K.R. Gastreich's Blog, page 20
October 22, 2015
About those women characters…
A Wonder of a Woman, but does she trust her instincts?
This post is inspired by three seemingly unrelated events this week.
One was an article by Renee Asher Pickup about the feminist implications of the story of Ted Bundy.
The other, a reflection on a Tumblr blog about Joss Whedon and the ever-elusive female heroine. (This latter post has been on line for over a year now; but I only came across it thanks to a share by author Christopher McKitterick on Facebook.)
These two articles are linked by one important element: They both use feminist analysis to understand a problem. In Ted Bundy’s case, how cultural expectations placed upon women might enhance the success of serial killers. In Joss Whedon’s case, how the crafting of authentic science fiction and fantasy heroines is bogged down by persistent (almost insidious) male bias.
Truth is, I’ve avoided the topic of women characters for a long time. Not because I don’t think it’s important. I do. But lately I go into eye-rolling mode every time I see another post about how to write women characters.
Haven’t we already talked about this? I think. Don’t you guys GET IT yet??
Sadly enough, it appears many still don’t. For some reason, understanding and writing about women continues to be the holy grail of an otherwise wonderfully imaginative genre.
So this week I offer a small epiphany with respect to my current work-in-progress, The Hunting Grounds. I’ve actually been applying this approach to writing women characters for a long time. What changed is that I came into a conscientious awareness of my approach. In so doing, I was able to solve a problem that’s been niggling at my story for a while.
Here are the key words: Instinctive. Instinctively. Instinct.
In her very insightful article, Renee Asher Pickup discusses how women in our society are often coached to downplay the significance of their instincts. They are told not make a fuss even when – especially when – they have a feeling that something’s wrong.
Men, of course, also have instincts, but we don’t call it that. In the case of men, the word applied to that ‘gut feeling’ is the hunch. A hunch carries a different connotation; we often imagine hunches as based on some underlying foundation of logic and evidence. Perhaps not all the pieces are there, but a man can, in true Sherlock Holmesian style, trust whatever conclusion he makes based on the pieces he has and act accordingly.
Instinct, on the other hand, is perceived as shaky and vague, even irrational. It’s a primitive response that we share with our “less-evolved” animal cousins. From the time we are girls, we are told that the woman’s domain of instinct simply cannot be trusted in the same way the man’s domain of the hunch can.
Here’s how thinking about all of this helped me: I’ve been stuck at one of those knots in the narrative where I know what needs to happen at point A and what needs to happen at point B, but I couldn’t quite nail the best way to move my characters between those two points. As it turned out, the sequence between A and B involved a potentially dangerous situation. After reading Pickup’s article, I asked myself a simple question:
Does my protagonist, Helen, trust her instincts?
The answer was a resounding yes. In fact, all of my major women characters trust their instincts, whether they are warriors or pacifists, queens or peasants, old or young, humble or ambitious. This is a hallmark of the women I write, and I believe now that it plays a major role in making them strong.
Once I had it clear in my head that Helen trusts her instincts, I knew exactly how she would respond to the situation at point A, and this made everything fall into place so that I could get her to point B.
Moral of the story? As an author, you need to know whether your heroine trusts her instincts, and why. All women have instincts (as do men), but not all women trust them. Trust of instinct, or lack thereof, will determine the decisions your protagonist makes, and in a very fundamental way, drive the plot and complexity of your story.
And now, back to writing stories about women…
October 15, 2015
Happenings About Town
My contribution to Heroines of Fantasy’s FRIGHT FEST went live this week. The horror short is an excerpt from my new work-in-progress, The Hunting Grounds, an urban fantasy featuring lots of scary things that go bump in the night. I’ve had some good feedback on the scene, and would love to hear what you think. Check it out at Heroines of Fantasy.
Also this week, Audra Middleton hosted me on her blog for month-long Villain Visitations event. The post features an interview with Prince Mechnes, the ruthless and charismatic villain of High Maga. As part of the event, there’s a great giveaway featuring 7 eBooks, 3 eComics, and an Amazon gift certificate. Don’t forget to register for your chance to win, and good luck!
Last but not least, this month we’re hosting a giveaway for High Maga on Goodreads. Four signed paperback copies of the Hadley Rille Books imprint are up for grabs. These are beautiful volumes featuring stunning artwork by Thomas Vandenberg. And of course, the story inside is pretty amazing too! If you’re a member of Goodreads, it’s easy to enter to win. If you aren’t a member, it’s easy to sign up, and free. You can enter the giveaway by clicking the box below, or visit Goodreads to register and enter there instead. Winners will be announced November 9.
Goodreads Book Giveaway
High Maga
by Karin Rita Gastreich
Giveaway ends November 09, 2015.
See the giveaway details
at Goodreads.
https://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/widget/158171
October 9, 2015
Fright Fest 2015
It’s the season for horror, and once again Heroines of Fantasy is celebrating with a month-long series of horror shorts. Fright Fest kicked off today with a super-creepy Gothic tale from the one-and-only Cybelle Greenlaw. The schedule for the rest of the month is posted below.
On Monday, I’ll have a special sneak preview for you from a new work-in-progress, an urban fantasy and paranormal romance entitled The Hunting Grounds.
Also, be sure to stop by at the end of the month, on October 30, to help us build a creepy story.
Trick or treat!
FRIGHT FEST 2015
October 9 ~ Death and Reanimation, Cybelle Greenlaw
October 12 ~ The Hunting Grounds, Karin Rita Gastreich
October 16 ~ Bones and Silence, Harriet Goodchild
October 19 ~ The Candidate, Gustavo Bondoni
October 23 ~ Mark Nelson
October 26 ~ Usher’s Well, Harriet Goodchild
October 28 ~ Louise Turner
October 30 ~ Build-A-Scary-Story! Join us as we write together to build the spookiest All Hallow’s Eve tale ever!
October 1, 2015
A New Start
Last weekend I took an eastbound train to attend an ecology, evolution, and conservation retreat in St. Louis. In addition to getting together with old friends, I met some new people, learned a few things, saw a little of the St. Louis Zoo, and even attended a fun play about neurotic writers at an intensive workshop. (The play is Seminar at the Gaslight Theater; they run for one more weekend, so if you’re in St. Louis, check it out!)
Journeys – particularly journeys that include train rides – have always been good opportunities to reflect and reassess. Getting out of the routine and into thought and conversation can fire up the brain cells in unexpected an productive ways.
I can’t say I was very ‘productive’ last weekend, but I did get a lot of thinking down about issues that have been on my mind for quite a while. One of those issues is the future of Eolyn.
As many of my followers know, Eolyn was not originally intended as the first book in a trilogy. This had a lot of implications for how Eolyn and its eventual sequel, High Maga, were written and then rolled out onto the market.
My first novel, Eolyn, was picked up by Hadley Rille Books at a time when its companion was just a sparkle in this author’s eye. It has been such a great privilege for me to work with this small press, and to this day I would not give up that experience for the world.
But at the time, we put no thought to a strategy for marketing full trilogy. Simple things like a title for the series, a well-timed release schedule, and a cohesive look for the covers weren’t taken into account, in part because they didn’t yet need to be.
Meanwhile, Eolyn’s journey continued to grow. High Maga was released almost two years ago, and Daughter of Aithne now waits for its chance on the shelves.
With three books under my belt, I’ve been reflecting a lot on the best way forward, and I’ve come to an important decision: Eolyn needs a new start, with a marketing and release strategy that will capitalize on the series as a cohesive whole.
One of the implications of this decision is that the Hadley Rille imprints of the first editions of Eolyn and High Maga now have a limited shelf life. If you’ve been thinking about buying or gifting the current editions, featuring artwork by Jesse Smolover and Thomas Vandenberg, you’d best make that purchase now. I can’t say exactly when they’ll be removed from the market, but I guarantee it will be soon. (And yes, I promise to warn you again before the final date.)
Spider web; Ed Austin & Herb Jones; 1987. From the Yellowstone National Park online photo collection.
Following the discontinuation of the first editions, there will be a (hopefully brief) hiatus to regroup, re-edit, and redesign in preparation for a new launch. As part of all this, I am giving the series a new name: The Silver Web trilogy.
Many of you probably know that Eolyn and High Maga are currently linked in the market as books one and two of Eolyn Chronicles. I’ve never been happy with “Eolyn Chronicles”; it is a generic title, developed almost as an afterthought when High Maga hit the market.
The Silver Web, I think, does a much better job of capturing the spirit and uniqueness of the series. You might guess, correctly, that the title refers to a jewel made by Briana of East Selen and gifted to her son, Akmael at the beginning of book one; a magical amulet that binds the destinies of Eolyn and Akmael as they meet and clash on the future of women’s magic.
However, the title has a larger meaning as well, referring to the intertwining of fates of all the characters in the series, from Briana to Kedehen, to Mage Corey and Akmael; Eolyn and Ghemena and Tzeremond; Adiana, Mechnes, Rishona, and Taesara. Every character in the series is connected in some fashion to the web of magic left behind by Briana of East Selen, and this new title honors her sacrifice and legacy.
This is a big transition for me, and a little scary. There are many unknowns that I can’t yet talk about (mostly because they’re unknown). My one reservation is that readers who have been through books one and books two, and are anxiously awaiting book three, will have to be patient a little while longer. Really, I feel terrible about making you wait! But I also need to be faithful to what my heart is telling me about the best way to go forward.
As the details become clear, you’ll be the first to know, right here on this blog. In the meantime, I very much appreciate your support and patience. And I hope you share my excitement as we chart a new course for Eolyn.
September 24, 2015
Ode to Imperfection
We’re in the middle of our first big round of exams and papers this semester. Some assignments I’ve truly enjoyed grading; others…uhm, not so much.
When I haven’t been swamped by grading, I’ve managed to steal slivers of time to continue revisions of Eolyn, in preparation for releasing a second edition early next year.
I’ve really enjoyed sinking back into the world of Eolyn’s youth. There are characters in the first book who never made it to book two or three, so it’s nice to spend some time with them again. And with all due humility, I wrote a darn good novel. It’s fun to read it all again.
Very little in terms of the story line will be changed for the new edition. Actually, nothing in the story will change. But there are some “delivery” issues in the book, places where events are not communicated as well as they could be. Part of this has to do with economy of wording. I tend to use more words than necessary to get an idea across. I like to think I’m better now at avoiding this. Certainly I’m more able to recognize spots weighted down by wordiness, and edit accordingly.
It’s also true that having completed the third novel, it’s easier to see exactly what needs to be set up and how in the first novel. For the second edition, I’m deleting a handful of moments that in the long run don’t lead anywhere, while heightening the focus on events that are truly important. There are also spots here and there where I’m infusing more emotional intensity.
A set of middle chapters are particularly muddled. The muddled middle, if you will. That knot has been on my conscience since we published the first edition. Yes, I knew they were muddled when the book first went to press, but we were up against a deadline, and the show had to go on. So it’s a true luxury in a way to come back to fix things that I’ve long felt needed fixing.
So far I’ve shaved off about 2000 words of the novel, while adding or enhancing certain scenes. And I’ve only been through the first dozen or so chapters!
Not everyone likes revising their work. Once I mentioned to a fellow author how much I really enjoy deleting unnecessary words when I revise a manuscript. His response was, “Deleting makes me feel bad, because I think I shouldn’t have written all those extra words in the first place.”
I wonder if that’s the central unpleasantness of revisions for a lot of people: Confronting the truth of our imperfect works.
But we shouldn’t punish ourselves so much.
It’s okay to write and then delete, reword, remold. Stories are our playgrounds; words are the building blocks that add dimension and form to that space. If we stack them only to knock them down again, why should anyone care? That’s the whole point of the game.
Imperfection has its own charm, and in the end, is much more interesting than perfection could ever be. If everything we made was perfect, we’d never have the satisfaction of knocking down our little worlds to make room for another new start.
September 14, 2015
Back for Another Round at Heroines of Fantasy
Dropping in briefly today just to direct you to a couple other places.
Please visit Heroines of Fantasy this week. My shift of regular Monday posts starts this month, and I’d like to hear your thoughts and comments on my end-of-summer reflection, September and the trees are restless.
Also, this month High Maga is featured in the Masquerade Crew’s Cover Wars. In all honesty, I think our cover, featuring iconic artwork by Thomas Vandenberg, is the best in the bunch. If you agree, please vote for High Maga at the Masquerade Crew’s web site.
With the start of fall semester, things have been very busy, so I hope you will forgive me if I keep this short. I plan to be back into my blogger rhythm soon, perhaps as early as next week. In the meantime, I hope you find a little bit of magic in those September winds.
August 29, 2015
Stories I Love to Tell
Charles Darwin as a young man. (Portrait by G. Richmond)
I have such a great line up of courses this semester. After a hiatus of several years, I’m teaching Animal Behavior once again. For the first time I’ve been given a lecture section for our introductory course in Ecology and Evolution. I am also teaching introductory level Cells and Genes, for which I plan to expand the evolutionary context relative to what I’ve done in the past. Last but not least, I’m coordinating our capstone research experience, facilitating independent projects for our junior and senior biology students.
I never tire of telling the story of evolution. Not just of evolution, but of the scientists who first put together the evidence of the tremendous power and complexity of the history of life on earth. When I tell the story to my introductory biology students, it begins something like this:
One of many works of art by Maria Sibylla Merian, who discovered metamorphosis in butterflies.
In 1831, Charles Darwin embarked on a journey around the world in a small English ship called the Beagle. Darwin was already an accomplished naturalist, and this voyage allowed him to apply his skills to the study of different habitats. He compared plants and animals across continents, and observed how similarities and differences between the species were often linked to the places in which those species were found. He also made many surprising observations, such as finding fossils of sea creatures in the high peaks of the Andes Mountains. Throughout his journey, he reflected on the meaning of everything he saw, and what his observations indicated about the history of life.
It’s important to remember that Darwin did not work in isolation. His voyage on the Beagle was in many ways about the right person on the right trip at the right moment in history. Darwin conducted his studies at a time when science as a whole was undergoing a major transformation in our understanding of how Earth has changed over time. Important scientists who laid the groundwork for Darwin’s theories included botanist Carolus Linneaus, paleontologist Georges Cuvier, geologist James Hutton, naturalist Jeanne Baptiste Lamarck, and economist Thomas Robert Malthus. All the pieces of the evolutionary puzzle were on the table; what we needed was someone like Darwin to put it together.
After the 5-year voyage of the Beagle, it took Darwin more than 20 years to reflect on his experience and integrate his observations with the larger body of data available at the time. But it was well worth the wait. In 1859, Darwin published the most important book in the history of biology: On the Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection.
Alexander von Humboldt explores the flora and fauna of South America.
Stories of naturalists like Charles Darwin have always inspired me, in part because of the daunting adventures they undertook and in part because of the inspiring legacy they left behind. Alexander von Humboldt and Maria Sybilla Merian are two other examples of personalities that fire up my imagination. Selenia, the main character in my short story “Creatures of Light,” emerged, in part, from these sparks of history. It’s long been my dream to craft a fantasy novel set in an age of exploration, whether it be an expansion of Selenia’s brutal world, or the undertaking of some new idea in another place and time. Here’s a fun title that keeps running through my head: Charles Darwin, Dragon Slayer. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?
Yet at the end of the day, these real people of history don’t need a fantasy twist to make their story interesting. They dared once, long ago, to leave everything they knew behind and venture into lands unknown. In so doing, they unveiled some of the most beautiful and awe-inspiring mysteries of nature. Today we enjoy the fruits of their labors and honor their memory, even as we look toward the larger universe in anticipation of more discoveries to come.
August 22, 2015
Work As Therapy
My imagination is feeling just about as barren as the Badlands right now.
It’s been a long time since I’ve had to process the kind of emotional loss I’m dealing with at the moment.
If I were a full-time writer, I think I would be entirely adrift. All my stories seem to have dried up under a knot of pain. I can’t think straight about publishing or marketing or anything, really, related to writing.
Sometimes I even forget that I have a completed manuscript out there that needs my attention. (Third book? I say in confusion when a friend asks. Then I remember, Oh, yeah, I did write a third book…) Deep down, I know we will get Daughter of Aithne out sometime in the not-so-distant future. But when or where or how is all a nebulous cloud right now. I have something much more important to attend to at the moment.
Fortunately for me, I’m not a full-time writer. Fall semester is starting at Avila University, and I’m very grateful to have a job that I enjoy and that demands my exclusive attention through so many hours of the day. I’m grateful for my friends and colleagues, and the very supportive and dynamic work environment that they create. I’m grateful for the 140 or so students who are depending on me to get my act together by the start of classes next Wednesday. I’m especially grateful to have courses that I’m deeply excited about teaching, namely Animal Behavior and Introduction to Ecology and Evolution.
Work cannot fill every hole in my heart or heal emotional pain, but it provides me with an anchor, a safe place where I can lean on the scaffold while friends and family help me sort through the rubble within. In this way, I feel blessed even when confronting times of loss and painful transition.
How about you? Where do you find comfort when you’re feeling down?
August 9, 2015
Sunset Over Summer
With NAPIRE friends and colleagues at the Association for Tropical Biology Meetings in Honolulu, Hawaii.
We are on the cusp of the new academic year. Emails to my Avila account have increased in frequency. The long parade of faculty and staff meetings that precedes the start of classes begins this week. An ever-greater sense of urgency accompanies my renewed attempts to finalize my syllabi and get ahead on some of the lecture and course material for Fall 2015. I’m looking forward to being back on campus, but it will be a challenge following a semester-long sabbatical that bled well into the summer months.
This past summer has been unusual in that I decided, for the first time in many years, not to go to Costa Rica. To be fair, I spent pretty much all of spring semester in Costa Rica, so it’s not like I missed out on my time in the tropics. But I did set aside summer projects I would have otherwise participated in, the most notable being the NAPIRE program, where I have served as a mentor and/or co-coordinator for some ten years now.
At the Martin City Pizzeria with my nieces; one of many priceless moments this summer.
June was spent mostly in Kansas City, with a brief foray to Lawrence for the Campbell Conference at the Center for the Study of Science Fiction. July was packed with visitors and travel. My brother and his family came from Hong Kong, as well as my husband and his sister from Costa Rica, and my aunt from Germany. I traveled to Hawaii, the Badlands, the Black Hills, Yellowstone National Park, and last but not least, the Arkansas Ozarks, all within the space of a few weeks. It was a marvelous privilege to see so much – and so much of the best – of my home country. The Yellowstone trip, in particular, moved me in deep and lasting ways. I hope to reflect on and share that experience with you in the weeks to come.
I’m not sure what I expected from changing up the routine this summer, but I can say I’ve learned some important things. The vast and intense beauty of the heartland to which I was born has hit home, once more. For twenty years I have wandered far afield, and I can only say, after all I’ve seen and done, that the U.S.A. is one of the most beautiful places in the world. That’s not to say we don’t have ugly – we do – but what we’ve managed to conserve, and conserve well, can’t really be found anywhere else. We have to hold those places in our hearts, protect them, and expand their reach, so that generations to come can experience the same awe and inspiration that has been our privilege.
For me, the sighting of a life time: a grizzly bear in Yellowstone National Park.
I’ve also learned, unfortunately, that sometimes love is not enough.
Nothing new, you say? Well, yes. You’re right. I admit I’ve learned this lesson in many ways and on many levels already. I’ve supported friends and family as they’ve suffered through its harsh truth. Still, in spite of all experience to the contrary, I’ve been working hard to protect an important part of my personal universe against this singular and most unwelcome fact.
Sometimes love is not enough.
I can say with pride that I’ve fought the good fight. I erected powerful barriers. I rained fire and arrows and boiling pots of foul fluid upon my attackers. I sallied forth with sword in hand and took no prisoners. Yet my opponent will not be deterred. The outer walls have crumbled. I suspect the keep will not hold.
I am not so much afraid as I am very, very sad. Okay, maybe I’m a little afraid, too. Though I know the force that bears down on me is not malevolent. He’s just a master at tearing through illusions. And sometimes, whether we like it or not, illusions must be destroyed.
A good summer or a bad? I guess the answer depends on perspective and disposition. I will call 2015, on the whole, a good summer. Though I reserve the right to change my mind a month or so down the line.
July 29, 2015
Guest Author Jamie Marchant
I am very happy today to welcome Jamie Marchant to my blog today. Jamie is celebrating the release of her new novel, The Soul Stone.
From early childhood, Jamie has been immersed in books. Her mother, an avid reader, read to her, and her older sister filled her head with fairy tales. Taking into consideration her love for literature and the challenges of supporting herself as a writer, she pursued a Ph.D. in American literature, which she received in 1998. She started teaching writing and literature at Auburn University. But in doing so, she put her true passion on the backburner and neglected her muse. Then one day, in the midst of writing a piece of literary criticism, she realized that what she wanted to be doing was writing fantasy novels. Her muse thus revived, she began the book that was to become The Goddess’s Choice, which was published in April 2012. The second volume in the series, The Soul Stone, was released this June.
She lives in Auburn, Alabama, with her husband, son, and four cats, which (or so she’s been told) officially makes her a cat lady. She still teaches writing and literature at Auburn University. Her short fiction has been published on Short-Story.Me, and my story was chosen for inclusion in their annual anthology. It has also appeared in the anthologies—Urban Fantasy (KY Story, 2013) and Of Dragon and Magic: Tales of the Lost Worlds (Witty Bard Publishing, 2014)—The World of Myth, A Writer’s Haven, and Bards & Sages.
You can visit Jamie at the following links:
Website: http://jamie-marchant.com/
Blog: http://jamie-marchant.blogspot.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Jamie-Marchant-Author/164706710298768?ref=hl
Twitter: @RobrekSamantha
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5258855.Jamie_Marchant
About The Soul Stone
The Crown Princess Samantha and Sir Robrek struggle to solidify their rule in the aftermath of the king’s murder and Duke Argblutal’s attempt to usurp the throne. They are thwarted at every turn by those who seek power for themselves and desire to prevent their marriage. Just when they think their problems are solved, a deadly curse begins to spread throughout Korthlundia and Samantha becomes pregnant.
Samantha must fight off priests, enemies, and her closest advisors while Robrek discovers the reason the goddess chose him as king, to defeat the Soul Stone, a stone capable of sucking the soul out of its victims, which threatens to obliterate all life in the joined kingdoms. Their archenemy, the Bard Alvabane, awakens the Soul Stone and plans to use its power to reclaim Korthlundia for her people (a people driven out over a thousand years ago by the hero Armunn). Armunn had to sacrifice his life and soul to contain the Soul Stone. Will Robrek have to do the same? Will the young couple have only a few short months to love each other?
Purchase your copy today!
Black Rose Writing: http://www.blackrosewriting.com/sci-fifantasy/the-soul-stone
Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-soul-stone-jamie-marchant/1122191714?ean=9781612965468
Excerpt from Chapter One
Clutching the note Darhour had left pinned to the door above Argblutal’s corpse in one hand and Robbie’s hand in the other, Samantha approached the room where the king lay dead. No, Father! You can’t truly be gone! Their steps echoed off the stone floor in the vast emptiness, reminding her of the emptiness of her own life. The air seemed to thicken about them, and she slowed. If she never reached the king’s bedroom, maybe she could make his death a lie.
After a few moments and an eternity, she stood before the king’s chambers. She hesitated and then squared her shoulders and pushed open the door.
The king lay on his bed, his eyes closed as if merely asleep. His body had been washed and dressed for burial. Seeing him lying there reminded her of when she’d had nightmares as a little girl; she’d come to him and crawl in bed for comfort. He had held her, stroked her hair, and told her stories. She’d snuggled against his long white beard until she fell asleep.
Will I ever feel that safe again?
She was certain she wouldn’t. Not when Darhour, too, had deserted her. Darhour had been the captain of her guards, her friend, and as she’d discovered only a few days ago, her true father. Now, according to the note left near Argblutal’s body, he’d left her. “My final gift to you,” he’d written. “From one unworthy to serve you.” How dare he think of himself that way?
She forced thoughts of his betrayal out of her mind and looked around the room—everywhere but at the king’s body. Above the mantle across from the bed was a portrait of her sitting in her windowseat and looking out at the palace grounds. Every two years the king had had a new portrait of her painted to hang in his bedroom. He’d told her he wanted her to be the last thing he saw before he fell asleep.
Maybe it’s all a mistake. Praying for life to flow back into him, she knelt beside the bed and took the king’s hand. It was freezing and felt more like marble than flesh. Robbie laid his hand on her shoulder. “Can you do something?” she asked him.
To ask anyone else the question would have been absurd, but Robbie was the most powerful sorcerer Korthlundia had seen in centuries. He’d saved Darhour’s life when he’d taken an arrow through the heart. Could he not heal her father’s heart now, through which Argblutal had thrust his sword?
He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Sam. Maybe if I’d been here at the time. But I can’t bring back the dead.”
“Holy Sulis, how can I go on without him?” She let go of Solar’s lifeless hand and rested her cheek against the coverlet. She wanted to sob, to wail out her grief, but the man who’d always soothed her tears was dead. Robbie knelt beside her and put his arm around her. He didn’t tell her the lie that everything would be all right or say any of the trite things people say to comfort those in grief. He just held her.
“Damn Argblutal!” she choked.
Before disappearing, Darhour had done a thorough job of killing the duke—eviscerating, castrating, and decapitating him. Still, she wished Argblutal was alive, so she could kill him with her own sword, rip his heart out of his chest with her bare hands. But nothing she could do to Argblutal could heal the gaping hole in her own chest as she knelt beside the greatest king Korthlundia had ever known and the best father a child could have.
