Category: fantasy

Posted on

44-Wet Trees

The doctor was just finishing when we arrived in the cellar, and Jemin was immediately sent back out to fetch my brothers. My father still looked pale, but now he looked relaxed. His torso was wrapped tightly with cloth and there was an array of little brown bottles sitting on the floor next to him.

“He will be alright with rest and food,” said the doctor, looking up from packing his bags to give me a reassuring smile. “Broken bones don’t mix well with exposure and lack. He should heal respectably with those barriers removed.”

I nodded.

“I am off to observe the horses,” the doctor finished putting away his tools and stood up, slinging his saddle bags over his shoulder. He bowed and headed for the stairs just as Jemin was returning with my brothers.

“An odd excuse,” commented Nadine.

“He doesn’t want to hear what comes next, I expect,” I replied. I wouldn’t miss it for the world

My brothers arrayed themselves to the right of my father, Nadine and I pulled up chairs with our mother on his left. Gravity descended on the cellar and if I closed my eyes I could imagine we were in the golden throne room of Galhara. Jemin stood before the royal semi-circle just as comfortably as he’d played the bumpkin in Gillenwater.

“Tell your news,” said the king, his voice still full of weariness.

“Your Majesties,” Jemin bowed. “Captain Quilleran sends his greetings and hopes you are well. He has spoken with the King of Dalyn on your behalf and the king would like to meet with you to discuss the possibility of Galhara joining the cause. There is a place for you to stay in the city while you are our guests.”

My father nodded gravely. “My family and I are very grateful for the risks Captain Quilleran and his men took on our behalf, we will still honor our original intent to meet with the king. However,” He paused, “I would not have my entire family inside Dalyn’s walls. My son, Namal, will go as my emissary, as before. The rest of us will stay in hiding.”

I felt myself wilt in disappointment.

“Very well, your majesty.” Jemin bowed. “If it pleases you, I will take you and your family to stay at one of the king’s orchards. Comings and goings to this place would be noticed, and this cellar is not a good place to stay in winter.” He’d been prepared for this decision, apparently.

My father dipped his chin in consideration.

“There are but few servants at the orchards this time of year,” continued the burly guardsman, “and they can be told you are a merchant who the king’s men rescued, and at the king’s pleasure you are being nursed back to health.”

“Very well,” agreed my father. “We will go to the king’s orchard.”

Jemin bowed again. “There is one other thing, your majesty. My king especially desires to meet your daughter, Zare, because he has heard rumor of her deeds.”

My family turned to look at me.

“Rumor?” asked my father, his weariness banished.

Jemin’s comfort evaporated and he shifted his feet. “Yes, your majesty. She has been seen fighting the Nether Queen’s soldiers several times in the past fortnight.”

“I wasn’t trying to be seen,” I exclaimed in defense. Except for the drunken act, and the ghost act, and other ghost act…My cheeks burned as every brazen move from the past two weeks jumped up and paraded through my memory. My heavens, I had taken some chances.

Nadine and Ayglos looked amused, Namal looked tired.

“The rumors do not agree on her identity, or even if she is living or ghost,” added Jemin, as if he were trying to help. “She is often accompanied by a host of deadly warriors.”

“That’s us,” Ayglos laughed and gestured to include Namal and Jemin. “Zare’s army.”

“I promise, father, I made sure she was well guarded,” said Namal, turning to Zam the Great.

Guarded? I considered feeling indignant. As if I had not fought in the siege but was some helpless princess to be protected at all times. My mind flicked back to my capture at the Cymerie: I was here because of Quill and Jemin. Indignation could wait for something better.

“I would imagine you did, Namal.” My father shook his head, fixing each of us marauding offspring with a stern look in turn. He wasn’t angry, though. I suppose, with secrecy so entirely lost, desperation forgives risks.

Jemin continued. “The stories are already tavern favorites, though in the court they are only whispered. My king feels this may already be the spark to kindle the heart of the city.”

“Fire is a fickle beast,” my mother spoke and we all turned to her, “the hearts of men even more so.” Her eyes seemed even bluer than usual as she looked at Jemin. “I fear that the hearts of the people are not ready to be stirred. They are like young trees cut down in a violent storm—their wounds are too fresh and still too soaked with the destroying rain to catch flame.”

“There are some who burn already, your majesty,” replied Jemin, “Perhaps they can burn off the rain.”

“Perhaps,” said my mother. One word imbued with hope and weighed down by sadness.

“Zare,” my father turned to me, “You may go to meet King Tarr.  As you argued in Gillenwater, you can help Namal blend in.”

“Thank you, father.”

He gave me a small smile that said he knew how disappointed I’d been when I thought I wasn’t going. I blushed.

“Thank you, your majesty.” Jemin bowed. “If it pleases you, we shall make ready with all speed to take you to the orchard, and then bring Prince Namal and Princess Zare into the city.”

My father agreed and dismissed us to prepare. Just like that the throne room façade fell away and we all scurried about packing our meager bags while Jemin prepared the horses. Soon my brothers were helping my father up the stairs and onto Sinker, and Jemin and the doctor were offering their mounts to Mother and Nadine. I swung aboard Hook, and we were off. Jemin set a brisk pace, and I soon persuaded the doctor to ride. The poor fellow had not spent the past few weeks becoming a hardened runner and he lasted only a few minutes. Our journey, however, lasted for hours as Jemin led the way overland. I didn’t see a single road as we crossed field and forest before finally coming to rows of meticulously cultivated fruit trees. At first I thought this meant we were close, but I was wrong, and starting to wonder if we would ever arrive when Jemin slowed. He motioned for us to hang back while he went ahead. In a moment, he returned and led us out onto a dirt road toward a big stone house. House was probably too small a word for the towering stone edifice before us—it was something between a villa and a castle. The windows were far too large to be defensible, but parapets crowned the building. Tall white columns supported a covered entrance. Between us and the house was an iron gate and two liveried guards.

Posted on

The Un-funeral

It’s hardly fair to Thomdal. He was a gentle soul and everyone in the village liked him while he lived. But I was willing to bet good money that the only one listening to the eulogy was Priest Bayer and that was only because he was giving it.

Every eye was fixed on the open casket at the front of the chapel–to look elsewhere would be to cast suspicion. The soldiers lounging at the back of the chapel watched the funeral proceedings casually. They seemed mercifully unaware that the boiling tension in the room was not grief.

Priest Bayer finished and it took the congregation a half beat too long to realize he’d extended the Last Goodbye invitation. Hurriedly, the first row stood and filed up to pay their last respects to Thomdal. I watched the soldiers out of the corner of my eye as the rest of the congregation took their turns as if nothing were amiss. The soldiers were only here because they were told to watch us, and we were all here. They had no reason to suspect what was really going on. At least, that’s what we told ourselves. Each congregant filed past Thomdal’s coffin, their faces carefully masking what else was in the coffin–that tucked against good Thomdal’s corpse was a golden bow the height of man. The Kingmaker of Achen was no ordinary bow–and the youth crouched at the foot of the casket was no ordinary child. If the soldiers found our village hiding either, we would all be ash on the wind by sundown.

Posted on

First line of last paragraph of page 51

Looking for Zare? Click here for Episode 44!

The book: Wings of Dawn, by Sigmund Brouwer.

The line: He clapped his hands twice.

The creation:

He clapped his hands twice. Nothing happened. Strange, it’s always worked before. He kicked the interface and clapped again. this time the ship hummed to life and the lights on the display blinked beneath a thick layer of dust. Sig sat in the pilot chair and blew on the console. The nav computer screen glowed green, happily showing their safe arrival at Herion 1 on May 23rd, Earth Year 2015, and today’s date of March 10, Earth Year 2020.

Stunned, Sig leaned back in the pilot chair. “Five years?” he said, “How can that be?”  Think, Sig. Your last memory–was docking.

Sig stood. The computer must be wrong. Something must’ve messed with its clock during their landing. He left the cockpit with purpose and lowered the ramp to leave his faithful–if delusional–starship.

Before he could take a step a woman leapt onto the ramp and ran to his side. “Sig! What did you find?”

“Who are you?” demanded Sig.

She blinked. “Funny, Sig. We don’t have time for this.”

Posted on

Fire horse

Looking for Zare? Click here for Episode 44!

I kind of love this tee shirt, if I do say so myself. It’s super soft (it’s the new tri-blend shirt at Redbubble) and a little roomy for a relaxed fit.I like it’s looks with the sleeves cuffed, but I have not the gift of making them stay cuffed.

You can get your own here, if you like: https://www.redbubble.com/people/ravenslanding/collections/469418-elemental-horses

20161112_161625

Posted on

Dilemma

This is not a Zare related drawing. Just in case anyone got worried! It’s actually an older piece of mine, but I’m fond of it.

This acrylic on paper.

the-dilemma

Posted on

43-Thrilling Gossip

“Rydderhall?” I demanded. “Any relation to Quilleran Rydderick?”

Jemin followed my gaze. “I will tell you, my lady, if you will come back inside the villa.”

Fair enough. I followed him back through the doorway and as he kept going over the pile of pillars and down one of the hallways that was still reasonably intact. We stopped at a circular room lined with windows that looked out at a tiny walled garden. “You know your way around this house, too,” I accused, taking a seat on a windowsill.

“Yes, I do,” confessed Jemin, settling in the next window. “Vaudrin does, also.”

“It belongs to Quill, doesn’t it?”

“By rights, it is his. But the Nether Queen forbade it from being rebuilt—there are many in the city who support her reign, she would find out if she were defied. Add that Quill’s survival was very likely an oversight, and you can see why it remains a ruin.”

I waved my hand, “That part isn’t a mystery. Who are the Rydderick’s that they garnered such treatment?”

“Quill told you that when you arrived,” replied Jemin, “Lord Rydderick was a formidable officer in the war, and the rumors say he came close to reaching the queen herself in a battle.”

I was unsatisfied, and apparently looked it because Jemin added, “You can ask Quill yourself if you want more details about his past. It’s not my place to tell his secrets.”

He was right, of course. “Alright, then, tell me about you.”

Jemin opened his mouth to object, then closed it. “Alright, your highness,” he used my proper title to show his displeasure. It made me feel delightfully at home. “I’m the lesser son of a lesser lord with a small holding. I joined the guard the same time Quill and Vaudrin did, and we became friends.”

“That wasn’t too terribly hard,” I replied. I wanted to ask him more but decided to press my luck in other ways. “Now,” I said, “Tell me about that gossip you mentioned earlier.”

Jemin leaned back and rubbed his hand through his beard, as if this wasn’t really an improvement in topics.

“Oh, come now,” I exclaimed, “It can’t be more scandalous than anything I heard while I was princess in Galhara.”

“No,” Jemin shifted again and took a deep breath. “I was going to have to tell anyway, I expect. You, well…you have made quite an impression on a number of soldiers between here and the garrison in Gillenwater.”

I stared at him, “What do you mean?”

He continued, “Soldiers love to talk even more than court ladies. When we went down to the taverns in the city everyone was talking about a girl—perhaps a ghost or a sorceress—who was attacking soldiers and freeing prisoners. They say she spoke of judgement and vengeance at each turn. Of course, there are those who believe she is flesh and blood, but most of the stories agree that she is undead or magical somehow—because how else could a mere girl wreak such havoc among the queen’s armies?”

I laughed. “Really?” There must be a downside to this, but at the moment I was entertained.

“Really. If they didn’t believe initially, they may have convinced themselves thusly to save their own hides.”  Jemin shook his head. “There are stories I recognize from our mission in Gillenwater and the rescue by the Cymerie. But it seems that every strange happening or failed duty is turning into a ‘I saw her also!’ story.”

“Incredible.”

“Indeed.”

“Is it useful, you think?”

“Maybe. The king thinks it might be.”

“King Tarr? You have spoken with him?” I asked, leaning forward. Tarr Kegan was seventeen or eighteen now, but had been crowned five years ago when Dalyn was conquered. A mere lad, he’d been set up as a puppet—the rightful heir, so harder to argue with—but really controlled by the Queen and her ambassadors. I wondered what he was like.

“Quill spoke with the king,” corrected Jemin. “Once the doctor is finished I am to speak with your father about the next steps.”

“Are we to go into the city?”

“That is ultimately for your father to decide.”

“If we did, would we have to sneak in as peasants? Or would we pose as visiting nobles to make it easier to move about the court? With better tack Hook and Sinker would fit that part well enough.”

Jemin shifted, “I’m not certain. Some of that depends on what your father decides. But also, you could not all come openly—your parents are too recognizable, and the soldiers from Gillenwater are still in the city. We could not risk them seeing your parents or sister. Possibly not even you.”

“I suppose that means Ayglos and Namal will get their chance for daring deeds.”

“That’s possible.”

I wrinkled my nose. I tried not to be too disappointed as I thought of weeks closeted in hiding somewhere waiting for things to happen. It would be restful. Restful was good.

Jemin laughed. “You are the most unusual princess I have ever had the pleasure to fight beside.”

“What?” I tried not to grin. Pleasure to fight beside.

“You look like a puppy being left behind by its master at the mere thought of being out of the action.”

“I want to help.” My protest sounded thin, even to me.

Jemin stood to his feet, his eyes sparkling, and offered me a hand up, “Shall we go check to see if the doctor is through?”

“Jemin,” I accepted his hand and then swept down the hall as regally as I could, “Is Quill the Captain of the Guard?”

“Yes.”

“How on earth did he get away for so long?”

“It was a holiday.”

I stopped, “What an awful holiday. How does he explain his wounds?”

“Hunting trip,” Jemin grinned. “He will not be hunting with that neighbor again.”

“How is he Captain of the Guard when his family was so singled out by the Nether Queen?”

“You are full of questions.”

“Yes, but this hardly qualifies as prying into his past.” We were climbing over the rubble before the great hall now, where my brothers were wrestling and the horses loitering.

“He took a different last name when he joined the guard,” explained the big man. “He goes by Quilleran Silver.”

“Huh,” we crossed the great hall and headed for the kitchen. “I don’t think I like it so well as a Rydderick.”

“I don’t think he does, either.”

Click here for Episode 44!

Posted on

Sisters

Not my best work with markers–this is definitely a first pass at this scene, but you get the general idea. This is Zare telling Nadine about her adventures.

2016-11-17 08.40.51.jpg

Posted on

42- Rydderhall

 

Nadine and I sprang to our feet and darted away from the window opening. “Blast it, Hook,” I hissed. The riders were approaching quickly and if they hadn’t been headed to the villa already they certainly would be now. One hand on my daggers I started moving toward the kitchen, Nadine followed. I could hear the horses turning in to the little court yard before the back door. Stopping by a hole, I peered through the wall at the two men dismounting on the other side. I grinned when I recognized the burly form of Jemin. “It’s alright!” I cried, as Ayglos and Namal came running from the great hall. “It’s Jemin!”

My brothers heard me, but kept their hands on their weapons as they reached the door and stepped out to meet the arrivals.

Jemin came to meet them with a grin and a bow, “How have you fared, my lords?”

“We are well,” replied Namal, inclining his head in princely acknowledgement, and then turning his gaze to the stranger with Jemin. “Who is your companion?”

“I have brought a doctor.” Jemin gestured, “This is Rawyn Drayk, one of the finest doctors in all of Daiesen.”

Rawyn Drayk stepped forward, saddle bags slung over his shoulder, and bowed. He was old, but wiry and radiating energy. He had close trimmed white hair and beard, and his dark clothes were both well-made and unassuming. “I have been told that there is a wounded creature here who needs my help,” said the doctor.

Namal bowed slightly and moved aside, “Please, come in, and welcome.”

Namal led the doctor inside, and Jemin and Ayglos followed with the horses. Nadine was gliding to meet them even before they were in the entryway. “Doctor,” she stretched out her hand, “Thank you for coming.”

The doctor took her hand and bowed, touching it to his forehead. “My lady,” he replied.

Watching the exchange, it was easy to forget that there was no roof on this place and the walls were blackened and crumbling around us. I wondered how much the doctor had been told about us, and how much he would know once he saw our father.

“Please, follow me.” Nadine turned and the doctor followed her down the hallway toward our cellar.

The rest of us lingered in the entryway. Helping Boitumelo with Remko had been hard enough, I didn’t want to have to help with my own father. My brothers were likely entertaining similar thoughts, because Ayglos said, “Let’s see to the horses, shall we?”

The four of us led the horses to the great hall where Hook and Sinker were already grazing. As we walked, Jemin explained their cover, “We’re expected back in the city before nightfall. I have ridden with the good doctor in escort on a visit to one of the nearby villas—the caretaker is old and much loved by the family; he has been ill and the family wanted him checked on. Rawyn Drayk is one of the best physicians in Dalyn. He is a kind soul who only wants to heal, he will not betray your secrets.”

We tied the horses to the water fountain with enough line to let them graze a little. Hook and Sinker investigated the newcomers and settled into grazing nearby.

“Well,” I said, “I was going to explore the villa.”

“Don’t wander far,” Namal replied. He was already moving off to a spot clear of the horses and taking off his sword belt. “Ayglos and I will be here wrestling for a while yet.”

“Jemin?” I asked, “Would you like to join us?”

Jemin hesitated.

“If you’re worried about me getting into trouble, then you should come along, because I am going to explore.” I was quite experienced with persuading reluctant companions.

The burly man grimaced. “I will accompany you.”

“Excellent.” I turned and headed toward the front of the villa this time. The past two days we’d stayed at the back of the villa, Nadine and I had started at the back and hadn’t gotten far, so I wanted to start someplace new.

Jemin jogged to catch up with me. He was wearing an unremarkable gray cloak, but underneath was a dark blue uniform trimmed in gold. The golden river of Dalyn circled on his shoulder. I remembered back to the tavern in Gillenwater and marveled at how unlike the simple country workman he seemed now.

“So, what news from Dalyn?” I asked as we reached the end of the great hall.

“We all arrived safely back in our various ways,” replied Jemin, giving me a hand over some fallen pillars. “Dalyn is much as we left it. Though…” he paused and I looked at him with raised brows.

“Though?”

“Though the gossip is more thrilling than when we left,” he hopped off the pillars.

“I would imagine they have a lot to talk about.” I ignored the hallway crossing our path and moved into what must have been a beautiful foyer—the floor was scattered with rubble, but underneath I could see a mosaic depicting fields and trees. The walls had been faced with smooth white stone, though now only pieces remained in place. “I bet they had a skylight in here,” I commented, picking my way forward and gesturing toward the sky.

“Why?” asked Jemin.

“Because I would have,” I replied. There were alcoves off to either side of the foyer. I could see the remains of chairs tucked in them. The front door to the villa was a dark, heavy wood that was bowed and splintering as if it had tangled with a battering ram. It hung half open, its hinges partially ripped from the door posts. Hunting scenes were carved all over both sides of the door. I touched the door gently, tracing my fingertips over the horsemen and stags until they were obliterated by the bludgeoning. I felt as if I were touching the embodiment of loss.

“My lady,” Jemin’s protest came as I slipped through the front door and stepped onto the front stoop. There was even more debris out here. Once, carriages would have been able to pull right up to these stairs, but now the generous courtyard was full of weeds, smashed crockery and furniture…as if the Nether Queen had first had her men break things by hand before burning the place down. Thorough of her.

Jemin squeezed himself out the front door and I turned to greet him, but the words died in my mouth. Across the lintel was carved the word Rydderhall. This place must belong to Quill. 

 

Posted on

41-Sister Talk

Quill and Jemin left at dawn after showing us where the well was. “You will be safe here for the time being,” said Quill. “The road is that way,” he pointed, “stay away from it.” There was another hedge of happy cypress trees, and who knew how many fields, between us and the road, but we promised to stay away. “One of the men you know will come back in a day or so to bring you supplies—a doctor if I can manage it—and hopefully word about an audience for you with the king.”

They headed back the way we’d come yesterday. I was disappointed that I didn’t get the chance to corner Jemin before they left, but that was forgotten quickly enough. After checking on the horses I went back to bed and slept for several more hours. In fact, most of the family did. For the next two days we barely stirred from the hideaway, even when we were awake. Our most daring act was on the morning of the third day: we built a fire to warm bath water and toast waybread.

Then I convinced Nadine to come explore the villa with me while Ayglos and Namal were sparring in the old great hall. We hadn’t gone far down the destroyed hallway from the kitchen when Nadine pulled me into an alcove and down beside her on an old window seat. “Now,” she commanded, “We are alone. Tell me the whole story—from beginning to end.”

I told her more than I’d told anyone: Starting with the counsel in the leopards’ wagon, the taming of Hook for Quill to ride. Then about finding Quill’s men—and finding out he was their captain–going back to Gillenwater with Jemin and the Tryber showing me the way into the garrison.

“We were already gone,” she put in ruefully.

I told her about the soldiers leading me to the girls, my impulsive intervention, and the ensuing daring escape. Nadine gasped at all the right parts and urged me to keep going when I paused at the homecoming. “We walked for days and days,” I replied, waving my hand. “First to rejoin the men, then to get as far away as we could, then to rescue you. We left the girls with Gabe and Balleck at the house of a friend, they’ll be going to rejoin the circus as soon as they’ve rested.”

“I bet Ayglos and Namal were upset you didn’t leave them any heroics to do in Gillenwater,” laughed Nadine, tossing a look toward the old great hall.

I laughed, “Probably.”

“What about Balleck?” asked my sister.

“What about him?” My cheeks warmed. I didn’t want to talk about Balleck.

“What did he think?” Nadine arched a brow, well aware she’d hit on something.

“He was glad enough to have Olena safe,” I replied.

Nadine studied me, looking for the things I hadn’t said. “What did he think when he found out who you were? Since I assume that secret didn’t last long past that captain recognizing father.”

I bit my lip. “He didn’t know what to think. Especially once we were with Quill’s men and I started doing dangerous things.” I paused, then charged ahead—Nadine would drag it out of me eventually anyway.  “Before we left to stop your caravan he asked me to go with him when they went back to the circus.”

Nadine sat back, her blue eyes widening, “Go with him? Just to be safe, or forever?”

I shifted. Technically he hadn’t said, but, “Both. I think.”

“Oh, Zare, and you said no.”

“I couldn’t say yes; my place is here.” I looked out the window. There had been glass panes once, but the jagged pieces that remained were blackened from the fire. “I can’t leave you, and I can’t leave the fight.”

Nadine grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “Do you think…that ended it? Until those soldiers came I was really expecting him to ask father about courting you before the year was over.”

I thought about the conversation Balleck and I had in the barn. “Oh yes, the possibility of us is gone.” The thought made me sad, but not as sad as I would have expected. I turned to Nadine, realizing with some surprise the fullness of what she’d said, “You expected me to marry a circus performer? So soon?”

“Well,” defended Nadine, spreading her hands, “Galhara burned, we were hiding, our dethroning seemed rather permanent. The circus wasn’t a bad life, you and Ayglos in particular were quite at home there. It didn’t feel so farfetched at the time.”

“Would you go back if you could?” I asked.

“To the circus?” Nadine thought about it. “I don’t know where else we’d go.”

“We could go anywhere.”

“Not really, we’d have to find a way to eat.”

I leaned against the wall and regarded her. “You would probably be married to what’s-his-name now if we hadn’t been besieged.” Even with the fear of the Nether Queen throwing all sorts of strange kinks into the chess game of marriage alliances, Nadine had been engaged. I didn’t think they’d been in love, but he was likeable prince from Charpolia, the city across the bay from Galhara.

Nadine looked out the window. “Yes,” she said slowly, “I probably would.”

“And I would be wading through suitors, complaining to you about the process,” I added.

This brought a smirk to my sister’s face, her eyes flicked back to me for a moment. “As entertaining as that would have been, I don’t mind missing that.”

“If this rebellion succeeds, we’ll be going back to that.”

Nadine turned back to me, “Would you rather have Balleck?” she asked.

I didn’t answer. Instead I turned back to the window and starred out at the overgrown lane and the cypress trees. I had already given up the circus, and I didn’t have a deep desire to go back. But I also wasn’t sure I wanted every aspect of royalty now that I’d tasted life away from it.

Just then two heads bobbed into view on horseback and I heard Hook whinny in greeting.

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.