Helen B. Henderson's Blog, page 46

M is for Mt’wan Comraich

For the letter "M," a different kind of character--an inanimate one, but something that still was important to Lord Branin Llewlyn of the Dragshi Chronicles and Kedar of the novella, MAGIC AND STEEL from the collection First Change: Legends From The Eyrie.


Mt’wan Comraich translates to Protector of Mt'wan. An appropriate name for an enspelled weapon. The village name is an homage to a town I spent many years associated with. (More on my relationship and the town can be found by going over to the dark side.)

The origin of Mt'wan Comraich is told in the novella, MAGIC AND STEEL. Although it looks like a normal blade, it is forged with dragon fire. From the various books of the Dragshi Chronicles, we know one aspect of Mt’wan Comraich is that only one man in a generation can wield it. The sword's magic enhanced its bearer's own native strength and allowed him to fight for hours.



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~till next time, Helen 

L is for Legends

It is not uncommon for a fictional story to be built upon an ancient tale. Legends appear in both the Windmaster Novels and the Dragshi Chronicles.

The dragshi are more than just a man or woman. Each are two beings--one a dragon, the other a human--sharing one body in space and time and able to change forms with the other at will. Their world and adventures are recorded in the Dragshi Chronicles. Within each of books in the Dragshi Chronicles, the ceoltiers, the keepers of the past and the present recount some legend. Usually as a means of making a point or teaching a lesson. Talann's instructors used the story of Lasair and Cailin to help him curb some of his impetuous behaviour.

A different approach was taken with First Change: Legends From The Eyrie . Where a legend was only given a brief mention in the previous volumes, First Change features the full story behind the legends. As with all tales, some contain larger than life deeds. Others are the simple story of a man or woman doing what must be done, regardless of the cost. But a lesson to be learned. When you shift into dragon form, sometimes Fate controls the flight.



As a teaser, the excerpt from Windmaster , of Captain Ellspeth recounting to her passenger, Lord Dal, the story behind the bright stars in the nighttime sky named Iol and Pelra.

Iol and Pelra were captains; both had won their gold bracelets. Their rank was suitable, but his mother had rejected her father’s courtship, so a joining between Iol and Pelra was not allowed. Since no one had ever sailed the southern island route in less than four sevenday, the two families proposed a wager. If Iol and Pelra made the trip in less than two sevenday, the families would allow the marriage. The pair set off in their respective ships with all masts carrying as much canvas as the rigging could handle.

“Iol and Pelra prayed, and in recognition of their devotion the water god favored them with fair skies. Brisk winds pushed them faster than any vessel had ever sailed before. The ships returned in the final hour allowed by the bet. Despite their return within the allotted time, the parents reneged and declared Iol and Pelra had lost the bet and refused to allow the marriage. The ruling council of Iol’s house ordered him to a remote inland lake to captain an old scupper. Pelra was confined to her family complex. Unable to return to their ships and the sea, the pair sneaked to the twin rocks that guarded the harbor entrance. When the families sent soldiers to enforce their orders, the water god brought up a storm to protect the lovers. Then he transformed Iol and Pelra into shipfish. Legend has it they swam together to the end of the world. One powerful leap carried them into the night sky.”

Windmaster Legend tells the story that gave birth to the legend of the star-crossed lovers.


~till next time, Helen 

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K is for Killing a Character

In fiction, especially in the fantasy genre, characters can be ill-treated. There are dungeons and battles. I admit to imprisioning characters. Epic battles between the two mortal enemies often end with the death of one or the other. And, I tend to pen tales where the bad guy gets his comeuppance in the end.

But there are more characters than just the main couple and the forces they oppose. There can be parents and friends, sword carriers and those recorded in the annals of history.

When I started writing, there were a few inviolate rules. Main characters don't get killed, they live to fight another day. You don't kick the dog or beat the child. Now have I ended character stories? Yes. The love story between Lasair and Cailin, whose legend is recounted in the novella, FOREVER BOUND, one of the tales in First Change: Legends From the Eyrie is one such event. The dragshi are more than just a man or woman. Each are two beings–one a dragon, the other a human–sharing one body in space in time and able to change forms with the other at will. One additional fact? Like the true dragons, the dragshi mate for life and cannot live without each other.

Some characters, like Turnaimh and Gremeille in Hatchling's Mate , die off-screen to show its impact through more of the characters. Others are more immediate.

From Windmaster Legacy, an excerpt of the murder of the golden mare, Zethar.

Her head bowed, Ellspeth allowed the tears to run freely down her face. Their salt burned where Third’s blows had cut her skin. “Water gods, give Zethar a smooth sail to the other world,” she whispered. “Let her and the foal graze amongst tall grass.”

Ellspeth remained frozen in place as heartbeat after heartbeat, the mare’s life-force fled. Finally, an empty blackness filled what had once been eyes full of life. Although she had never experienced it, she recognized the signs of berserker rage growing within her.

“Your lives are forfeit!” Ellspeth screamed at those around her. “Zethar wasn’t a horse you could dispose of at will. She was a fàlaire, a magical creature. And she was with foal. You ended two lives.”

Instead of fighting the insane anger, Ellspeth gave in to it and used it to enlarge her powers. All threat to her own child submerged beneath her fury over the loss of Zethar’s foal. In Ellspeth’s mind, her fingers grasped a flaming sword. The tip of the weapon caught the dissipating life-force of the fàlaire. Flicks of the blade twirled the energy together into a swirling column of bright red. Now bound into a solid mass, the flare roared skyward.

Even though Ellspeth recognized the figure who strode through the stunned men, she made no move to evade Bashim. Only when he kicked her away from Zethar did the battle madness lessen.

Killing a character can be done. However, regardless of whether it elicits a, "He deserved it" or a tear, the author takes a chance. More info on the topic can be found at How and When to Kill A Character.


For excerpts and buy links for First Change or Windmaster Legacy, click on the cover in the banner.

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~till next time, Helen 

J is for Journalling

J is for Journalling

Before the days of laptops and smartphones, there was pen and paper--and journalling. Today the script tenderly-written decades or hundreds of years ago can provide insight into both the people and times past. The words captured today, either in a physical or digital manner, will not only capture today for tomorrow, the act of journalling can be very therapeutic. 

Journalling helped ease the soul during long nights of bedside vigils. Pen was put to paper to help regain equilibrium after I stood on the waterfront of my town and watched the Twin Towers fall. It also helped when the book that was awaiting publication had to have a new chapter added to reflect the local losses of the day. It was more of a challenge in the days following Superstorm Sandy as the days were spent helping salvage the town 's museum. So writing was to be done at night, but there was no power for a week s no lights and no computers. Whatever writing whether in a journal or on a novel was done old-fashioned way. Pencil and paper by the light of an antique hurricane lamp fueled by modern lamp oil.


Pixabay Image.Used under CCO Creative Commons.
When writing this post, care had to be taken so it wouldn't become a rant against the selfishness and stupidity of some people. Or how some correspondents go for the sensational rather than a realistic slant. (Saved those notes for the journal itself.)

But a journal is one person's perspective so those writings will go into a private notebook to be destroyed at a later time. The large red labels, "Do Not Read" and "Destroy Upon My Death" should guarantee no one ever sees them.

Another reason to keep it from the public is that the entries may be neither popular nor politically correct.

Hopefully by the time this post goes live, the world will be a more settled place. More on journalling can be found at Capturing Thoughts.

~till next time, Helen 

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I is for Imprisoned

Last year's "I" post in the A-Z challenge was also entitled Imprisoned. However, it focused on the dark fantasy, Imprisoned in Stone. This year the focus is a little different. My characters hate the long dark nights between the solstice and turn's end. First a short excerpt from Imprisoned in Stone. Colywnn is imprisoned in a cell deep in the citadel of the Brethren He can accept no mercy from those who want to control all magic, even though his father is their leader.

Even though the blocking spells absorbed most of the light emitted from the single candle high on the wall, he used the wan glow to examine the room. Stone by stone, he searched for a way out, either through magic or physical force. His questing fingers found only walls worked smooth by those of countless prisoners. Each time he found a hint of magic and tried to summon his own powers, the prison absorbed them, eating away his strength. Although he spotted his own spell interwoven among those who over the years had placed the restraint on the cell, the faint hope it provided quickly vanished. As he watched in hopeless frustration, his spell faded, dispersed by those of the Brethren members.

His back against the wall, Colwynn slid to the floor. He considered one approach after another, then discarded it. Who could he call upon for help? Gareth’s powers were too weak. And the only other wizards he knew were confirmed members of the Brethren. Only one person had the possibility of reaching him—Maerva.

Gathering his magic, he pictured her in his mind. A prayer on his lips, he cast out a desperate call.

Dead silence greeted his effort.

I wasn't any more charitable for Talann of the dragshi or the archmage Dal. When Talann went undercover in the cult of the Parant in Hatchling's Mate, the cult's leader did not believe the son of a dragon shifter would betray his own kind. Even though no dragons sang a welcome at Talann's birth and to all the world he was an outcast, the Parant turned Talann over to the not-so-tender mercies of a mercenary captain.

Dal's captors weren't happy with just him as a prisoner. They wanted the magical equine he rode also. However because of his actions, Tairneach and his fellow herdmates escaped. Before his dark night in the dungeon, an excerpt from Windmaster of Dal's capture by his former troopmate.

Dal went sprawling to hands and knees from a blow to the back of his head. Dust clogged his nostrils. He tried to stand, but a second blow knocked him flat. He arched his back to dislodge the heavy weight of the men piled atop him. Muscles weakened by the poison collapsed. A heel stomped on his fingers and kicked the sword from his grasp. Rough hands grabbed both arms and twisted them back. Pain radiated from the foot on his neck, and the sharp edges of the rocks cutting into his face. The cold touch of iron chains around his wrists killed any hopes of escape.

The weight of those holding him down suddenly lifted. Dal gasped for air. A hand in his hair pulled him up to a kneeling position. Someone behind him slipped a choke collar over his head and pulled it tight. His skin crawled beneath the metal links. More chains were wrapped around his chest, pinning his arms to his sides. He could not move enough to free himself.

The resonance of Bashim’s essence permeated each link.

Dal swore in wordless anger. The chains were enspelled. They bound magic... my magic.

If intrigued, you can find more excerpts from each of the books by clicking on the covers in the banner above.


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~till next time, Helen 

A Map and a Full Tank of Gas #MFRWAuthor

Welcome to Week 15 of the MFRW 52-week challenge. The topic is "Planning a trip itinerary: detailed or fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants."

Image by TheAndrasBarta from Pixabay
Travel with an infant takes a certain amount of planning. Not everyone realizes that depending on the length of time away from home, travel with an elderly person may require even more, if only to ensure subsequent medications on hand. Then there is the wheelchair and the various medical equipment needed for the taking of daily vitals.

I think the best trip starts with a plan, but is flexible enough to accommodate changes. Heavy rain and thunder storms can throw the detailed itinerary of a camping trip bicycling along a canal into a cocked hat.

But just getting into a car and driving isn't practical. At least give me a list of a few things to do when I get there. When traveling to a new area, especially a large city or foreign country, I'd like to have a local resident to guide me around. And while I don't want a tightly scheduled, race through the itinerary, a plan with some built in slack would be nice.


~till next time, Helen

H is for Handfasting

Image by Stan Richards from Pixabay
“Handfasting,” the ancient word for a wedding, was traditionally recognized as a binding contract of marriage between a man and a woman. The voyage of Captain Ellspeth of the House of Cszabo and Lord Dal, archmage of the world, that was captured in Windmaster Legacy began with their handfasting. As a teaser, part of the ceremony follows.

While she was sure she would remember every word and image later, Ellspeth only heard the words of the handfasting. Her skin flamed beneath Dal’s touch when he tied the wooden token of promise around her neck. I’ve missed mine since he took it back to finish the carving, she mused. I had gotten used to the weight of it hanging from the circlet. On the voyage back to Stratven, she and Dal exchanged them on the deck of Sea Falcon to signify her acceptance of his proposal to share his life and magic. His wink as she placed the intricately carved amulet symbolizing her heritage around his neck showed her he remembered the occasion as well.

In a combination of Southern Sea and Mtwan Mountain traditions, Timmel wound the string of flowers around their wrists securing the fragrant ropes with an intricate knot known to sailors as the ‘lover’s eternity.’ His singer’s voice carried throughout the garden.

To read the entire ceremony as well as their matrimonial voyage or the story of Talann and Glynnes click on the buy links below.


Buy Links:  List of ebook sellers
Paperback at Amazon or Amazon.uk





Buy Links:  List of Ebook sellers
Paperback: Amazon / Barnes & Noble

The dragshi (humans with a twinned dragon soul) also have the tradition of a handfasting. One where considerations of time and fate prevented the full story from appearing within the story, was published as a reader's bonus at the end of Hatchling’s Vengeance.







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~till next time, Helen 

G is for Golem #MFRWauthor

Image by darrenquigley32 from PixabayA creature from myth and legend, a golem is a living being created out of an inanimate substance such as clay or metal. The inspiration for the golem came from a terracotta statue.

When the disgraced mage Relliq discovers cave after cave filled with clay soldiers he thought he had the perfect tool to destroy the Archmage Dal and the rest of the Council Isle mages.

But he discovers magic isn't enough to bring the statues to life. Blood is needed. He decides it's not a real problem. For his first battle he doesn't need an army of golem, just a few would break down the gates of the hidden city of Diomharid. And it doesn't matter iif the members of the bandit group he leads don't want to assist in bringing the golem to life. The donor of blood doesn't need to be willing.

Windmaster Golem - Coming October 2020

Before then, read the other books set in the world of windmaster.


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~till next time, Helen 

F is for Fàlaire

F is for Fàlaire

In most fantasy worlds, horses and sailing ships are two of the most common means of transportation, besides flying on dragon back, of course. In the worlds of the Windmaster Novels, the equines are called fàlaire. While they look like nothing more than big horses, they are magical creatures of intelligence,  loyalty and character. One herd lives in the vale near the Isle of mages.

Falaire choose their riders and the relationship usually lasts for lie. The reason is unknown but as a rule, only someone with powers is selected as a rider. Falaire possess an earth magic that provies them with unusual speed and stamina, and the ability to leap large boulders in a single bound. More senior members of the herd have mastered the ability to make themselves invisible, even to the scrying of a mage.

Although falaire won't attack a human, they will defend another member of the herd. And since they consider their riders as adopted members of the herd will defend them as well. 


A prime example of a fàlaire's loyalty is Tairneach. Taer is not only the head stallion of the fàlaire herd in the vale, but he also chose Lord Dal, the archmage, as his rider--and his friend. A former mercenary, Dal is as skilled with a weapon a an incantation. Taer is battle trained and has fought alongside Dal. Taer's skills are so great he is worth a squad of men.




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E is for Eyrie

By definition, an eyrie is a lofty nest of any large bird. Another definition is a house, fortress, or the like, located high on a hill or mountain. So it is appropriate the high mountain citadel of the dragshi is called High Eyrie.

The dragshi are more than just a man or woman, but two beings—one human, the other a dragon. The pair share one body in space and time and are able to change forms with the other at will. But be warned, a dragon form comes with more than just the freedom of the sky.

To show more about Cloud Eyrie, an excerpt from Hatchlings Curse of Anastasia, the newest member of the dragshi and her first attempts at the dangerous mid-air shift from human into dragon form.


Excerpt:

Forcing down his fear, Branin pointed out a white rock jutting from the granite wall mid-way to the valley floor, “Stacia, that is the point of no return. You need to change forms with Jessian and be on the wing before you fall below that rock.”

For several moments, Anastasia stood in silence until Branin wanted to carry her back to their room, ending the madness. It was my idea for her to learn. Time for the master to trust his judgment.

He pulled her close, seeking to impart every bit of his strength to her. Her heart pounded so hard he felt it through his tunic. Forcing a smile, he broke the embrace. “Ready, darling?”

Her soft, “Yes,” sent fire racing through his veins.

Before he could change his mind, Branin stepped back and moved to the far side of the ledge. Whispering his word of change, he left behind his human body to take on Llewlyn’s dragon might and wings. He snaked his head over a shoulder for a final look at Anastasia and stepped off—into nothingness.

The reality of her intended action chilled Anastasia's skin and soul. They will catch me if I fall too far, she told herself. They will stop me from hitting the rocks on the valley floor below.

<Llewlyn is strong,>As she had so often since Jessian awoke and their souls combined, Anastasia felt the love of her dragon sister.

Branin’s thought broke through her ruminations. <Anastasia, fix the word of change in your mind. Let us know when you’re ready.>

Dealan’s voice ended Anastasia’s watch of the black spots that were Liam and Branin. “I remember my first time. What does Jessian say?”

Anastasia sensed her soul twin’s rising excitement. “Jessian is ready.” And after a moment added, “So am I.”

Dealan reached out and took Anastasia’s hands in hers. “On three. One... two... three.”

Hand in hand with Dealan, Anastasia ran to the end of the cliff—and out into space. The feeling of freedom, of not being bound to the earth filled her soul. Jessian echoed with her own pleasure.

<Change, Anastasia,> Branin ordered. <Now!>

The hint of anger, or was it panic, broke the thrall. Shimmering symbols of an ancient language formed in Anastasia’s head. With careful precision, she visualized holding the magic in her hands until the power formed a glowing orb that pulsed with her heartbeat, then added “shia” so the sound rolled off her tongue. A heartbeat later the changing mist surrounded her. On the next, she emerged as a red dragon on the wing. Trumpeting her success, Anastasia stroked for the heights.

Buy links, excerpts, and first chapters of the tales of the dragshi can be found at the Dragshi Chronicles, or by clicking on the individual book covers in the banner.






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~till next time, Helen