First Light - Prequel to the Lightbearer Series



  First Light

  Prequel to the Lightbearer Series

  By

  Tami Lund

  Cover Artist: Rebekah Ganiere

  Editor: Julie Sturgeon

  Published by: Tami Lund

  Copyright: 2015 by Tami Lund

  License Notes

  Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favorite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.

  All entities, locations, businesses, etc. in this book are strictly figments of the author’s overactive imagination and are not to be construed as real.

  Dedication

  Thank you, Julie.

  Chapter 1

  1512 A.D.

  “Look at how their naked torsos glisten in the sunlight,” Sabine said, her voice full of admiration. Her friend Maria giggled and Sabine shushed her. “Do not alert them to our presence,” she whispered.

  They lay on their stomachs on the dusty ground, on a ledge of the cliffs within which the Lightbearers made their homes. Hiding beneath the branches of an overgrown bush, they watched the Lightbearer warriors go about their daily practice.

  The half-naked Lightbearer warriors.

  As eager as she had been to accompany Sabine, Maria had complained of sullying their dresses until Sabine reminded her they could use magic to put themselves to rights again.

  Well, Maria could, at any rate. All Lightbearers possessed magic, but it manifested itself in a variety of ways, and not always equally. Take the warriors, for example. The number of males who possessed the ability to summon a sword seemed to dwindle with each generation. Although, in truth, that could be attributed to their mortal enemy, the shapeshifters, who continued to grow more bold and cunning in their attacks.

  Sabine was another example of the unequal distribution of magical abilities. A food gatherer and preparer for the coterie, she was lousy at her job. She rarely managed to collect enough fruit or vegetables to appease the cooks. What she did gather was too ripe or not ripe enough, and she managed to ruin whatever dish she was assigned to prepare. Clearly, that was not where her magical ability lay.

  Unfortunately, she had not found anything else she was good at, so she was stuck trying to do the same task her mother did, under the assumption that one day her magic would cooperate and she would finally excel at her assigned role. Given she was coming up on her twenty-first summer, it seemed unlikely she would ever find a way to have a positive influence within the coterie.

  “We should go,” Maria said. “We still need to gather berries before the sun sets.”

  “Wait. Look.” Sabine pointed at the group of warriors. They had all stopped swinging swords and parrying and now stood at attention as another Lightbearer joined their group. He was taller than the rest, with thick, white-blond hair he kept trimmed short, and a smoothly shaven face. His deep blue eyes were so dark they appeared almost black, and made a nice contrast against his sun-tanned skin and pale hair.

  “The king,” Maria said in a breathy voice, as her gaze, along with Sabine’s, became riveted on the newcomer.

  The two women watched as he paused and spoke to his warriors before stripping off his white linen shirt and tossing it to the ground. At the sight of his bare chest, with its sharply defined peaks and valleys, Sabine sucked in a mouthful of dust. She sneezed and then began coughing uncontrollably, while her eyes watered so profusely she could no longer admire the king on whom she—like nearly every female in the coterie—had a crush.

  Not that he would ever notice her. As small as his kingdom had become over the years, it was still defined by strict social guidelines. The king had his warriors and his court of attendants, and then there were the peasants, those who saw to the everyday tasks involved in ensuring the inhabitants were fed, the coterie was clean, and everyone had clothing on their body.

  Sabine heard Maria utter, “Oh no,” a moment before she felt hands on her body, and then she was lifted to her feet and those same hands moved to her face, cupping her cheeks. Magic flared, slipping from those large, warm hands into her body, clearing the dust from her lungs and allowing her to breathe freely again.

  Sabine wiped tears and dirt from her eyes and said, “thank you” before she realized who had helped her. “Oh,” she said, the word coming out as a squeak. “Your grace.”

  She had only been this close to the king one other time. It had been three months ago, when she had returned to the coterie with a basketful of avocados—for once having had a successful foraging experience—and had tripped over a rock, falling to her knees, and spilling the fruits of her labor at the entrance to the cave.

  While a small group of onlookers had jeered and laughed, the king had hurried over, dropped to the ground and helped her gather the errant fruits. When he offered to carry the once-again full basket to the kitchens, she had shaken her head and rushed away, too embarrassed to even mumble a thank you.

  “You—you are a healer,” she blurted.

  His smile was a lift of one corner of his mouth. It took her breath away, and she feared instead of coughing and sneezing, she might pass out.

  “Yes. I am not afforded much opportunity to use the ability, but I can manage small tasks, like helping you to breathe properly again. What I cannot do, I’m afraid, is clean your person or your dress.”

  Sabine glanced down at her filthy dress and immediately began brushing at the material, stirring up a fresh cloud of dust. The king sneezed and waved a hand in front of his face.

  “I am so—my apologies, your grace.” She waved at the thick cloud of dissipating dust and accidentally smacked him on the nose. Sabine clapped her hands over her mouth. “I apologize again,” she said, her voice garbled because she spoke through her fingers.

  He rubbed his nose and said, “How about we settle for a thank you?” His gaze roved over Sabine, then Maria, then landed on the two wicker baskets lying on the ground. “What were you two doing up here?”

  “Picking berries,” Maria blurted.

  The king smirked. “And you picked the bush clean, I see. Did you eat all the berries?”

  Sabine could hear the teasing note to his voice. With more bravery than she would have thought possible, she straightened her spine and said, “We were watching the warriors practice.”

  Maria gasped and the king’s smile widened. “Oh? Looking for fighting techniques?”

  I wish. Sabine hated her role within the coterie. Not that it stopped her from dreaming.

  “Or perhaps you were enjoying the view?” Was it her imagination, or did the king sound hopeful? Before she could decide, Maria snagged the baskets, hooked her arm through the crook of Sabine’s elbow, and dragged her away.

  “We had best get to it. We’ve only a few hours of daylight left. Thank you, your grace,” Maria called over her shoulder as she led Sabine toward the path that would take them down to the bank of the river below.

  As she hurried along, Sabine glanced over her shoulder and saw the king still standing there, watching their retreat. He had the oddest look on his face.