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    The Child Rowanda, Little Dragon: The Child Rowanda Series, #1
    The Child Rowanda, Little Dragon: The Child Rowanda Series, #1
    The Child Rowanda, Little Dragon: The Child Rowanda Series, #1
    Ebook117 pages1 hour

    The Child Rowanda, Little Dragon: The Child Rowanda Series, #1

    By Carole Walker Carter

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    About this ebook

    Twelve-year-old Rowanda lives with her mother in the lush garden country of Neslora. Seemingly an idyllic world with endlessly blooming flowers, buzzing bees and birds chirping, Rowanda and her friends are confronted with the horror of the abduction of their mothers. Rowanda finds herself confronted with the daunting task to find and rescue her mother and the mothers of her friends. A tyrant king abducted and transported the mothers to a desert world where they are being held as slaves. Armed only with four talismans, chosen from many by mystical means, Rowanda goes through a portal to Arolsen where her fate is intermingled with two desert dwellers. Together they join forces to brave the desert, defending themselves from nomads, terrible creatures and scorching desert days and frigid desert nights to rescue Rowanda's mother. The palace city reveals the true identities of Rowanda's traveling companions and the reasons they accompanied her on her quest.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherWalker Carter Publishing, LLC
    Release dateAug 27, 2018
    ISBN9781386906728
    The Child Rowanda, Little Dragon: The Child Rowanda Series, #1
    Author

    Carole Walker Carter

    Carole is from a small Mid-Western town in Nebraska.  Over a thirty-year period Carole lived in diverse living situations, from California to Texas and the Midwest. Meeting many fascinating characters and recognized for a vivid imagination, Carole wrote secretly for many years enjoying Science Fiction, Fantasy, Mystery and Children's literature as a platform for expressive writing. Carole lives presently in the Pacific Northwest with her husband, Don her childhood sweetheart, partner, and editor, their dogs, chickens and many fish. As a teaching assistant, Carole teaches Literacy to ‘at risk’ children in grades one through five.

    Read more from Carole Walker Carter

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      Book preview

      The Child Rowanda, Little Dragon - Carole Walker Carter

      Chapter One

      Lush gardens, with colorful flowers, was Rowanda's home. With bees buzzing and birds chirping, she cheerily danced in the thick green grass, and new buds opened with each step. Other children ran merrily amongst the ferns, dodging each other as they played games with excited trills emanating from their lips.

      A group of women, mothers, and wives, were sitting near a pond, occasionally glancing in the direction of the gardens to watch the children at play. Mostly, they were enjoying the sun on their faces and the quiet conversations. Soon the children would gravitate to the pond for lunch, but in the meantime, the morning was lazy and pleasant.

      The children's game took them out of sight. Concern did not cross the faces of the women. They knew their children were in no danger. Their world was safe.

      As the sun traveled directly above and warmed the land below, the children slowed their games and started to complain about being hungry. Like a flock of birds, they banned together and headed towards the pond as a group. Lunch would be spread out on the blankets, and their mothers would be waiting patiently.

      Coming out of the trees and ferns and into the clearing near the pond, the children stopped and viewed the surrounding area. Their mothers were nowhere in sight. The picnic lunch was scattered across the blankets, plates, and bowls broken into pieces upon the ground.

      Mama! Mama! Where are you? cried one small boy as he ran to the blankets crumpled in a pile. The entire picnic area showed signs of struggle and distress.

      The other children took up the call. "Mama! Mama.

      Chapter Two

      A meeting was called, and all the adults gathered in the Community Hall. The children were present to tell what they knew of the circumstance. A tall older woman sat at the head of a table. She directed her questions towards Rowanda, the oldest of the children who were playing when the mothers disappeared.

      Rowanda, child, when did you last see your mothers and what were they doing? Emeraza asked in a calm, clear voice. She watched all the children but paid close attention to Rowanda's answer.

      Mam, the last time any of us saw our mothers was shortly before noon. We were playing tag, and Calleja ran further into the garden and away from the pond. As I glanced towards the pond before pursuing Calleja, I saw our mothers sitting quietly on the blankets, talking to each other. That is the last time I saw them. A quiet sob accompanied the last words.

      Emeraza allowed Rowanda a moment to calm herself before asking the next question. What time did you return to the blankets and what did you see?

      The other children started to interject, but Emeraza stopped their voices with a raised hand. Just Rowanda for the moment, children.

      Rowanda looked directly at the older woman who sat straight in her chair. Glancing around, Rowanda noticed all the eyes were on her. Feeling self-conscious, Rowanda looked down at her folded hands in her lap and answered the question.

      It was noontime. We were all hungry, and we knew our mothers had prepared a picnic lunch for us. We ran as a group over the bridge towards the pond, but when we came to the clearing, our mothers were nowhere in sight. The blankets were crumpled, and the dishes were tipped over or broken. The food was lying on the ground or spilled out on the blankets. I saw nothing else. There was no one in sight in any direction. We called and called for our mothers, but we got no answers. Tears welled in Rowanda's eyes, and teardrops fell onto her folded hands.

      Several of the adults talked in soft voices, and Emeraza ordered silence. Directing several of the grandmothers to take the children to their homes, the remaining adults gathered around the table near Emeraza.

      Salitha took Rowanda's hand. Come with me, Child of my Heart. I will fix some food, and then you can lay down and rest. It has been a stressful day for you.

      Rowanda could see the grief in her grandmother's eyes. Rowanda was old enough to know that her grandmother loved her mother as much as Rowanda did. Realizing she was not the only one who was afraid for her mother caused Rowanda to squeeze her grandmother's hand.

      Don't worry, Grandmother. I will find Mama for you.

      Salitha smiled warmly. I know you will, Dear.

      Entering the cottage, Rowanda let her eyes gaze upon the familiar rooms. She had stayed with her grandmother many times in her twelve years of life. The sitting room was small, as was the whole cottage, but the chairs were soft and comfortable. The little wooden table with the four chairs placed at each side held a jar with flowers. The flowers had not been changed for years but stayed fresh and fragrant with a touch of her grandmother's hand.

      Peering out of the window, Rowanda saw vines that crept across the outside walls adorned with giant flowers trumpeting amongst the creeping leaves. Often birds and butterflies would frequent the flowers and Rowanda would smile with how contented the creatures seemed to be.

      Today, she saw no butterflies or birds. She was sure all creatures felt her despair and were tucked safely in their hollows. Maybe they foresaw what would happen to the mothers and were afraid.

      The grandmother carried a plate of fruit and cheese and placed it in front of Rowanda. Salitha sat down across from Rowanda and watched her eat.

      Grandmother, what do you think happened to Mama? She just disappeared. Where could she be? Concern trickled from Rowanda's lips.

      I can't say, Child. It will be up to Emeraza to provide clarity. She will tell you what she wants to tell you. You will need to be patient until that time. Rowanda's grandmother replied tentatively.

      But Grandmother, it is Mama we are talking about. Someone needs to find her. She could be in danger. No one just disappears! She must be somewhere. Why can't you tell me more? Rowanda complained.

      I just can't. For one thing, I don't know anything. I can tell you this has happened before. The last time was twelve years ago. No one provided any answers then, but now.... Salitha let the remaining words stay clamped in her mouth. It is not for me to say what I don't know.

      Rowanda knew that no matter how much she pressed, her grandmother would not say another word out of respect or was it fear. Rowanda could not tell, but she knew her grandmother knew more than she was saying.

      Eating the rest of her meal in silence, Rowanda pondered what the rest of the story might be. Who would know the answers and how could she find out?

      Gathering the plate and cup from the table, Salitha suggested Rowanda lay down in the bedroom and rest for a while. The morning events were stressful, and rest would do Rowanda good.

      Rowanda did not argue. She needed time alone to try to figure out what might have happened to her mother and the mothers of her playmates.

      Closing the bedroom door slowly, Rowanda fell upon the overstuffed mattress. The coverlet was soft but old. Frayed edges revealed use for many years. Picking at threads, Rowanda played out the scene in the clearing, hoping to find an overlooked clue.

      There was a struggle. That was obvious from the disarray of the lunch items and blankets. No screams where heard, but Rowanda thought, we may have been too far away to hear.

      Suddenly, a glimpse of brown grass in a sea of green flashed into Rowanda's eyes. A sizeable patch of grass was dead. 'Odd, I didn't notice that before.' Rowanda thought to herself. 'It must mean something, but what? Why would the grass die instantly? What shape did it take? Think, Rowanda, think.' Chided Rowanda in her mind.

      Getting up from the bed, Rowanda looked out into the sitting room to see if her grandmother was nearby. Wanting to slip away unnoticed was important

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