Tag Archives: novel

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1/9

Well, there’s been a bit of change of plans regarding the snippets I was planning to post. It seems that a new story sprouted wings in the middle of the dragon one and has taken off running, so I think I’ll switch gears and post from it, since it’s related to the dragon story (and is probably going to be a prequel to it).

The bell on the door rang and Ciana looked up from her sketches as an elderly woman entered the jewelry store. Her clothes were clean but worn, and her shoes had seen better days, but her eyes were bright and clear as she glanced around the shop.

“May I help you?”

The old woman smiled. “Is your father here, dearie?”

“No, ma’am. He’s… making a delivery.” That had been his excuse at any rate, that he had to deliver a brooch to the wife of one of the city’s councilmen. Ciana was pretty sure that he was delivering more than a piece of jewelry.

Find more great reading
at the Sunday Snippet group.

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I’m back! I’m posting from a new WiP (very very rough draft so read accordingly) about a dragon and rider — told from the dragon’s POV.

Blaze paced restlessly along the ridge outside his cave, spreading his crimson wings and snapping them closed in irritation. Something was wrong in his Warding and he didn’t know what it was.

Launching himself into the air he spread his wings and stroked upward to catch a thermal, riding it to a height from which he could survey his territory.

Nothing seemed out of place, but something felt wrong. Something was not right; he could feel it in the deepest part of him. Something was missing; it was like the absence of cricket chirps or birdsong.

Swooping lower, he circled the humans’ capital city, and from there he spiraled outward, gliding over fields and farms, studying the scattered outlying villages. It was late spring, nearly summer, and the fields and forests spread out like a green patchwork quilt.

He smiled to himself at the thought of the quilt in his cave. It was the first gift he had received when he had come to take his place guarding the territory of Antano Island. The little girl who had given it to him had said that she wanted him to be warm and comfortable and to know that he was loved. The adults with her had scoffed at her gift but he had been touched and had let them know that it was his favorite of all the things they had brought to welcome him to his new home.

The quilt was, of course, far too small for him, but the meaning was large enough to cover the entire island. Briefly he wondered what had become of the little girl, and thought he should go check on her village.

With a tilt of his wings he changed direction.

Find more great reading
at the Sunday Snippet group.

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Finishing up introducing the adult Hierik in Song and Sword, and skipping ahead to after Marlia’s trial.

Hierik cleared his throat. “Would the four of you please join me in my chambers?  I have something I need to discuss with you.”

The four exchanged glances, and Pashevel shrugged. He had no more idea than they did. “A moment,” he said quietly, giving Hierik a half-bow.

Hierik raised an eyebrow as Pashevel crossed the room to talk to Mathin; there were not many who would walk away when he asked them to come speak with him.

They watched as the two spoke, and shook hands, Pashevel putting his free hand on the Mathin’s upper arm in a gesture of friendship. Pashevel bowed, and returned to the group, smiling. “Now, Hierik, I believe you said something about a bottle of wine?”

“I said no such thing, Impudence,” Hierik chuckled, giving Pashevel a slap on the back of the head. “Come along.”

Once settled in the judge’s chambers, however, Hierik produced a bottle of wine and a set of goblets. As he poured the wine, Pashevel turned to Marlia. “What did he ask you?”

Marlia flushed again. “He asked me if I loved you.”

Pashevel raised an eyebrow as Hierik handed him a goblet of wine. Hierik shrugged. “I just wanted to make sure,” he said. “I know you too well, Pashevel.  You tend to be far too trusting.”

“You think I can’t tell the difference between real feelings and someone who is toying with emotions?”

Hierik studied him for a moment then shook his head. “No. It’s not that exactly. But face it, my friend, you have never had trouble attracting the ladies.”

“Oh?” Now it was Marlia’s turn to raise an eyebrow.

Hierik chuckled. “Oh, not deliberately, my lady. He’s never been one to take advantage, but, well, I’m sure you’ve seen how people react to him.”

Marlia nodded and relaxed against Pashevel as she accepted the goblet that Hierik handed her. “Pash does have a way with people. They are drawn to him.”

“All part of being a Bard,” Pashevel replied, taking a sip of wine. “Excellent vintage. Your own vineyard’s?” 

“Of course.”

Dakkas watched the exchange, trying to connect this friendly easy-going man with the one who had entered Marlia’s cell.

“Something wrong, Dak?” Pashevel asked.

Dakkas shook his head. “No. Just…”  He looked at Hierik then back at Pashevel.

“He seems so different than the man who came to Marlia’s cell,” Kashrya said. “It’s like they are two different people.”

Hierik laughed. “You can blame Pashevel for that. He gave me the reputation for being a monster.”

Pashevel shrugged. “Because you’re about as frightening as a blade of grass.”    

Hierik sighed. “True enough.” He looked at the others. “Until I met Pashevel, no one took me seriously.” He smiled at the memory. “Then this Bard showed up, and not only listened to me and took me seriously, he created a persona and reputation for me that ensured that others would also.” He shook his head, chuckling. “Of course, now everyone is scared of me, but at least they listen when I speak.” 

(“Because you’re about as frightening as a blade of grass.” is the line that led me to write Song and Shadow – I just had to know more about the young Hierik and how and Pashevel met.)

Pashevel: a simple Elven Bard — and the Crown Prince

Marlia: a Paladin of Arithen, the Elven God of Justice – seeking vengeance for the destruction of her village

Dakkas: heir to the Drow throne — if his father and elder half-brother don’t kill him first

Kashrya: raised among a tribe of nomadic Humans, she is unaware of her true heritage — or of the prophecy that made her mother an outcast

Their goal: build a bridge between the Elves and their outcast brethren, the Drow, reuniting them and undoing the damage caused in a time so far gone that history has become legend and legend has become myth.

But first, they have a problem to solve:  how do you stop a war that hasn’t started?

Find more great reading
at the Sunday Snippet group.

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Since it’s July Camp NaNoWriMo and I’ll be working on Song and Shadow, I thought I’d kind of step back from posting from it for a bit and instead show you what led to writing it by introducing the adult Hierik in Song and Sword.

Skipping a few paragraphs from last week. Hierik’s interrogation was interrupted by a message that there was someone waiting for him in his chambers with an urgent message.

“Order!” Hierik’s voice brought her back to the present and her fear returned. “The accused will rise,” he said, and Marlia stood up, shaking slightly. “You are accused of the murders of Bendren and Liffea. How do you plead?”

“Not guilty,” she said, her voice suddenly strong and confident as she looked past Hierik to Pashevel.

“Yet you stand accused by an eyewitness, the son of your victims.”

“I did not kill them.”

“Then explain how their son has identified you as their killer.”

“The man who accused me is not the man who they introduced me to as their son.”

There were murmurs from the crowd at this but Hierik pushed on. “Maybe they had more than one. Maybe you are lying.”

The crowd’s murmurs grew angry and Hierik turned to them. “Quiet!” he thundered, but one man stood up, facing him.

“They had no children,” he said clearly as people turned to look at him. “Neither do I, but I have a ‘son’ just like theirs.” Pashevel recognized him as the man who had stopped at the burned out farmhouse to speak with them. 

“Sit down!” Hierik roared, but the man stood firm.

“No,” he replied calmly. “I will be heard. My name is Yannik,” he went on, “and I am tired of being forced to live a lie.”

A murmur of agreement swept through the crowd.

“No one should have to live a lie,” Hierik agreed, his voice quiet as he turned the focus of his gaze from Yannik to the entire crowd, smiling as his eyes swept over them. “I have been informed of what is going on here, and I want you to know that the Crown is also aware, or will be soon.”

He turned back to Marlia. “Tell me what happened, Paladin.”

A bit further along in the trial, Marlia is being questioned as she is holding the Shield of Truth.

“Have you ever killed anyone?” Hierik asked.

The question startled her, but she answered calmly. “Yes.”

“Have you ever killed anyone other than in defense of yourself or others?”

“No.”

Hierik smiled and leaned in close to her, whispering a question in her ear. Marlia flushed and looked away, then looked at her friends. They looked puzzled – even Pashevel – and she realized that this had not been part of the plan. She smiled and looked at Hierik. “Yes.”

Hierik laughed. “Just wanted to make sure,” he said, turning back to the crowd.

“I declare Marlia, Paladin of Arithen, to be not guilty of the charges laid against her.  Are there any here who would dispute the findings?”

Pashevel: a simple Elven Bard — and the Crown Prince

Marlia: a Paladin of Arithen, the Elven God of Justice – seeking vengeance for the destruction of her village

Dakkas: heir to the Drow throne — if his father and elder half-brother don’t kill him first

Kashrya: raised among a tribe of nomadic Humans, she is unaware of her true heritage — or of the prophecy that made her mother an outcast

Their goal: build a bridge between the Elves and their outcast brethren, the Drow, reuniting them and undoing the damage caused in a time so far gone that history has become legend and legend has become myth.

But first, they have a problem to solve:  how do you stop a war that hasn’t started?

Find more great reading
at the Sunday Snippet group.

.

Since it’s July Camp NaNoWriMo and I’ll be working on Song and Shadow, I thought I’d kind of step back from posting from it for a bit and instead show you what led to writing it by introducing the adult Hierik in Song and Sword.

Skipping a few paragraphs from last week. Hierik’s interrogation was interrupted by a message that there was someone waiting for him in his chambers with an urgent message.

Pashevel lounged comfortably in a chair, waiting. He was slightly worried; he knew Hierik’s reputation, and his methods of interrogation. And he knew Dakkas’ temper, and silently prayed that his friend would stay calm, and that Hierik would respond to the jailer’s request for him to come to his quarters.

The door opened and the tall man entered, slamming it closed behind him. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded. “You can’t just walk into a Judge’s chambers and…”  He broke off as the man got to his feet, laughing.

“Ah, Hierik. You haven’t changed.” 

“I know that laugh… Pashevel?”

Pashevel bowed. “How are you?”

“I am well, Prince. And yourself? What brings you to this place?”

“Please, no ‘Prince.’ Just Pashevel. We’re not in any kind of Court right now.”

“And it’s safer not to be royalty,” Hierik agreed. “I understand. So, what brings you here?”

Pashevel took a deep breath and sat down again. “How much do you know of what’s been going on?”

Pashevel: a simple Elven Bard — and the Crown Prince

Marlia: a Paladin of Arithen, the Elven God of Justice – seeking vengeance for the destruction of her village

Dakkas: heir to the Drow throne — if his father and elder half-brother don’t kill him first

Kashrya: raised among a tribe of nomadic Humans, she is unaware of her true heritage — or of the prophecy that made her mother an outcast

Their goal: build a bridge between the Elves and their outcast brethren, the Drow, reuniting them and undoing the damage caused in a time so far gone that history has become legend and legend has become myth.

But first, they have a problem to solve:  how do you stop a war that hasn’t started?

Find more great reading
at the Sunday Snippet group.