S.P. Oldham's Blog, page 34

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The leaves littering the forest floor were slowly freezing, their veins picked out in silver lines where ice began to form. The night sky showing between the trees was a deep shade of blue, the air still and somehow expectant. A pale moon shone on the girl’s long black hair.

The rope binding Crystin’s hands to the stake bit cruelly into her soft skin, rubbing it raw and bloody. She had long given up struggling, the knot too tight and too well made, all her efforts now concentrated upon survival in place of escape.

She shivered violently beneath the thinning cotton of the over-large tunic that had once belonged to her brother. It was soaked a deep red around the neck and chest, where it too was beginning to stiffen with the cold. At least the bitter air had muted the scent of his blood. She closed her eyes against the memory of his death, the violence she had suffered at the hands of his murderers since. The ache between her legs was still painful. Hard on the heels of her grief came rage. She welcomed it; it gave her strength, but now was not the time to let it to consume her.

Unable to stand any longer, she sagged against the stake. Her arms took the strain. She bit her lips as fresh agony tore into her wrists. It wouldn’t be long before she would be forced to stand again, but she had to find some relief, however fleeting, for her bruised and aching lower body. Near desperate, she fought against the tears that welled, knowing that to give into them would undo her completely.

Something stirred beyond. Tears checked, Crystin held her breath. She scanned the trees that bordered the clearing for any sign of movement.

There were wolves in this forest, she knew. Boar and bear, not to mention the monsters she had been warned of since her earliest childhood. The sound came again; she let out a mixed sigh of relief and frustration. That was no forest animal nor fantastical beast; that was nothing more than the snoring of one of her captors.

She glanced over at the makeshift covers the men had made with their hides and skins, draping them over low hanging branches. Warm beneath them, cosy next to the embers of a fire, they slept soundly. Their horses were nearby, tethered and calm. That they had not taken fright was a small comfort; it confirmed that there was nothing dangerous lurking in the shadows.

Crystin shivered, her body spasming painfully. She could not prevent a small cry escaping as she struggled back to her feet, her arms now crying out for rest. She hoped exhaustion would overtake her soon, that she might sleep regardless of the torture her body was forced to endure.

Another sound, not snoring this time.

She tensed, as frozen as if the ice had caught her up. Helpless, unable to fight or to run, she warily watched the edge of the clearing, a sense of foreboding growing ever stronger. The air seemed thicker, more alive; a palpable tension weighing it down. She glanced back at the sleeping men, wondering for the first time if what approached might be her salvation.

Someone stepped from the cover of the trees into the faint light at the clearing’s farthest reach. A man; tall, broad in the shoulder, well-muscled beneath his rough smock and bearskin vest. He looked at her, a faint trace of amusement in his features. He took a step closer, raising a finger to his lips, bidding her remain silent. Then, to her amazement, he winked.

S. P Oldham

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Bonfire Night - Be Safe! Hedgehog Check!

Have a safe and happy Bonfire Night everyone. Here's hoping our emergency services are not needed and our stretched NHS has a quiet night. Oh, and that pets and animals are safe too. 

The Coffin Path - Katherine Clements

** spoiler alert ** Well, this book is definitely crammed full of spookiness and dripping with atmosphere! You can see the dark moors, the swirling mists, the waterlogged peat bogs. You can almost hear the bleating of sheep, the mournful caw of the crows...

Clements does a great job of imbuing the entire story with a sense of unease which is at times quite unsettling. This is a traditional ghost story in my opinion, but done extremely well. I had no trouble picturing her characters or the setting they were in. It is all rather bleak and foreboding. Even the children are part of the haunting storyline. I confess to being a little confused by the ending, as it left me unsure what the haunting really was after all. Was it simply the house itself? Or the place where it was built? I get the impression that the ghostly sounds she hears from the unused bedroom - the 'thunk, shrrsh' is the sound Ellis's legs make at the end of the story, when she helps him to bed. As if it has all happened before, and that Mercy has been hearing the sound of her own haunting, so to speak. As if they are all caught in some deadly, eternal circle of life, death and then a sad and troubled afterlife until they do it all again. Perhaps I am wrong but that is how I understood it. Even the boy - Sam - shooting the man - Ellis - is a repetition of the past.

The twist regarding the relationship between Mercy and Ellis became more and more inevitable as the book went on, but I enjoyed it nonetheless. This is a very atmospheric, descriptive book; a take on the traditional ghost story, done very well. If you are after a book that you would rather not read when alone, or late at night, or up on the moors somewhere, then 'The Coffin Path' is for you.

Review - The Sword Saint - C.F Iggulden

Review – The Sword Saint – Book Three in The Empire of Salt series by C. F. Iggulden

SPOILERS!

As with the previous two books in the series, The Sword Saint was given to me as a gift. I am a fan of Conn Iggulden’s historical fiction and have found many of his books in that genre unputdownable. If that is not a word, it should be.

It is partly because I admire his writing so much that I have stuck with the whole series. I really wanted to be completely bowled over by Empire of Salt. I wanted to devour these books as I have devoured his others. The truth is that they never really ‘grabbed’ me as I so wanted them to do. I enjoyed them, yes; but I wasn’t in a rush to get back to them and in fact read one or two other books in between reading these. They just didn’t pull me in as I first thought they would.

However, I was interested to know the fate of certain characters and to learn the future of the beleaguered city of Darien. In The Sword Saint we meet several characters who featured in previous books, as well as being introduced to one or two new ones, in particular a young prince who is sent to Darien on a devious mission by his ruthless and heartless father. This mission not only leaves the young prince gravely wounded, but brings war to Darien’s doorstep.

I was pleased to see Elias Post was back. I always thought him a truly interesting character and would have liked to have seen more of him. (I thought Jack Daw was also a great character. Sadly, he is killed off in Book One if I remember right.) Vic Deeds and Nancy are also back, as is, of course, Tellius; one of the central characters absolutely vital to the plot. This character definitely develops and becomes more rounded throughout the series.

I have to say though, that I found the storyline in each book essentially the same. A great enemy is threatening the walls of Darien. The people within have to defend it, and ‘hold the wall.’ Although there are subtle differences and sidelines in each story, this in essence the plot for each book. Even so, by Book Three I had grown to quite like Tellius and Lady Sallet. I thought the sad ending was surprising I must say. I did not see it coming, yet when it happened it also seemed fitting.

I can picture Darien quite clearly in my mind. The one thing that did occur to me when reading was that this would probably translate quite successfully to film. On the whole this is a good series which is well written by an excellent author. For me personally, I hope he continues writing his outstanding historical fiction. I have seen others describe this series as ‘solid’ and I have to agree that I would probably describe it in much the same way. A good, solid read.

I'm Back !

For those of you who may have read my little ditty, 'The Letter O,' I am pleased to tell you that after a week in the repair shop, my keyboard is now up and running again. Absolute bliss to have each little letter, number and symbol doing exactly as it is asked! Amazing how one stuck letter can cause such disruption! Anyway, don't want to tempt the gods of the keyboard to strike again, so I will say no more, except that it is nice to be back.

Competition Winner

Thank you to everyone who entered my recent competition. I am pleased to say that the winner is...

Marla DeWitt!

Congratulations Marla, I will be in touch very soon.

Competition Time!

To be in with a chance of winning all the goodies in the picture (except the tablecloth!) including the one of a kind mug and a signed copy of Wakeful Children just in time for Halloween, just leave me a comment with your name on my blog. Winner will be drawn at random some time in the coming week. Thanks and good luck! Feel free to share.

1 tote bag
2 bookmarks
Signed paperback Wakeful Children
2 'So Lost in Words' pens
1 mug

The Dragon Has Wings- The Blurb

Fancy reading the blurb for The Dragon Has Wings, my Grimdark novel I hope to publish soon? Click the link and as always, let me know your thoughts!

So Lost in Words - Blog - The Dragon Has Wings

Cholera Cemetery

I have been meaning to visit the old cholera cemetery for an age. Finally got round to it today. There were apparently three outbreaks of cholera back in the 19th century, all of which took their toll on Tredegar. I found an informative page on Wikipedia but you can undoubtedly find out more online if you wish. The link is here: Cholera Cemetery Cefn Golau

For me, it seems a very sad, bleak place. Strange, given that it is only a stone's throw from housing and not too far at all from the 'regular' cemetery. Of course, when these graves were first dug housing did not reach as far along this road as it does now. The inhabitants of the town felt the need to bury these dead further out and away from habitation as they were so afraid of the disease and had little understanding of it.

The cemetery is right next to Cefn Golau pond, which is well used by both people and wildlife. Someone has built a lovely big house at the far end of the pond, looking right out over the cemetery and beyond to the expanse of the Brecon Beacons. It is undoubtedly a beautiful place. Not such a bad place to be buried perhaps, in the scheme of things. Odd then, that it struck me as feeling rather desolate and lonely. Perhaps it is just that I sympathise so greatly with the poor souls interred here.

The graveyard is a Scheduled Ancient Monument. It is protected to some extent, being behind metal fencing with a kissing gate to allow entry to interested observers such as myself. One end of the fencing has been damaged and it is evident that the sheep come in and out when they want to. The headstones are now crumbling, faded and becoming disjointed. Not surprising really, given how exposed to bad weather that spot is, and how many years have passed since those poor souls succumbed to the illness. It seems on the one hand fitting to allow nature to take over here; yet at the same time, given that it is a Scheduled Ancient Monument, I can't help but wonder (as my husband said) why it has not been taken better care of. I would hate to think that the old chestnut 'lack of funding' is to blame but let's face it, it probably is.

Anyway, I have taken a few photos. Most of the inscriptions on the headstones are too faded to read. Some are still barely legible. One, the headstone of a young man, reads:

One night and day I bore great pain,To try for cure was all in vain,But God knew what to me was best,Did ease my pain and give me rest

I would hope that all those laid to rest here are at peace now, having endured enough in life. But if ever there was a place to see a lonely ghost, a lost soul, wandering the roads in search of home, then it is here. I may try to find out if there are any ghostly tales of hauntings associated with the place. In the meantime, if you chose to visit then wear wellies! It is surrounded by very marshy landed, almost ringed in by some kind of gorse or similar (if you can identify the plants in the photo then please let me know!) As if nature was all too ready to welcome them back again...

The Letter O!