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1st August, 2012 - Short Story - Ferragost - A Lady Celie of the Flatlands mystery

Ferragost is a stand alone short story of 15,000 words. If you are a reader of the Lumatere Chronicles, you'll remember that Celie is the daughter of Lord August and Lady Abian and is best friends with the Queen of Lumatere. I promise it doesn't really give away anything that happens in the upcoming Quintana of Charyn or even Froi of the Exiles. The events of Ferragost, however, are happening at the same time as in Quintana so you'll understand the role Celie plays in the bigger picture when Quintana of Charyn is released later this year (early next year in the US).

On sale online on Tuesday 7th of August.
Where to buy: http://reviewofaustralianfiction.com/ Cost is $2.99 (Volume 4, Issue 1) which will include two short stories: Ferragost, as well as Molasses by Kirsty Eagar who wrote the amazing Raw Blue, Saltwater Vampires and Nightbeach.

Or you can get 6 issues for $12.99. It's well worth it. They're a great online literary magazine who aren't afraid of genre (or women).

Synopsis: Lady Celie of the Lumateran Flatlands is visiting the Belegonian spring castle on the isle of Ferragost. Cut off from the rest of Belegonia by poor weather, she is confined to the island with four others, including the mysterious castellan of the castle. When the body of one of the guests is discovered on the rocks outside the east tower, Celie is not only considered a suspect, but finds herself embroiled in events that are entwined with her own kingdom's cursed history, as well as the future of the entire land of Skuldenore.

Extract

The Castellan unlocked the door of the chamber and stepped back. It was a good enough invitation for Celie to enter first. She walked to the trestle where she had been seated two nights before and then crouched. He did the same. She suddenly felt crowded. But there was no time to reflect on the fact that Mr Banyon smelled of pine and sandalwood and sea salt. Because in the cold light of the day, the last smeared traces of blood were there on the ground before them. Celie felt quite pleased with herself, despite the idea that there was a murderer amongst them all.
‘Well if I had to be inspired by those fanciful tales told in the old tongue,’ she said, ‘I’d say it’s best to write a list of suspects.’
‘Thank you for your advice, Lady Celie,’ he said, his voice anything but thankful as he got to his feet. ‘What say that we begin with you?’
‘Me?’ she asked, standing too soon and bumping her head on the bench.
‘As a suspect, of course.’
‘Why would I possibly be a suspect apart from the fact that I was a guest here on the night of his death?’ she said.
This time his eyes met hers and all those times Celie imagined he could be weak in spirit were swiftly crushed by the force of his stare.
‘Perhaps he found out that you were spying for Lumatere.’
‘Spying,’ she said, almost choking out the word. Then she laughed prettily. Her aunt said that when girls laughed prettily, they seemed innocent of any wrong doings.
‘Castellan Banyon, do you have a name?’
‘Yes, it’s Castellan Banyon.’
‘Well, what I mean, Sir, is that my name is Celina-May of the Lumateran Flatlands but my family and friends call me Celie and I know that Belegonians possess two names.’
‘And still my name is Banyon to you. Is there a point to this except an attempt to sway me away from the notion that you’re a spy for Lumatere?
Celie laughed again. ‘My brothers will be highly amused by your suspicions, Sir. I’m actually quite flattered.’
She pushed aside the chronicles and made room for herself to sit on the trestle, preferring its height. She was all confidence on the outside, removing a stray of thread on her cloak and flicking it aside.
‘The King’s Man came with a chronicle that his Majesty sent ahead to me,’ the Castellan said. ‘It’s an account of events that occurred in his palace this year. The King is always keen for me to know of any strangeness that may cause interference with his stay. There were events that stuck in my mind. One, for example, was the case of the missing palace seal at the beginning of winter.’
‘Oh the poor animal,’ she cried out, ‘they’re such beautiful creatures.’
‘I’m speaking of the royal seal placed on correspondence, as you would know,’ he said. ‘It went missing for a day. And then there was a case of disappearing letters. One moment they were in the scribe’s quarters, next moment gone.’
‘Strange indeed.’
‘The keys to the fourth tower also went missing for a day. I’ve visited the capital, Lady Celie. There’s not much in the fourth tower except for two empty chambers and the grand library.’
Celie leaned forward. ‘I do think the palace in the capital needs you, Mr Banyon. The Constable there seems to have no idea what he’s doing if these disappearances are taking place.’
The Castellan leaned closer himself. They had the same colour eyes, hers perhaps a shade darker.‘Do you know what all three events had in common, Lady Celie?’
She feigned contemplation.
‘They always took place when you were in the capital.’
‘Well, I am very flattered to say the very least,’ she said. ‘I don’t tend to stand out in a crowd, Mr Banyon. ‘And here I am, Lumatere’s master spy.’