Return of the Maca (Chronicles of the Maca Book 4) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1: The Kenning Woman Speaks

  Chapter 2: A Reprieve

  Chapter 3: The Stumble

  Chapter 4: The Handmaiden

  Chapter 5: The Justine Refuge

  Chapter 6: The Maca of Don

  Chapter 7: The Blind-Eyed One

  Chapter 8: The Treaty

  Chapter 9: Restoration Delayed

  Chapter 10: Rescue

  Chapter 11: The Sisterhood Regroups

  Chapter 12: House of Don

  Chapter 13: Directors Meeting

  Chapter 14: Restoration Begins

  Chapter 15: Trade and Other Issues

  Chapter 16: Missed Opportunities

  Chapter 17: Signing Day

  Chapter 18: Council of the Realm

  Chapter 19: The Naming

  Chapter 20: The Sea Ab

  Chapter 21: The Toy

  Chapter 22: Frustration

  Chapter 23: Fither and Son

  Chapter 24: Beltayne

  Chapter 25: Thwarted

  Chapter 26: LouElla

  Chapter 27: The Exchange

  Chapter 28: Rules of Trade

  Chapter 29: Found

  Chapter 30: Rumor Confirmed

  Chapter 31: Raid

  Chapter 32: The New Guardian

  Chapter 33: The Maca's Call

  Chapter 34: The Tunnel

  Chapter 35: Daniel Is Missing

  Chapter 36: The Hunt

  Chapter 37: The Ab Land

  Chapter 38: Lies Reputed

  Chapter 39: Flight

  Chapter 40: The Scout

  Chapter 41: LouElla's Town

  Chapter 42: The Hearing

  Chapter 43: The Houses and the Sisterhood

  Chapter 44: The Zark Station

  Chapter 45: The Ride to Donnick

  Chapter 46: Plans

  Chapter 47: Underground

  Chapter 48: The Battle for Donnick

  Chapter 49: The Debt

  Chapter 50: Cultures

  Chapter 51: Aftermath

  Glossary

  About the Author

  Return of the Maca

  Chronicles of the Maca IV

  Mari Collier

  Copyright (C) 2015 Mari Collier

  Layout Copyright (C) 2015 by Creativia

  Published 2015 by Creativia

  eBook design by Creativia (www.creativia.org)

  Cover art by http://www.thecovercollection.com/

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author's permission.

  http://www.maricollier.com/

  To the Reader: The lilting speech of the Thalians is not Scottish. Their words are similar, but do not necessarily mean the same thing. They use the letter T before words like is, was, would, were, etc. so that the sound is tis, twas, twould, twere. You is pronounced “ye,” and your as “yere.” All of these sounds are alien to our ears. Their speech is used once in a short section. To avoid confusion, I have kept the accents to a minimum and included a Glossary.

  Chapter 1: The Kenning Woman Speaks

  The Ab woman, Di, stood between the merchant stalls located close to the waterfront's walkways and piers in the city of Bretta. Her massive fists were clenched and her eyes a vacant stare. The wind tore at her long, thick, chestnut-brown hair. Her short, brown kirtle flapped against the muscled thighs. Her body quivered while her mouth drew in and blew out air in short, quick gasps. At first some in the crowd had jostled against her, but others backed away, unsure of what held that magnificent Thalian body enthralled. Soon members of the Sisterhood in their black warrior uniforms, Abs in their brown garments, the Tris of Betron in their light green summer outfits, and Krepyons (derogatorily called Kreppies) in their green uniforms gathered around her. A sturdy man child of about five held onto her left leg and looked upward. He was shaking her leg to draw her attention, but nothing could break her concentration. Finally she turned to the crowd, her eyes cleared, and she pointed to the people directly in front of her.

  “Thalians, Abs, Tris, people of the Houses, and Krepyons listen to me. I am the Kenning Woman, and I have a message.” Her voice was as strong as her body, and it rolled over the crowd.

  “Llewellyn, Maca of Don, will return. With him comes his laddie, the blind-eyed Laird of Don. Together they will restore Don and their House will be alive with new people. The false prophet will be destroyed. Beauty, Counselor of the Realm, will be forced to honor her debt to him.”

  Her voice rose as she pointed a finger at one from each group standing before her. “The Tris will supplant the Abs, and the Sisterhood is doomed.

  “Ye Krepyons will rue the day ye stripped Thalia of her wealth for ye will be crushed like the chalk from the cliffs of your planet. The Justines will rule no more, and LouElla will be avenged!”

  She stooped, picked up the wee laddie and strode through the hissing Abs, the growling Kreppies, and the smiling Tris, her long legs eating away at the tarmac. A desire to hide and sleep overrode any desire to explain away her outburst. What madness had possessed her? There was no Kenning Woman for the broken land of Thalia; none for almost eighty years. She was Di, the magnificent Ab, once the Handmaiden to Martin. Now she had damned Martin as the False Prophet and there would be retribution from that bitter, aging man. She hugged Wee Da closer.

  “Ye must go to the Laird of Don when he comes,” she whispered to him. “He will be your fither and your protector.”

  Di knew she must find Is. He would guard them while she slept. She unlimbered her legs and began to run. She disappeared from view among the broken storefronts of what once was the proud city of Bretta on the continent of Betron.

  She found Is in the old inner district as he returned from a day of scrounging. He was dirty, unkempt, but unbowed. Since Martin had decreed he was not acceptable to the other Abs until he proved he would do the menial tasks of Abs during the work season, he was denied the rations and the safety of Martin's House of Abs. The House of Ishner still managed to get supply packets through to him and his condemned younger sister, but he had given the last packet to his renamed sister, Il, who was allowed to remain with Martin. The Handmaiden claimed she would protect Il, but Is wondered if that were possible. At least his sister had a place to sleep, but she was having difficulty adjusting to the life of an Ab, the loss of her name, and the security of the House of Ishner.

  His bag was slung over his shoulder and he was congratulating himself on his take when Di ran up to him.

  “We must hide. I spoke the vision.” Her light brown eyes were wide with distress.

  Is gaped at her. “Ye did nay.” Horror was in his voice.

  “Aye, and I named Martin as the False Prophet. Take my Wee Da and hide him.”

  Wee Da, however, had a firm grasp around his mother's neck, and she could not remove him. Is shook his head.

  “Nay, we'll go to this new place I've found. Quickly.” He turned and sped up the broken street with Di loping behind.

  They were in a part of Bretta once lined with small craft shops and Tri housing overhead. Before the Justines had enforced their rule with Krepyon guards, Tris and members of Thalia's Houses would fly in on their flivs, the four-seat vehicles of Thalia, and park at the padport
s for a fee on a celebration day or to shop. The rounded buildings of concrete and Ayranian alloys were deserted; the padports vacant. The remaining Tris had left this area for the waterfront where food was distributed. In the back of one building, Is had found a door that opened. For over one hundred years the owners never returned to lock it, nor was it likely that they would return now. The three disappeared within and Is blocked the doorway with a carved statue of a wild elbenor raised on hindquarters showing fangs below the snarling lips.

  “Come, we'll go upstairs. The furnishings are quite good. Ye can rest there and Wee Da can play. I'll prepare the meal.”

  Di bounded up the steps. “Will they nay see the light up here?”

  “I've blocked off the windows, and I've been outside at night to verify that nay light escapes. We are safe as long as Martin's minions nay ken where I rest.”

  Di spied the long couch and then the hall leading to the still furnished sleeping areas.

  “Dear Gar, a real bed. Is, tis perfect.” She swept into one sleeping room and set Da on the bed, pulled off her brown, ankle boots, and collapsed.

  “I must rest. Wee Da, be good for Is.” She closed her eyes.

  Is set his bag down and looked at the child. Wee Da regarded him with a smile and started to run. Is shrugged and ran after him. He did nay mind watching the wee one, although he kenned it was Troyner's get. At present Troyner, Maca of Troy, stood in the docket before the Council of the Realm. Is doubted if Troyner could fend off the Sisterhood much longer. They would bar Troyner from House and make him Ab. Damn the Sisterhood and their strict obedience to the rule of the Justines and the Kreppies. Only once had a Justine died on Thalia since the war ended and that had been in Ayran, deep in the mines, a dangerous place in the best of times.

  Di woke with shadow light enfolding her and Wee Da patting her cheek and saying, “Mither, tis sus.”

  She sat up and her vision of the bulky Maca of Don and his handsome, hard-faced laddie with the strange grey, blind eyes faded. She hugged Wee Da and sniffed. The smell of food and the burning of oil came from the front area. She pulled on her boots, swung Da onto her hip, and walked out into the front.

  Is had devised some sort of lamp from a slender-necked ceramic vase by filling it with oil and inserting a wick twisted from an old mat. A golden flame from the wick wedged into the vase stood above the neck. The improvised light cast a glow over the table. At least there was bread and a spread for it made from onions and some sort of shriveled red vegetable or fruit.

  Is smiled at her. “I sorrow that there tis nay milk for Da, but I had nay anticipated guests.”

  “Tis all right, Is, he still drinks from me. Tis there a working lav here or must I go outside?”

  “Tis best to go outside. I'll help with the door and the guarding.”

  As they went down the stairs, he asked, “Did ye sleep well?”

  “Aye, but I dreamt the vision. It will return. The Sisterhood will come for me.” She turned to him.

  “If they take me, ye must see that Da gets to the Laird of Don when he arrives. The Sisterhood canna hurt Da then.”

  “Ye worry too much. They will ignore ye.”

  “Nay, they are already angered. Twice I have almost been House, and the Sisters have noticed. Ayranians hate me for luring their Maca into my arms. They believe I coaxed her into a life as an Ab as the Handmaiden to Martin. The Sisterhood found out I was safe with Troyner of Troy. They mean to control his House and see him reduced to Ab or dead. My time with Rocella of Rurhran does nay count for Rocella would nay defy her Maca.”

  “The Sisterhood goes after any Maca that tis male. It has nay to do with ye.” Is held the door for her and they went outside. Di handed Da to Is before scooting around the corner of another building.

  Chapter 2: A Reprieve

  Is' assurances about the Sisterhood proved correct. They scorned the Kenning Woman's words from a vision. What the Counselor of the Realm found annoying was the green clad Kreppie screeching at her about the Maca of Don returning prophesy given in a public place. Beauty wore her official Counselor of the Realm white uniform and listened patiently. The Kreppie's greenish cheek scales were almost jiggling by the time he screamed at her, “You will arrest that woman and send her to Ayran!”

  “We will nay give credence to her words.” Beauty sat straight in her rounded chair, glaring down at the official. “If we send her to Ayran, Jolene will smack her bottom, put her to bed, and shower her with gifts from House. That tis nay punishment.”

  “You forget. This Ab is responsible for the Maca of Ayran defecting to the Abs and to Martin.”

  “I have nay forgotten. Ye and the Justines approved it as fulfilling the old prophesy that Ayran would become Abs. As for the former Maca, she was always whining about the old religion. Di did nay persuade her. All Di wished was to become House and she thought Jaylene would grant it for the love of her body.” Beauty practically spat words at him.

  “The Ab must be made an example of for others to see.” The Krepyon put his hands on the desk and leaned towards her.

  “I demand to see the Guardian of the Realm.”

  “My mither, the Guardian, grows eld and she tis resting right now. She will awaken within the hour.” Beauty smiled at him. “I will, of course, discuss this with the Great Betta and will defer to her wisdom.”

  The Krepyon, appointed envoy and administrator of Thalia, glared at her. He knew full well that Beauty ran the day-to-day functions of Thalia. Beauty, he thought with abhorrence, was a complete misnomer. The woman stood at least six-foot four and was muscled from head to toe, plus she possessed but two skimpy mammary glands. Thalians had a strange concept of beauty, He shuddered. His policy would be carried out.

  “That woman must be silenced!”

  “I agree with ye, Coordinator Balen. She must be silenced, but not by making a spectacle of her. If she does nay spout those words again, they will be forgotten and go nay further than Betron.” The woman will die, she thought. The words about her long-ago betrayal must nay be repeated.

  “Do you believe that?” Coordinator Balen pounded at the desk. “The Abs will sign for work duty by the end of this cycle. They'll carry it to every continent on Thalia. She must be confined.”

  Beauty sank against the back of the chair and smiled. “Coordinator Balen, I promise if she speaks again, she will be silenced, but nay by condemnation. There are other ways.” She leaned forward.

  “Consider how ridiculous her words are. It has been over one hundred and twenty years since they left. The Maca of Don is dead.”

  “We have no proof of that. The Justines do not believe that one of their own has been lost out there. When Ricca returns, he will tell us how he disposed of Llewellyn.”

  Beauty looked at him. Stupid Kreppies. Always they credited the Justines with Gar like powers. She made her voice all innocence.

  “We believe they've disappeared into space. Even if they return and the Maca tis with them, he canna have a laddie. He tis a mutant and there tis nay seed, or so the Justine teachings go.”

  Balen's face whitened with horror. “You doubt the Justines? I'll report you.”

  “I? I doubt the teachings of the Justines? Ye must be mad. I used Justine teachings to remind ye of the foolishness of her words.”

  “The Tris and Abs of Thalia give too much credence to the words of the Kenning Woman.”

  Beauty straightened, her hands grasping the chair's arms, her eyes becoming brown agate, her voice rising in protest.

  “There tis nay Kenning Woman! She tis a fraud.”

  They were reduced to glaring at each other when Betta entered the room. Her white hair glistened, and the white, full length over-gown hid her aging body from view.

  “Ye both are nay thinking.” She looked at the two. “I had the troller on so I have heard your words. Beauty tis correct. If the woman holds her tongue, all will be forgotten. If she speaks again, we will deal with her and she will die, but nay as a condemned in Ayr
an. There are other ways.” She went to the other side of the desk and sat.

  “Now, tis there anything else?”

  Balen looked dubious. “Won't a death of such a young, healthy Ab be suspicious?”

  Betta gazed at him complacently. “The old prophesy from the last Kenning Woman said, 'the new Kenning Woman would stumble.' She will stumble.” Betta smiled at them both.

  Chapter 3: The Stumble

  Is returned the next afternoon when he finished trading some of yesterday's scavenged finds. His bag was partially filled with food. He was confident they would survive until Signing Day. His Guardian should send another packet then. He had sent an urgent plea for two packets and hoped that Ishmalisa would heed him. It was fortunate that the seasons were warming, and he no longer risked freezing outside. He knew he was strong enough to work, but how he longed for his fishing vessel.

  Wee Da met him at the top of the stairs with a bellow and ran straight at him intent on continuing the wrestling match of the morning. Is swung him upward and grinned at Di.

  “Does he nay tire?”

  Di smiled and stopped her pacing. “Of course, he does nay. What did ye find out?” She needed air. She wanted exercise. Confinement was more wearying than work or working out.

  “They are nay looking for ye. I was correct. They dinna care what ye said as long as ye nay say it again.”

  “How can ye be sure?”

  “One of the Sisterhood's low ranking patrollers was kind enough to pull me aside and suggest that ye nay drink so heavily of the brew that loosens your head and your tongue. They nay wish to hear such words from ye again.”

  Di heaved a sigh. “I dinna wish to speak such words, but when the vision comes it tis hard to ignore.” She made a slight face and shrugged her shoulders.

  “Signing time tis soon. I'll choose Ayran. Nay there care what I say, and till then, we will enjoy our time together.” A smile lifted her cheeks.

  The days grew warmer, and the Houses began to assemble in Betron for the monthly meeting of the Council, and the day when Abs signed up for any agricultural or menial work offered by each House. The discussion of wages wagged every tongue. To show their good will, the Houses sent extra provisions for Martin to distribute. Ishmalisa had sent the extra packets, and Is felt his strength returning. He and Di strolled among the booths decorated with each House's colors and looked at the posted work. Abs refused all schooling, but so many of the Tris had voluntarily joined the Abs to procure food that someone was always available to read when the crowd gathered around each screen displaying the work list. The former Tris and life-long Abs pretended to ignore those condemned to servitude from the Houses, but found it difficult not to give way or bow.