Steven J. Pemberton's Blog, page 23
December 19, 2011
Random things...
I'm visiting my family for a few days before heading back home to spend Christmas with Breda. I'm taking a little time away from Adramal and her world, but will be resuming the first draft of Dust & Water (Barefoot Healer Volume III) next week or in the new year. In the meantime, I've dug out a short story about dragons that I abandoned 11 years ago, and will see if I can finish it over the next few days.
I gave my mum the first (and so far, only) print copy of Plague & Poison as a birthday present. She also asked for a bottle of Tio Pepe (a dry sherry). I hope the latter won't be helping her get through the former...
I gave my mum the first (and so far, only) print copy of Plague & Poison as a birthday present. She also asked for a bottle of Tio Pepe (a dry sherry). I hope the latter won't be helping her get through the former...
December 8, 2011
Plague & Poison now on sale
I'm pleased to announce that Plague & Poison, volume 2 of The Barefoot Healer, is now on sale, a few days ahead of schedule. Below are links to where you can sample it and buy it:
Amazon US
Amazon UK
Smashwords
Goodreads
Both reviewers who read it before release gave it five stars. From Rachel Cotterill's review:
"[A] new sequence of adventures takes [our heroine Adramal] to new places and new friends. This time her aptitude for trouble gets her to a plague-ridden village where her healing magic is seriously tested. I really enjoy this series, and can't wait for the next one to come out."
Enjoy!
Amazon US
Amazon UK
Smashwords
Goodreads
Both reviewers who read it before release gave it five stars. From Rachel Cotterill's review:
"[A] new sequence of adventures takes [our heroine Adramal] to new places and new friends. This time her aptitude for trouble gets her to a plague-ridden village where her healing magic is seriously tested. I really enjoy this series, and can't wait for the next one to come out."
Enjoy!
December 7, 2011
Plague & Poison Chapter 2
Only three more days until the release of Plague & Poison, the second book in the Barefoot Healer series. As promised, here's chapter 2...
(Missed chapter 1? It's here.)
“How are you feeling?” Captain Tagahra said from the door.
Adramal twisted, seeking a more comfortable position in the bed. “I think I’ll live, Sir.” She tried to smile. Her face seemed not to obey her. “This is becoming a habit, isn’t it?” After the panic had subsided, Tagahra had insisted she spend the night in his spare room, rather than her own lodgings. She had stayed here to recover from the injuries she’d received at the end of her first mission for him.
Grimacing, the Captain flopped onto the chair by the bed. “I had Nathvorbanhin, our apothecary friend, test the water. The barrel had been poisoned with kakhtalor, a rare plant from the Empire. A few drops of its tincture will kill a man. There was enough in the barrel to finish off the entire garrison.”
Adramal shifted again. She’d barely slept – unfamiliar pains had kept flaring all over her body, just long enough to wake her.
“A good thing it was just me, then, Sir.”
“Perhaps not. A couple of hours before, the cook boiled some vegetables with water from the same barrel. Nobody complained of any symptoms.”
“Boiling would destroy the poison, though, wouldn’t it, Sir?”
“Not kakhtalor, apparently, which makes it much sought-after among the Imperials.” He took a deep breath. “That would suggest the poison was added not long before you drank, perhaps by someone who knows you prefer water to beer.”
She swallowed carefully. Her throat still hurt. “Are you saying this was an attempt to kill me, specifically?” She wanted to run and hide somewhere far away. Not much chance of that. I’d barely make it down the stairs in this state.
Tagahra sighed again. “I’m sorry. I can’t rule it out at this stage.”
“Then... then do you think Shendar’s family are behind this?” Adramal was the only witness to Shendar’s death – the only human witness, anyway – and she’d told everyone Shendar drowned in the river. Of course the body hadn’t been found, despite extensive searches, and her family made no secret of their belief that Adramal was less than innocent.
“That’s the obvious assumption,” said Tagahra. “Captains Polkarn and Eriakh are questioning her relations who live in the city. The only problem with blaming them is that kakhtalor is ridiculously expensive. Nathvorbanhin reckoned the amount in the barrel would’ve cost upwards of ten thousand crowns. That would pay the entire Watch for a season or more. Shendar’s family doesn’t have that kind of money to throw around. And the stuff is hard to come by even if you can afford it. It seems a lot of trouble to kill a Sergeant in the Watch, even if they do blame you for the death of one of their own. If they want you dead, there are much simpler and cheaper ways to do it.”
“So what are you saying, Sir?” said Adramal. “That this was an attack on the entire Watch, and they got the timing wrong?”
“That,” he said heavily, “or you have more powerful enemies than either of us thought.” He stood, his shoulders sagging. “Do you feel like eating?”
A fit of coughing tore at her throat. “I think I could manage something, Sir.”
“I’ll send the maid up with some stew. If you’ll excuse me, I have some awkward questions to ask.”
When she heard him close the front door, she sank back under the blankets. Enemies didn’t come much more powerful than Zorian.
Visit my website to read the rest of the chapter.
(Missed chapter 1? It's here.)
“How are you feeling?” Captain Tagahra said from the door.
Adramal twisted, seeking a more comfortable position in the bed. “I think I’ll live, Sir.” She tried to smile. Her face seemed not to obey her. “This is becoming a habit, isn’t it?” After the panic had subsided, Tagahra had insisted she spend the night in his spare room, rather than her own lodgings. She had stayed here to recover from the injuries she’d received at the end of her first mission for him.
Grimacing, the Captain flopped onto the chair by the bed. “I had Nathvorbanhin, our apothecary friend, test the water. The barrel had been poisoned with kakhtalor, a rare plant from the Empire. A few drops of its tincture will kill a man. There was enough in the barrel to finish off the entire garrison.”
Adramal shifted again. She’d barely slept – unfamiliar pains had kept flaring all over her body, just long enough to wake her.
“A good thing it was just me, then, Sir.”
“Perhaps not. A couple of hours before, the cook boiled some vegetables with water from the same barrel. Nobody complained of any symptoms.”
“Boiling would destroy the poison, though, wouldn’t it, Sir?”
“Not kakhtalor, apparently, which makes it much sought-after among the Imperials.” He took a deep breath. “That would suggest the poison was added not long before you drank, perhaps by someone who knows you prefer water to beer.”
She swallowed carefully. Her throat still hurt. “Are you saying this was an attempt to kill me, specifically?” She wanted to run and hide somewhere far away. Not much chance of that. I’d barely make it down the stairs in this state.
Tagahra sighed again. “I’m sorry. I can’t rule it out at this stage.”
“Then... then do you think Shendar’s family are behind this?” Adramal was the only witness to Shendar’s death – the only human witness, anyway – and she’d told everyone Shendar drowned in the river. Of course the body hadn’t been found, despite extensive searches, and her family made no secret of their belief that Adramal was less than innocent.
“That’s the obvious assumption,” said Tagahra. “Captains Polkarn and Eriakh are questioning her relations who live in the city. The only problem with blaming them is that kakhtalor is ridiculously expensive. Nathvorbanhin reckoned the amount in the barrel would’ve cost upwards of ten thousand crowns. That would pay the entire Watch for a season or more. Shendar’s family doesn’t have that kind of money to throw around. And the stuff is hard to come by even if you can afford it. It seems a lot of trouble to kill a Sergeant in the Watch, even if they do blame you for the death of one of their own. If they want you dead, there are much simpler and cheaper ways to do it.”
“So what are you saying, Sir?” said Adramal. “That this was an attack on the entire Watch, and they got the timing wrong?”
“That,” he said heavily, “or you have more powerful enemies than either of us thought.” He stood, his shoulders sagging. “Do you feel like eating?”
A fit of coughing tore at her throat. “I think I could manage something, Sir.”
“I’ll send the maid up with some stew. If you’ll excuse me, I have some awkward questions to ask.”
When she heard him close the front door, she sank back under the blankets. Enemies didn’t come much more powerful than Zorian.
Visit my website to read the rest of the chapter.
December 1, 2011
Plague & Poison - release date
Plague & Poison, the second book in my Barefoot Healer series, is due out on Saturday 10th December 2011. It'll be available on Amazon, Smashwords, and right here on Goodreads.
Rachel Cotterill read the final draft, and wrote a very nice review. She was kind enough to point out some plot holes and continuity errors, which let me make the released version that little bit better.
Here's the blurb...
Apprentice wizard Adramal is now a detective with the City Watch. But someone wants her dead - during a routine investigation, she is poisoned, and only her magic and quick thinking save her life. Her father suspects followers of the evil god Zorian are to blame. He insists Adramal leave for the island kingdom of Salmar, beyond Zorian's influence, while the Watch investigates. The Salmarian priests trick her into revealing herself as a wizard, and sentence her to death for practising magic. Desperate, she chooses to assist a plague-stricken village rather than be executed. But not all the villagers welcome her help, and Zorian's reach may well be longer than she thought...
You can read the first chapter here. I'll upload more chapters next week in the run-up to the release date.
Rachel Cotterill read the final draft, and wrote a very nice review. She was kind enough to point out some plot holes and continuity errors, which let me make the released version that little bit better.
Here's the blurb...
Apprentice wizard Adramal is now a detective with the City Watch. But someone wants her dead - during a routine investigation, she is poisoned, and only her magic and quick thinking save her life. Her father suspects followers of the evil god Zorian are to blame. He insists Adramal leave for the island kingdom of Salmar, beyond Zorian's influence, while the Watch investigates. The Salmarian priests trick her into revealing herself as a wizard, and sentence her to death for practising magic. Desperate, she chooses to assist a plague-stricken village rather than be executed. But not all the villagers welcome her help, and Zorian's reach may well be longer than she thought...
You can read the first chapter here. I'll upload more chapters next week in the run-up to the release date.
November 24, 2011
War Horse: Fact & Fiction
My partner and I went to an exhibition at the National Army Museum in London, about the role of the horse in warfare - http://www.nam.ac.uk/microsites/war-h...
It's the exhibition of the painting of the film of the play of the book - or something like that. The book, of course, is War Horse by Michael Morpurgo. An author's note mentions a painting of Joey, the horse of the title, done by one of the characters in the book. Readers have taken to visiting the Devon village where Mr Morpurgo lives, asking where they can see this painting, and go away disappointed when they learn he made the whole thing up. (What authors can and can't get away with inventing might be a topic for a future post.)
But then the film makers needed an artist to create the pictures that the character is supposedly painting, and Mr Morpurgo commissioned her to paint a picture like the one he described, so he can hang it in the village hall, just like the book says. (I wonder if visitors will be told that it's not the real one, or that the real one never existed?)
Before it goes to Devon, though, the painting features in this exhibition. As the name suggests, it's partly about War Horse, the story, in all its incarnations (though mainly the play) and partly about what life was really like for war horses. It doesn't try to sugarcoat anything, and so may not be suitable for young children.
There are sections about battles where cavalry made a difference, or sometimes failed to - Hastings, Agincourt, Balaclava (the Charge of the Light Brigade). Cavalry charges were apparently rare, but tended to succeed spectacularly or fail disastrously, which makes them memorable, regardless of the eventual outcome of the battle.
I was surprised, given all the fuss there's been about the painting, that it's not the centrepiece of this exhibition. It's much smaller than I expected, and is tucked away near the end. I nearly walked right past it.
Allow 1-2 hours to go round the exhibition, depending on whether you read all the text that accompanies the displays (there's quite a lot of it). We went around the rest of the museum, too, which took about 5 hours altogether. The cafe is good and reasonably priced by London standards. I'd recommend this exhibition to anyone who's interested in horses and/or the military.
It's the exhibition of the painting of the film of the play of the book - or something like that. The book, of course, is War Horse by Michael Morpurgo. An author's note mentions a painting of Joey, the horse of the title, done by one of the characters in the book. Readers have taken to visiting the Devon village where Mr Morpurgo lives, asking where they can see this painting, and go away disappointed when they learn he made the whole thing up. (What authors can and can't get away with inventing might be a topic for a future post.)
But then the film makers needed an artist to create the pictures that the character is supposedly painting, and Mr Morpurgo commissioned her to paint a picture like the one he described, so he can hang it in the village hall, just like the book says. (I wonder if visitors will be told that it's not the real one, or that the real one never existed?)
Before it goes to Devon, though, the painting features in this exhibition. As the name suggests, it's partly about War Horse, the story, in all its incarnations (though mainly the play) and partly about what life was really like for war horses. It doesn't try to sugarcoat anything, and so may not be suitable for young children.
There are sections about battles where cavalry made a difference, or sometimes failed to - Hastings, Agincourt, Balaclava (the Charge of the Light Brigade). Cavalry charges were apparently rare, but tended to succeed spectacularly or fail disastrously, which makes them memorable, regardless of the eventual outcome of the battle.
I was surprised, given all the fuss there's been about the painting, that it's not the centrepiece of this exhibition. It's much smaller than I expected, and is tucked away near the end. I nearly walked right past it.
Allow 1-2 hours to go round the exhibition, depending on whether you read all the text that accompanies the displays (there's quite a lot of it). We went around the rest of the museum, too, which took about 5 hours altogether. The cafe is good and reasonably priced by London standards. I'd recommend this exhibition to anyone who's interested in horses and/or the military.
November 15, 2011
Sneak preview of Plague & Poison
This is the start of the first chapter of Plague & Poison, the sequel to Death & Magic. Read the complete chapter at my website.
Adramal knelt by the old man’s body and closed her eyes. That cut out the sights of death – the staring eyes, the unkempt hair, the shrivelled and rat-gnawed flesh. She couldn’t do anything to block the smell. Her stomach fluttered and then settled. That was one thing to be said for working in the City Watch – if you stuck with it, you got tougher. Not so long ago, the mere thought of being this close to such a disgusting corpse would have had her wanting to puke. Now, this poor fellow was just another part of her job.
She focused her attention inward, calming the surface of her mind to the smoothness of a still pond. A familiar, reassuring sequence of abstract thoughts came together in the space she’d cleared. Magic gathered from the corners of the room, eager to obey.
To her mind’s eye, the shape of the old man’s body appeared as a soft white glow, fuzzy and indistinct. It had no bright spots, which would have signified recent wounds. She tried not to form any opinions about what that meant – not even to allow any feelings about it, not yet. She let go of the spell’s thoughts, and it frayed and fell apart, as if it had never been. She paused and took a few shallow breaths, drawing in as little of the foul air as possible. Opening her eyes, she cast another spell. This one might give more information than the first, but she had to touch the corpse for it to work.
She hesitated. What if he’d died of something contagious?
Well, what if he had? She had a job to do. If she caught the disease, she could work out a cure before it got too bad. She shuddered as she touched his forehead. Her spell revealed the skull, as if she was touching it and not the worm-eaten flesh above it. But the messages from her fingertips about what they were really touching were strong enough to interfere with the information the spell presented. It was as if the man’s flesh was flowing like mud around her fingertips, exposing the bone, then reforming when she moved on. She squirmed and put more power into the spell, drowning out the sensations of his flesh.
She found no injuries to his skull or neck, nor his arms, ribs and legs. She let go of this spell and cast another that showed the major organs. Maggots wriggled in most of them, well along their way to devouring him. A cough forced itself through her lips. Acid burned at the back of her throat as she pulled her hands away, panting. She fought the urge to see whether anything had stuck to her.
“Are you all right, Lady?”
Sighing, she let go of the spell and turned to face the Watchman who stood in the doorway. He was barely older than her, in the Watch no more than a year. From the way he fidgeted, he was as anxious to finish here as she was.
“This is definitely the worst I’ve seen,” she said. That wasn’t true, of course. But she couldn’t tell him about that. Couldn’t tell anybody.
If you enjoyed this, read the rest of the chapter at my website.
Adramal knelt by the old man’s body and closed her eyes. That cut out the sights of death – the staring eyes, the unkempt hair, the shrivelled and rat-gnawed flesh. She couldn’t do anything to block the smell. Her stomach fluttered and then settled. That was one thing to be said for working in the City Watch – if you stuck with it, you got tougher. Not so long ago, the mere thought of being this close to such a disgusting corpse would have had her wanting to puke. Now, this poor fellow was just another part of her job.
She focused her attention inward, calming the surface of her mind to the smoothness of a still pond. A familiar, reassuring sequence of abstract thoughts came together in the space she’d cleared. Magic gathered from the corners of the room, eager to obey.
To her mind’s eye, the shape of the old man’s body appeared as a soft white glow, fuzzy and indistinct. It had no bright spots, which would have signified recent wounds. She tried not to form any opinions about what that meant – not even to allow any feelings about it, not yet. She let go of the spell’s thoughts, and it frayed and fell apart, as if it had never been. She paused and took a few shallow breaths, drawing in as little of the foul air as possible. Opening her eyes, she cast another spell. This one might give more information than the first, but she had to touch the corpse for it to work.
She hesitated. What if he’d died of something contagious?
Well, what if he had? She had a job to do. If she caught the disease, she could work out a cure before it got too bad. She shuddered as she touched his forehead. Her spell revealed the skull, as if she was touching it and not the worm-eaten flesh above it. But the messages from her fingertips about what they were really touching were strong enough to interfere with the information the spell presented. It was as if the man’s flesh was flowing like mud around her fingertips, exposing the bone, then reforming when she moved on. She squirmed and put more power into the spell, drowning out the sensations of his flesh.
She found no injuries to his skull or neck, nor his arms, ribs and legs. She let go of this spell and cast another that showed the major organs. Maggots wriggled in most of them, well along their way to devouring him. A cough forced itself through her lips. Acid burned at the back of her throat as she pulled her hands away, panting. She fought the urge to see whether anything had stuck to her.
“Are you all right, Lady?”
Sighing, she let go of the spell and turned to face the Watchman who stood in the doorway. He was barely older than her, in the Watch no more than a year. From the way he fidgeted, he was as anxious to finish here as she was.
“This is definitely the worst I’ve seen,” she said. That wasn’t true, of course. But she couldn’t tell him about that. Couldn’t tell anybody.
If you enjoyed this, read the rest of the chapter at my website.
Possible covers for Plague & Poison
So Plague & Poison, the second book in the Barefoot Healer series, is due out soon, and I've been trying to come up with a design for the cover. I have a fair idea what I want, but can't decide between two different versions, below:
Which do you think is better - or which would be more likely to make you click through to find out more about the book? Feel free to chip in if you think neither is particularly good...
I want some continuity with the cover of Death & Magic, below, which is the main reason for the blue cast on the second alternative.
Thanks for any and all comments and suggestions.
Test post
This is a test of the Goodreads blogging system. If this was a real post, there would be something witty or interesting here.
