Rival Gates's Blog, page 39
June 27, 2015
Saturday Excerpt, Quest
“In leaving Letheria, I saw little opportunity to the west or east, so I followed the mountains to their southern point. From there, the Silver River divides the plains of the Mandreans to the east and Romadon to the west. The river is fast flowing, particularly this time of year, and was far too treacherous to navigate. Over the years, the river has cut a steep gorge through the land as it flows to the Sorrowful Sea. To travel along its banks is impossible. One must travel on one side or the other along the edge of the gorge.
“On the Mandrean sides, there were Legions encamped along the entire length of the ravine. On the Romadonian side, there were only scattered watchtowers. Not wanting to draw any great attention to myself, I chose to travel by way of Romadon. Once I reached The Territory, I skirted the Western Forest in order to avoid the Demon Marshes and then headed east to see what fortune might bring. I think you can pick up the story from there.”
Linvin’s ears came to attention at the names with which he was unfamiliar. He produced the map he had taken from the goblins and laid it before Newminor. “Can you show me those places on the map?” he asked.
As it happened, Newminor was fond of maps and delighted in seeing the one at his feet. “Say, this is a very detailed map. Look over here, that is the tail end of the Silver River.”
Linvin pointed directly at the area labeled 'AVOID' and asked, “Are these the Demon Marshes to which you referred?”
Newminor looked and chuckled to himself. “Avoid, how cute. Well, I suppose that gets the point across, doesn’t it? Those are indeed the Demon Marshes, and not even the bravest souls dare journey near.”
“What is it that scares you so?” Bander asked innocently.
Newminor smoothly spread his arms apart and corrected the elf. “Hey! I am not scared of anything.” He paused for a moment and looked at the map. His eyes grew large as he stared at the region. “I simply see no need to go looking for trouble, and entering that area invites trouble.”
Never one to pick up on subtleties, Bander continued his probe. “Then what sort of trouble would one get into if they went there?”
Newminor looked at each member of Linvin’s company in disbelief. “You know, when I said you folks were out here without a clue, I was just having fun at your expense, but you really know nothing about anything outside Sartan, do you?” Before anyone could respond he continued, “Well, that speaks pretty poorly of your nation. They think they are so powerful and mighty, yet their own people are ignorant of what lies beyond their borders. How sad. This probably isn’t even your map, is it? Let me guess, you took it from the goblins and can’t interpret the symbols. I can’t believe I even let such a pathetic bunch come to my aid. In the future, I must be more choosey with my associates.” He strode over to the fire and tasted the stew cooking. Then he took a slice of jerky and lay down on his blanket.
Linvin showed controlled irritation. “My good Newminor, your flagrant insults are indeed distracting, but you have once again spoken volumes without answering the question placed before you. So please relent with the sarcasm and answer my cousin’s question. To this point, you have been amusing, but the time has come for plain talk. Tell us about the Demon Marshes or pack your bags and leave.”
“On the Mandrean sides, there were Legions encamped along the entire length of the ravine. On the Romadonian side, there were only scattered watchtowers. Not wanting to draw any great attention to myself, I chose to travel by way of Romadon. Once I reached The Territory, I skirted the Western Forest in order to avoid the Demon Marshes and then headed east to see what fortune might bring. I think you can pick up the story from there.”
Linvin’s ears came to attention at the names with which he was unfamiliar. He produced the map he had taken from the goblins and laid it before Newminor. “Can you show me those places on the map?” he asked.
As it happened, Newminor was fond of maps and delighted in seeing the one at his feet. “Say, this is a very detailed map. Look over here, that is the tail end of the Silver River.”
Linvin pointed directly at the area labeled 'AVOID' and asked, “Are these the Demon Marshes to which you referred?”
Newminor looked and chuckled to himself. “Avoid, how cute. Well, I suppose that gets the point across, doesn’t it? Those are indeed the Demon Marshes, and not even the bravest souls dare journey near.”
“What is it that scares you so?” Bander asked innocently.
Newminor smoothly spread his arms apart and corrected the elf. “Hey! I am not scared of anything.” He paused for a moment and looked at the map. His eyes grew large as he stared at the region. “I simply see no need to go looking for trouble, and entering that area invites trouble.”
Never one to pick up on subtleties, Bander continued his probe. “Then what sort of trouble would one get into if they went there?”
Newminor looked at each member of Linvin’s company in disbelief. “You know, when I said you folks were out here without a clue, I was just having fun at your expense, but you really know nothing about anything outside Sartan, do you?” Before anyone could respond he continued, “Well, that speaks pretty poorly of your nation. They think they are so powerful and mighty, yet their own people are ignorant of what lies beyond their borders. How sad. This probably isn’t even your map, is it? Let me guess, you took it from the goblins and can’t interpret the symbols. I can’t believe I even let such a pathetic bunch come to my aid. In the future, I must be more choosey with my associates.” He strode over to the fire and tasted the stew cooking. Then he took a slice of jerky and lay down on his blanket.
Linvin showed controlled irritation. “My good Newminor, your flagrant insults are indeed distracting, but you have once again spoken volumes without answering the question placed before you. So please relent with the sarcasm and answer my cousin’s question. To this point, you have been amusing, but the time has come for plain talk. Tell us about the Demon Marshes or pack your bags and leave.”
June 25, 2015
Guest Post
Rose’s Reads Blog was kind enough to give me a guest post on their site today. I decided to write about “The Pressure to Write Sex” in my industry. I’m quite proud of the piece and it shines light on a growing issue in the writing industry. You can read it at http://rosesreids.com/2015/06/24/gues... It starts about half way down the page. Enjoy.
June 24, 2015
Belated Father's Day
I contemplated writing this blog since Sunday. This is my first Father’s Day with no one to call. The saddest part was when I picked up the phone to call my Dad and realized I had removed his name from the memory of the phone. A lonely, sinking feeling set in. Father’s Day calls were never long. At most they lasted 6 minutes. 1 minute was spent exchanging pleasantries and the next five my father spent trying to get off the phone. I often wondered if he knew he wasn’t paying for the call. No matter. It was never an exciting call but it was a routine and an obligation. One of Dad’s famous quotes to me as a child helped soften the blow. Mixing the bible with his own words he told me that it was my duty in life to leave my parents and go start my own family and home. If I accomplished that then he would be a successful parent. Well, I did as he instructed and have my own home and family now. My children are getting older and one is even setting up his own home. So now I’m the one who gets the phone calls and special day. I take great pride in being a father and husband for that matter. I look at how much thought went into the gifts I was given and I cannot help thinking of all the gifts I have agonized over throughout the years. I have a wonderful family and would never want to change them. Then I look at the phone. I think of my father’s voice and a tear forms in my eye. My daughter gets me a Diet Pepsi out of the refrigerator and hands it to me. Dad didn’t drink as I find I don’t (conflicts with medication) now. Dad was addicted to Diet Pepsi and as kids we would sneak some when he wasn’t looking. Just like him I prefer the pop chilled rather than over ice. My children know that and keep several cans cold for me as I have inherited my father’s love of that drink. I sipped my pop and set the phone down. There was no longer any call to make. Maybe that’s alright. Maybe Dad did his job and sent me on my way. He gave me sound morals to guide me and a general direction in which to sail. I have a lot to thank him for and I hope where he is now he knows it. But I still miss making that phone call.
June 23, 2015
New Excerpt, Solsticepublish, @Solsticeshadows
Linvin observed an old elf leaving the town pub down the
street. He had a slight limp, which he normally worked hard to
disguise. On that evening, he was in a hurry and noticeably
favored one leg.
“I say,” Linvin called out. “You were in the pub a little later
than usual, Elzer. Night is nearly upon us and not a lamp is lit in
the whole town. Your duties are in need of tending.”
“I know,” he answered while grabbing his special pole for the
task. “Drinks were two for one, and I forgot about the time.”
Linvin picked up his cup and sipped. The tea was cold. He had
not realized how much time had passed while he was on the
balcony. “Do not worry, Elzer. Time can go by rather quickly
when one is busy.”
Elzer stopped below Number 7. “Mr. Grithinshield, my kind sir,
the wife will tie me to the trunk if I’m late getting home. You
know how she disapproves of spirits. And I was wondering
if…you know…you could.” Elzer waved his hand in a circle.
Linvin broke out laughing at the sight of the pantomime. Elzer
appeared desperate. “You needn’t but do it this once, sir. I promise
I won’t never ask another thing from you so long as I live. But that
won’t be long if’n the missus finds out I’ve dipped my bill.”
Linvin composed himself and said while chuckling, “Well, I
could not allow a fellow gent to get in that kind of trouble. Hold
on.” He stepped away from the rail for a moment and returned
with the staff that the Red Sapphire called home. He held it aloft,
and it turned a fiery red. Pointing it at one of the lamps, he released
a bolt of magic that struck the wick. The red magic rapidly flew
from one light to the next until all of them were burning.
“You’re an angel,” Elzer cried. “I’ll have the wife bake you a
pie for this, sir. Your fav’rit is cherry-berry isn’t it?”
Linvin laughed and nodded. “Cherry-berry it is,” he answered.
Elzer nodded back and ran down the street.
Linvin turned his attention to the tea he was holding. His
eyebrows wrinkled as he concentrated. Soon his hand lit up with
red magic, and the cup was emerged in a red aura. After a few
moments, he relaxed his face allowing his hand and the steaming
cup to return to their normal colors.
He sipped and looked out over the rail. Dusk turned to night
before his eyes. Storm clouds took place overhead to obscure the
moonlight. The rainy season, it seemed, would pay another visit.
Illumination was left in the hands of the street lamps and lights
shining from houses and trees
street. He had a slight limp, which he normally worked hard to
disguise. On that evening, he was in a hurry and noticeably
favored one leg.
“I say,” Linvin called out. “You were in the pub a little later
than usual, Elzer. Night is nearly upon us and not a lamp is lit in
the whole town. Your duties are in need of tending.”
“I know,” he answered while grabbing his special pole for the
task. “Drinks were two for one, and I forgot about the time.”
Linvin picked up his cup and sipped. The tea was cold. He had
not realized how much time had passed while he was on the
balcony. “Do not worry, Elzer. Time can go by rather quickly
when one is busy.”
Elzer stopped below Number 7. “Mr. Grithinshield, my kind sir,
the wife will tie me to the trunk if I’m late getting home. You
know how she disapproves of spirits. And I was wondering
if…you know…you could.” Elzer waved his hand in a circle.
Linvin broke out laughing at the sight of the pantomime. Elzer
appeared desperate. “You needn’t but do it this once, sir. I promise
I won’t never ask another thing from you so long as I live. But that
won’t be long if’n the missus finds out I’ve dipped my bill.”
Linvin composed himself and said while chuckling, “Well, I
could not allow a fellow gent to get in that kind of trouble. Hold
on.” He stepped away from the rail for a moment and returned
with the staff that the Red Sapphire called home. He held it aloft,
and it turned a fiery red. Pointing it at one of the lamps, he released
a bolt of magic that struck the wick. The red magic rapidly flew
from one light to the next until all of them were burning.
“You’re an angel,” Elzer cried. “I’ll have the wife bake you a
pie for this, sir. Your fav’rit is cherry-berry isn’t it?”
Linvin laughed and nodded. “Cherry-berry it is,” he answered.
Elzer nodded back and ran down the street.
Linvin turned his attention to the tea he was holding. His
eyebrows wrinkled as he concentrated. Soon his hand lit up with
red magic, and the cup was emerged in a red aura. After a few
moments, he relaxed his face allowing his hand and the steaming
cup to return to their normal colors.
He sipped and looked out over the rail. Dusk turned to night
before his eyes. Storm clouds took place overhead to obscure the
moonlight. The rainy season, it seemed, would pay another visit.
Illumination was left in the hands of the street lamps and lights
shining from houses and trees
June 21, 2015
Sunday Excerpt, "Crucible"
In the poorly lit cells of the prison, Anvar and the twins rested as Linvin sat against the wall opposite Miri and picked at the straw on the floor. For her part, Miri leaned against the far side of the same wall. She held her knees tightly to her chest and rested her head upon them.
“Do you know what I really miss seeing since I have been here?” she asked Linvin.
“There is only one thing?” Linvin answered with a laugh.
She chuckled before answering, “Alright Captain Sarcasm, you know what I mean. I miss seeing the sky. At home the sky just seemed to go forever. When there were clouds, they were always so high and distant. When the sun would set, brilliant hues of peach, yellow, red, silver and a host of other colors painted the sky like an ever-changing canvas. Every sunset was a spectacle to see. As much as I enjoyed watching them, I do not think I really appreciated their majesty until I no longer had the opportunity to view them.”
“I too have seen my share of gorgeous sunsets,” Linvin agreed. “One would think the sunrises would be as marvelous. Perhaps they were. For me, though, sunrise usually involved trepidation on my part. It often signaled the start of a march, or battle. More recently it meant the beginning of another day of a journey into the unknown.”
“That’s not a very positive way to see something so wonderful,” Miri noted.
“I suppose,” Linvin answered. “Many times it seems one’s perspective is colored by the end of the sword they see before them.”
Miri added to his thought, “Or perhaps it is colored by the fact that you see every day involving a sword?”
Linvin’s voice strengthened and he spoke with pride. “I did not choose the road I have traveled. Nor have I shirked the responsibilities given to me. Someone must hold the sword and fight so others can view sunsets. For a time I was ashamed of my past. Now I see it was simply part of my training for a greater purpose. I only hope I have the opportunity to finish my mandate.”
Miri felt guilty for her ignorant statement. She struggled to find the words to make the situation right once again. “I know we agreed not to divulge too much information in here,” she said. “Whatever your goal may be, I hope you attain it.”
“Do you know what I really miss seeing since I have been here?” she asked Linvin.
“There is only one thing?” Linvin answered with a laugh.
She chuckled before answering, “Alright Captain Sarcasm, you know what I mean. I miss seeing the sky. At home the sky just seemed to go forever. When there were clouds, they were always so high and distant. When the sun would set, brilliant hues of peach, yellow, red, silver and a host of other colors painted the sky like an ever-changing canvas. Every sunset was a spectacle to see. As much as I enjoyed watching them, I do not think I really appreciated their majesty until I no longer had the opportunity to view them.”
“I too have seen my share of gorgeous sunsets,” Linvin agreed. “One would think the sunrises would be as marvelous. Perhaps they were. For me, though, sunrise usually involved trepidation on my part. It often signaled the start of a march, or battle. More recently it meant the beginning of another day of a journey into the unknown.”
“That’s not a very positive way to see something so wonderful,” Miri noted.
“I suppose,” Linvin answered. “Many times it seems one’s perspective is colored by the end of the sword they see before them.”
Miri added to his thought, “Or perhaps it is colored by the fact that you see every day involving a sword?”
Linvin’s voice strengthened and he spoke with pride. “I did not choose the road I have traveled. Nor have I shirked the responsibilities given to me. Someone must hold the sword and fight so others can view sunsets. For a time I was ashamed of my past. Now I see it was simply part of my training for a greater purpose. I only hope I have the opportunity to finish my mandate.”
Miri felt guilty for her ignorant statement. She struggled to find the words to make the situation right once again. “I know we agreed not to divulge too much information in here,” she said. “Whatever your goal may be, I hope you attain it.”
June 20, 2015
Saturday Excerpt, "Quest"
“The one real change, was in the formation of the Legions. The old Mandrean Legion had 5000 men. At least 500 were heavy horse. Another 500 or so were bowmen and the rest were infantry and militia. Well, goblins and horses just do not mix, never have and never will. So scratch the cavalry right there. In fact, the only standing cavalry unit in the Empire anymore, is Lord Mandrean’s own personal Imperial Guard. Though sizable, they are not part of the Legions.
“Next was the bow. It’s an alien weapon to a goblin. With short arms and poor manual dexterity, they could no more use a bow than grow taller. So other than a few humans here and there, the bowmen were scrapped as well. That left a great mass of goblin infantry with a few humans at the control. One would think that would spell disaster for the Mandreans, but their new soldiers have been quite loyal to the Empire. Such an army is well suited for keeping riotous subjects in check.”
“That is all fine,” Linvin noted, “but what would a Mandrean patrol be doing in the Territory?”
“When the treaty creating the Territory was signed,” Newminor began, “it provided that neither side held claim to the land and therefore, neither side could patrol the Territory. However, goblins in plainclothes have been patrolling out here for years to keep an eye on Sartan. Were they to be discovered by anyone from Sartan who actually cared, they could simply be written off as a wayward band of goblins. That would explain why you made no mention of uniforms earlier.”
Anvar had silently listened to the conversation. He spoke at last, “You mean to say we killed an entire Mandrean patrol?”
Newminor smiled sarcastically and answered, “If they are all dead I would have to say yes. But don’t worry, so long as no one comes across the bodies, they won’t be missed for months. Still, you might want to rid yourselves of their weapons and skins. It’s sort of a dead giveaway.”
The news was sobering to the last. Linvin again began to feel a bit concerned. Were the bodies hidden well enough to avoid detection? Would the Mandreans be after them now too? What other dangers were out here that they didn’t know about? Upon consideration, he was feeling guarded but still mostly confident in their actions.
“Next was the bow. It’s an alien weapon to a goblin. With short arms and poor manual dexterity, they could no more use a bow than grow taller. So other than a few humans here and there, the bowmen were scrapped as well. That left a great mass of goblin infantry with a few humans at the control. One would think that would spell disaster for the Mandreans, but their new soldiers have been quite loyal to the Empire. Such an army is well suited for keeping riotous subjects in check.”
“That is all fine,” Linvin noted, “but what would a Mandrean patrol be doing in the Territory?”
“When the treaty creating the Territory was signed,” Newminor began, “it provided that neither side held claim to the land and therefore, neither side could patrol the Territory. However, goblins in plainclothes have been patrolling out here for years to keep an eye on Sartan. Were they to be discovered by anyone from Sartan who actually cared, they could simply be written off as a wayward band of goblins. That would explain why you made no mention of uniforms earlier.”
Anvar had silently listened to the conversation. He spoke at last, “You mean to say we killed an entire Mandrean patrol?”
Newminor smiled sarcastically and answered, “If they are all dead I would have to say yes. But don’t worry, so long as no one comes across the bodies, they won’t be missed for months. Still, you might want to rid yourselves of their weapons and skins. It’s sort of a dead giveaway.”
The news was sobering to the last. Linvin again began to feel a bit concerned. Were the bodies hidden well enough to avoid detection? Would the Mandreans be after them now too? What other dangers were out here that they didn’t know about? Upon consideration, he was feeling guarded but still mostly confident in their actions.
June 16, 2015
BOOK 3 IS PUBLISHED!
At long last the 3rd book in the Sapphire Chronicles has been published. “Mandrean Revenge” takes place two years after the end of “The Sapphire Crucible.” Things have not been going well for the Mandrean Empire. With rebellion in the air, the current Lord Mandrean has a decision to make. He can either go to great lengths to solve the many problems in the empire in order to calm his riotous subjects or he can place all the blame at Linvin Grithinshield’s feet for making the people lose faith. Mandrean chooses the second and easier option of making Linvin his scapegoat. In order to prove his dominance over Linvin and make the great half elf pay for his crimes, he must be lured back to the empire and defeated for all to see. Knowing Linvin will not come of his own accord, Mandrean must force him to travel to certain death. In order to give Linvin incentive, his Uncle Anvar is taken hostage and offered in exchange for Linvin’s arrival in the north. Unwilling to sacrifice the elf that has been like a father to him, Linvin sets out for the empire. He will find the trip wrought with danger…
This is a shorter book than my fans are used to but there are reasons for that. It is a fun read. There are some new twists on the story I don’t think you’ll suspect. It was really exciting to write and I can’t wait to get some feedback. Enjoy!
It is available at:
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1L9c76S
Barnes & Noble : http://bit.ly/1QYOL2y
This is a shorter book than my fans are used to but there are reasons for that. It is a fun read. There are some new twists on the story I don’t think you’ll suspect. It was really exciting to write and I can’t wait to get some feedback. Enjoy!
It is available at:
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1L9c76S
Barnes & Noble : http://bit.ly/1QYOL2y
June 14, 2015
Sunday Excerpt, "Crucible"
Mandrean pounded the blunt end of the rod on the ground and called out, “Maxion. Has your Legion arrived yet or will you be joining that guard across the room?”
Maxion snapped to his feet and quickly bowed. “My Lord and Master, they arrived this morning and have already begun policing the city. Marshal Law has been implemented and there will be no further pillaging. Your Imperial Guard is free to follow you into the fray.”
“Be sure you and your soldiers do not fatten yourselves at the cost of my city,” Mandrean said. “Your life means little to me and the thought of ending it would not cause me the slightest regret.”
“As always.” Maxion said calmly. “My only desire is to serve you and the Empire. There will be no corruption under my watch.”
“That would be a first” Mandrean sneered. “Now leave my site and attend to your duties.” Maxion bowed and left the room with all possible speed.
“Donorus.” Mandrean yelled. “Where are you with your orders?”
Donorus called his pawns to the great map. “With the disruption to the Fifth Division, the Sixth has been sent to bolster the defense at the mouth of the Mystic River. They are double-timing their march and should link up before the end of the day. Even if he traveled all day and night, Grithinshield could not reach the river before my reinforcements.
“The Seventh and Eighth Divisions are moving into position as you instructed. It will take several days but I am confident they will create an impenetrable web to prevent any escape to the east.”
“Your search is moving too slowly.” barked Mandrean. “Take personal command of your forces and see that they leave no holes through which Grithinshield can escape.”
Donorus nodded and bowed in his armor. “By you leave,” he said as he turned and left the court.
Mandrean turned his gaze on Tecious. The old man did not wait for his name to be called. He knew his Master’s questions and answered preemptively. “Your quarry was last seen headed due south on the main highway out of Marinhalk. There was no sign of them at the nearest town and no road branched off between here and there. I must therefore conclude that they have gone off-road. The wet fall in the northern part of the province has left much of the grain crops in the fields. To a general like Grithinshield it would give ideal cover for an escape.”
“What of your men?” Mandrean demanded. “Are they searching for them as I ordered?”
“My Emperor, patrols have been dispatched to every chokepoint where they might travel. Their orders are to report but not engage our enemy. If they are indeed fleeing to the south, they will inevitably be spotted. What you do with them from there is your decision, My Emperor.” Tecious turned and hobbled beck to his seat.
Then he placed his cane proudly in front of himself and rested both hands upon its handle.
Mandrean simply nodded and then looked to Gramlick. “Well, Old One?” he asked. “Are your forces on the move as I commanded?”
Gramlick showed great offense at the title and stared at his former pupil with an icy glare that even made the overly pompous Emperor quiver. After what felt like eternity, Gramlick stated plainly, “Either address me by my title or turn me to ashes. I am no dog deserving of a verbal lashing.”
Mandrean had become quite impressed with his new power and ever more arrogant. Even so he realized he’d crossed the line with the wrong person. He found himself in a position where he desperately needed to save face but had to make a concession. He could not apologize or back down. He needed another solution. With the eyes of the court fixed on the ruler, he found a compromise.
“I believe I misspoke,” Mandrean said casually. “I had meant to say ‘Old Friend’. It would seem minor pleasantries evaded me at this crucial juncture.”
Gramlick was all too aware of the situation and decided to give one last pass to his Emperor. “I should have figured it was an oversight, My Lord” he graciously commented. “Let me advise you of my efforts.
“As I had suspected, Linvin is fleeing south for the Sorrowful Sea. Should he be unable to cross, he will run into fierce opposition to the west. I have strengthened the garrisons along the Lake and have the equivalent of two full divisions methodically pressing eastward. They will be slow but unwavering. If Linvin stays in the Empire he will not be able to avoid my soldiers. Are my efforts satisfactory, My Emperor?”
Maxion snapped to his feet and quickly bowed. “My Lord and Master, they arrived this morning and have already begun policing the city. Marshal Law has been implemented and there will be no further pillaging. Your Imperial Guard is free to follow you into the fray.”
“Be sure you and your soldiers do not fatten yourselves at the cost of my city,” Mandrean said. “Your life means little to me and the thought of ending it would not cause me the slightest regret.”
“As always.” Maxion said calmly. “My only desire is to serve you and the Empire. There will be no corruption under my watch.”
“That would be a first” Mandrean sneered. “Now leave my site and attend to your duties.” Maxion bowed and left the room with all possible speed.
“Donorus.” Mandrean yelled. “Where are you with your orders?”
Donorus called his pawns to the great map. “With the disruption to the Fifth Division, the Sixth has been sent to bolster the defense at the mouth of the Mystic River. They are double-timing their march and should link up before the end of the day. Even if he traveled all day and night, Grithinshield could not reach the river before my reinforcements.
“The Seventh and Eighth Divisions are moving into position as you instructed. It will take several days but I am confident they will create an impenetrable web to prevent any escape to the east.”
“Your search is moving too slowly.” barked Mandrean. “Take personal command of your forces and see that they leave no holes through which Grithinshield can escape.”
Donorus nodded and bowed in his armor. “By you leave,” he said as he turned and left the court.
Mandrean turned his gaze on Tecious. The old man did not wait for his name to be called. He knew his Master’s questions and answered preemptively. “Your quarry was last seen headed due south on the main highway out of Marinhalk. There was no sign of them at the nearest town and no road branched off between here and there. I must therefore conclude that they have gone off-road. The wet fall in the northern part of the province has left much of the grain crops in the fields. To a general like Grithinshield it would give ideal cover for an escape.”
“What of your men?” Mandrean demanded. “Are they searching for them as I ordered?”
“My Emperor, patrols have been dispatched to every chokepoint where they might travel. Their orders are to report but not engage our enemy. If they are indeed fleeing to the south, they will inevitably be spotted. What you do with them from there is your decision, My Emperor.” Tecious turned and hobbled beck to his seat.
Then he placed his cane proudly in front of himself and rested both hands upon its handle.
Mandrean simply nodded and then looked to Gramlick. “Well, Old One?” he asked. “Are your forces on the move as I commanded?”
Gramlick showed great offense at the title and stared at his former pupil with an icy glare that even made the overly pompous Emperor quiver. After what felt like eternity, Gramlick stated plainly, “Either address me by my title or turn me to ashes. I am no dog deserving of a verbal lashing.”
Mandrean had become quite impressed with his new power and ever more arrogant. Even so he realized he’d crossed the line with the wrong person. He found himself in a position where he desperately needed to save face but had to make a concession. He could not apologize or back down. He needed another solution. With the eyes of the court fixed on the ruler, he found a compromise.
“I believe I misspoke,” Mandrean said casually. “I had meant to say ‘Old Friend’. It would seem minor pleasantries evaded me at this crucial juncture.”
Gramlick was all too aware of the situation and decided to give one last pass to his Emperor. “I should have figured it was an oversight, My Lord” he graciously commented. “Let me advise you of my efforts.
“As I had suspected, Linvin is fleeing south for the Sorrowful Sea. Should he be unable to cross, he will run into fierce opposition to the west. I have strengthened the garrisons along the Lake and have the equivalent of two full divisions methodically pressing eastward. They will be slow but unwavering. If Linvin stays in the Empire he will not be able to avoid my soldiers. Are my efforts satisfactory, My Emperor?”
June 13, 2015
Saturday Excerpt, "Quest"
“Some days back, we were camped in a small wood when we were attacked by a goodly number of goblins. We think they were Cangons. In defending ourselves, we slew them. The bodies were buried and their remaining possessions hidden. Perhaps you could enlighten us as to what they were doing so far from The Nations?”
Newminor looked away and began talking to himself as if in a soliloquy. “Judging by the number of skins here, there must have been an entire patrol. If they took the swords from the goblins, then the blades must have been superior to their own weapons. So these simpletons wiped out an entire goblin patrol with inferior means?”
Newminor turned and regarded the party again. “You mean to say that the four of you killed an entire goblin patrol?”
“Well actually,” Bander corrected, “it was mostly Linvin who done it.”
“Just you, Elf-Man?”
Linvin looked Newminor in the eyes and said, “There was no other choice.”
“No,” responded Newminor as he took in the enormity of the event, “I don’t suppose there was.”
“Have you any idea who they were?” Linvin asked.
Newminor came out of his daze and returned to his normal self. “Is it not obvious to you? Well, it must not be if you are asking the question. They were a Mandrean Army patrol.”
“Mandreans,” Rander repeated. “We just told you they were goblins.”
“When I said you were without a clue, I can see I was more correct than I thought,” Newminor chided. “Okay, kids, here’s a short lesson to bring you up to speed.”
“After the War of the Unclaimed Territory, there was a huge age gap within the Mandrean Empire. Most of the men of fighting age were dead. That meant the Legions were decimated. Without Legions, there would be no empire. Lord Mandrean the Thirteenth was not going to let that happen. He needed to replenish his forces quickly so as not to lose control of conquered lands and also to seek restitution for the war by capturing new ones.
“As I said earlier, between the Goblin Nations and the Mandrean Empire are the Endless Mountains. The clan of goblins nearest to them is called the Cangons. Among the clans, they are unique. Their population is greater than that of all the other warring Goblin Nations combined. However, their lands are nearly devoid of all natural resources: metal for armor and weapons, trees for building, and even quality farmland to feed them. These are the chains which hold them back from conquest of the Nations.
“They are also the only people who know the strange and winding paths through the mountains. As a result, they looted Mandrean villages near the border, constantly over the years. To keep Legions there for protection, was both costly and futile considering the area that needed to be guarded.
“Lord Mandrean had a plan. He made a deal with the Cangons. He would sell them food, weapons and what have you, in return for infantry goblins.”
“You mean slaves?” Rander interrupted.
“That’s hardly the term,” Newminor told him in disgust. “Actually, it was a good deal all the way around. For the Cangons, they were able to reduce their overpopulation and solve their food crisis at the same time. The reduction of Cangon soldiers, however, still prevented them from conquering the nations. For those bought by the Mandreans, their lifestyle in the Legions was far superior to anything in the Nations.
“As for the Mandreans, they no longer had to worry about raiders coming out of the mountains. The Legions were now fully manned with fierce warriors who would fight to the death, without reservation, and they could continue with the business of the Empire.
Newminor looked away and began talking to himself as if in a soliloquy. “Judging by the number of skins here, there must have been an entire patrol. If they took the swords from the goblins, then the blades must have been superior to their own weapons. So these simpletons wiped out an entire goblin patrol with inferior means?”
Newminor turned and regarded the party again. “You mean to say that the four of you killed an entire goblin patrol?”
“Well actually,” Bander corrected, “it was mostly Linvin who done it.”
“Just you, Elf-Man?”
Linvin looked Newminor in the eyes and said, “There was no other choice.”
“No,” responded Newminor as he took in the enormity of the event, “I don’t suppose there was.”
“Have you any idea who they were?” Linvin asked.
Newminor came out of his daze and returned to his normal self. “Is it not obvious to you? Well, it must not be if you are asking the question. They were a Mandrean Army patrol.”
“Mandreans,” Rander repeated. “We just told you they were goblins.”
“When I said you were without a clue, I can see I was more correct than I thought,” Newminor chided. “Okay, kids, here’s a short lesson to bring you up to speed.”
“After the War of the Unclaimed Territory, there was a huge age gap within the Mandrean Empire. Most of the men of fighting age were dead. That meant the Legions were decimated. Without Legions, there would be no empire. Lord Mandrean the Thirteenth was not going to let that happen. He needed to replenish his forces quickly so as not to lose control of conquered lands and also to seek restitution for the war by capturing new ones.
“As I said earlier, between the Goblin Nations and the Mandrean Empire are the Endless Mountains. The clan of goblins nearest to them is called the Cangons. Among the clans, they are unique. Their population is greater than that of all the other warring Goblin Nations combined. However, their lands are nearly devoid of all natural resources: metal for armor and weapons, trees for building, and even quality farmland to feed them. These are the chains which hold them back from conquest of the Nations.
“They are also the only people who know the strange and winding paths through the mountains. As a result, they looted Mandrean villages near the border, constantly over the years. To keep Legions there for protection, was both costly and futile considering the area that needed to be guarded.
“Lord Mandrean had a plan. He made a deal with the Cangons. He would sell them food, weapons and what have you, in return for infantry goblins.”
“You mean slaves?” Rander interrupted.
“That’s hardly the term,” Newminor told him in disgust. “Actually, it was a good deal all the way around. For the Cangons, they were able to reduce their overpopulation and solve their food crisis at the same time. The reduction of Cangon soldiers, however, still prevented them from conquering the nations. For those bought by the Mandreans, their lifestyle in the Legions was far superior to anything in the Nations.
“As for the Mandreans, they no longer had to worry about raiders coming out of the mountains. The Legions were now fully manned with fierce warriors who would fight to the death, without reservation, and they could continue with the business of the Empire.
June 10, 2015
My Writing Story
A good friend and author is compiling a blog piece about why people write and I gave my 2 cents worth. Then I thought about it last night and realized I had much more to say so I thought I would share it with you. I have had a lot of challenges in my life. To say I’ve had more or less than someone else is not for me to judge. From my perspective, however, there were a lot of hurdles to overcome. It was difficult to cope with these problems especially as a teenager. One gift I had been blessed with was the ability to tell and write stories. The worse the situation became, the more I retreated into my mind and created my own fantasy tales. Soon one of them began to grow and grow. The short story became a long one and that became a novel. It became so long that I had to separate it into 2 novels. Here’s the place where I differ from so many different writers I talk to. I never intended the novel to be published. So why did I white it? As I said, it took my mind off my problems as I worked on it. When I would feel down I would read part of it and think, “This is something I created. No one else could have done this the same way I did.” Then I would feel really good about myself. After probably a dozen rewrites and about 25 years my mother came to me. She was my greatest supporter and used to sneak chapters of my book to her friends to read. I didn’t realize it at the time but her cancer had returned and this would be the last time I would see her alive. My mind starts to wonder what I would have said if I had known. Anyway, she told me my work was great and that I had to promise her I would have it published so others could share in my storytelling. I resisted at first. Getting published is no easy thing. But my mother was one hard woman to say no to. I agreed and she was very happy. We lost her soon after. I knew I had a promise to keep and so I found an agent and set her to work finding me a publisher. The whole process took 3 years but I now have 2 books published with a 3rd on the way. Now I look at the reviews on my books and even the negative ones usually have something good to say. Then I think, “I’ve written something that touched someone else’s life.” That’s pretty cool. So if you ask why I write, the answer is twofold. It started out as something I did totally for selfish reasons of feeling better about myself. Then it evolved into something I do for others as well so I can influence them. I am a member of an elite fraternity in which a single voice can talk to the masses. Does it get cooler than that?
