Anna’S Wars: Called

By Mark Kosierowski

The devastating apocalypse has faded into legend for many members of the four kingdoms that comprise Annas world, but not for the women who rule and not for the Viszudar who strive to persevere to the restoration of the glory of what has been lost.

Hidden by her parents following the death of her older sisters, Anna is called to Viszudar training by her mentor and finds a life more rewarding than any she ever imagined for herself. But overcoming the doubts her superiors harbor about her abilities proves to be much easier than conquering the doubts Anna has about herself and about her love for Nicco. Those doubts and emotions are cruelly exploited by the servant of a far more deadly master. Leetha recognizes strength in Anna and so seeks to destroy her while completing the annihilation thwarted by the Dovarsha-Issin.

Untested and underestimated, Anna finds the resources to overcome ever-increasing dangers until she faces the most devastating loss of all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Sep 26, 2014
• ISBN: 9781490842332

Mark Kosierowski

Mark began Annas Wars as bedtime stories, crafting a fantastic world of four kingdoms dedicated to courage, sense of self, sharing, and striving. Mark was raised on the South Side of Chicago, and has a love of boating from summers spent at one of the countrys largest inland lakes regions.

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Copyright © 2014 Mark Kosierowski.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Cover art by Rebecca S. Kosierowski.

WestBow Press

A Division of Thomas Nelson & Zondervan

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Bloomington, IN 47403

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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.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

ISBN: 978-1-4908-4234-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4908-4235-6 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4908-4233-2 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014911321

WestBow Press rev. date: 09/23/2014

CONTENTS

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

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Names, Titles, And Places

To my wife Becky

Without your courage there would be no Elise, no bedtime stories, and no Anna

The author gratefully acknowledges the contributions of many readers who suffered through numerous preliminary drafts, made invaluable suggestions, corrections and contributions but who most importantly gave encouragement at critical times. He also recognizes Becky’s contribution to the names and takes this opportunity to apologize about the map.

A glossary of names and terms unique to Anna’s world has been included for your convenience beginning at page 259.

CHAPTER 1

A nna let out a deep breath and leaned back on her elbows as she stretched her chin toward the new evening sky. Her dark brown hair swept the warm sand, the shells woven into her braids pleasantly adding to the music of the waves gently coming home to the shore. It’s the right decision, she told herself again. It’s what I want. She fluffed out the folds of her skirt with a quick flick of one leg and lowered herself farther onto the delightfully familiar warmth of the beach.

Nice pose, she thought sarcastically, but she stopped herself from glancing toward the east, where Nicco was casting for tomorrow’s bait just as self-consciously. A burst of raucous laughter rolled up from the few fishers still on the stone quay and threatened to sharpen Anna’s discomfort. She hoped Nicco was not looking toward her but then was disappointed that he stood with his tanned back to her, showing two younger boys how to cast the thin net out over the gentle waves. The setting sun just about silhouetted his muscular frame against the azure sea.

The sweet smells of the land and sea merged into the deepening evening as Anna lay there, letting herself imagine being married to him, dreaming of life as a sea fisher’s wife. She rolled to her left and shielded her eyes to watch him draw in the net. His hands and arms moved in a soft, fluid motion that started between his shoulder blades, raced outward, and then returned, bringing the net with it. He moved like a whip. Her hip squirmed deeper into the sand on its own, her fingers running across the sugary surface. It will be nice, she thought again with a smile.

Anna! Her young cousin Bicca called breathlessly from far behind. Anna could tell the child had run all the way from the village. Anna drank in a last look at Nicco.

Anna! Bicca called again from so much closer Anna knew she was running fast. Excited but not scared, Anna thought of her tone of voice, hearing in it a confirmation of the rumors she had heard about a visitor.

Anna waited for the last moment, and then, with cat-like quickness, rolled to her knees and sprang out to playfully tackle Bicca as she ran up. But Bicca had guessed Anna would test her and dived smoothly to avoid her older cousin’s grasp.

Bicca laughed joyfully at her success as she rolled back onto her feet. I knew you would try to catch me, Anna! she cried, bent over and panting hard, her hands on her knees. I was ready!

You did well, little fish, Anna answered, getting up from her lunge, brushing the sand off her shoulders and shaking it out of her hair. Over Bicca’s head she could see Nicco look up at the small commotion. She buried an impulse to wave to him.

Guess who’s here? Bicca asked between gasps. Anna paused in apparent consideration. Guess, guess! Bicca cried impatiently.

Anna carefully blended a small measure of teasing into her incorrect guess. My father?

No! Bicca said, disappointing Anna by missing her tone of voice. Old Marta!

Really? Anna now matched Bicca’s excitement. When did she get here?

Just now! Bicca almost screamed as she grabbed Anna’s hand and started pulling her back toward the huts up the beach where the shadows of night had already started covering the edge of the trees. I ran to get you as soon as she came!

Anna let herself be pulled along, casting a quick glance over her shoulder at Nicco, who had already turned resolutely back to his work. Just like a good sea fisher should, Anna thought with a tinge of disappointment.

It was a long walk back to the village, but Bicca did not quiet down the whole way. Anna shared her feelings but kept her actions in check. She loved Old Marta almost as much as she loved her own mother after living with her off and on for moon cycles since her childhood. The memories of those days floated back as fresh and new and pleasant as the breeze from the sea.

The warm, soft sand gave way to the solid ground of the village street, but the girls did not slow their happy pace. The onshore breeze carried the spicy scent of the fresh, squid-like skellets drying on the racks along the beach. The sounds of families cooking or eating the evening meal mingled with the calls of birds returning to their nests, gradually replacing the music of the waves.

Anna smiled and nodded pleasantly at the respectful greetings offered by those they passed in the street. They continued farther up the slope and crossed the already-empty square that marked the beginning of the paved Beach Road that ran westward to the Kishtar Center. The wagons were gone, carrying the day’s catch to the Kishtar Center where they would stay overnight and start back at dawn, arriving in time to load tomorrow’s catch and repeat the trip. A few banners fluttered almost sadly in the quiet breeze, remnants of the festival celebrating the seasonal catch of skellets, the small, squid-like fish that when dried and ground was used as a preservative.

Outside the door of her family’s house, Anna took a moment to straighten her dress and hair. She knew Old Marta loved her but would look disapprovingly if Anna walked in looking like washup from the beach.

The wooden door, unusual even for houses this far up, swung smoothly on its hinges of heavy but brittle darkron metal, and Anna tried unsuccessfully to keep from running into Old Marta’s arms. The kind woman was sitting at the table, the remnants of a small meal still in front of her. Reya, Anna’s mother, smiled with joy at the love the two shared as she watched her daughter almost crawl into the old teacher’s lap. Reya was about to speak when Anna broke off her hug and bowed respectfully to Old Marta.

Fair winds and smooth waters bring us favor, she offered in the traditional greeting of the Kishtar sea-fishers.

To be shared by all, Marta replied in the same form, her face breaking into a broad smile. She firmly grasped Anna’s shoulders and slightly pushed her back. Let me look at you! I cannot believe how you have grown.

Bicca squealed, dispelling the momentary feeling of self-consciousness that had yet again crept over Anna. You said the same thing to me! she almost shouted. I’m growing just as fast as Anna!

And just as well, Marta added.

Reya allowed herself to glance up from clearing the table at the approving tone.

Marta caught the movement and confirmed her meaning with a tiny, momentary smile in her eyes. I have left you in this salty backwater for far too long! Marta teased Anna. You have grown to womanhood.

Backwaters are for river people, Anna teased back. All beaches are welcome ground to us sea folk, she said, hoping to move the conversation off her curvy figure that had provided her with a sense of delight earlier that evening.

Marta let the bait float away and thankfully for Anna turned her attention back to Bicca.

You’ve done the Dovarsha a fine service this evening, young one, She thanked Bicca. But you’d best run along home now.

But I want to play Fish and Nets! Bicca complained.

We will before I leave, Marta promised. It’s getting late, and your mother could use your help putting little fish to bed.

Bicca smiled and gave Old Marta a hug as she set off on her new task.

Marta watched her go. The kingdom will be well served by that little fish, she told Reya. You were right to come back here.

It’s caused more travel than I anticipated. Reya responded with a sigh.

Leaving the court hasn’t brought you more time with your husband? Marta asked.

Rellin has been back and forth with the end of the skellet season and this new development with the Fishbowl, but we serve where we are called. At least we’ve been able to be together some days. Reya worked as she spoke, lighting a long braided wick of dried sand grass from the dying fire in the brick cook box and using it to light the table lamp.

I heard it was a poor season, Marta said.

It was better than some, worse than others, Reya replied, sounding like a true sea fisher’s wife. There are ample reserves to meet the greater demand of the Fishbowl. She now sounded like a court administrator.

What’s the new development with the Fishbowl? Marta asked evenly. The catch from it has been a real benefit to the hungry in all four kingdoms and to the status of the Kishtar as a result. It’s become rather important, she added unnecessarily for Anna’s benefit.

Reya nodded in acknowledgement and then continued. They pulled out one or two monsters, as big as Bicca with a mouthful of razor-sharp teeth. The concern is that these creatures will inhabit the Fishbowl and devastate the catch. She shuddered and blew out the wick, letting it smolder for a moment before pinching it out completely. The scent blended with the smell of clean wood and finished cooking to fill the room with the most pleasant aroma.

Reya set three wooden drinking bowls on the table and carefully filled one using a cold stone jug. She took a sip, nodded in approval, and then filled the other two, setting them in front of Marta and Anna.

Marta stood to her full height and shook out the folds of her simple robe before settling back into the chair. She took a sip from the bowl and raised an eyebrow to question her former student. They blend juice from the fruit of the orchard trees with fresh swan grass juice and let it age a bit before adding just a touch of skellet, Reya explained. There’s some timing involved, and it can turn out a bit tart for my taste.

A nice result, Marta remarked after a sip. Why don’t they have this at the palace?

It’s something new. I’ll send you off with a cask, Reya promised.

You’re not leaving tonight! Anna complained, sounding to her own ear far too much like little Bicca.

Marta was actually glad to hear a note of immaturity in Anna’s voice but curled the ends of her mouth in a disapproving direction momentarily before answering. Not tonight, but soon. She took a long sip, savoring the sweet taste of the drink and the smooth feel of the bowl. She set it gently back on the table. Actually, I’m here on a task.

For the Kishtar Dovarsha? Anna asked, foolishly trying to mask her curiosity.

Of course, Marta answered with an understanding smile, but it’s really more for the Viszudar.

The mere mention of the corps trained to serve as diplomats and court advisors gave Anna pause. She wondered yet again what she could ever do for these highly skilled women.

Marta continued in a slightly lighter tone. To be completely honest, it’s as much a favor for me as anything else.

I’ll pull on the oars, Anna answered brightly, using a phrase more common among the river people.

You may want to listen to the favor before you agree to do it, Marta replied, understanding the heart of Anna’s impulsive answer. She rested wearily against the support of the chair. Except for the warm glow of the table lamp the shadows had overtaken the room, and the lines in her face took on a much more pronounced appearance as she leaned back to the edge of the light. I would like you to join the current class of Viszudar trainees.

From very far away, perhaps even as distant as the flat open expanse of the Marutu, came the faintest echo of thunder. Anna carefully controlled her stunned reaction.

Marta waited, letting the silence test Anna, watching for the young woman to use the skills she had been taught.

What do you mean by join the class? Anna finally asked.

It seems clear to me, Marta replied a touch harshly, changing tone as she decided to use the conversation as a training exercise.

I didn’t know that I could join training now, Anna said, disappointing both women with the comment. I thought it started at the King’s Moon. We’re halfway through this moon cycle.

Anna’s mother let out a tiny flash of frustration in her eyes that was so brief no one except her own child would have seen it. Anna grabbed her bowl but slowed herself as she began concentrating more fully. She took an appreciative sip to hide the first pang of panic nipping at the corners of her thinking.

Anna, her mother continued, mirroring Marta’s tone and tactics. I’m confused why this seems to come as such a complete surprise to you. You know Marta and I are members and have been training you since childhood for the Viszudar.

I did not realize how much training you’ve given me, Anna answered, letting herself be pushed into a defensive comment as she looked carefully at each woman. I took that far too much for granted.

Like you take the respect you get from the people in this village for granted? her mother asked sharply, showing her growing disappointment.

Anna kept her emotions in check but still responded defensively as she continued to search each woman for clues. I don’t take that for granted, but that is due to your status and Father’s position in the court as Head of Both Fleets, not to mention his work on the Fishbowl.

Yes, in part, her mother agreed. But also because they see the effect your training and upbringing has had on you. Don’t pretend you don’t know this.

Anna began to realize that she was reacting rather than responding but did not ask herself why. She kept herself from reaching for her drink, knowing she would reveal her flailing if she repeated the tactic. Instead, she unbraided a loose shell from her hair. Anything I do will appear childish at this point, Anna reasoned incorrectly as she put the shell on the table.

"I was thinking about some other plans," Anna offered wistfully.

He’s a good man and a good fisher, her mother agreed seriously, grateful for an authentic comment from her daughter. He will have boats in his day. Both your father and I believe you will do well if you decide to go in that direction.

Anna noticed the sincere tone as a rush of emotions hit her. She was deeply embarrassed that her attempts to conceal the depths of her feelings for Nicco had failed and, worse yet, that he had not come to mind right at the start of the discussion. Am I kidding myself about my feelings for him? she wondered.

Neither woman missed the sidelong look that ruled Anna’s face as she considered this new perspective, and neither was surprised as Anna shook her head slightly to bring herself back into the conversation.

Why did you ask me to join the class, instead of joining training? Anna asked. Those seem to be two different things.

Marta smiled. And so they are.

I let you push me into being defensive right from the start, Anna said ruefully. Then I started looking for what you wanted from me instead of considering what I think.

I’ve left you in this salty backwater far too long, Marta repeated. I didn’t have to push very hard, and you forgot you can’t evaluate the position of others without knowing your own mind. Your skills have grown very dull indeed.

My feelings for Nicco confused me, but there is something else I haven’t quite worked out, Anna said thoughtfully.

You will need to work through your feelings for Nicco before taking on this task, her mother advised.

That’s what I’m missing! Anna blurted out. What is this favor you want from me? It’s not to volunteer for the Viszudar.

No, it’s not, Marta answered. I found a young girl in the River Village that I think has exceptional natural talent and arranged for her to enter training. But she is very immature and is doing poorly. She needs a friend to help her through this difficult change.

So I am to join the class, but not enter training?

I don’t think you should try to separate the two. her mother said. But entering training does not mean completing it or entering the Viszudar.

But that’s what you really want, Anna said. You’ve been training me for that all along.

That does not make it inevitable, her mother said, or even advisable if it is not what you want. The training you have received will be useful no matter what you do in life.

To be completely honest, this might be a fool’s errand, Marta added with a flip of her hand. Miarka, the girl, might not even make it past the heights test. You may be back here before you know it.

Or I may stay in training on my own and join the Viszudar, Anna said solemnly.

Do not enter the Viszudar because you think it is expected of you, Marta said with sharp and characteristic sternness.

But it is what I’ve been training for, Anna said as her thinking began to circle around some still missing piece.

Again, that does not make it inevitable, her mother repeated.

Even if we give you that impression, Marta added.

So I should not listen to your advice? Anna asked Marta with a grin.

Of course you should! Marta countered. My advice to you is to not listen to my advice. I am biased toward seeing you succeed in the Viszudar. Of course I think you should join.

But we also fully understand this needs to be your decision, Anna, her mother added. Do not go that way because of us. I want you to as well, but I want you to do that only if you believe it is the right decision.

But I trust your judgment more than I trust my own, Anna countered. How can I make this decision without considering your opinion?

Marta smiled. That’s a good question to ask yourself.

And what is the answer? Anna asked.

Not all questions have answers, Anna, her mother said, taking a drink. Good questions often lead to other questions.

Just be careful you don’t end up going around in circles, Marta warned.

Anna stared at her empty bowl. I’m going to take that advice, she said, now considering Marta’s request in light of all that was said. When do you need an answer?

Sooner rather than later, Marta replied. I would not mind a few days’ rest, or—pointing with her chin at the pitcher—another taste of that excellent juice. Now tell me about this boy, she said, leaning forward and dropping her voice into a playful whisper. A good match is not as important here as it is in the A-Beru, but it doesn’t hurt either!

CHAPTER 2

A nna woke slowly to the smells of cooking drifting up to her sleeping loft. Like the house itself, the loft was larger than most in the village and could easily have fit several children, but like all the others it was located at the opposite end of the house from the adult sleeping loft. Living close to water had taught the Kishtar, river and sea people alike, to sleep as high off the ground as possible.

Her hunger woke with her because whatever was cooking wasn’t from the sea. Old Marta had brought something with her from somewhere. Still half-asleep, Anna thought back to living with Old Marta and the constant flow of visitors bringing strange food from the other kingdoms, like dried meat from the slopes of the A-Beru, and different nuts from the Peesh-rak; Old Marta had insisted she try them all to be polite.

It seemed incredibly early to the still half-sleeping Anna. Does everyone in the Viszudar get up so early? she wondered, rolling defiantly toward the wall. The boats have probably not even set out to sea yet! Her mind wandered easily to the memory of Nicco casting his net for bait last evening.

Her stomach grumbled, encouraged by the smell. She could hear her mother and Old Marta talking, but could not make out what they were saying over the noise of the meat cooking. What would it be like to live where they eat this food every day? she mused, wondering who from the other kingdoms would be in the training with her. The diet of the Kishtar came primarily from the water, either from the sea or the river, although most of the river catch went to feed the other kingdoms. Would the fish taste different there?

She was awake now, and the light told her it was not that early. A bubble of laughter rose from below, reminding Anna of the comfortable relationship Old Marta and her mother shared. Anna smiled as she rolled over to go back to sleep. What if they don’t save any of that for me? That was enough to get her to jump from bed and scamper down to the main floor of the house.

Anna’s appearance at the bottom of the ladder surprised her mother, but not Marta. It’s called ‘bacon,’ Marta answered without waiting to be asked. It comes from the wild pigs that feed on the mast and acorns in the Peesh-rak. It doesn’t take skellet, so I was not sure if it would go bad before I got here.

It sure doesn’t smell like it went bad, Anna said enthusiastically. How did you come by it?

One of the Ghun’dar I served with many times has settled out just inside the Peesh-rak. He hunted the pig and gave me the cheeks, Marta explained.

Reya teased with a cooing sound as Anna furrowed her brow. She did not understood how the elite, secretive military force worked with the Viszudar, and the idea of a continuing relationship only added to her confusion.

They never stop sniffing around, Marta said in explanation, and Anna, embarrassed, turned quickly to set the table.

They lingered over the wonderful bacon, shorebird eggs and fresh bread until, at Marta’s suggestion they walked down to the huge stone quay. The large boats that fished far out in the open sea were long gone, and the quay was empty except for a beautiful sloop at the far end. Anna and Reya eyed it longingly, wanting to be invited aboard so they could be out at sea.

Marta was from the Marutu, and although she had been in the Kishtar for most of her life, she had never gained the taste for the sea that someone who grows up at the shore comes by naturally. She was content to find a comfortable place among the rocks near the shore end and warm herself in the midmorning sun.

They sat for a long while, Marta sunning herself, Reya watching the sloop rest against the quay, Anna lost in her thoughts. The calls of shore birds mingled with the music of the waves and the intermittent noise of the shipyards drifting in from much farther to the east.

I’ve decided to join the class, Anna said, surprising herself with the clear assurance of her announcement.

Marta did not even move her head, but her eyes opened and fixed on Anna with a tin stare. The old woman’s full powers of observation evaluated the young girl. Anna could see her mother was doing exactly the same, softened only slightly because she was her daughter.

Good. I’m glad, Marta said somewhat casually, closing her eyes again and shifting slightly on the rock. What took you so long to decide?

Anna could not tell if Old Marta was serious or kidding. I have to work on that, she thought, but she answered the question as if it were asked seriously.

I was afraid, she said simply, and knowing this would not be sufficient by itself pushed herself to continue, hoping that the words would come as she spoke. I was—I am, she corrected herself, afraid of being separated from Nicco. I can picture my life with him, and I don’t know what will happen when I go away, if I will continue to feel the same way, or if he will. I may be sacrificing more than I intend by going, and that took a while to accept.

Anna’s mother was about to speak, but Marta looked at her and held her in check. Anna saw the gesture and understood that Old Marta wanted her to continue. Her mind flew into a flurry, thinking about what her mother intended to say and Old Marta’s reasons for stopping her. Focus on the task at hand, she told herself, repeating the mantra of her early lessons as she let the feathery distractions settle down.

I’m worried what the other candidates will think of me. I’m well liked here in the Sea Village, at the Kingdom Center as well, for that matter. And no, she said directly to her mother, "I don’t take that for granted, but I do like the fact that that’s how people see me. But the other trainees won’t be from the Kishtar. They won’t know me at all. What if they think I am some little fish from a salty backwater?

The Viszudar scares me too. They always have. I mean, you two don’t, but some of the others are so harsh, it’s like they look right through me. There, Anna thought with a sense of accomplishment, I got that out without crying, although tears did start to well up at the unbidden memory of one particular incident when she tried to lie to one of the Dovarsha’s advisors.

Neither woman spoke, and it took Anna a moment to realize they expected her to continue. Her emotions whipped around with her thoughts, and she felt herself starting to run away into anger. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and thought, Harness them.

I’m afraid of looking into the Bowl of Tears, she said, understanding the near heresy of her words. I know the Bowl is one of the ways the Dovarsha-Issin communicates with her servants, and so there can’t be anything bad in it, but it still scares me.

You’re right to be scared, Marta said with scorn bordering on contempt. You keep coming back to the same way of thinking whenever we talk about the Bowl. You should be frightened that you cannot grow in your thinking.

Anna, her mother joined in gently, the Bowl is not safe, but that does not mean you should fear it.

You won’t gain anything from it with your poor approach anyway, Marta said dismissively.

You told me it takes over you, Anna said with some awe.

I told you that you need to learn to submit yourself to it, Marta said with considerably more softness. That is not the same thing at all.

I don’t understand the difference, Anna said bluntly.

Obviously, Marta answered with greater bluntness.

Thinking the Bowl takes over you ignores the nature of the Dovarsha-Issin, Reya explained.

She has the right to rule, Anna countered.

And the respect she has for servants means that she does not demand that right, Marta said with a sigh. This is not about the Bowl of Tears, Anna. She looked at Anna with the tin eye again and did not put the question into words.

Anna froze and shattered inside. The tormenting shards forced her eyes shut in pain. She struggled, but if she’d had her eyes open she would have seen both women almost cheering for her.

Eventually the torment passed and she faced its source. She wiped away a tear and spoke softly. I am afraid that I am going to disappoint the two of you. She felt naked and hated it.

Marta could not stop Reya, who rushed to her daughter and wrapped her in a protective hug. You are, and always will be, my daughter, she whispered as she wiped away