The Monster Of Selkirk Book 1: The Duality of Nature Read online

  THE MONSTER OF SELKIRK

  Book I: The Duality of Nature

  C.E. Clayton

  Copyright © 2017 by C.E. Clayton

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Editor: Rob M. Miller

  Cover Artist Dane@ebooklaunch

  Created with Vellum

  For Megan, the best big sister a girl could ask for. Who was as excited for Tallis’s birth as she was for my own.

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Enjoy this sample from the first chapter of: “The Monster of Selkirk, Book II: The Heart of the Forest” Coming this fall/2017 from Devil Dog Press

  About the Author

  The Monster Of Selkirk Series

  Also From DevilDog Press

  Acknowledgments

  They say it takes a village to do anything. Well, “they” say that mainly for raising kids, but writing a book is close (especially if you don’t have kids). And it definitely took a village of warriors to get “The Monster of Selkirk” to the book you hold in your hands today.

  First and foremost, thanks to my family, those by blood and by choice who held me up, held my hand, but never held me back. Your love and support got me to this place of supposed “adulthood” where I can write young adult fiction for a living.

  A big thank you, especially to my parents, to the real-life Tomas (Andrew), my incredible friends Colleen, Frank, Andy, and Kendal, and the inspiration for Rosslyn and Tallis’s friendship: the talented Sophie. You all never batted an eye when I told you I wrote a book. Your “It’s about time” attitude was the spark I needed to light this fire.

  Thank you to all the people who read, gave feedback, and edited this book. Your work was and IS invaluable to this process. I am the author I am because of your tireless work and support as I learn the ins and outs of this industry.

  Also, thank you dear reader, for giving Tallis’s story a chance. If you want a soundtrack to go along with your experience, I’ve got you covered. Check out the “Selkirk” playlist I created on Spotify https://open.spotify.com/user/121402516/playlist/5y7UnUZSUR9rGR2uqHMpR . Music was instrumental in capturing the mood, the spirit, and the essence of what it was like for Tallis growing up as she did in a place like Selkirk.

  And a BIG shout-out to my brother-in-law Brad, you know what you did and thank you.

  Chapter 1

  THE BEGINNING: THREE HUNDRED YEARS IN THE MAKING

  Get up, Hamish, you bootlicker! Those bastards from Kincardine came early!” Another swift kick to the ribs had Hamish struggling to his feet.

  He was just about to ask who had come early, when he heard the thrashing of brambles as knights and their horses erupted into the camp. The cries of the remaining members of his clan that had stayed with the tremps filled the early morning air as they scattered like leaves in a sudden squall.

  The tremps aren’t screaming.

  It was one of the many unsettling facts about tremps Hamish had collected over the years. Hamish was convinced that the tremps couldn’t scream. Wodan, they couldn’t even speak. All the tremps ever did was utter their spine-tingling click-clacking growls.

  There had been a time, some almost-forgotten ages ago, when the tremps had been different. They had been refined beings, civilized, even regal, with a rich culture dedicated to beauty, art, and a respect for the natural world. But these were not the elves of the olden tomes. These were monstrous, primal beasts that had turned their once beautiful bodies into nightmarish weapons covered in the crusted blood of past kills.

  His older brother understood these fiendish elves in a way he could not, not that Hamish had ever been all that eager to learn. It was why Tormod had stayed to help take care of the child when the rest of their clan had left. Hamish, on the other hand, stayed to prove to Tormod, and to the rest of his people, that he had outgrown his disgust for their allies—even though he still loathed the creatures.

  In truth, Hamish’s fear of the tremps had only grown the more his leaders strengthened their ties with them. He knew that some of the other Sipsi clans had—at best—a tenuous alliance with the elves, but his clan was unique. They were friends with the elves. Though Hamish wasn’t sure the term meant much to them, especially when they’d accidently steal his clan’s infants in the dead of night.

  “We shouldn’t even be here right now,” Hamish mumbled as he scrambled for a weapon. Sipsis and tremps never shared camp; it was too dangerous for humans to stay in close proximity to them, especially in areas where the clearings occurred. If it hadn’t been for the agreement his leaders had made with the elves regarding the baby they were attempting to raise, he and his clansmen would not be stuck in the middle of the tremps and the furious knights of Kincardine as they purged the Brethil Forest.

  The tremps had proved rather inept at taking care of a human child. Violent as they were, they lacked the compassion needed with a ward who did not share their lack of humanity. Not that any of it mattered; the years of planning would be gone in an instant now that the Clearing had begun.

  Ever since the elves had devolved, the Clearing had been a quadrennial event. The dukes and barons, every four years, sent their knights to eliminate the elven camps and drive them away from the human villages and cities. For whatever reason, the leader of the elven race never bothered having its people leave whenever the Clearing was imminent.

  It was something Hamish thought wasteful of the elves, but after Tormod had smacked him a few times for even questioning them and his own leaders, he had learned to keep such opinions to himself. And after he had watched a tremp tear someone apart with nothing but its teeth, he didn’t much care how many died each time a Clearing occurred.

  Hamish continued to watch the knights pour into the camp only to be met by tremps wielding their talon-like claws and filed teeth for weapons. He found himself once again wondering why his leaders found it prudent to partner with such creatures, and why Tormod admired their ruthlessness.

  “Don’t just stand there, halfwit, get to the babe!” Tormod kicked Hamish towards the edges of the camp where the child had begun wailing.

  “But what about you?” Panic welled within him as his brother brandished a rusty mace.

  Tormod glowered and shook his head. “I don’t matter. If the babe dies, worse things await us from the clan leaders and the elves. Either we die quickly now at the hands of those pisspot knights or slowly and very, very painfully later at the hands of the elves.”

  Hamish swallowed his dread, nodded once, and ran for the rear of the camp. He did not look back as he heard Tormod yell in rage, nor did he turn when he heard the clang of metal on metal as his brother met a knight.

  Tormod was right, the knights were at least merciful when they killed someone. The elves, on the other hand, had developed a taste for human flesh. Whether one was dead or not when they feasted depended largely on if the tremps were in what they considered to be a good mood. Hamish didn
’t know which mood to be the worse one, either.

  Hamish sprang over a stone that was almost perfectly round, avoiding a volley of arrows that were sent into the camp to force the elves back. He shuddered as the guttural cries of men and elves alike filled the air as flesh was torn by swords and teeth.

  “Don’t turn around, get to the baby,” Hamish mumbled as he rounded a tree that looked like it had been split down the middle by lightning. He kept repeating the mantra as if it could drown out the raging sounds of battle.

  Finally, he saw it, the basket the child was tucked away in. He could hear her frightened shrieks even over the sounds of crashing metal and the growling clicks of the tremps. He had almost reached the V-shaped tree roots that the child was hidden in when he was pushed roughly forward and a searing pain erupted from his back.

  Hamish struggled to his feet, gingerly reaching to feel the shaft of an arrow sticking out from his shoulder, the action forcing a yelp of pain as the muscles tore with the movement. Hamish’s sight was beginning to go fuzzy around the edges as the agony forced him towards unconsciousness.

  Tormod’s voice rang out in his mind, goading him back to his feet. Move, you plonker! If you don’t get to that babe I swear to Wodan….

  Another arrow whizzed by, so close it nicked his side, causing him to fall to the ground. Looking up again, he saw one of the tremps sprint towards the child. The elf’s speed and agility were almost as unnerving as her bright yellow eyes as she vaulted over his body and effortlessly snapped the neck of a nearby knight.

  For the moment, Hamish was just relieved she hadn’t mistaken him for one of the enemy.

  When she reached the child, Hamish turned and stumbled as fast as he could farther into the woods. “The tremps are better equipped to take care of her now,” Hamish snarled as he lurched out of the devastated camp.

  Managing to get clear of the still skirmishing tremps and knights, his breathing labored, back on fire with pain, and his head muddled by blood loss, he turned back once to look at the camp and saw that this Clearing was nearly complete.

  “The Clearing is always thorough. We should never have agreed to this … shouldn’t have even been here.” Hamish moaned. The tremps could have easily wrecked the knights who came to push them out of their lands, and yet, for reasons that never made any sense to him, they never did.

  He’d seen the brutality that flowed in the tremps’s wake. Had seen firsthand what they were capable of, and it was genuinely terrifying. Hamish knew that the armor the knights wore would do little to protect them if a whistle of elves decided to truly go to war.

  No longer able to stand, he slumped to the ground, snapping the arrow’s shaft in the process. Hamish barked in pain and unconsciousness began to claim him once more. Glancing one last time at the V-shaped roots where the baby had been residing, he gasped in horror to discover that the basket she’d been in was still there, overturned, and hidden behind massive roots.

  The nasty tremp had not managed to whisk her away.

  Chapter 2

  Are you daft, woman, what were you thinking bringing that thing here?” Jon looked at his wife—who was supposed to have been scouring the demolished campsite for any intact elven woodwork he could use in his carpentry—who had returned with a baby.

  “It’s not a thing, it’s a child.” Lana pointed at the baby. “See? No yellow eyes or claws.”

  “You know perfectly well what I mean. People will know she isn’t ours. Everyone knows you haven’t been pregnant. They’ll ask questions.”

  “So I tell the truth then, tell them I found her in the forest—”

  “Brilliant plan, tell them you found a baby in the tremp camp. The knights will parade her in front of every poor woman who has lost a child in the last five years or they will burn her just to be sure she isn’t some sodding elf. Either way, you’d lose the child.”

  “She’s not an elf, Jon! Anyone with a brain can see that. Just look at her, she’s clearly human. And besides, no one in Kincardine has had a baby stolen in nearly a year. This little thing is less than a month old, if that.”

  “It won’t matter and you know it. She isn’t your child, Lana. They will still show her to every woman who has had their baby stolen and someone will say that she is theirs, even if she isn’t. And you wouldn’t be able to tell them otherwise.”

  “We lie then. Tell everyone it was a surprise pregnancy. Goodness knows I’m big enough. People will believe it … they’ll believe if we believe it.”

  Reluctantly, Jon conceded. He could see the determination boiling behind her hazel eyes to keep this child and be a mother. He also knew if he persisted in trying to convince her to abandon the baby, he would lose his wife forever.

  “Oh, Lana ... I have a bad feeling about this.” Jon collapsed in a chair with his back to the fire.

  Lana smiled brightly as Jon relented, and cradled the girl to her chest. “That’s just the ague talking. You’ll make an excellent father. I know it.”

  Shaking his head, his thick, graying light brown hair fell across his eyes. He wondered if he had been able to accompany his wife after the Clearing, like he normally did, if he would have been more successful in convincing her not to take the child home.

  It was not that he did not want to be a father, because there had been a time when he had. But when he and Lana could not conceive, he found he did not yearn to be a parent in the same way she did. Over time, he saw it as a blessing.

  Jon was a skilled carpenter, making beautifully intricate designs out of even the most mundane pieces of furniture. But he was not a member of the guild, having never being able to afford their unpaid apprenticeships. This alone kept him from being able to set up a proper business that could compete with the other—recognized and supported—craftsmen.

  Collecting the unique woodwork of the elves after each Clearing allowed Jon to compete in a way that the guild members could not. If it were not for their scavenging, and Lana’s infrequent housekeeping duties in the village, they would not be able to afford even their simple lifestyle.

  Jon watched his wife sadly as she moved with the baby. “You know it’s not my skill at being a father that concerns me.”

  Ignoring her husband, Lana went about delicately clearing a space for the child, never once returning her to the basket now that she had her. Jon knew there would be questions, and any wrong answers would lead to ruin.

  There were enough half-mad women in Kincardine with stolen babies that would eagerly jump at the opportunity to replace their lost child with this one. In their hysteria, they would believe this infant to be theirs, and would even kill to have her. But losing another child after so many miscarriages would utterly destroy his wife, and Jon did not know what he would do without her.

  It did not take long for Lana to finish making space for the baby, for their home was not very large. Eventually, they would need to build on to the simple cottage to make room as the baby grew into a little girl, and one day into a woman. Jon didn’t relish the idea; it would be expensive, and he and Lana were barely living comfortably as it was.

  But part of Jon wanted to believe this could be a blessing, wanted to believe that this little girl would grow up to be the carpenter he was not. Maybe she would make it in this world where he and Lana had floundered. Just looking at her, he knew she would grow up to be beautiful, and if nothing else, beautiful women could go places that ordinary folk never could.

  Jon sighed, resigning himself to the idea of having a child, of unexpectedly becoming a father, and at such an old age. But he knew he couldn’t burden his wife with his concerns—right now. Truthfully, the last time he had seen her this happy was the day they had married, before she knew she could never have a child of her own. He would not, could not extinguish the new light burning so radiantly behind her eyes.

  Jon joined his wife as she gazed down at the child. “Well, she needs a name, Lana. I can’t call her Baby Girl for the rest of her days.”

  Lana was silent
for a few moments, lost in thought. There had been a time in their first years of marriage when they had idly discussed what they would name a boy or girl. But somehow Jon knew that none of those names were ever meant for a child that was not fully theirs, no matter how much Lana may love her.

  Finally, Lana whispered, “Tallis. We’ll name her Tallis.”

  Lana briefly smiled up at her husband before returning her attention back to Tallis and gently stroking the baby’s cheek. “Tomorrow, you’ll run to your brother’s, as if in a panic. Be rude if you must, and push people out of the way, but don’t stop, and don’t explain or apologize to anyone. Make them believe something serious just happened.

  “If you have to, tell Baird the truth, but bring him back in a hurry. We’ll have him spend the night and we’ll make a racket in the morning. When he leaves this house again, he’ll tell everyone a miracle has happened and we have been given a daughter.”

  Jon was silent for a minute, considering the plan. It wasn’t a bad idea. Baird had a son and had assisted in his birth, and it would make sense for Jon to seek him out. Baird was also a much better storyteller than Jon. If Baird were to tell their neighbors that Lana had just given birth, they would probably believe it.

  “He’ll have to tell them it was difficult and you must not be disturbed for a few days. Tallis is no newborn; people will notice that if we aren’t careful.”

  Lana smiled and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “See? We can make this work!”