Rival Gates's Blog, page 21
August 9, 2016
Tuesday Excerpt, "Revenge"
Mandrean returned the salute. Then he noticed an absence.
“Where is General Gramlick?”
The youngest of the commanders stepped forward and spoke.
“He begs your forgiveness, My lord, but he has taken quite ill and
has sent me in his stead.”
“What is the matter with him?” the emperor asked in a somber
tone.
“His leg, Sire. As you know, it has been deteriorating for some
time. The physician was forced to remove it completely today.
Even with the procedure, however, his condition continues to
worsen.”
If it had been anyone else, Mandrean would not have accepted
any excuse for missing such an important meeting. Gramlick,
however, was a special case.
Mandrean was grief-stricken in his manner. His bravado had
fled. He retreated into his throne and gestured for a servant to
come over. Quietly, the emperor ordered the servant to fetch his
master’s personal physician and send him to aid with the general.
After the servant departed, it was quiet for a moment in the hall.
The great man knew that he dare not show his weaker side and
buried his emotions for the time being.
“And who might you be that the great Gramlick would send
you in his stead?” Mandrean inquired.
“I am General Tathbar, my lord. I am his number two…his
second.”
“I am familiar with the concept of a number two, Tathbar. You
are insolent as I recall, but Gramlick must see something in you.
So go ahead, give me the report for the Western province.”
Tathbar swallowed hard and spoke at first with a high-pitched
voice. “Economically, there have been two years in a row of poor
harvests. With the Empire counting so heavily on this region for
food as well as taxes, there has been a deficit in food production
and money.
“The farmers are being hurt and desperately need help in
subsidies. What’s more, areas of marginal soil, which were farmed
every other year, have been pressed into service. The result is soil
depletion and low yields. Our analysts estimate that those lands
need to lie fallow for a minimum of two years with subsides paid
to the farmers to assure the land is left to regenerate.”
Though the statement was dry, Mandrean managed to sift
through it and find the implications. “So you’re suggesting that I
should pay more money to the farmers who are producing less so
that they don’t have to work as hard?”
Tathbar held up one palm and said, “I think you fail to see the
bigger picture here, Sire…”
Mandrean began to rage. “I fail nothing. You tell those lazy
peasants that they not only need their normal contribution this
season but must also pay what they were short from last year.
Their excuses will not be tolerated.”
“With all due respect, My Lord, no order can increase harvests.
They produce all they can, but they can only reap what the land
grows. The price of flour is rising and looks to go higher. Only
drastic action will avoid starvation and migration to the territory.”
Economics were, in large part, lost on Mandrean. He had no
skill or interest in the field. His rationalizations on the subject were
often crude and harsh. Even with that being the case, he was
prudent enough to seek council.
“What sort of action do you suggest?” the emperor inquired as
thoughts of peasant rebellions flashed through his mind.
Tathbar knew his answer would not be liked by his master and
stuttered as he gave it. “Well…we have found…a large grain
reserve in the region that could be dispersed to alleviate the
situation. Prices would stabilize and the relatively higher prices
would enable tax payments and field rotation by the farmers.”
Mandrean listened to what sounded like the perfect solution and
smiled until his skeptical side began to ponder. “And what is this
reserve you speak of?”
Tathbar paused and then responded quickly, “The stores the
Legions have amassed over the last few years for the invasion of
Romadon.”
“Out of the question,” Mandrean fired. “Our forces will need
those supplies for the prolonged offensive.”
“My lord, there is no way to invade any time soon. In the last
two years, our legions have been depleted by nearly two divisions.
We are in no condition to attack anyone. The grain disbursement
would only make use of resources being unused. In two years we
could be in a position to attack but not now.”
Mandrean was seething. “Two years? What kind of general do
you fashion yourself? And why have you allowed my armies to
erode? Gramlick would never allow this.”
“Sire, we have been hit hard by desertions. Morale is poor, and
it is due in large part to the terrible defeat in the Valley of Broken
Soldiers. We lost over a division there from my province alone.”
“Valley of Broken Soldiers? That area is called Trader’s Alley.”
“The men, Sire. They renamed it after our defeat at the hands of
Linvin Grithinshield.”
Mandrean jumped to his feet. His anger blocked the pain it
caused. “Guards.” Four guards surrounded the general and began
to whip him. The once crisp uniform was quickly torn apart and
soaked in blood. He covered his face, but there was no salvation
for the rest of his body.
“Where is General Gramlick?”
The youngest of the commanders stepped forward and spoke.
“He begs your forgiveness, My lord, but he has taken quite ill and
has sent me in his stead.”
“What is the matter with him?” the emperor asked in a somber
tone.
“His leg, Sire. As you know, it has been deteriorating for some
time. The physician was forced to remove it completely today.
Even with the procedure, however, his condition continues to
worsen.”
If it had been anyone else, Mandrean would not have accepted
any excuse for missing such an important meeting. Gramlick,
however, was a special case.
Mandrean was grief-stricken in his manner. His bravado had
fled. He retreated into his throne and gestured for a servant to
come over. Quietly, the emperor ordered the servant to fetch his
master’s personal physician and send him to aid with the general.
After the servant departed, it was quiet for a moment in the hall.
The great man knew that he dare not show his weaker side and
buried his emotions for the time being.
“And who might you be that the great Gramlick would send
you in his stead?” Mandrean inquired.
“I am General Tathbar, my lord. I am his number two…his
second.”
“I am familiar with the concept of a number two, Tathbar. You
are insolent as I recall, but Gramlick must see something in you.
So go ahead, give me the report for the Western province.”
Tathbar swallowed hard and spoke at first with a high-pitched
voice. “Economically, there have been two years in a row of poor
harvests. With the Empire counting so heavily on this region for
food as well as taxes, there has been a deficit in food production
and money.
“The farmers are being hurt and desperately need help in
subsidies. What’s more, areas of marginal soil, which were farmed
every other year, have been pressed into service. The result is soil
depletion and low yields. Our analysts estimate that those lands
need to lie fallow for a minimum of two years with subsides paid
to the farmers to assure the land is left to regenerate.”
Though the statement was dry, Mandrean managed to sift
through it and find the implications. “So you’re suggesting that I
should pay more money to the farmers who are producing less so
that they don’t have to work as hard?”
Tathbar held up one palm and said, “I think you fail to see the
bigger picture here, Sire…”
Mandrean began to rage. “I fail nothing. You tell those lazy
peasants that they not only need their normal contribution this
season but must also pay what they were short from last year.
Their excuses will not be tolerated.”
“With all due respect, My Lord, no order can increase harvests.
They produce all they can, but they can only reap what the land
grows. The price of flour is rising and looks to go higher. Only
drastic action will avoid starvation and migration to the territory.”
Economics were, in large part, lost on Mandrean. He had no
skill or interest in the field. His rationalizations on the subject were
often crude and harsh. Even with that being the case, he was
prudent enough to seek council.
“What sort of action do you suggest?” the emperor inquired as
thoughts of peasant rebellions flashed through his mind.
Tathbar knew his answer would not be liked by his master and
stuttered as he gave it. “Well…we have found…a large grain
reserve in the region that could be dispersed to alleviate the
situation. Prices would stabilize and the relatively higher prices
would enable tax payments and field rotation by the farmers.”
Mandrean listened to what sounded like the perfect solution and
smiled until his skeptical side began to ponder. “And what is this
reserve you speak of?”
Tathbar paused and then responded quickly, “The stores the
Legions have amassed over the last few years for the invasion of
Romadon.”
“Out of the question,” Mandrean fired. “Our forces will need
those supplies for the prolonged offensive.”
“My lord, there is no way to invade any time soon. In the last
two years, our legions have been depleted by nearly two divisions.
We are in no condition to attack anyone. The grain disbursement
would only make use of resources being unused. In two years we
could be in a position to attack but not now.”
Mandrean was seething. “Two years? What kind of general do
you fashion yourself? And why have you allowed my armies to
erode? Gramlick would never allow this.”
“Sire, we have been hit hard by desertions. Morale is poor, and
it is due in large part to the terrible defeat in the Valley of Broken
Soldiers. We lost over a division there from my province alone.”
“Valley of Broken Soldiers? That area is called Trader’s Alley.”
“The men, Sire. They renamed it after our defeat at the hands of
Linvin Grithinshield.”
Mandrean jumped to his feet. His anger blocked the pain it
caused. “Guards.” Four guards surrounded the general and began
to whip him. The once crisp uniform was quickly torn apart and
soaked in blood. He covered his face, but there was no salvation
for the rest of his body.
August 3, 2016
Wednesday Excerpt, "Crucible"
What your Uncle said was true about the Maker giving too much magic to too few people. The world fell into chaos in its infancy. It was then the Maker crafted the Prism of the Cosmos. He used it to disperse magic into its various colors and among a variety of people. In order to prevent any one magician from becoming too powerful he made his or her bodies the channeling device for magic. That power we call magic is in nature all around us. To harness that power a magician must channel it through his body and release it from his hands. Doing so is very taxing of frail humanoid bodies. Thus, the more power the magician channels, the more fatigued he or she becomes. The limits of the magician’s mortality are the limits of their power. It is also the reason a magician with his hands bound is powerless. They cannot disperse the magic they channel without free use of their hands.
After the Maker was finished with the Dissemination of Magic he was ridiculed by the Dark Lord. The Evil One accused him of being too generous with his gifts to his creations. The Maker countered that all of those he had made were given free will. Any additional gifts they were given would be used at the discretion of the recipient. The Dark Lord further insulted the Maker’s creations. He said that they were inherently evil and would show that he was right if magicians did not have the limits placed upon them for using their power.
The Maker knew the Dark One was trying to manipulate him into removing the restrictions and would not change his children. Instead he challenged the Dark Lord. From each end of the sapphire Prism he would dislodge one piece in the form of a magic gem. One he would let the Dark Lord give whatever mandate he wished to and the other he would inscribe with his desires for the world. Both would be sapphires of equal power. The unique part about them would be that the gems would choose the masters who could best carry out their mission.
The Maker took the stone from the red end of the prism. He gave me my mandate. The Dark Lord was given a Blue Sapphire. Into it he instilled his hatred of all life and desire for ultimate power. If the Dark Lord could not rule the Cosmos, he felt perhaps his influence could in part allow him to rule this world.
Linvin was stunned. Is there a Blue Sapphire with just as much power as you? he asked.
Its master has as much power as you, the gem corrected. Then it continued. The maker wanted to prove it was the individual who made the difference in victory or defeat. For that reason he chose two types of magic that were opposites of one another. Red and Blue Magic cancel one another out. Thus, if the two Gem Masters ever met in battle, it would be the superior person who would win the day. That is the reason the gems were allowed to choose their masters. We could pick the person who could best use our skills and also succeed without them.”
Both gems would be locked in a chest that could only be opened by one key. The chest was hidden away and the only clues to its whereabouts would come from two staffs created to harness our power. The first mission of the staff was to find its way to the person chosen to be its new master. Then the staff would lead the right person to the chest. That is one reason this staff is called ‘The Path of the Red Sapphire’. Using the staff to find the chest would prove your worthiness to be that sapphire’s master. The second reason is because it allows you to use my power.
After the Maker was finished with the Dissemination of Magic he was ridiculed by the Dark Lord. The Evil One accused him of being too generous with his gifts to his creations. The Maker countered that all of those he had made were given free will. Any additional gifts they were given would be used at the discretion of the recipient. The Dark Lord further insulted the Maker’s creations. He said that they were inherently evil and would show that he was right if magicians did not have the limits placed upon them for using their power.
The Maker knew the Dark One was trying to manipulate him into removing the restrictions and would not change his children. Instead he challenged the Dark Lord. From each end of the sapphire Prism he would dislodge one piece in the form of a magic gem. One he would let the Dark Lord give whatever mandate he wished to and the other he would inscribe with his desires for the world. Both would be sapphires of equal power. The unique part about them would be that the gems would choose the masters who could best carry out their mission.
The Maker took the stone from the red end of the prism. He gave me my mandate. The Dark Lord was given a Blue Sapphire. Into it he instilled his hatred of all life and desire for ultimate power. If the Dark Lord could not rule the Cosmos, he felt perhaps his influence could in part allow him to rule this world.
Linvin was stunned. Is there a Blue Sapphire with just as much power as you? he asked.
Its master has as much power as you, the gem corrected. Then it continued. The maker wanted to prove it was the individual who made the difference in victory or defeat. For that reason he chose two types of magic that were opposites of one another. Red and Blue Magic cancel one another out. Thus, if the two Gem Masters ever met in battle, it would be the superior person who would win the day. That is the reason the gems were allowed to choose their masters. We could pick the person who could best use our skills and also succeed without them.”
Both gems would be locked in a chest that could only be opened by one key. The chest was hidden away and the only clues to its whereabouts would come from two staffs created to harness our power. The first mission of the staff was to find its way to the person chosen to be its new master. Then the staff would lead the right person to the chest. That is one reason this staff is called ‘The Path of the Red Sapphire’. Using the staff to find the chest would prove your worthiness to be that sapphire’s master. The second reason is because it allows you to use my power.
July 26, 2016
Interview
Although I am still on vacation, an interview I had done is being posted today and I wanted all my fans to know about it. Check it out at http://lisahaseltonsreviewsandintervi...
July 17, 2016
Book Spotlight
I know I said I'd be away but Linda Book Reviews was kind enough to do a book spotlight on Mandrean Revenge. Here is the link. http://wp.me/p7tCdr-4j Enjoy!
July 13, 2016
Vacation Time
1. Ah vacation. According to Webster’s Dictionary it is defined as freedom from any activity; rest; respite; intermission
2. ⌂ a period of rest and freedom from work, study, etc.; time of recreation, usually a specific interval in a year.
Doesn’t that sound like the loveliest thing in the whole world right about now? Well, my friends, I will be taking one of these until July 27. I will be travelling from Nebraska to Toronto, Ontario Canada. There we will attend my niece’s wedding in the heart of Toronto. I will get to spend some time with family I rarely see and even deliver a signed copy of a book. It has been a number of years since I was able to actually go somewhere on vacation. This trip is long overdue. Feel free to suggest stops I should make while in Toronto. Unfortunately I will not be blogging during my trip to the Great White North. So don’t think I have forgotten you. I’ll just be enjoying my “period of rest and freedom from work.” I will talk to you in a couple of weeks!
2. ⌂ a period of rest and freedom from work, study, etc.; time of recreation, usually a specific interval in a year.
Doesn’t that sound like the loveliest thing in the whole world right about now? Well, my friends, I will be taking one of these until July 27. I will be travelling from Nebraska to Toronto, Ontario Canada. There we will attend my niece’s wedding in the heart of Toronto. I will get to spend some time with family I rarely see and even deliver a signed copy of a book. It has been a number of years since I was able to actually go somewhere on vacation. This trip is long overdue. Feel free to suggest stops I should make while in Toronto. Unfortunately I will not be blogging during my trip to the Great White North. So don’t think I have forgotten you. I’ll just be enjoying my “period of rest and freedom from work.” I will talk to you in a couple of weeks!
July 12, 2016
Tuesday Excerpt, "Quest"
Bander and Rander took a few moments to reach him. “How did you hear us talking from so far off? We were whispering.”
“It’s so quiet in here that I could hear every word you said. What a silly thing to argue over. You know,” Linvin paused in mid-sentence and looked around them. His face showed great concern. “That is what has been bothering me!” he cried in astonishment.
“That we’ve been arguing?” Bander asked.
“No,” answered Linvin. “It is too quiet. When have you ever been in a forest this quiet? You normally hear animals of some sort moving about or calling to one another. Even birds fly about. Here, there is no sound. There are no animals, no noise at all. In such a grand forest, you should hear something. You were right, Anvar. I was looking for something that did not exist. I found it.”
At first, the others appeared to discount the notion. Then they thought about their journey through the day. None of them could remember hearing or seeing a single animal.
“So what does this mean?” Rander asked.
“It means someone or something has chased all the animals from this area,” Linvin asserted.
“It appears to be a well-traveled road,” Rander noted. “Such traffic may have driven the animals from here.”
“Even the birds?” Linvin asked. “You lived in forests your entire life. Did the birds stay away from Varns?”
Rander looked at his brother and then turned back to Linvin. The twins shook their heads in unison.~
“So what do you propose we do, Linvin?” Rander asked. “Turn around and go back the way we came because we don’t hear any animals?”
Linvin was mildly annoyed. “No,” he responded. “We continue on our course, but be especially alert.”
Anvar was ordered to the rear of the party as Linvin returned to the column formation he had used in the grassland. All eyes shifted from side to side in search of Linvin’s phantom enemy. Rander became increasingly bothered by the heightened state of alert. Every time he went to speak, Linvin silenced him.
“You are letting your paranoia get the better of you, cousin,” Rander chided. “I was the greatest opponent to traveling this course, and yet you are the one obsessed with fear. Nothing has happened and still you cling to your delusions of danger.”
“Be silent,” Linvin barked while attempting to keep his voice low. “If you speak again,I will gag you and tie you to your horse with your belly in the saddle.”
Rander considered how sincere Linvin’s tone had become and chose to heed the warning. Angered by the rebuke, he urged his horse to take the lead in the formation. His brother soon followed suit and the two created an increasing amount of space between themselves and Linvin. Anvar was slowed by his custody of the mules. He could barely see Linvin along the twisting path. The twins were not visible at all.
Linvin’s alignment had been ruined by his cousins’ actions. He galloped forward to halt them and wait for Anvar. As he reached the twins he heard what sounded like a bird, calling from the trees. From another direction, came an answer.
Rander smiled as Linvin approached. “You see Linvin, there are animals here.”
Linvin was highly distraught by the sounds and called, “To arms!”
“It’s so quiet in here that I could hear every word you said. What a silly thing to argue over. You know,” Linvin paused in mid-sentence and looked around them. His face showed great concern. “That is what has been bothering me!” he cried in astonishment.
“That we’ve been arguing?” Bander asked.
“No,” answered Linvin. “It is too quiet. When have you ever been in a forest this quiet? You normally hear animals of some sort moving about or calling to one another. Even birds fly about. Here, there is no sound. There are no animals, no noise at all. In such a grand forest, you should hear something. You were right, Anvar. I was looking for something that did not exist. I found it.”
At first, the others appeared to discount the notion. Then they thought about their journey through the day. None of them could remember hearing or seeing a single animal.
“So what does this mean?” Rander asked.
“It means someone or something has chased all the animals from this area,” Linvin asserted.
“It appears to be a well-traveled road,” Rander noted. “Such traffic may have driven the animals from here.”
“Even the birds?” Linvin asked. “You lived in forests your entire life. Did the birds stay away from Varns?”
Rander looked at his brother and then turned back to Linvin. The twins shook their heads in unison.~
“So what do you propose we do, Linvin?” Rander asked. “Turn around and go back the way we came because we don’t hear any animals?”
Linvin was mildly annoyed. “No,” he responded. “We continue on our course, but be especially alert.”
Anvar was ordered to the rear of the party as Linvin returned to the column formation he had used in the grassland. All eyes shifted from side to side in search of Linvin’s phantom enemy. Rander became increasingly bothered by the heightened state of alert. Every time he went to speak, Linvin silenced him.
“You are letting your paranoia get the better of you, cousin,” Rander chided. “I was the greatest opponent to traveling this course, and yet you are the one obsessed with fear. Nothing has happened and still you cling to your delusions of danger.”
“Be silent,” Linvin barked while attempting to keep his voice low. “If you speak again,I will gag you and tie you to your horse with your belly in the saddle.”
Rander considered how sincere Linvin’s tone had become and chose to heed the warning. Angered by the rebuke, he urged his horse to take the lead in the formation. His brother soon followed suit and the two created an increasing amount of space between themselves and Linvin. Anvar was slowed by his custody of the mules. He could barely see Linvin along the twisting path. The twins were not visible at all.
Linvin’s alignment had been ruined by his cousins’ actions. He galloped forward to halt them and wait for Anvar. As he reached the twins he heard what sounded like a bird, calling from the trees. From another direction, came an answer.
Rander smiled as Linvin approached. “You see Linvin, there are animals here.”
Linvin was highly distraught by the sounds and called, “To arms!”
July 6, 2016
Wednesday Excerpt, "Crucible"
Linvin looked down at the pathetic form on the ground before him. His first impulse was to kill him right then but found the execution of such a defenseless adversary dishonorable. He did need to act quickly, as his human shield was gone. “Coward,” he branded Mandrean and kicked him in the jaw with great force. Before the guards could react, Linvin ran through the doors and yelled to Anvar, “Close them now.” Anvar stretched forth his hands and the doors glowed with orange magic. In an instant they slammed closed. “Wedge the spears between the door-handles,” Linvin ordered.
After doing so they huddled for a moment to catch their breath. “That won’t hold Necromancer for long,” Anvar commented. “I hope you have a plan.”
Before Linvin could say a word, one of the Imperial Guards on the main floor spotted them and screamed, “The prisoners have escaped. To arms.” He blew a horn by his side.
“How about that plan?” Rander asked impatiently. “Is there one?”
Linvin surveyed the grand area and answered, “No time to explain. Just do as I do.” He led his uncle and cousins along the hall toward the tapestry. Soon they took shelter behind its massive width.
Clanking of armor was heard in great numbers coming from the far hallway. On the ground floor the guards from the outside stairs entered the room and were joined by a host of others. They ran with haste toward the great staircase. Moments later the great double doors to the throne-room blasted open from the Colorful Magic of Necromancer. Though Linvin’s party was safely distant, the situation became that much direr.
“This is your plan?” asked Rander. “Hide behind a rug? They already know we are here and are coming. Can’t you do anything else with that gem at all? Where’s all the great power we heard about? We are trapped in this hallway. You have no way out. We are all doomed.”
Linvin paid little attention to the complaints. He concentrated instead on the progress of the guards coming up the stairs, the ones emerging from the far hallway and the rapidly growing group from the throne-room. His gaze shifted around the three approaching enemies as he gauged their rate of closure. Without breaking his concentration Linvin spoke firmly to his uncle. “When this is over and we are free, reminded me to beat the life out of Rander.” Anvar simply nodded in an effort not to affect Linvin’s thought process.
The guards from below reached the landing on the second level and were ascending the two side stairways. Guards took up positions at the two ends of the hall and were slowly advancing from equal distances.
Anvar finally spoke. “I can take out a few but I cannot channel enough magic for this fight.”
“Save your magic. We will need it soon. Now everyone climb onto the railing. Use the tapestry to brace yourselves.” His bewildered family did as they were told and were soon balancing on the rail. “Alright, then. Follow my lead.” Linvin placed the Red Sapphire in his pocket and stabbed his short sword through the tapestry. Then he jumped off the railing. The sword slowed his descent as it sliced through the very fiber of Mandrean bravado. Following suit, Anvar and the twins dove in a similar manor and slid down the backside of the wall hanging.
The soldiers on the stairs were in such a hurry to climb the steps that steel blades sliding down the tapestry went unnoticed. In the hallway the guards were awestruck by the spectacle and did little more than watch as their adversary escaped.
Once Linvin and the others reached the ground he led them in a race for the grand entrance. After they cleared the front of the staircase all the men could see what became of their foe. Though only moments passed, the guards on the top took an inordinate amount of time to cry out the location of Linvin’s band. All eyes turned to see them crossing the center of the room and nearing the exit. Immediately the soldiers on the stairs turned and stumbled back down the way they’d come.
It was time for Linvin’s masterstroke. He held up his fist and the party stopped. Then he turned and regarded the majestic work of art, which had been formed into a staircase. “Anvar,” he said calmly. “That needs to be gone…now.” Anvar nodded and stretched forth his hands. Concentrating longer than they had ever seen him do before, Anvar built up such an aura of orange magic that a sphere glowed around his body. All at once he released the energy just as the first guards returned to the second floor landing. The wave of magic struck the stairs with a thunderclap as they exploded sending stone and men alike hurtling through the air. Those on the top level were cut off from their main access to the first floor and Linvin.
With debris still falling to the ground, Rander resumed his path for the doors. Linvin grabbed his arm and stopped his progress. “No. Not that way. We just woke every Mandrean soldier in the city. That is the direction from which they will come. So we shall go this way.”
After doing so they huddled for a moment to catch their breath. “That won’t hold Necromancer for long,” Anvar commented. “I hope you have a plan.”
Before Linvin could say a word, one of the Imperial Guards on the main floor spotted them and screamed, “The prisoners have escaped. To arms.” He blew a horn by his side.
“How about that plan?” Rander asked impatiently. “Is there one?”
Linvin surveyed the grand area and answered, “No time to explain. Just do as I do.” He led his uncle and cousins along the hall toward the tapestry. Soon they took shelter behind its massive width.
Clanking of armor was heard in great numbers coming from the far hallway. On the ground floor the guards from the outside stairs entered the room and were joined by a host of others. They ran with haste toward the great staircase. Moments later the great double doors to the throne-room blasted open from the Colorful Magic of Necromancer. Though Linvin’s party was safely distant, the situation became that much direr.
“This is your plan?” asked Rander. “Hide behind a rug? They already know we are here and are coming. Can’t you do anything else with that gem at all? Where’s all the great power we heard about? We are trapped in this hallway. You have no way out. We are all doomed.”
Linvin paid little attention to the complaints. He concentrated instead on the progress of the guards coming up the stairs, the ones emerging from the far hallway and the rapidly growing group from the throne-room. His gaze shifted around the three approaching enemies as he gauged their rate of closure. Without breaking his concentration Linvin spoke firmly to his uncle. “When this is over and we are free, reminded me to beat the life out of Rander.” Anvar simply nodded in an effort not to affect Linvin’s thought process.
The guards from below reached the landing on the second level and were ascending the two side stairways. Guards took up positions at the two ends of the hall and were slowly advancing from equal distances.
Anvar finally spoke. “I can take out a few but I cannot channel enough magic for this fight.”
“Save your magic. We will need it soon. Now everyone climb onto the railing. Use the tapestry to brace yourselves.” His bewildered family did as they were told and were soon balancing on the rail. “Alright, then. Follow my lead.” Linvin placed the Red Sapphire in his pocket and stabbed his short sword through the tapestry. Then he jumped off the railing. The sword slowed his descent as it sliced through the very fiber of Mandrean bravado. Following suit, Anvar and the twins dove in a similar manor and slid down the backside of the wall hanging.
The soldiers on the stairs were in such a hurry to climb the steps that steel blades sliding down the tapestry went unnoticed. In the hallway the guards were awestruck by the spectacle and did little more than watch as their adversary escaped.
Once Linvin and the others reached the ground he led them in a race for the grand entrance. After they cleared the front of the staircase all the men could see what became of their foe. Though only moments passed, the guards on the top took an inordinate amount of time to cry out the location of Linvin’s band. All eyes turned to see them crossing the center of the room and nearing the exit. Immediately the soldiers on the stairs turned and stumbled back down the way they’d come.
It was time for Linvin’s masterstroke. He held up his fist and the party stopped. Then he turned and regarded the majestic work of art, which had been formed into a staircase. “Anvar,” he said calmly. “That needs to be gone…now.” Anvar nodded and stretched forth his hands. Concentrating longer than they had ever seen him do before, Anvar built up such an aura of orange magic that a sphere glowed around his body. All at once he released the energy just as the first guards returned to the second floor landing. The wave of magic struck the stairs with a thunderclap as they exploded sending stone and men alike hurtling through the air. Those on the top level were cut off from their main access to the first floor and Linvin.
With debris still falling to the ground, Rander resumed his path for the doors. Linvin grabbed his arm and stopped his progress. “No. Not that way. We just woke every Mandrean soldier in the city. That is the direction from which they will come. So we shall go this way.”
July 5, 2016
Tuesday Excerpt, "Quest"
“And you are avoiding my question!” stormed Linvin, who jumped from his chair and leaned over his uncle. “Answer me! Answer me! Is this what my father wanted?”
Anvar recalled the promise he made to Jelena. He rocked slowly while biting the end if his pipe. Linvin sat down in the chair next to him and placed his head in his hands.
The rhythmic sound of Anvar’s rocking came to an abrupt halt. Anvar stroked his nephew’s hair and whispered a word in his ear, “No.”
Linvin’s head popped up and stared at his uncle. “Then what is this all about?”
Anvar returned to his rocking and puffing. After a few moments he formulated his words and spoke, “Your mother was absolutely set against your leaving. What you have been experiencing tonight is the life your mother has envisioned for you since you were born.”
“And my father’s plan?”
“I can only hope his plan died with him. It was reckless and dangerous. With any luck at all, it would never bear fruit.”
“Tell me, Anvar, what was his plan?”
“It is not for me to say,” Anvar answered slowly. “It was not my plan.”
“So what am I supposed to do?” Linvin demanded.
Anvar looked up at the sky. Only a few clouds obscured the view. At that moment, one of the clouds had hidden the moon from sight. “Look at the sky, Linvin. Tell me, is the moon out tonight?”
Linvin leaned back and took in the sky. “Yes,” he answered simply.
“How do you know?” asked Anvar. “I do not see the moon anywhere.”
“It is right there,” pointed Linvin. “There are just some clouds blocking it from view.”
“But are you sure it is there?” asked Anvar. “Prove it to me. How can you prove that the moon is there?”
“Well,” Linvin said, rubbing his chin, “We can just wait here until it comes out from behind that cloud. Then you will see it.”
“So even though the answer may be there all along, I will not be able to see it until the time is right?” Anvar asked.
“Well, of course,” Linvin stated. “Unless you believe it is there all the time, then your only choice is to wait for it to reveal itself.”
“So you are telling me that I must just believe the moon is there until it appears and proves it? You seem quite confident in the outcome. How do you know that the moon will appear again?”
“I do not know,” said Linvin. “I guess it just always comes out sooner or later.”
Anvar smiled and remarked, “And so will the answer to your question, my boy. The answer is out there. What you must do is wait for it to present itself, just like your moon. Until then, you must believe the answer will appear.”
Anvar recalled the promise he made to Jelena. He rocked slowly while biting the end if his pipe. Linvin sat down in the chair next to him and placed his head in his hands.
The rhythmic sound of Anvar’s rocking came to an abrupt halt. Anvar stroked his nephew’s hair and whispered a word in his ear, “No.”
Linvin’s head popped up and stared at his uncle. “Then what is this all about?”
Anvar returned to his rocking and puffing. After a few moments he formulated his words and spoke, “Your mother was absolutely set against your leaving. What you have been experiencing tonight is the life your mother has envisioned for you since you were born.”
“And my father’s plan?”
“I can only hope his plan died with him. It was reckless and dangerous. With any luck at all, it would never bear fruit.”
“Tell me, Anvar, what was his plan?”
“It is not for me to say,” Anvar answered slowly. “It was not my plan.”
“So what am I supposed to do?” Linvin demanded.
Anvar looked up at the sky. Only a few clouds obscured the view. At that moment, one of the clouds had hidden the moon from sight. “Look at the sky, Linvin. Tell me, is the moon out tonight?”
Linvin leaned back and took in the sky. “Yes,” he answered simply.
“How do you know?” asked Anvar. “I do not see the moon anywhere.”
“It is right there,” pointed Linvin. “There are just some clouds blocking it from view.”
“But are you sure it is there?” asked Anvar. “Prove it to me. How can you prove that the moon is there?”
“Well,” Linvin said, rubbing his chin, “We can just wait here until it comes out from behind that cloud. Then you will see it.”
“So even though the answer may be there all along, I will not be able to see it until the time is right?” Anvar asked.
“Well, of course,” Linvin stated. “Unless you believe it is there all the time, then your only choice is to wait for it to reveal itself.”
“So you are telling me that I must just believe the moon is there until it appears and proves it? You seem quite confident in the outcome. How do you know that the moon will appear again?”
“I do not know,” said Linvin. “I guess it just always comes out sooner or later.”
Anvar smiled and remarked, “And so will the answer to your question, my boy. The answer is out there. What you must do is wait for it to present itself, just like your moon. Until then, you must believe the answer will appear.”
June 29, 2016
I Forgot To Write
Yesterday I was working on some promotional material for one of my books. Then, out of the blue, I started thinking about the movie “The Devil Wears Prada.” It’s the scene where the father is scolding the daughter for giving up being a lawyer to be a writer and now she wasn’t even doing that. He says he receives emails from her at 2 in the morning. She replies the he’s not being fair. She wrote those emails at least. Then I stopped and looked at what I was doing. I finished the first draft of my latest book months ago and it waits its turn to be edited. In the mean time I have been looking for people to review my books and feature them on their sites. They need the publicity. But my writing had been reduced to small blurbs meant to get the reader’s attention and minor guest posts. I hadn’t written anything substantial in months and I was feeling like the character in the movie. The reason I started in this business was to write and I had put it aside for too long. So I set my other work aside and decided to start the outline of my next book. There I sat with a blank screen and a blinking cursor before me, like so many other writers staring into the abyss. At first it was intimidating. Starting with nothing and building from there. Then I reminded myself that I have been going over this book in my mind every day for months. It has been planned for over 25 years. That cursor is nothing to fear. It is something to use. So I did. I began to write. It was slow at first as I cautiously hit the keys. Then it sped up as the story started flowing from me. Soon I was back. I felt like my old self. It was a glorious feeling. Pages rolled off and details I had forgotten came to mind as I put the outline to paper. I only stopped when my wife came in and basically told me she was lonely. I saved my work with pride knowing I had a toe-hold on the next book and my feeling of being a writer, restored. It is such a wonderful feeling to write. Creating images on paper is such a marvelous sensation. There is nothing else quite like it. Today I will go back to promotion work but I will return to my writing soon. It is just too much fun to ignore for so long again. Besides, once the edits on the new book arrive, the time for fun will be over.
June 28, 2016
Tuesday Excerpt, "Revenge"
Lord Mandrean walked hurriedly down the illustrious halls of
Marinhalk. Four soldiers of his imperial guard marched in tow.
Though the emperor’s mind focused on the health of General
Gramlick, he could not help but notice the flamboyant decorative
uniform of one of his guards. Falling back into the middle of the
group he sneered and commented. “It has been nearly two weeks
since I gave you the title of Commander of the imperial guard,
Acreas. Do you not think it is time to return to your normal
uniform?”
Commander Acreas was in front of his master but could display
his fiendish grin without fear of retribution. “This is a dream I
have worked hard to fulfill. In only two years as a member of the
guard, I have risen to become its leader. While Your Eminence
was the one who gave me my insignia, it was only after I had
defeated all challengers in the jousting tournament. This rank was
earned. I should think you would be pleased. Clearly my superior
breeding has produced a finely honed weapon in your arsenal.”
Mandrean begrudged every word knowing that Acreas was his
illegitimate son through Betrimpia, his first of over one-hundred
concubines. Everyone knew the lineage to be true. The emperor
simply would not acknowledge the boy’s birthright publicly for his
own reasons. “I care nothing for your ‘breeding’.” Mandrean
fibbed. “Your mother is the most annoying, bull-headed woman I
have ever known. Since you were old enough to walk, you have
had the most prized tutors and instructors in the empire.
Considering nearly all of the senior guardsmen were lost in
Trader’s Alley, it would have been stunning if you had not won the
contest for leadership.
“I still recall the gloating expression on your mother’s face
when you were given this command. She had the cold, wicked
glare of someone who had won a bet and was going to let her
money ride. To an emperor with a new commander of the guard,
that was a worrisome look. The guard’s main purpose, after all, is
to protect me against all others. Is this so with you and your men?”
Acreas could see the distrust in the emperor’s face as he
glanced back. The entire situation was a game to the youngest man
ever to be commander of the guard. He viewed his father with
contempt and hatred. Acreas had no delusions that the man he
served was anywhere close to his intellectual equal. Thus, the
game continued.
“You have sent me to every battle since I joined the guard, and
the men trust me. They have sworn to follow my commands. In the
same way I have sworn to follow your orders, My Emperor.”
Acreas nodded his head with the statement.
Marinhalk. Four soldiers of his imperial guard marched in tow.
Though the emperor’s mind focused on the health of General
Gramlick, he could not help but notice the flamboyant decorative
uniform of one of his guards. Falling back into the middle of the
group he sneered and commented. “It has been nearly two weeks
since I gave you the title of Commander of the imperial guard,
Acreas. Do you not think it is time to return to your normal
uniform?”
Commander Acreas was in front of his master but could display
his fiendish grin without fear of retribution. “This is a dream I
have worked hard to fulfill. In only two years as a member of the
guard, I have risen to become its leader. While Your Eminence
was the one who gave me my insignia, it was only after I had
defeated all challengers in the jousting tournament. This rank was
earned. I should think you would be pleased. Clearly my superior
breeding has produced a finely honed weapon in your arsenal.”
Mandrean begrudged every word knowing that Acreas was his
illegitimate son through Betrimpia, his first of over one-hundred
concubines. Everyone knew the lineage to be true. The emperor
simply would not acknowledge the boy’s birthright publicly for his
own reasons. “I care nothing for your ‘breeding’.” Mandrean
fibbed. “Your mother is the most annoying, bull-headed woman I
have ever known. Since you were old enough to walk, you have
had the most prized tutors and instructors in the empire.
Considering nearly all of the senior guardsmen were lost in
Trader’s Alley, it would have been stunning if you had not won the
contest for leadership.
“I still recall the gloating expression on your mother’s face
when you were given this command. She had the cold, wicked
glare of someone who had won a bet and was going to let her
money ride. To an emperor with a new commander of the guard,
that was a worrisome look. The guard’s main purpose, after all, is
to protect me against all others. Is this so with you and your men?”
Acreas could see the distrust in the emperor’s face as he
glanced back. The entire situation was a game to the youngest man
ever to be commander of the guard. He viewed his father with
contempt and hatred. Acreas had no delusions that the man he
served was anywhere close to his intellectual equal. Thus, the
game continued.
“You have sent me to every battle since I joined the guard, and
the men trust me. They have sworn to follow my commands. In the
same way I have sworn to follow your orders, My Emperor.”
Acreas nodded his head with the statement.
