Post: Reply | Quote

Brad

I've had to stop myself reading or I won't get anything else done during my lunch break. So I will print out and let you know my humble thoughts tomorrow hopefully (if I don't get too tired after training tonight).

Post: Reply | Quote

Hey Brad,

Finally read all of it, it was FANTASTIC !! Loved every minute of it, umm will send you an e-mail of some other things that I had to comment on, so will talk to you more about it to...

One other thing - the prologue, thats like a teaser isn't it, its not actually part of the novel but it is something to come

Have I got that right ???

Post: Reply | Quote

Thanks, Snowy!!

I appreciate the read and your kind comments. Yes, feel free to send me some email and we can discuss offline a little (bbeaulieu@access360.com).

Yes, the prologue was a teaser. These little pictures of the gods show up a few more times in the course of the novel as interludes and then at the end as a prologue. The gods' tale surrounds the mortals' tale in these little, not-so-clear bits.

Cheers,

Brad.

Post: Reply | Quote

Ok, I'll just post one chapter just to see what people think about the book. Feel free to comment or just enjoy. I'm always looking for criticism, so feel free to redpen as much as you want...

==============================================

Prologue

Keena, Goddess of Birth and Light, dreamed, but as was so often true of late, it was of her father’s death.

Yenrir gazed upon Keena with half-lidded eyes. Loneliness and yearning swept through her as she stared at his forlorn expression. Blood trailed from the corner of one eye. His mottled skin could only give thought to death, not the life that Keena wished for every time she saw him again.

A booted foot invaded the vision to step next to the head, kicking up brown dust. Only then did Keena realize there was no body attached to Yenrir’s head.

“Father!” she screamed, hoping he would speak to her.

A gauntleted hand reached down to grab Yenrir’s golden hair and lift the head up. She could see her brother beyond, clothed in bright mail and blood, smiling at her terror.

“It’s no less than he deserved,” Phanu said.

Keena couldn’t speak. She was held powerless before Phanu’s mischief.

Phanu reared back with his grip holding her dear father and whipped the head out over a cliff’s edge. Her vision followed the grisly head, locked to it in a deadly embrace as they spiraled down together. She floated before Yenrir’s eyes and could only watch his pained expression as the world flew by them.

Yenrir’s eyes snapped open. Keena jumped in fright. His mouth formed slowly around two words: “Save me.”

Keena struck the ground and she woke sweating in her room. Belying the horror of moments ago, early morning was just breaking through the tall windows. Suffused yellow sunlight lit the golden frescoes of the ceiling as a calm breeze tugged at the curtains. For long moments the simple images turned fearful for her waking mind, but reality slowly returned.

“Father,” she said, sitting up in her bed. “I’ll find you.”

Keena tied her damp hair into a mangy tail and slipped on sandals. She left her room, padding silently towards the central courtyard. In short order, Keena stood at the entrance to Naeal’s grand garden, glancing about for anyone who might be watching. The paths roaming through the flowers and trees seemed blessedly quiet. Herons called and rosewood bloomed, but none of this registered with her senses.

She took a particular path, heading for the rear of the garden, where the end of her trail rested. After opening an ancient gate, she stepped inside the small enclosure. Gravel crunched underfoot until she took a seat on the marble bench surrounding a small pool--no wider than Keena’s outstretched arms.

She gave the pool a long stare, unsure how to begin now that she’d worked up the nerve to come. The pool gave her visions. Visions that one could interpret, but they had their dangers. If one didn’t give what was witnessed the right distance, the right perspective, the viewer could too often paint them the way they wished, not how they were meant.

Two ages had passed since she’d looked upon the surface of the small pool, for her confidence had been shaken utterly the last time she’d used it.

She breathed deeply and steeled herself. The time had come to see what had been troubling her sleep so often of late.

Just as Keena began clearing her mind, the gate gave the smallest creak, and she looked up with a start. Her sister, Gistala, strolled around the ferns at the far end and walked towards her. As she approached, Keena turned her gaze back to the water and could see Gistala in the wavering reflection. Keena gave her sister a soft smile, embarrassed.

Gistala smirked at her sister. “Unfit for birds, is it?”

“I was angry then. It may have one or two more useful purposes.”

“You’ve dreamed again.”

It was a statement, but Keena still answered. “I have.”

Gistala was clothed in feather-light folds of green silk and her dark hair was tied high. She walked closer to the pool to gaze upon the surface. “You’re willing to trust it?”

“I don’t have a choice anymore. I need to do something.”

“What are you looking for?” Gistala asked.

“I look for nothing. I wait to be shown.”

“Ah, you may have learned then. That’s good. What do you see?”

Keena gazed back upon the surface of the water. She dipped her finger in the center, and the ripples spread out and back again. On the surface of the water formed a waving vision that cleared as the movement subsided. A battle raged on Erecia, the land of mortals. Little detail could be seen, for the viewpoint was so high, but a moment later, it lowered to float amongst the fields. The vision flew slowly above the death being dealt everywhere.

For death she cared little. She understood the cycle and accepted it. Welcomed it. What hovered in the pool, however, was the forming of a dark cloud--an expanding circle of fog that grew to frame a gateway above the battle. There stood a woman, dealing death and calling a name: Phanu. A name Keena would prefer not to hear, especially from the lips of the mortals.

She’d hoped that he would drift into obscurity, that only a rare few would remember him, but all along she knew it wouldn’t be so; that one such as he couldn’t be forgotten. The mortals were too greedy. They craved for things beyond them, things that perhaps even the gods shouldn’t possess.

The vision rippled once again and was gone. She had known this time might come, that her failure could one day come back to haunt her.

“The day approaches, hmm?” Gistala said.

“Yes, there’s little time now. There’s so much to do, and I’ve wasted these years. They’re unprepared for this, you know.” Keena looked at her expectantly. “How much time before it comes to be?”

Gistala frowned at her younger sister and stepped near the edge of the pool. “You know I cannot answer. The answer would change the outcome, perhaps not in your favor. You’ve made no preparations?”

“I’ve made some, but not enough. Can you tell where Derala is?”

“Derala, no. I’ve lost her for some time now. But Phanu, him I have my finger upon. He lies in his realm and toys as he always does. He’s nearly completed the reconstruction he began so long ago.”

“Maybe this occurs when it’s complete?” Keena asked.

Gistala looked at her blankly.

“Fine. Do nothing, as always. If this must happen, I’ll not be caught again in the same way. Phanu will pay for all he’s done to us.”

“I care nothing for revenge. I only wish for peace among us.”

“Phanu allows no peace, Gistala. How can you ignore all he’s done?”

“I don’t ignore it, but neither do I dwell upon it. What’s done is done, and there’s little you or I can do about it. Accept our fates and move on.”

“Our father’s been taken these long years and our mother is mad. How can I accept this? The fates are too cruel, sister. I know that Phanu has him somewhere. I know it.”

“As you’ve always said, but I still disagree. I’ve never been able to find him, not one single glimmer, since Phanu and Derala took him. They killed him, Keena. When will you come to grips with that?”

“Not until I see his dead form. Kinri agrees with me.”

“As she always has. Kinri has no mind of her own where you’ve spoken first.”

Keena glared at her for a moment more, but the goddess cooled quickly. This was not the direction she wished to go. “Peace, sister. I will not accept this fate. He won’t win this time, and we will take back what’s ours.”

Gistala bent down and dipped her own finger into the water. The ripples grew and Keena leaned over anxiously, waiting for the vision that Gistala’s finger would draw forth. Nothing came. Her obvious look of disappointment made her sister chuckle in sympathy. “Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps you do have to take this into your own hands.”

Gistala turned and strode from the enclosure, her gossamer cloak flowing in her wake.

Keena looked back to the pool but refrained from touching the surface. She’d been given what the pool had chosen, and she would not spurn it. “There’s much to do,” she told it, standing to leave as well.

==============================================

Chapter 1 ~ Damon

Kyva’s streets were warm for the first time since the new year, and I was heading indoors, most likely until dark. Pools of melted snow dotted the street. I pulled Kress’s reins to skirt the messiest as we made our way towards Kyva’s grand hall, shlooshing sounds coming with each rhythm forward.

The hall’s golden dome reflected the morning sunlight as Kress trotted along the carriage circle, hooves scrunching the snow and gravel as we approached.

A few coaches were pulling away, surely some of the last for I was quite late--I had only received the message early in the morning hours, so I could hardly be blamed for that. Thankfully, a few stable hands still waited for any latecomers to arrive. Perhaps a dozen men milled about the entrance, but the rest had apparently gone inside already. A familiar figure pulled away from the pack, heading towards the entrance to the hall.

“Gared, wait,” I said.

Gared turned, mouth pinching in annoyance. “Hurry up, Damon, it’s starting.”

“I know,” I said, turning Kress over to a stable boy and ran up the stairs to walk beside Gared. We continued up while I brushed as much of the snow and mud off my doeskin leggings as I could.

In stark contrast, Gared wore a clean white cloak over tan damask robes, perhaps a bit more proper for the Valon council.

“You could at least dress the part, Damon.”

“Sorry. I didn’t have time. I only received the message this morning.”

“Because you were late there, too.”

“Unavoidable, my good man. Can’t leave such things in disarray.”

“Well, perhaps not, but it’s bad timing, just the same.”

“The message said that King Morrik requested our presence. Have you heard any more?”

“I have, but it’d take too long to explain. You’ll have to catch up inside.” Gared lowered his voice and leaned in close. “Just keep your mouth shut.”

What did that mean?

We headed in through the ornate oak doors. Once the last of the council members had hung their cloaks, we did the same and trailed behind them through the inner doors.

The oval state room opened up before us, sound echoing about the room as people moved to their seats, chatting about the latest news from their Valons. Since the room dropped at each seating level to the speaking dais, we could see the entire assemblage rumbling about below us.

Thick oak timbers supported the walls every five paces, and violet pennants trailed them from ceiling to eye-level. The domed ceiling painted light over the room from the windows at the apex. Revolving around the skylights were several of the most famous battles from the ancient war against Ramidia, each rendered in vivid detail.

Though we’d just arrived and the meeting had yet to begin, the tension in the room was thick. The Valor of Tygus, Reive Tygus, was on the speaker’s platform--chomping at the bit to begin. The podium itself was a bit small, but he paced back and forth nonetheless.

Did my presence have something to do with Reive, I thought.

Against all tradition, Reive wore Tygus’ seal on his doublet--crossed swords on a yellow, checkered field. The Valors were to think of Vaeland, not their respective Valons, in this hall.

Surprise caught me when I realized all twelve Valors were in attendance. The Valon councils, held every three months, often had at least one or two Valors missing--sometimes as many as five or six. The Valors would send chancellors in their place, especially the ones furthest from Kyva. The feeling of being out of touch grew as I realized how unprepared I was for this.

Gared and I had quickly taken seats near the back of the room. The crowd reached a relative level of order, at which point a door opened to the far left of the room. King Morrik Vennala strode in wearing full regalia. He wore a rich purple surcoat over silk tunic and black breeches. The Vaeland gryphon reared on his left chest and the simple golden crown rested on his tightly cropped head.

The King’s high riding boots sounded over the burgundy-stained planks as he walked to the center of the dais below. The commotion and hubbub rose as the rest of the room stood.

Everyone looked to the copy of the Signus framed on the wall and kissed their right fist. “To Vaeland, we give our lives,” the room said. Morrik dropped his fist and turned to the assemblage. All hands were now cupped in front of them. “To the King, we pledge heart and family.”

With that done, everyone took his seat and Morrik sat on the throne to the left.

As soon as the room had calmed, Reive jumped right in. “My King, now that we’re here, I’d like to reopen the petition for more men.” Though the room was large, sound traveled amazingly well.

King Morrik glanced to the ceiling, looking for patience. “Reive, this has gone on for a bit long, don’t you think?”

“Yes, sire. I’ve been saying the same thing for three days now, but I’ve heard no reason to deny my request. I only wish to have a portion of the Kyvan Guard to help with the borders. I don’t understand why they can’t be freed.”

King Morrik shook his head lightly, as though he addressed a child. “Reive, please, we must get beyond this. How many Ramidian border patrols have you seen in the past months?”

Reive bowed his head, obviously sick of this line of reasoning. His voice had half the energy of only moments ago. “Perhaps a few more than normal.”

“And how many have actually crossed?”

“None.”

“So I fail to understand why any of the guard need to be freed for your Valon.”

“Because they are preparing for war. They wouldn’t send border guards over when they might invade. We’ve heard endless rumors of their army marshalling. It’s only a matter of time.”

Morrik bristled at Reive’s tone. “We’ve had ambassadors visiting over the last several months, but nothing has given us any reason to think that they’re ready to invade. Our own trips to Ramidia have shown the same. What reason could they have to attack?”

“What reason? The talks with Tirinia, Sire. They can’t allow the ore to be given to us alone. I would do the same were I the Emperor.”

The crowd murmured and Morrik sat up stiffly in his chair. What in the hells was Reive trying to do?

“Those are treasonous words, Tygus.”

“Treasonous? No. What would you do if Ramidia were receiving all of the ore from Tirinia?”

“I would learn my lesson and get to them sooner. They had the same opportunity to negotiate.”

“That’s beside the point. It’s suicide if they don’t. They must attack. They’re--”

“No, they mustn’t. Thank the All-Father you’re not Ramidia’s Emperor, or I fear the war you speak of would have started long ago. I gave you this one last time to speak out of courtesy, but you’re trying my patience. We’ve heard your petition, and if you’re quite through, then we can put it to a final vote. Now, if you’ve nothing further...” Morrik looked at him expectantly.

Reive stood gripping the podium fiercely, jaw set. “I wish to call Gared Vyndus to testify.”

The whole audience talked among themselves and turned, looking to our seats. I stared at Gared, completely surprised at such a request, but apparently he wasn’t shocked in the least, for he stood and walked down the central aisle without even a raised eyebrow.

I felt tense, but neither Gared nor Morrik seemed the least bit perturbed. Surely, they’d talked beforehand.

Heads as well as whispers followed his walk to the witness’s chair, curious as to what Reive might have up his sleeve. This was obviously why I had been summoned as well, and I began to understand where Reive was headed.

Gared settled into the chair and waited calmly.

“Gared, you were among the ambassadors to the talks with Tirinia.”

“I was.”

Reive stepped down from his podium and paced in front of Gared’s chair. “Please tell us the purpose of your visit.”

“We were there to negotiate the rights to Tirinia’s teagan ore. I’d been--”

“No, you missed my meaning. I want to know what your purpose was at that meeting.”

“As a simple advisor to the King. Kona could not make the trip, and I was the most logical choice to give advice on how we might use the ore.”

Reive looked dejected at the answers that Gared was giving, but he continued. “Didn’t you meet with one of their dukes? Tuevos, I believe?”

Gared didn’t hesitate for a second--he lied right to Reive’s face. “I did not. We met, certainly, at the talks, but other than that, no.”

“The death of Tuevos, then. Can you tell us what you know of it?”

“A shame, truly. It was an utter shock to everyone there. He’d apparently raised the ire of a rival importer. He was found dead with the other man’s dagger in his heart.”

Reive shook his head and walked away from him, pacing in front of the assembly for tense seconds. “You may leave, Gared. May I have Damon Vensson, please?” He asked it politely, but there was already defeat in his voice.

Gared stepped down and walked back to the audience while I moved forward, feeling uncomfortable under the stares of the crowd. The Valors in particular seemed to gaze at me intently; I felt that simply meeting their eyes would give them the answers they sought, so I focused on the floor in front of my feet.

Murmurs crescendoed as we passed each other on the stairs. I looked up and Gared was staring at me sternly. He gave me the slightest shake of his head.

I took the seat and waited uncomfortably, embarrassed at the state of my clothes.

Reive paced before me, and for the first time I could see his face closely. There was desperation in it. He was practically begging me to tell the truth.

Reive had my respect, and I didn’t wish to hurt him or his cause, but sadly, I would do no such thing.

“Damon, you were with the group as well, weren’t you?”

“I was,” I said.

“Can you tell everyone what your purpose was at the talks?”

“As an ambassador.”

Reive knew then. He’d get nowhere with any of this, but to his credit, he continued. “But you didn’t even assist, did you?”

“Yes, you’re right. Ambassador was how I was introduced, but actually, I had little true purpose. An observer, mostly.”

“So why go?”

“It was a favor actually. I’d heard much of the teagan mines, and I was hoping to see some of the ore, perhaps the mines themselves. It was only a personal favor of the King.” I gave King Morrik a kind nod, trying to complete the lie as best I could. I hoped no one noticed my nervous fidgeting.

“Can you shed any light on Tuevos?”

“None whatsoever. I was housed on the far side of Rhyvian. I only heard about it second-hand, and barely that. I left the day his body was discovered.”

“But where were you the night of the murder?”

The rumble in the room rose to its highest volume yet.

“Enough,” Morrik said, anger tainting his tone. “You’ll not continue, Reive, unless you have some proof for such accusations.”

Reive deflated completely. He came close to my chair and leaned over. “Gods damn the both of you, Damon. I’ll remember this day and repay your deeds.”

I tried to meet his eyes, but found that I could not. Embarrassment was flooding me, and I didn’t dare see if Reive could sense it. That moment was one of the lowest of my life, truth to tell.

“I’ve nothing further, Damon.”

I left with relief and took to the stairs, returning to sit near Gared.

“Well, I hope that wraps this issue up, Reive. We really must get back to more important matters. Shall we vote?”

“Damn the vote. We all know how it will go, but I’m not through, Morrik.” There were some gasps and hushed conversation at Reive’s tone and missing honorific. “I didn’t want it to come to this, but you and your ridiculous lackeys have forced it.” He gave a long glance to the assembly, Gared and I included. “I’m issuing a challenge, to be performed as soon as the Signus allows it.”

Gods, what was Reive thinking? The entire assembly started talking openly, and little could be heard over the roar of it. A challenge hadn’t been issued in lifetimes, only three times in the entire life of Vaeland. The King was only given the throne for six years. When his reign had passed, challenges were made in the Chamber of Kyva to decide a new one. But Vaeland’s covenant, the Signus, allowed for challenges outside of the King’s sixth anniversary, provided four other Valors supported him.

Still, even if Reive had his support, how could he hope to win against the King? King Morrik had already stood up to four others in the Chamber and won each time. Decidedly.

Nearly everyone in the roomed seemed shocked, but there were a few that seemed rather calm. Daryn Renya and Markh Argus were cool as summer tea, but this surprised no one. They’d long been Tygus’ staunchest allies, especially since the talks with Tirinia. The King as well, appeared to be unruffled, but shaking Morrik’s feathers was difficult to say the least.

Two others, though, were conspicuously collected. Mensha Nivaul--shrewd but lacking conviction--was talking calmly with his uncle, and Helgen Korvella, sitting with her hands in her lap, talking to no one.

King Morrik sat on the throne and waited for a semblance of calm to return to the room. As it did, he raised his voice, “The Signus demands four supporters, Tygus. Where are yours?”

“They’re here,” Reive said, stepping to the side and motioning to the Valors nearest him.

Young Daryn Renya stood. “I support Tygus’ claim to the throne.”

The rotund form of Markh Argus stood next to him. “Argus supports as well.”

But that was where Reive’s allies ended. Reive turned red and gawked open-mouthed at Helgen and Mensha. Reive leaned in to talk to Helgen, but with his embarrassment, the words still carried. “Helgen, please. Don’t give in. The kingdom needs this.”

Helgen wouldn’t meet his eye. She said something, but I couldn’t catch the words.

Reive turned his head and looked to his last hope. Perhaps if he could turn Mensha, Helgen would follow. “Mensha?”

Mensha only stared straight forward, saying nothing.

King Morrik grew more smug with each passing second. “It seems, good Valor, that your support is a bit weak. I admire your courage, but Valor is what you’ll stay. Now, we really must get back to proper business. I don’t imagine you’ll be staying, so you are excused.” The King gave an off-handed wave in Reive’s direction with those last words.

Reive said not one more word and took to the stairs, heading straight for the exit. His retinue as well as those of Argus and Renya began preparations to follow right behind him. He spared one last glance for Gared and me. The look he gave us was pained, but there was vengeful anger in those eyes, too. I’ll remember this day, they said, and repay it, pound for pound.



#



Later that day, I was expected at the castle to report to King Morrik. I still stung from the wrongs we’d all committed against Reive. I couldn’t say that I knew all the facts, but most of what Reive had said rang true. The tensions with Ramidia seemed real; even people in the streets and taverns were beginning to talk of it.

As I crossed the courtyard to the castle’s entrance, the sun’s orange glow peeked in and out of the battlements. I entered the castle proper and passed through several halls before descending two flights of stairs. The cool air of the castle’s lower levels greeted me before I walked the long hall to the ironbound door at the end.

This was the King’s audience room--not the one he accepts personal guests in. No, this was reserved for a very select few, Gared and I among them.

Two guards flanked the door, and both nodded as I approached. I returned the gesture and waited as the left one ducked inside the room to let the King know I had arrived. He returned to his post, but left the way open, giving the door a tilt of his head.

“My thanks,” I said, entering the fire-lit room. The pleasant smell of burning wood greeted me. The room was small, and nearly all the wall space was covered with tall bookcases. There were tomes, scrolls, and papers of every description among the shelves; none of it ever seemed to collect dust. On the far side was a fireplace with a healthy blaze playing within it.

Morrik, as usual, sat at his oval table writing things down in a tome bound by thick metal. The only sounds in the room were the whuffle and snap of the fire and the rat scratching of quill to paper.

The metal of the book he labored over was charred, for eventually Morrik would burn the paper and reuse the binding. He’d keep information only for so long as it was necessary, not wanting to leave too much information exposed to possible theft.

“Your highness.” I bowed and sat. Wine beckoned from a crystal decanter. I poured myself some, the red liquid gurgling, and waited for him to finish his latest entry and begin the questioning. The dipping and scratching of the ever-moving quill continued for quite some time, but this was customary.

He completed what he needed and then set the book aside, pulling a much smaller one from a shelf behind him to open it and find the next empty page.

He looked up and took a deep breath. “So, Damon. You’re back and well, I see.”

“I am.” I reached inside my doublet to an inner pocket, pulling out a small satchel wrapped by twine. I wanted to get right to business. “It’s here.”

Morrik’s eyes lit up, and he took the satchel gently. He set it before him and began untying the thread. “There were no difficulties?”

“None. I don’t think he’ll discover it for some time, if at all. The duplicate was a mirror image of that.”

The thread lay discarded, and Morrik’s hands pulled back the paper to reveal a platinum ring with three small rubies set in the center. Just looking at the thing raised my ire all over again.

“Good, very good. So tell me what was done.” Morrik set the ring aside and picked up his quill again. He took notes as I started to relay the mission I’d just completed.

“Orlini was delayed apparently, so there was even less resistance than I’d anticipated. I had the copy made from the normal source. The safe was in his warehouse, as you’d heard. There were only four guards, but they were lazy.”

The tink of the inkwell followed by more scratching followed my words.

“When?”

“Last night.” More scratching.

“What magical defenses?”

“Two--a ward around the office and a shroud over the safe. Average quality, nothing special. I dismantled both with little difficulty.”

“No trail to follow?”

“No. The exit was all too easy. They won’t be able to follow.”

“Good, good.” The King continued to write for some time after that, scribbling whatever he normally did. In my first few questionings, I’d taken the time to look at what he was writing, but it was never very interesting. Just notes from what Gared or I reported to him.

I didn’t much care what he wrote anymore; doing so only served to raise my annoyance at all of it.

“King Morrik?”

He grunted in reply.

“The council this morning.”

“Oh, yes. Sorry for the late notice. You were gone and Reive was demanding to question witnesses at the talks. You did well.”

“Why don’t we send the guard to the border? It seems only right.”

His head whipped up so fast it startled me. The look in his eyes was feral, like I was some beast treading on what was clearly his territory. “What makes you think I’d discuss such a thing with you?”

“I ... I don’t know. We discuss much down here. I just thought--”

“Stop, Damon. Yes, we’re free to talk about most anything in this room, but I’ve had just about enough of Reive and his sympathizers. Are you one of them now?”

“Well, no,” I said. “Not exactly.”

“You are or you are not.”

“I am not.”

He gave me one long stare. “Good, then I’ll expect the matter closed.”

“Yes, sire.” I’d rarely seen him so touchy. Sure, there were things he would divert me away from during conversations, but never had he outright forbade me to speak on a subject. Though Morrik was writing again, the air in the room had just become very tense. He was scribbling like he wanted to rip right through the paper with his quill.

I was saved from being further subjected to the awkwardness by the guard leaning into the room. “Gared Vyndus, sire.”

Morrik only nodded, not even looking up from his book.

A moment later, Gared walked in and took the seat next to me.

Morrik finalized his thoughts and turned to pull a new book from the case. This one had barely any writing in it. A new task, I thought.

He wrote only a few words on a blank page: February 22 of 813.

“So,” he said. “There’s something new for the two of you. Kona has uncovered a Ramidian here in Kyva spying for the Emperor. For obvious reasons, we can’t leave such a discovery unattended. You are to find and kill him, no later than tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow night?” I asked, incredulous at such a request.

“Yes.”

I could only guess that this was another vendetta of Morrik’s. This man had stepped on the King’s toes and now the King was making him pay. It was disgusting, but what was worse: him ordering it or me accepting?

I looked at Gared, and even he was a bit surprised. “Sire, that’s a bit short-noticed. A week would be better.”

“A week we don’t have. Tomorrow, no argument.”

“It might be better to just send the guard there,” I said. “Cut him to little pieces for everyone to see. It’ll be little better with no planning.”

“You don’t give yourself as much credit as I do, Damon. You two have always been up to the task.”

“Can we ask why the short notice?”

“No. All I can tell you is that he’s been here for some time, perhaps nine months or longer. He’s a practicing delver in the river bazaar, using the name Mirdan. Kona uncovered his real name, though: Danyk Mir. He won’t be difficult to find if you ask around a bit.”

“A mage?” Gared said.

“Apparently so, but we know of nothing beyond delving and setting up the shrouds that have hidden him this long.”

I looked to Gared, waiting for the signal that he was willing to accept, hoping he’d say no. He gave me the nod, but with a quizzical look on his face.

My own response was the last thing I wished for, but I found myself nodding just the same.

“Agreed,” Gared said.

King Morrik wrote a few more things, but in little time, he put the book away. “You may go,” he told us.

Gared and I left the room, and I stormed away. I was angry that I’d accepted another task from the King that seemed so petulant, so self-serving. I had little room to maneuver, though. My own agreement had sealed the bargain, after all.

“Damon, slow down.”

I kept moving.

Gared’s feet ran to catch up to me. “Damon, stop. What’s wrong?”

“It’s this gods-damned life, Gared. I can’t stand it anymore.”

“What do you mean? This has been your life for years.”

“And aren’t you sick of it? We’re nothing more than lackeys. Worse, we’re lackeys that kill at another man’s whim.”

“What brought this on?”

I took a deep breath before continuing. “Do you know what he had me do the other night?” Gared shook his head. “He had me steal a ring from the merchant, Orlini. A ring, Gared. I’m no better than a cutpurse in the muddy streets.”

“You protect the kingdom, Damon.”

“I did. Did, Gared. We haven’t done anything I could call honorable in years.”

“What do you mean? What about the mage near Goaja?”

“All right, one. But that’s it. The rest have become more and more petty, and you know it.”

“What I know is that I don’t know the rationale behind it. He’s our king. He’s fed information from a dozen other sources. How would we know whether what we’re doing is honorable or not?”

“Because of the way he acts. He doesn’t feel right lately. He’s off kilter.”

“You only think that. Morrik’s a good man. How can you doubt what he’s done in the past?”

“I acknowledge all of it. He’s done more for Vaeland than most, but those years are gone.” My next thought trudged through mud, wondering if it wanted to be voiced or not. “You’re too close to him. You want his approval too badly to see what’s happening.”

Gared furrowed his brow and stepped back. “I want his approval? I want no such thing.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but stopped, unsure if I wanted to take this further.

“Out with it, damn you.”

“Gared, I know you and your father didn’t.... Your days with him ... could have gone better. The King reminds me of him. You must see it, too, whether you can voice it or not.”

Gared’s face turned red in an instant. “King Morrik is not my father, you bitch’s son. My father can rot in the hell of his own making for what he did to me. I’d have killed him myself had he lived to see my naming day.”

Gods, I hadn’t expected this. I raised my hands in surrender. “I only meant that if you please the King--”

“I know what you meant. King Morrik has been a just king. He’s done us no harm. He’s pulled us out of the fire more times than I care to remember. If he chooses to hide his reasons from us, then so be it. I’ll live with his decisions so don’t paint me with that brush. You hate King Morrik so much that you can’t be objective anymore. If you’d climb a little bit from the morass you’ve created for yourself, you’d see it, too.”

Just like Gared to turn the tables on me. He was good at such things, where my mouth fumbled for words. I knew I was right, but I couldn’t find the right path to reveal the truth to Gared.

Instead of trying, I turned and began walking away. “Meet me in the morning and we’ll prepare,” I said.

Edited by: bbeaulieu at: 7/13/02 1:41:04 pm

Post: Reply | Quote

I will print this off and give you my opinion some time tonight if thats ok?

I will email the response to you if you like?

But, here is a quickie... you have captured the emotions well.. and the initial hook is great... I am off to read the rest.

Cheers
Steve

Post: Reply | Quote

BB couldn't find your e-mail anywhere so I am replying here... Hope you don't mind?

The word I would use to describe your writing is: ACCOMPLISHED. I was hooked for word KEENA (or word one) and I had to force my self from rushing... I wanted to savour every word, I loved it.

I noticed hardly any of your sentences were passive... which is far superior than my own writing. Well Done!

I found a few words mispelt (haha_ ) This could be because you are using American spelling and not English... so I could be wrong. I think they should be: Spiralled, New Year, Stateroom, Manoeuvre (it's french so should be same in American as in English i think?)

A few comma mistakes, still fewer than my own.
MORE SMUG.... should be SMUGGER Maybe?
Were in attendance... could be ATTENDED?

I am not sure crescendoed is a word... I will have to look that one up... I know crescendo is... but... I'll have to get back to you on that one.

Apostrophe use is in need of a refesh... unless you have deliberately used the contracted version for effect... I found it unsettling having ... He'd,... She'd etc here and there when they weren't spoken... opps i just did it.

It maybe that you intended it... so ignore my mutterings if that's the case.... done it again.

As for the story... It is superb. I am enthralled... you have talent (how old are you?). This work is brilliant in my humble opinion.

shlooshing sounds coming with each rhythm forward... this one line doesn't work for me... but it's your line... it's the shlooshing I think... although snow does shloosh... so i am not sure what the heck is wrong.. Just that it doesn't work for me.

Your imagery is fantastic, your characters beliveable, the dialogue excellent... I am in awe.

I think you should go for it... try for a publisher... I know if my writing was this good I would.

I hope you don't mind me thinking out loud about your writing.

Good luck with it.

Cheers
Steve

Post: Reply | Quote

Just copied this, will print in the AM and read then. *yawn* I might actually sleep tonight... Though from what Steve has said, if I was to start now, I wouldn't put it down. ">

I will get back to you with my thoughts.

..............................
it's getting hot in here
so take off all your clothes

Asteroid B-612

Post: Reply | Quote

err, read the prologue, but its too late now in the nite - so I'll read it later - I've copied this and will let you know shortly okay - talk soon (Looks great so far "> )

Post: Reply | Quote

Read it, enjoyed it immensely.

I think you've got a good begining here. Couldn't really find anything that jumped out at me that could be improved or changed. In fact, I got so caught up that when I got to the last page I had forgotten I didn't have the whole book and was disappointed that I couldn't read on!!

I like that you've given the gods such humanly attributes and emotions and situations to deal with. Refreshing.

Best of luck with finding an agent and then a publisher.

..............................
it's getting hot in here
so take off all your clothes

Asteroid B-612

Post: Reply | Quote

Hey, sorry I didn't put up my email. It's now in my profile, but I'll put it here, too: bbeaulieu@access360.com.

It's perfectly fine to post here, too, if you wish.

I thank anyone for their thoughts. Steve, nice writeup! Good comments, and I appreciate the time and effort. I'm 33, btw. ">

Cheers,

Brad.

Post: Reply | Quote

Thanks, Lisa! I appreciate the read and your impressions on it.

Cheers,

Brad.

Edited by: bbeaulieu at: 7/15/02 4:38:54 am