her fast so she couldn’t run after her brother. The army would cut her down, and Tylord would lose both his children. He swore he would find his son and bring him home. But he never did.
Coming back to the present, Dauyra slid silently from behind her advantage point. She spotted a dergo approaching the river cautiously and dropping its head to drink. They were skittish animals but easy targets. Dauyra was the best female hunter in the village, and her skills and patience almost always guaranteed a kill. She quietly brought her bow and arrow up and aimed. Her athletic arms were steady and strong from years of practice and necessity. The day would be a double celebration with her birthday and a dergo to add to the sanctum feast.
Calm and sure, she pulled her bowstring back and released it. The arrow whistled through the air and cleanly hit its mark. The unaware dergo fell. Dauyra moved quickly. She wasn’t the only predator out there, and she definitely didn’t want to run into the mammoth-sized borzak. One could take down a dergo with a swipe of its deadly paws, and its claws were as sharp as Dauyra’s blades.
Swinging her bow over her tanned shoulder, she stepped from behind her cover. Her skin glowed from days in the sun. As she walked, her lush, auburn hair came undone from the leather ribbon her mother had given her. She loved her mane except when hunting; then, it was a nuisance. Dauyra was a beauty—tall and strong but feminine. Braiding her hair quickly, she made her way to the river’s edge to claim her prize.
Whistling, she summoned her two faithful wolex. They would drag the dergo home for her. Verex and Hundra came crashing through the brush from their hiding place. Dauyra had trained them to be silent while she was hunting, a very difficult task for wolex since they were driven by blood. They were fierce creatures, but Dauyra loved them, her loyal companions and protectors. Nothing could get close to her when they were around, and it was their job to always be around.
She had found them one day while hunting. They had stayed beside their dead mother, frightened and hungry. Dauyra didn’t know how long they had been alone, but judging by the smell and decay of their mother, it had been a few days. The claw marks on the carcass told her that a borzak had killed her. They were the only creatures strong and stupid enough to take on a wolex.
Without hesitation, Dauyra had stuck them in her bag, brought them home, and hid them in the back shed away from humans. They were cute pups crying for their mother. Every day, they grew bigger, stronger, and more ravenous. Dauyra had to steal goat milk from her family flock and feed them through a makeshift bottle made of animal hide.
She had taught them to hunt so that they wouldn’t start eating her family’s goats. She trained them in secret because wolex were not compatible with humans and would be killed on sight if seen in the village. Both were as black as night with ghostly green eyes. They grew into powerful, muscular, and deadly hunters. Verex was the female, slightly smaller than her brother, Hundra, but was just as keen and cunning. Hundra had a presence—majestic, proud, and bigger every day.
Hundra and Verex met Dauyra at the kill. They knew they would be handsomely fed after they pulled the dergo home. They knew their jobs well. They danced around like they were pups again waiting for Dauyra to tie the carcass to the drag cloth. Securing the harnesses to her wolex, she attached the drag cloth carrying the bloody dergo. Hundra always drooled when fresh meat was available. That day was no exception. He wasn’t pretty at the best of times, and there was gobs of saliva dripping from his jowls. It was time to journey home.
“You are my spirit protectors who always know my needs and keep me from harm. I’ll always be your companion. I’ll never be your master.” Dauyra patted their heads, which were becoming higher seemingly every day. “Let’s go home.”
Dauyra was content as they turned west toward Brackenmore. With her strong legs, she kept up with the wolex. If they broke into a run, she would be left behind, but she knew they would never leave her. Their bond was for life.
What a great day this is turning out to be . Her thoughts drifted to the celebration that evening. She was seventeen that day, and it was her turn to be blessed into sanctum. Her daydreaming was broken when she heard a branch crack in the distance. Turning toward the sound, she realized it was quite a a way off. How did I hear that? she wondered.
Hundra and Verex didn’t react; they kept moving west homeward bound.
Dauyra shrugged it off and followed them.

2 Jesina
J esina saw Dauyra walking proudly down the stone road followed by two ravenous wolex. The village was buzzing with excitement as decorations were being hung in the square for Dauyra’s birthday and sanctum celebration. She would be recognized as a woman in Brackenmore and could marry if a man were to ask. But there were no eligible men around. Lucithorne had stolen them all. It was unlikely she would ever find love.
Jesina was the first to run to Dauyra. They had been together since birth. Dauyra’s mother Aife, and Jesina’s mother, Moraug were long-standing friends. Jesina and Dauyra had been born a month apart, which had brought their mothers much joy. Jesina would be seventeen in a month and three days and couldn’t wait. It would be another day of celebration for the village, a time of happiness, joy, and sharing in the town’s many blessings. But they knew that Lucithorne and his army would be coming soon and that any happiness would vanish.
Jesina’s long, silky, raven hair and topaz eyes gave her a unique beauty. She carried herself like a fluttersnipe—graceful, beautiful, and deadly. Everyone perceived her as a shy, withdrawn girl who never spoke up for herself and especially when the boys would tease her.
Melnic, one village boy, learned the hard way not to push Jesina around when he picked on her one afternoon. He ran up behind her, pulled her beautiful hair, and tripped her causing

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