SNEAK PREVIEW OF SAVAGE HEART:  BOOK ONE OF THE CLAN WARRIOR CHRONICLES:

 

 

Chapter One

 

She hadn’t always been such a coward.  As she walked through the tents at Assembly, Grace marveled how the Elders could reduce the most confident people to trembling apprehension.  She wistfully eyed the families sitting around their cook fires, seemingly without a care in the world.  Her father’s step was steady beside her and she glanced at him gratefully, secretly relieved he’d offered to come with her.  Even so, Grace had never felt more alone and knew this upcoming meeting could alienate her completely.  

 

Their people, the Faithful of God, were dying.  Each generation was weaker and less able to produce healthy, vigorous children.  Infant mortality had become alarmingly high and infertility was also on the rise, bringing inconsolable grief to many families.  Over the last fifty years, two or three birth defects had emerged to dominate in a grim and all too common pattern and the health problems of the general populace had become uniformly predictable.  

 

Whatever afflicted them seemed to afflict them all as though they carried within themselves specific flaws that intensified with each new generation.  Left unchanged,  Grace knew, the end result could only be extinction.  

 

A cool breeze drifted down from the snow-covered peaks and she drew the collar of her wool cape tighter around her neck.  

 

Years before as she had lay dying, her mother had shared with Grace her secret fears for their people.  She’d been a healer, as her mother had been before her, and she’d insisted on expending the last of her strength sharing the observations of two generations with her daughter. 

 

Grace had taken up her mother’s work after her death and the things she’d seen had only confirmed her fears.  There was no doubt in her mind that her mother had been correct in her suspicions.  But, she reminded herself, Mama had been wrong about the options available to them.  

 

The growing light of day revealed the sorrow in Grace’s large, brown eyes and the determined set of her jaw.  She knew the risk she was taking going to the Elders but she could see no other way to help her people.  Raising a shaky hand, she brushed at a stray hair that blew across her face, escaping the thick braid that was wound into a coronet at her crown, the required hairstyle for a woman.  Her upswept hair accentuated the strength in the gentle curves of her face and the proud, graceful arc of her shoulders and neck.  While she had never been called pretty, her countenance was too striking to ever be dismissed completely.  

 

As she watched the sun make its first appearance over the mountains, Grace remembered the confused and frightened child of thirteen she had been.  As she looked across the sloping terrain of the high mountain valley, all she saw was the low-lit room of her mother’s deathbed and the woman’s pale, exhausted face as she lay dying.  

 

Kneeling at her bedside, helpless to do anything but watch her slip away, she had tried to understand everything her mother was telling her about the fate of their people.  

 

“But what can we do?”  She had cried at last.  “How can we stop this terrible thing from happening?”

A small smile had crept across her mother’s face, her lips colorless against her skin.  It was a peaceful smile.  

“Nothing,” she’d rasped out shallowly.  “It is the will of God.”

 

Grace swallowed and lifted her face to the rosy hue of the morning, letting her thoughts drift up and out, into the great beyond.  Forgive me, Mama, she thought, but I can’t believe we are meant to do nothing.  There is a chance.  One slim hope.    

 

Her thoughts faltered as, once again, the enormity of what she intended to propose washed over her.  There was no way her solution could be interpreted as anything other than direct opposition to the Elders’ longstanding teachings and that was nothing short of blasphemy.  The Faithful believed they were led by God through the Elders, that every word they spoke was inerrant.  Their dictates shaped every aspect of village life and reached into every home, heart, and mind.  They were more than powerful men, they were demigods.  To even give the impression that one was questioning them was dangerous.  

 

And yet, she reasoned desperately, for all the reverence and awe they inspired, they were still men with a sacred responsibility to uphold.  They had pledged their lives to the good of their flock.  Surely they could be made to understand the dire situation that faced them all.  She wasn’t challenging their authority personally, merely asking them to take a risk, to set aside tradition and authorize her unorthodox plan for everyone’s sake.  

 

Grace sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping.  She wished with all her heart that there was some way to circumvent the Elders but it was hopeless to imagine she could take action without their support.  The thought of facing all ten of them at once was daunting but she, like the Elders, had a commitment she couldn’t escape.  She was a village healer, responsible for the health and welfare of the people under her care.  Her mother, God rest her soul, had found an acceptance of their fate that had eluded Grace for five long years.  To do nothing at all was a personal decision she couldn’t live with.  

 

No, she had to try.  Her path was clear and Grace knew she was doing the right thing.  

 

She squared her shoulders and looked around, taking in her surroundings.  The towering peaks, the ancient evergreen forests of spruce and cedar, the clean, cool air, all the familiar things that defined the only home she had ever known came sharply into focus.  She took a deep, steadying breath.   

 

Even at this early hour, people were out and about.  Boys were taking small flocks of sheep to pasture, men were tending to their cattle and horses, and women were restarting cook fires.  Another full day of Assembly was already underway.  

 

She and her father followed a path through the maze of tents and livestock that dotted the valley floor.  

Because of the rugged terrain, the Faithful were forced to live in small, widely scattered villages wherever they could find fertile valleys and alpine meadows that would support them and their flocks.  Throughout much of the year, they were totally cut off from each other, each village becoming a tiny world unto itself as the weather closed in and the mountain passes became blocked with ice and snow.  Annual Assembly was their opportunity to reunite as a people, to remember their shared heritage, to engage in commerce and strengthen their bonds with one another.  During the last two weeks of every June, the Faithful of God would gather in a predetermined place outside one of the ten villages.  They came with the aged and babes in arms, with crafts and animals to trade.  Assembly was central to all their lives, so much so that the Faithful counted their birthdays in Assemblies because, save for being born, everything of any importance happened to a person at that time.  

 

Assembly was where fathers and Elders arranged the betrothals of sons and daughters and where, the following year, those same children were married.  Marriages were forbidden to those belonging to the same village and, after the wedding, the bride left to join her husband’s village.  Annual Assembly was the only opportunity for married women to see their parents and siblings from one year to the next, a giant family reunion with much news to exchange, new babies to admire, and mutual grief and loss to share.  

 

It was also the only time when the Elders convened to discuss policy, make laws, and take care of official business.  

 

Grace had waited for Assembly for this very reason.  She knew that if her ideas were ever going to receive serious consideration, she had to approach all of the Elders together.  To have confided in her own village Elder would have been sheer folly.  

 

Elder Jacob hated her.  

 

Grace took a deep breath and tried for the hundredth time to find some reason for his animosity.  What had she ever done to earn such active hatred?  Every time he looked at her, his black eyes would fairly glow with hostility.  She shivered.  

 

If ever she’d been foolish enough to voice her thoughts to him, she would have been publicly chastised…or worse.  He was forever following her with those eyes, waiting for her to make a mistake, for any opportunity to rebuke her.  He was the reason she’d been denied a match when, at the age of sixteen, she’d come to her betrothal Assembly.  Elder Jacob had convinced her father that her family couldn’t spare her, being the oldest daughter in a motherless home.  

 

Her father had explained it all to her gently, with pity in his eyes, because an unmarried woman was an oddity.  While he had grieved for his daughter, he’d never once considered disagreeing with Elder Jacob.  

Her duty, he’d said, was to remain in their village and carry out her God-given responsibilities.  What he hadn’t needed to say was that remaining in her village doomed her to spinsterhood, a lifetime of looking after her aging father and living in the back bedroom of one of her brothers’ houses, an unpaid servant in another woman’s home.  

 

Grace dismissed the depressing thought with an impatient shake of her head.  She had more pressing and immediate concerns than how she was going to end her days.  

 

Today was the fourth day of Assembly, the day when the Elders ‘opened their tent’.  Anyone who desired an audience had to seek one today or lose the chance for another year.  She had to be focused, more prepared than she’d been for anything in her life.  The very fate of her people might hang in the balance.  

She felt her father’s warm grip on her elbow and jumped.  

 

“Are you sure you need to do this, child?”  Bushy black eyebrows knitted together in concern.  

 

“I don’t see how I have any choice.”  She bit her lip and found it hard to meet his gaze.

 

He lowered his eyes to the ground, pensively chewing the tobacco he kept in his cheek.  

 

“Do you want to tell me what you plan to say to them?”

 

She took a deep breath.  “I think I have a solution…but I don’t know if they’ll take it.”

 

His blue eyes squinted into the distance as he silently chewed.  “I guess I always knew it would come to this one day.  When you decided to follow in your mother’s shoes, I knew you’d have to do something.”

 

Grace squeezed his hand and tried to meet his steady gaze.   

 

“It was never supposed to be this way,” he said wistfully.  “When our ancestors came to these mountains, they had only the highest hopes.”  

 

“I know.”  She swallowed the dry lump in her throat and straightened her spine.  

 

They had come to stand outside the Elders’ tent and she felt like her nerves were going to jump out of her skin.  She let out a long, slow breath.  

 

“I’m proud of you, Grace, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t afraid for you.”  Her father grabbed her arm again protectively and she turned to look at him.  “Once we enter this tent, I’ll be powerless to help you.”  

 

She saw fear in his eyes and almost turned around then and there, but a familiar resolve kept her rooted to the ground.  

 

“I know.  But I’m glad you’re here.”  She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.  He sighed deeply and entered the tent, and she followed behind him.   

 

Her eye was immediately drawn to the ten Elders who sat at a long wooden table, one Elder for each of the villages.  The table was set up at the end of the large room and the men turned to stare at her as she entered, ten figures dressed head to toe in black with white beards to their chests.  She clenched her hands into fists to keep them from trembling.  

 

“David Hennessey,” Elder Jacob said, “we accept your request for an audience.”

 

Her father had been the one to organize this meeting since women were not allowed to address the Elders without a male intermediary.  It was a formality that went unquestioned and was just another way men dominated family, political, and spiritual matters. 

 

Elder Jacob’s gaze slid to Grace with a sinister power she could almost feel physically.  She stiffened her spine, keeping her face passive and her gaze steady. 

 

“What brings you to petition your Elders during Annual Assembly, Grace?”

 

She took a deep breath, ignoring the heat creeping up her neck.  “Dear Elders, thank you for seeing me.  I wouldn’t have bothered you with anything I didn’t believe was extremely serious.  I come to speak with you about our people’s survival.”

 

Several grey heads turned to look at one another.  

 

“As you know, my mother was our village healer and kept records of the babies that were born,”  Grace continued, trying to keep the tremble out of her voice, “not just the numbers but also the health of the mothers and the children.  It seems that, during her lifetime, not only were birth defects becoming more common but it was growing harder for women to conceive at all.  Sometimes the birth defects are so serious…sometimes the babies are killed immediately and thrown on the fire.”  

 

A murmur went up among the men and Elder Jacob stood up.  With a sinking heart, Grace realized he would be leading the proceedings.  

 

“Yes, yes!”  He dismissed her with a wave of his hand.  “Please tell me you have brought more to our attention than what is obviously God’s punishment for sin?”  His lip curled slightly and he looked around at his peers.  Grey heads nodded sagely.  

 

“Elder Jacob,” she continued, undaunted, “I believe this is something more serious, something…not punishment from God.  When our ancestors came here five hundred years ago they were a small group of survivors.  By now, our blood has been so recycled we’re only concentrating our flaws-“

 

“Child.”  Elder Jacob’s voice boomed with an authority that stopped her cold.  “The Faithful of God were saved because of our purity.  I won’t have you forget that.  To suggest He would abandon us now is turning your back on His goodness and denying his power!”  He stood, placing his hands on the table before him.  “We represent the best of his children.  God does not make mistakes.”

 

She bowed her head, gritting her teeth.  

 

“And I would beg to ask what you expected us to do about this?”  Elder Jacob looked around with amusement and Grace knew he was warming up, enjoying his audience and preparing to humiliate her.  “As if God would ask anything of us but simple obedience!”  

 

This was greeted by more nods of approval.  

 

She looked desperately at the panel of Elders and knew it was now or never.  

 

“I propose we leave these mountains, look for other survivors, who knows-“

 

“Blasphemy!”  Elder Jacob’s voice thundered.  

 

Grace jumped, turning her wide eyes to stare at him.  

 

“Men thought their towers and clever machines replaced their need for God and now you’re doing the same.”  He pointed an outstretched arm at her and she thought she saw triumph in his eyes.  Too late, she wondered if she’d finally given him a reason to punish her severely.  

 

“Elder Jacob…” She bowed her head and stretched her hands before her in supplication, trying to pacify him.  

 

“The Great Purge was God’s punishment for man’s evil ways.”  His voice was calm and he stared at her the way a little boy stares at a captured fly before he plucks its wings.  “What you’re suggesting is to stop trusting in His care after everything He’s done for us.  No!  I have not in all my days heard such dangerous speech.”  He pressed his fingers into the wood of the table and stared at its surface.  “I entreat my brothers to join me in convicting Grace Hennessey of blasphemy and sentencing her with exile.”  

 

The color drained from Grace’s face.  Behind her, her father cried out and his fingers tightly circled her forearm as if to drag her out of there, as though there were some way to undo this.

 

Some of the Elders were shifting uncomfortably and murmuring protests.  One of them cleared his throat and spoke up.   

 

“Perhaps a less severe punishment would be more-“  

 

“This kind of talk cannot be allowed to spread.”  Elder Jacob pressed his thin lips together and his dark eyes bored into Grace.  “Evil must be rooted out at the source before innocents can become tainted.  This woman is from my village, a village I have been trusted to protect, and I will not allow her to bring damnation to good, God-fearing people.”

 

“Perhaps a public flogging…”

 

“I invoke my right to banish this wolf from my flock!”  Elder Jacob’s voice rang with his trademark authority and he took in the men around him, silently challenging them to protest.  He turned to Grace, pointing at her.  “If we allow women like this to spread their lies, we risk bringing another Great Purge upon us.”  

 

An uncomfortable silence filled the tent as Grace stared at Elder Jacob, her mouth open.  She wanted to shield herself from the pure hatred she saw in his eyes, a hatred she’d never even known was possible.  She barely registered her father’s hand clutching her arm.  

 

Elder Jacob’s eyes fairly glowed when no one rose to challenge his edict.  

 

“Grace Hennessey, you have shown disdain for God’s Anointed and in so doing, contempt for God Himself.  This will not be tolerated.  You have until sunset today to leave the Faithful of God and do not return.”  

 

She gaped at him.  Her father choked a sob and she felt his fingers tighten around her arm to pull her out of the tent.  Her legs felt wooden as she stumbled into the bright light and the sun hit her eyes, blinding her.