L.E. Doggett's Blog, page 4

Why Christmas 2018

                  As hopefully some of you know I post a Christmas greeting message this time of year. I usually discuss why Christmas: what it is about. It doesn’t matter if you celebrate it on the Dec 25 or one of the later dates of Orthodox churches, decide to celebrate for reasons of beliefs it has pagan symbols or you have a different faith-including atheism. What matters is that Jesus was born.       I usually start my message by saying that Christmas-that is the birth of Jesus-means that God is with us. Both all together as a people and as individuals. Some believe and teach that the Creator started everything, put it on automatic and left or sat back to watch. Others that God is just a force-an energy we can touch. But God is personal and one way He showed that was to have Jesus born. He did not abandoned us. He made a plan and He stuck to it. So Yes, Jesus shows us God is with us corporately.     He is with us individually. Once we are forgiven and once we again have right standing with God, He is with us personally. Whatever we go through, whatever happens to us, whatever we do, God is there experiencing it-good or bad-with us. He will not let the fire of outrageous circumstances touch us or the Flood harm us. He Heals in many ways including baggage and issues.      This year I want to add a different point. This may sound like it goes more with Easter or the Resurrection Day we also celebrate but it starts here with Jesus’ birth. First a word of explanation. In what we call the Old Testament or the Hebrew scriptures, in each of Israel’s temples dedicated to God the Creator, there were basically two main rooms. One was pretty much for everyone but one was set aside for God’s presence. Only one man could go in there once a year, after he had symbolically cleansed himself which included his conscience, put on certain clothes God had ordered, and with the blood of a sacrifice. No one else was allowed in the presence of God. A very large and heavy curtain separated the two rooms. Now though after Jesus’ special one time sacrifice and resurrection that curtain or veil was ripped in half, starting at the top. It was very thick and taller than any five men standing on each one’s shoulders. Yet it just ripped-totally in half. That signified that we and God were no longer separated. That we can have our sins totally forgiven and have a right standing and fellowship with God the Creator.      That is one reason we celebrate the Birth of Jesus, even though our misdeeds, our rebellion against God separated us from Him He set put to bring us back to Him. That is why JOY is one of  the words for Christmas. Joy is stronger than happiness and we get it by knowing our sins are forgiven-no matter what, how many times and how we have reacted-He forgives us. Totally! For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten-birth-Son so mankind can Believe and not perish. God showed us His Great love in that He sent His son to die for us while we were still enemies of God. God Gave Us a Very Special gift what is called Grace, God’s Riches At Christ’s Expense, or His unmerited favor. We can have right standing with Him because of what He did. For by grace you are saved and that not of yourself lease anyone boosts.     So, among other reasons, those are three good reasons to celebrate and to show others, the why of Christmas. It is a worthy holy day. He is with Us corporately and individually and He tore that which separated us from Him, and He gives us The grace or ability to be forgiven and therefore we can know Him and Joy unspeakable and love that goes beyond human understanding and Peace of heart that passes all understanding in all circumstances. 
    If you want this forgiveness, and relationship with God the Creator, Tell Him. Speak as you would to anyone and ask Him for it. Go to a bible teaching church, ask questions of those who know Him, read the Bible yourself. Tell someone, at least one, that you now believe. No matter what they say you are the one who knows yourself and God.          You can find more info in these two places online and someone to talk to. There are many others but I don’t have room for them all so I link to just two.  https://billygraham.org   Even though he has passed on his organization still has many fine people who can and desire to help people spiritually.   Here is a link to my church’s web site. There are many fine churches online but this one I know. 
https://www.vccfresno.org

Excerpt Number five and last of my '18 NaNo Novel

Dec 8. Coming closer to the day we celebrate God is with us and how God the Creator showed off His love for us in a very demonstrative way.

This is the last excerpt of my ’18 Nano novel. Next week I will post four or five mini stories. I haven’t done that for a while. The week after will be a Christmas tale or two written by me. After that I will continue with the serial Airship Battle.

This is from chapter ten-there are twelve and starts with in the middle of a battle. They have to get to the house-temple of the wargod off to one side of a city under siege. It is suppose to be deserted but maybe not after all.

This has 3,375 words-a tiny bit long-and has been spell checked and a little bit revised. More complete revising and probably a new chapter when I get it ready for publishing.


They swung at each other, with some of the blows non-threatening for they missed. Jar’s managed to impact the man though. The other joined in. Jar had to increase the speed of his blows as he went back and forth to block the incoming blows.
Both men looked for openings and either would find one soon. His arm absorbed the hard blows but soon even he would get warn down. He concentrated on magic, drew in energy, it rushed in and filled his inner self, and just shoot it out in the form of colored lights, an easy sending.
Both men backed up, not to escape the lights but to make sure he couldn’t come in with a cut or stab. But he had figured they would do that. He spun around to one side so that when their sight cleared he was no longer in front of them. By the time they found him he had hit one of them.
He had pulled his dagger out and now charged at the man who first attacked him. He came in from the side and used a full body blow. The man stumbled sideways and knocked the other man’s sword arm. The first man missed his step again when he realized that his chest had been sliced open right above where his cuirass ended. It wasn’t bad for Jar hadn’t had good leverage but it went across his upper chest and hurt.
Both guards recovered very quickly, faster than Jar had hoped, but the one still had to untangle his arm. Jar went in and the second man with his dagger, It went into the side of his arm instead of the side of the man’s chest but it made a hole almost all the way through that arm, damaging the muscle. Jar pulled it out, spun in time to raise his sword to block a blow for he had seen a shadow move and knew what was coming.
Jar managed to recover traded two swings and somehow ended up almost side by side with the guy. He reached out and because he couldn’t get his blade against the man Jar swung back to hit the just under the top of the cuirass with the pommel of his sword. The man grunted and stood there for a moment like he was stunned. Jar reached back of the man grabbed his far shoulder and spun him into the second man who managed to switch hands and came at Jar. Both men fell, Jar kicked one sword away. A bit of sending and the other sword stuck to the ground.
He moved over to where the strong man was having problems. His opponent now had dented armor, which included a streak down the side of his helm. But he was still awake and active. Jar moved slowly behind him, he picked up a helmet that had fallen and put it on. The soldier tried to get by the strong man’s swings which were slowing. Jar tapped him on the shoulder and said, “Its me.”
The man said, “Not now,” through what sounded like gritted teeth.
“I bet you can’t take him in ten heartbeats.”
“What?”
“I bet you cannot beat him in ten heartbeats.”
“Go away.”
“Sorry can’t do that.”
“Why not, I am busy.”
“Not any more.”
At that he sent and flicked his wrist. The man helmet flew of. He spun around faster than Jar thought he could but Jar still managed to punch him in the chin hard. The soldier stepped backwards and fall. Jar knelt fast and punched him again.
Jar said, “I win the beat, you lost.”
He went through the man’s pockets quickly and found a coin purse. A glance inside showed gold and silver.
“I will take this as my winnings.”
The man cursed and struggled to get up. Jar moved and said, “You lost.”
The strongman brought down his club. The soldier grunt and his eyes closed. Jar didn’t know if he was dead or would wake with a very bad headache and he didn’t care to find out.
He stood. The others had won, Rosa had helped John after she killed her third appoint. He had been afraid someone would die. He waved for them to move on. He could hear clashes of fighting some in the far distance echoing through the city and some near by. Those last might be just guards fighting hoodlums but better not to find out.
Again they stayed to the shadows. Two houses further and they all dropped to the street when a large rock crashed down nearby. Jar heard it roll down a street and wreck another house. They continued on.
They came to the correct house. Jar hadn’t noticed it at the time but this was the largest house in the area. He had seen the other buildings he took to be guest or servant houses but now he wondered if they were actually storehouses for weapons and maybe soldiers who wanted to work for the wargod. They had tricked everyone into thinking there were just a few when it reality it had been thousands more from what Juan had said. How they found the ritual to make a key like they did he didn’t know. It sounded like there had been very few who knew you could make a skeleton key for that much less how to.
The gate was closed and looked to be in better shape than most of the other houses. It had been shined and looked new. Taller than the walls by a man’s height and wide enough for three horses to go through at the same time, without touching their sides. Black and brown, thick wood with a dozen iron bands around it. He new they were thicker than his little finger was long. The pastor door seemed part way open. Nice of them to leave it unlocked for them, but just to be on the save side they would go in another way. Not the same way as before though.
After a search he found a small gate along one side. A tiny thing he must have missed in his searchers, so he corrected himself by looking closer at it. There may be or may not be alarms on it. Jar’s stomach let him know with a loud rumble that sounded like a storm at sea that he had reached a point where he needed food.
No time for that but he needed, they all did, energy and it would embarrassing not to say unhealthy if his stomach sounded like that while trying to sneak into the house. With a movement of his head showing resignation he waved everyone back.
The wife and daughter had searched the bodies back there and had found some food, untouched by blood or inner body parts. That included some squashed bread and cheese, and of all things nuts. They all ate fast, and talked while eating. Jar thought they should go up over the gate. That would be the lease likely to have strong wards and alarm spells. The strong man thought they should just bash through the gate fast, there were broken columns and trees to use to batter it down.
Jar said, “Yes we could, but you are still hurt and are tired, we may need your strength later. The elf might be able to open it with his sendings but that would alert anyone in there too. Best make it as easy and less noisy as possible.”
The daughter said, “They may know you are out here already and it won’t matter what we do or how we get in.”
He nodded, “Yes that is true. I have considered that already but even if they know I am out here, the less time they know that I am inside the better.”
They all nodded with that.
A moment later he thought about adding, and it would be better in there than being caught out here by his troops. He could hear fighting and rocks being thrown about inside the city. They would be here very soon.
They hurried to the small gate and while helping each other up-they were show people after all-he finished his beard and cheese together.
Up on the wall top they soon jumped down the other side. All quiet and fast. He thought about leaving the wife and daughter but not with the troops coming. No where would be safe for them.
Rosa surprised everyone including Jar by jumping the wall. She had hurried down the street than galloped down it fast then sailed over the gate, wall and wards. She landed lightly as Jar expected. They made their way to a side door that servants had used. He thought about climbing up the outside wall like last time but they might be expecting that. Besides more than likely the temple would be in the basement.
The place smelled of bad magic, and old air. He heard nothing but their breathing. The guards and dogs had probably joined the soldiers but he didn’t trust that. There would be someone here to guard this place especially after they realized he would be headed this way with that first paper key.
On the way to the side door though he had a thought. If they went inside and headed for the basement and he tied his pack with the letter in it Rosa’s back, they might not know he was going up the outside. He hated to part with it but if he failed they would still have a chance of closing the gate that allowed the wargod out.
Or better yet they would think he still had it and would follow him and think the troupe were worthless. He nodded and he touched Rosa’s horn. He explained the plan. The unicorn could close the gate or as the case might be, reopen it and let the wargod be pulled back in. She would know what to do. From what she said, unicorns stayed out of opening and closing gates but they could since they worked magic.
She agreed for the warlord meant to either control unicorns or kill them. Any of the rest of the team could place the letter on the correct lock. He figured it could be any type of box, or plate or flat surface which might hold the key by magic, long enough to unlock and wake the wargod. Of course that had already been done but the altar, or whatever one called it, should still be handy.
He would help them open the front door but then he would just jump up and climb up the front of the building. They could react like they didn’t know what he was up to. They could go inside and just sit a spell, if nothing happened or was there to stop them, but after a few minutes take off for the basement.
Not much of a plan but it was the least complicated which might help the other side fall for it.
Jar looked around the door and he could smell old blood mostly human but also something else he wasn’t sure about. Maybe they had used blood deaths to enhance the wards on the door, or maybe it was the blood of one of the adherents of the god that he had pretended to be at the beginning of this. The two of them may not have taken no for an answer and so were shut up. Maybe a traitor to them they had made an example of. It didn’t matter that much, even though some.
The wards on the door were not as powerful or as hard a he figured they would be. After a long moment he found one ward and joined it. He found the basic spell under all of the extras, reshaped and twisted his sending energy until it fit even with that basic ingredient. He held out his hand palm out and concentrated. His sending eased itself in and hitched onto the basic one that Jar had found.
The unicorn let him use some of her magic so that he had what he needed. The door’s wards let him move closer and he used a tiny branch-harden by a sending fire. In no time he had the main lock undone. He pulled out as easy as if he had used the right key. Next he eased into the ward that notified someone that the door had opened. This time he stayed in long enough to tie two sections of that ward together so that when the door opened it would seem to be fine to the ward because the two parts would still be touching.
His legs started to complain and he knew that last bit had taken too long. Sweat rolled down his back and even though no one voiced any thoughts he suspect all of them wanted him to get a move on. With the possible except of the daughter.
Jar pulled his essence back toward his body. It stopped at one point. He blinked and pulled. Nothing: he didn’t move back to his body. Sweat formed on his forehead and threatened to get in his eyes while he checked out what held him.
There two sharp points made of magical energy. Not everyone would be able to see them. He concentrated more. Then he sent out two bits of energy. One hook pulled back but the other one stayed. He shook his head, He just wanted to go in a corner and stare at a wall. Memories came up from his childhood, his first failures at sending and more. He missed his mother even though he had barely met her. He remembered discovering his ears were like hers. But she went away anyway.
Even when he blocked those thoughts he wanted to give up and cry. He tried to back off then to slide sideways through it but this wasn’t a physical hook grabbing his clothes or even skin. It had a hold of his psychic. It had to be made to let go.
He moved closer and studied it. It should let go.
Oh, there a tiny part had gone in deeper. That could be why his thoughts and emotions had taken the turn they had. He traced the near invisible, even to him, line and saw where it ended. Once there however he found it easy to unhook it. Maybe because he knew these thoughts mind pictures that made his emotions so heavy. He had fought with them for a lot of his life even when things went well.
The hook fought him but he managed to send it back to the larger hook and to unhook it. Once free he spent to more time there, but was back where he belonged in less time than took to think it. His muscles relaxed, by that he knew they all had tensed, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Even though somewhat easy that was the hardest those heavy emotions had hit in years.
He opened the door just wide enough to allow everyone in. He didn’t want to take any chances. Once each member of the troupe was in he closed it and made sure it would stay closed.
John said, “Hey, you’re not in here.”
“Sorry,” at that he flexed his knees and leapt up to grab hold on the shelf like ornamentation above the door. The only way he could make it was because he had elven like strength.
He pulled his body up all the way, stood on that shelf that was only half of one of his feet wide. He found a copy of that head again-he assumed it was the original head the wargod had. He may still have it but Jar hadn’t seen the base of that dark cloud to be able to tell.
The stone was rough, and warmed by the sun. The troupe had spoken longer but now had given up since they could not shout.
Up higher and he smelled fresh bird poop. With no one living there birds could perch here, or they had a, probably, large bird guard. He better keep an eye out for one.
The third story had more dust and accumulated bird droppings and bat guano. Evidently the staff didn’t get this far with their cleaning. He really should tell the mansion’s owners about their sloven ways. Except they may know about it and not care. This was further up than most people would be able to see or smell after all.
What they left behind, even the dried very old crap, made the stones more slippery then they would normally be. Not to mention he wanted to say yecch every time he reached for the next hand hold. He had his hands in worse messes a time or two, but not recently.
The rough stones up here were hard on his hands but at least it helped to negate the slippery surfaces. His feet were another matter, however. They tended to slip on any surface. Maybe he should take off his boots and socks.
He shook his head, for when he licked his upper lip, he got sweat on his tongue. He continued anyway: there was no other option. He couldn’t let the average citizen down, not even the rich deserved the wargod-well, most of them didn’t.
When he reached the fifth floor, the one he wanted, he reached for the next ledge, grabbed it and tested it to make sure it would not come apart when he pulled on it. The builders could have used more stronger stones instead of porous ones. Too many of course and the house would fall down not too long ago. Out here though no one know what had been used. Someone hired to fix and maintain things here would probably notice if they came up here. The staff didn’t but a repair man might. But they may not care what someone on the economic level thought of their house. Might not care how the staff thought of them either, as long as they did their jobs.
His thoughts continued, and distracted him from exactly how dangerous this was. One slip and he would fall four stories. He might hit the hard marble walkway or the little softer grass on dirt or a taller bush that might break his fall in a good way depending on how strong their branches were. He had a better chance here in the front though than he had when he climbed the side of the house.
He reached for the next level’s decoration pocket and pulled up. Just as his head cleared the level a huge black shape came at him and a heavy guano stink filled his sinuses. Some auto defense?
Jar reared back and one arm jerked.
His fingers on that hand slipped. He reached forward with the other even as the shape came at him. That hand slipped on fresh dung as he realized the shape belonged to a bat, twice as large as his head. It had fangs and probably sharp, pointed teeth.
Even while the fingers of both hands slipped, he thought this could be the reason the staff were lazy out here. He reached out with each hand but both set of fingers slipped again. His head went back in the beginning of a fall.
Wind went by his head, the weight of his body pulled his hands from even the slippery hold they had caught.
He felt his fingers leave the stone, now air lay beneath them. His body dropped at the same time the bat flew over him. Its out wings touched his face and the wind of its passage seem to send him down even faster.
Jar tasted bile but couldn’t spit it out,
Out of instinct, for his mind had gone blank, he reached out again; any port of safety would do. His hands grabbed stone, his body jerked. Almost hard to enough to pull him loose again, but he had fallen only about a foot.
He still heard a crack of stone.


end excerpt

Excerpt number four of my '18 NaNo Novel

Winter is here for many and Christmas is coming-as I said last time, a sign that God loves us but also a sign that He is with us. God the Creator Loves you.

This is the fourth and second to last excerpt of my Nano Novel. This one takes place very soon after last week’s. I choose it because there are two short term characters I want to see if anyone can figure out. I doubt anyone will know the first one even though she shows up twice. The second one is more obvious. Because of that I will probably delete at least her when I revise the novel. Usually when I do this no one says anything so I don’t know if anyone had figured out the character(s) I put in. But I still think it is fun.
If you missed the previous excerpts you can scroll down for they are all under this one. 

This excerpt is 3827 words long.





The lock clicked and Jar glanced around just in case some hidden person, or the image, had heard it. Sweat started to drip again. He opened his senses to magic. The room had an abundant supply of it, including a large source in the drawer. But he could tell that none had become active or alert.
Noises were probably normal in this office so it would be hard to set an alarm for certain sounds when everything was considered normal to the wards.
His mouth became dry, as it sometimes did. Jar hadn’t brought anything to drink but that was probably for the good. Still cool water or even wine would be useful right now.
The drawer came open and he found the paper. It lay under two other magicked papers. Hmm, he wondered what they were about, but he came for one only. He ran his hand around it and felt nothing. Even laying his hand on top only produced the effects of the paper itself. Nothing under it either.
He reached for the paper but stopped himself. Something he had missed. Jar closed his eyes and energized his hand even more. Next he reached for the paper again with an open hand. When the magic of the paper reached for his senses he stopped and sent in his mind. He checked, searched around in overlaying circles to see if anything had been mixed in with the paper’s magic. That would be something Juan would do.
Nothing outside of what should be there. Maybe he didn’t have time to place an extra protection on it or decided that since it would be moved soon and the paper messed with that it would be better not to. Either way or another one it was good for Jar.
Jar placed the paper in his backpack again, as secure as last time. In a moment he reversed his steps and waited by the door. He listened but heard nothing. No snares wrapped themselves around him. Neither did any beacons. So far so good.
He opened the door and almost stepped back. A man in a black uniform: tunic and wide pants, walked up to him. Jar almost stepped back or bolted past the man-who turned out to be a woman. She walked past him almost without seeing him. She wore two swords and blue feathered arrows. The woman had short brown hair almost ready for a wide hat or a helm of some type and she looked young for this work, but sometimes that could be deceiving but then again he was young.
He swallowed his first impulse to run and instead he turned back to the room and said, “Good idea, I will see about it tomorrow.”
If she glanced in through the open door she would see the image standing there. She looked preoccupied so would probably not notice anything strange about the image-probably. As far as he could tell she didn’t even glance at him but more than likely his presence and what he said had registered on her mind. It might come to the forefront of her mind later.
The longer that took the better.
He closed the door and walked down the hallway toward the entrance as if he belonged there. He passed another person: a cleaning lady by her looks, even though she looked wiser and more alert to the world than most. Plus she carried three books in a knapsack. He could make out the outlines. They had a library down here that only certain people had excess to. It had books of power and some with strange tales and others that seemed almost alive. He knew that they found some of those books in caves, among ruins and in a couple of cases strange men and women gave them to the Organization. Those were suppose to be from other dimensions. He shrugged on that idea.
She went down a side corridor kinda of fast. He turned to look after her-was she an agent who realized something was wrong? He thought he heard a woman’s voice mumble something. A burst of a strange magic washed over him for a moment. He hurried to the corner and looked down. He sensed magic vanishing around the door jam two doors down.The room it led to contained a bunch of books anyone could read, even though not as many as that other library was said to have. Three men hurried up the hallway he still stood in and turned the corner. They ran past the door.
He turned back thinking he better hurry, but that was down right strange. And that magic he had never felt anything like it. And probably won’t again, he thought.
At the right door he went in and pressed the hand print on the wall. It would activate the steam mechanism that would push the room up to street level. Something the great artist da. Vinci was reported to have designed.
Once the door opened again he went out. Since it was night out, he walked to the back door-there were just enough candles and lanterns still glowing to see where to step, and unlocked the door to the outside. It would let him out in an alley where he could walk out of, go down a dark street and then to a busier street. Carriages and people walking might still be about on that street, but he wouldn’t attract any undo attention if someone did see him. Any guards for the Organization would know him and not think it strange that he would be out this late.
He went the long way about so he could leave the protected area on the same street that he came in on. If he acted like he came out of one of the block houses on that street anyone sent by those chasing him would not think it strange.
Once near the street he slipped into some shadows and eased his way around the corner. The ground was soft under his feet so it must have rained. He could smell wet bushes and air. Two carriages rolled by on the next street and he heard a couple of men talking on the street he was on. They most probably had not noticed him for they sounded no alarm or asked questions of him.
He licked his upper lip and got sweat on it. This time of night the air of the shadows felt the same as the air in the open. Once around the corner he stayed in the shadows of the houses and bushes as he made his way to the right house. The house didn’t matter but he wanted one in the middle of the street. Under cover of all the anti-magic and spells being cast here. He moved on. Twice he had to leave the thicker darkness because of obstacles like a field full of debris from a burnt building. Somehow it had been kept from burning the houses on either side.
Jar climbed over some of the remains of the structure but he went slow and kept as close to the deeper shadows as possible. Once over them and back to where he was master he wiped his lower face, then spat out the ash he had gotten in his mouth. He shook his head when he wiped his hands on the grass. Now he could smell the burnt wood. This fire must have been within a couple of months ago.
When he made it the house he wanted, he waited. Jar listened for carriages, footsteps and any other noises people would make. Nothing for a count to sixty, so he left the darkness and dashed to the street. People either walked on the hard surface of the street or along the edges where it would be a tad safer. He choose the edge of the side he had been on. It was a bit darker there and less chance any spy would noticed he wasn’t on the street a moment ago.
Jar wasn’t sure all of this was necessary but this time he had to do as much as possible to keep them in the dark-so to speak.
He walked out of the covering and along a busier street. If they still watched for the key, he would have seemed to be coming from a safe house. Or an apartment the magic and sword school ran.
He kept an eye out for anyone following him, like a shadow would, but that wasn’t easy while trying to look like someone in a hurry to go home. The air grew chilly and he sensed magic as well as something else in the air. He looked to the sky. Was the war god closer than he thought, like outside the city? No, the population would be running the other way. Could he or it, be watching him like some giant eye in the sky? Probably possible. He didn’t know the capabilities of this wargod. Maybe he should find out. Maybe he should have found out before he left. Too late for that. The more time he would have taken for that increased chance of it being caught or stopped for any other reason though.
Jar continued on. He found a boy he knew would take a message to any citizen. He wrote a note out to John explaining that the best chance they had to escape, at least for a couple of years, from the wargod was to go over the hight mountain. There were passes so they could get over and the third city along a river was huge and had many warriors plus wizards of great power they might stop the wargod or distract him long enough so that someone might be able to find a weapon against him. Jar said he was headed back to where this all started with what would stop him now. If he succeeded then they could come back if not they would be safe at least for some time. If not they might be able to get on a ship overseas. And be save a few more years. Of course they could spend time in a church to pray for his success. And to give the boy a copper and silver coin.
After the boy took off with the letter-Jar had given him a copper and silver coin and said he would get the same when he delivered the letter-Jar turned around and headed toward a side gate. He might be able to buy or if need be steal a horse from a rich man.
When he arrived at the gate he looked around. This gate was small, only two horses could get through at the same time if they touched each other, for few people used it. It had three iron bound doors, two outside and a thicker one closed from the inside. Plus hot oil pots up top of it and an inside moat with sharp stakes at the bottom. Now covered by thick boards which could be used for arrow shields. It smelled of rotten food and unwashed bodies. On the way he had bought two packs full of food and saddlebags with hay and oats in them. Then he bought a horse. It wasn’t as fast as he wanted but it looked healthy and like it could run for miles.
Once outside he turned one direction, east where he rode until that evening. He found an area where new wizards liked to practice their magic. The place was full of wards, traps and spent spells. Even illusions and such. It could be dangerous of any wizards were there now but he risked that. He manage to find grass for the horse and water for both. He ate bread and cheese then bedded down off to one side.
The next morning he changed directions and followed a small caravan that had four wizards in it. They might cover him enough to keep those priests from being able to catch sight of him. The wargod himself was unknown.
They traveled for three days then turned to go around that dry area. Jar shook his head: they shouldn’t be so concerned about their comfort.
He continued on through the edges of the small desert. There were some small watering holes along this edge, just enough for a horse and rider. Still hot with dry air but this way would be much faster. The way he jumped in and out of magic fields might confuse the priests and they would not know where he was for a while, or they would know immediately. Either chance however, still he had to go this way.
His horse didn’t seem to mind a diet of grass with a few oats mixed in at times. He ate what he had. At one stop though he found that his horse was having problems. Too hot for the faster traveling maybe or something wrong with it the owner had failed to tell him about? He didn’t know so sold the horse for half of what it should have been good for. On the way out of town he managed to cut off a small coin purse from a man dressed in rich clothes. Only a few coppers, more sliver and three small gold coins. He probably had more than one purse. This one might be for thieves or he was a con man who was trying to sell a bridge. The coins were real.
On the outskirts of that town he managed to join a caravan as a guard. He wouldn’t get paid as much as the others but he got to eat with them and had a place for sleeping. And he would not have to stay long here. The town stunk. It smelled like the public privies just let it drop on the ground under them. It didn’t take long for this trip but he spent a day in the shadow of the local city hall, until he was chased off by a magistrate. Jar managed to get close to the man and steal his purse in the process though. Jar disliked the man’s attitude and he might be able to get a replacement from the civil authorities since he lost the purse while on city business.
This purse contained just a little more than the one he got from the rich man. Still the coins went well with what he had still hidden in his clothes. The trip turned out to be short and boring. Except for toward the end, they were attacked by a new band of robbers. These looked like survivors and deserters from various militaries. All of the uniforms were dirty and had blood stains on them and the men stunk. Jar had been asleep before his night duties when the alarm horn sounded. He jerked awake grabbed his sword and knife, headed out of the wagon-he and the others slept in. Three of the attackers were down with crossbow bolts in them. Another one came his way. Jar though shook his head at the guy just before he changed directions and headed for the man who looked like the leader. The man, dressed in a newer uniform with no rips but had the image of a man’s head on his breast. Jar thought it was the same head that had adorned the house he had snuck into.
The attacker looked cleaner too. Jar titled his head, so they sent some out further to cause trouble so the populace and probably military could be worn down even before the wargod’s main force reached them.
The man saw Jar headed his way and turned toward Jar. He brought his weapon up in a ready position. He didn’t attack though, he just defended himself while he let Jar do the attack. Jar saw that and pulled back but only a bit.
Jar and the other went back and forth: swords clashed, both spun, slid and bounced backwards when needed. After many swings they rested a moment. The other had hit Jar’s chain mail over leather. But like him the light armor half elven: stronger than most human armor but not nearly as tough as full elf armor.
The attacker over reached but instead of going in, Jar pulled back. No, he would fall for something like that.
Metal clashed in Jar’s ear, he heard groans from a distance away. It warmed for Jar, sweat formed but he could see the attacker sweated also.
Jar spun away from one incoming swing but swung all the way around and stepped in further. He swung and hit the man’s arm. The blow hadn’t the strength behind it as Jar wanted but still enough to jar the man badly.
Somehow the man managed to bring his sword around to block a second blow, which inspired Jar to slide back. They each had armor that had new dents but that still blocked and deadened blows.
Jar licked his lips and came back with something like sweat. He seemed to be in worse shape than the attacker though.
They traded more blows. Jar panted but he could see that so did the other. He swung and swung and swung but couldn’t get his blade through the man’s defenses. The opposite was true also which was good for Jar.
After three harder than usual blows Jar pulled back a little but the attacker lounged. His blade’s edge impacted Jar’s chain mail on his right breast. The impact knocked Jar backwards five steps. It also cracked three links and busted one.
Jar groaned but then snarled and went in hard and fast he drove the attacker backwards, but a cunning blow knocked Jar’s blade from his hand: that blow had bruised his chest muscle which weakened his arm. More sweat dripped down Jar’s back, this time he didn’t care that when he used his tongue to lick his upper lip he got sweat.
He jumped back, without a glance to where his sword went. The man smiled and went in for blurry of blows which would end up with the blade in Jar’s throat or stomach or side. However Jar dived in under the attacker’s arms, he reached out with both hands as if he wanted to throttle the attacker. The man leaned back, Jar stepped in, but as his left hand touched the man’s throat he lowered his right and drew his knife in one move. Before the man even noticed that action Jar stabbed him in the side of his chest. Jar had noticed a weak spot there and had hit it twice. This time the point of the knife cut through the armor and into the man.
Blood poured out, however a heartbeat later Jar flew backwards. He landed on his tail, but raised up immediately. His knife had cut the attacker but the man had backhanded Jar before it could cut in too deeply. It still bled: Jar smelled the blood and the man’s sweat. He spat when he realized some of the man’s blood most have sprayed on and in his mouth.
The man dropped his sword, probably had become too heavy with that wound, but he drew a knife much like Jar’s with his left. They circled each other and panted. Jar considered faking a fall so he could hamstring the man. But he wore a type of greave.
Jar knew that the man had to finish this now, before he bled enough to weaken him too much. He might still die but at least he would finish off Jar first. Which come to think of it might be his job today.
The attacker charged and Jar went under him and up fast. The back of his head hit the man’s stomach hard enough to lift him up. Jar straightened and punch the man very hard in the face. He stumbled back with blood flowing from his nose. He had to shake his head. Before he could recover though Jar lounged, rolled his body to one side so that his arm touched the man’s side and then off of the man.
He spun around after Jar but then stopped. By the look in his eyes he had realized something worse was wrong. Jar had managed to bring up his knife and slice it over the man’s throat. Not as deep as such would usually go but still enough. The man’s legs buckled, he tried to say something, probably a curse for him Jar thought, and he collapsed. Jar turned back to the fight.
Another man in the same type of armor came toward Jar. Jar shook his head. He hurt, was tired and now this. But before the new attacker came close he jerked, looked down at the long arrow that had just blossomed from his chest. The expression on his face said he couldn’t believe it, then his face went blank and he fell backwards.
Jar’s muscles relaxed in relief. He spun around though. That arrow must have been shot by a strong arm to penetrate that armor like that. He saw a figure in black run down the line. When he looked back he saw that the arrow had blue feathers.
He titled his head when he looked after the archer. He or she may have brown hair. Jar moved on after another attacker but hoping none were near him. The battle ended soon after. The survivors took off. Three looked injured. After he made sure all of them had left he thought that they would not last long. Not only were their two leaders dead but their numbers had just shrunk significantly. He went back to where he battled the one leader. He went through the man’s pockets, picked up a well made small dagger and five gold coins with four large silver ones. He must have been paid well.
After a moment he recalled the man hit by the arrow. He went to him but the arrow was gone and it looked like his pockets had been gone through already. He shrugged and went back to the wagon. He needed a little something for his pain and to rest.
Later that night though he still had to go make his rounds. On his way out to the further wagons he saw a figure in a black outfit. He chased her down. The young woman turned on him and Jar noticed that she wore a small brooch on her collar. It seemed to show a rose.
Jar said, “I apologize for startling you. I just wanted to say thanks and to get your name if I could?”
The woman stared at him and said, “You’re welcome, but I won’t be here long enough to give you my name. I am just looking for my father.”
Then she turned and walked off.



end excerpt

Excerpt three from my '18 NaNoWriMo novel

Happy Beginning of the Christmas season-Proof that God does love you and wants to know you.

This is the third excerpt of my current Nano Novel, from chapter five and is 2781 words long.
He has the letter he was suppose to get and is now back at headquarters of the secret organization he works for. You might recognize the entrance, if you read old comics and maybe watched a newer TV show. Jar learns some disturbing News and figures it is his fault.

I forgot to mention. I named a couple of cities in this one but not all. I may just change all of the names of places. The description of the very long valley most of the cities here are in makes this another world so I will have to change what names I do have.

A word though before we get into the story.
Books do make good presents and gifts. And in most cases and esprecially Indie writers like me, you would be gifting two people at once, even if you don’t know one of them.



Excerpt


Later he turned left and continued on a street that looked like had few people walking on. He went by two magic schools, one had only one student, or it seemed by the active spells he felt. The other had maybe three and neither of them were that powerful. Children of rich parents who wanted something else for their spoiled kids? Someone trying to find a defense against a person or persons chasing them? The second school also was known for sword and dagger training. That would be some place he would want to go.
A block later he went down a side street and stopped before a few houses, as if he wanted to find a certain safe house or someone who could help him. He knew when he entered the field around the headquarters. Even his eyesight seemed to be effected by this field. But he had been here before so knew the feeling and where to go. He found the right building and the right storefront. There were store on either side of this one, who were all authentic businesses. This one catered to the hair of the very rich and royalty. They had been in business for over a hundred years about the same time the clandestine organization started. Back then it wasn’t as secret but it never was well known. On purpose.
He entered and found a maitre-d who knew who he was. The place smelled of cucumbers, a mixture they made to rejuvenate skin and hair. The man took him back to small room in the back. He let him in and said that his attendant would be along. Jar, nodded once said thank you in a posh tone and sat down in a chair. Once the man closed the door Jar spoke one word. A word that translated as care.
The chair started down through a cunningly canceled hole under the chair. It stopped when it reached a lower level. He got up and walked through a door. A hallway presented itself. Very classy with blacks, bare metal and browns. He walked down the hallway and found an office set to one side. He knocked on the closed door and soon was let in. He found a plush room with a desk and three padded chairs. A little bit comfortable but not too much. That was so guests would not feel like staying for long.
The man seated behind the desk wore an all brown suit made for someone to serve the king. Its vest buttoned all the way up and it had a part that could flip over to hide the buttons. The trousers looked neat and tidy and out of silk yet tough enough for a hoodlum’s life. This one had a Spanish flare to it. The one he had on last time Jar met with him looked like one made by a German clothes maker.
He said, “You have the letter we sent you to get?”
Jar nodded once and said, “Yes, I do. It’s been a hard trip back here with it, they found me out somehow, but…”
He reached behind him and took off the pack. He unzipped it and took out five pieces of paper. By feel alone he found the right one and handed it to the man, who took it and carefully examined it.
When finished he said, “Yes, I can see and sense it is what we wanted. But it came too late. They were able to raise their wargod out of his forced sleep.”
 “What? What wargod?”
“The group you were told to steal from is a batch of worshippers of Kurell, a very old god of war, at the time one of the smaller ones. Ten millenniums ago he was forced into a confinement to sleep. The only way to wake him was to release him from that confinement. No one knew where he was imprisoned nor where the key to open it was. The last of his worshippers went into hiding before they were killed. Some were searched out and killed but others hide too well. Over the centuries they became adept at hiding who they worship. In the last twenty-five years they have partially come out. They do not make a big deal about it and some do not mention he is a wargod. Hardly anyone looks twice at them.”
“But the Organization did?”
He nodded, “Yes, those at the top were surprise to learn which god their worship. So we sent a couple of agents to infiltrate them. One almost was killed in the process and the other made it in. Through his services and other means we learned, and it was conformed, that they had found some ancient knowledge that would allow them to do a ritual that could make a key that would work every time.”
Jar thought, so a skeleton key to magical locks.
The man continued, “They wrote a letter to a high priest to explain that. To hide the key and make it easier to transport they turned that letter into the key. Few people would think of something that important made out of paper. We caught a bit of a conversation and our person inside was able to look the site of the ritual over afterwards. Some bad things were done there but he also found drafts to the letter, not yet disposed of. We put two and two together to get the answer of where the key was.”
“And you sent me, without telling me what I was really getting.”
“We didn’t want them to realize that we knew.”
“Looks like they found out.”
He nodded once.
He shook his head, “They have already conquered a fifty league track of the Multi kingdoms. And they will get the next fifty easy enough. An army is being formed out of six of the kingdoms. They are headed straight down the main track through the valley. They probably will mop up the smaller kingdoms and city-states on the sides after they hit the major ones. It is possible that the huge army might stop the wargod. They will have some powerful wizards but so far he had beaten everyone that has tried to stop him. That includes ten who joined together. He is too powerful, angry and cruel to lose. And he is gathering strength with his victories. His forces are growing too. Either his worshippers fooled us and had many more followers than we thought, which included training schools, or he has somehow persuaded people to join him. Maybe because he is winning, maybe to keep themselves and loved ones from being tortured,” he shrugged/
Jar frowned, none of his precautions had done any good. Maybe for a day or two, what he had done mislead them but they found him in less than a week. They must have a way to trace that letter. He hadn’t kept anything else he had stolen that night. Now though they didn’t need him, for they must have made another key.
H had put innocent people at risk for nothing. In the cities and towns he had stayed at, and in the caravans-a couple had been killed there and wounded. Most of all he had placed the troupe in real danger. That was not good.
He and his boss talked some more than he was dismissed. The man took the letter and placed it in a drawer until they could decide what to do.
Jar went to a room he usually used after a mission. Just a small one with a comfortable cot and small desk for writing. It looked like a monk’s home at one time. Maybe this had been a monastery when it was made. The age smell showed it was ages old and sometimes he almost thought he could smell incense in the main room. That would have been the chapel. That would explain some of the feelings he got while here and some of the core protections this place had.
He stripped off his dirty clothes, he could get them cleaned here, and laid down. The plain wool blanket would be enough down here.
No sleep came his way though. Maybe he should get dressed and head for the kitchen for some caffe. By the time he got there, drank the caffe and got back he might be ready for sleep. He had done that before after a hard mission. 
 He shook his head. That would not work this time. His guilt kept him from falling asleep. He had placed people in danger, even new friends, for no good reason. If it had all worked as he planned he might be able to fight or ignore his guilt. Not now though.
What could he do to calm his guilt? Ask the Organization to send them more money? No.
Warn them to head through one of the passes that lead over the next set of even higher mountains? They might be safe for quite a few years there.The man had sounded like he didn’t think that army being formed would win. He probably hadn’t realized his feelings came through his tone. But if he thought the wargod would win there was a very good probability that he would.
For a second he thought of their daughter growing up and doing something to save the day-years late. Maybe she could and this was a warning to get the letter to her. Or a hint that even if he failed someone would take his place eventually.
Failed at what though?
As soon as he asked the question he knew. He knew how to get into the house even though the temple would be in a basement and he knew where the letter or key now lay. His office would be protected but he knew many tricks on how to bypass those protections. And the office knew him already.
Jar frowned. Even if she was able to win the day at sometime in the future he needed to do it now. During those years many people would die and many more be tortured. Heroes would come up and heroes would die. Some like him might become users of the night and shadows who would take people to safety and rob the wargod’s people to give to those in need and such but no. Over all it would be better to stop before it went much further.
That meant he had to steal from his boss, and the Organization. They had made something of him, even with his background. Yes they were using him, but for good things and they rewarded him not only with money and such but with a peace of mind and knowledge that he was doing something good.
He fell asleep sometime after he made that choice. Early in the morning though his bladder woke him up. There was a watercloset down the hall. A very old one that went along with the building but it had been updated. Somehow they had made a water trough under it and the other water closets in this underground complex, so that the water kept moving, shoving out everything that went down the holes in the broad seat.

Once back in his room he decided that the time had come. Late, but not too early in the day yet. There would be people still now here, agents finished their missions, or got into town, at odd times. But they would be few and since he belonged here no one would think it strange that he was up now.
He gathered what items he had taken out of his backpack and headed out. He knew the man usually slept here. He had a nice set of rooms in a side area. As far as Jar could tell there were as many as a dozen such apartments on that side. Possibly a dozen on the other side.
Jar closed his door as silently as possible and walked down the hallway. A few voices came from both directions but none should concern him.
Not much in the way of shadows here, probably planned that way, he thought.
After the odors in the water closet he realized the hallway smelled clear-that is not clean but not much of anything. Again most probably on purpose, he surmised.
He turned the right corridor and walked with purpose to where the office was. There were a lot of offices here, some with lights under the doorway and a couple with doors open, for this was the main entrance. Guests sometimes came this far. Jar nodded to or waved a hello to three people who worked here. One was an elf which always surprised him, for generally they stayed out of the affairs of humans. But what the Organization did might concern them too. And some elves didn’t go along with what is usual behavior for elves.
When he arrived at the correct door no one was about. Jar went down the hallway in both directions but found no one close. He listened but the only voices sounded way down the hallway. He went back to the door, pulled out a certain lock pick he had already pocketed, Sweat slide down his back even the hallway was cool. He sniffed the door and the air but outside of scents that lingered he could detect no cigar, sweat or performa odors that showed anyone waited in the room. No light shone under the door.
A bad taste formed in his mouth, for he was about to break into Juan’s office. True the only thing he wanted was the letter, but still. They may think they could figure out something to use against the wargod, maybe they could and possibly that is what John’s daughter would use if his idea was true, but he knew how to use it now. Before a lot of destruction and deaths. Right now people were being tortured into joining them.
No one had thought of the possibility that they could make a second key, but still if he had done better, grabbed a fast horse or gone to Spain where a secondary headquarters was, the key could have been back here before they made that second one and awoken and set free this awful wargod.
He listened for anyone coming and when he heard nothing, he bent over to look at the lock. The keyhole had been placed in the middle of the black frame set under the knob. Right in the center of that piece of thin metal. He touched it with just the palm of his hand, a very light touch. He could sense the wards and what was on the lock. Not all that powerful yet they still might somehow make the man know someone was messing with the lock. Not if he bypassed them, though.
He concentrated on making the pick feel like a key to the wards. He insetted it while he watched the wards. The pick was much smaller than a key would be but it also had a weight on the end along with a bent point. It weighted the same as a big, black metal key. He sent in his own magic and got a picture of the tumblers. He eased that image onto the pick. It went in okay. He knew the type of lock that had been used for this door and knew where to place the end of the pick. It hit an obstacle he took to be a tumbler. More sweat down his back and his sides from his armpits. Now he caught a scent of ozone, which wasn’t unusual and some oil used to protect the lock from grime and dust.
It clicked, good one down. He moved his pick over and repeated the procedure. He was probably taking too long and a ward would send an alarm but he had to do it.
Again he felt the tumbler move. He twisted his waist as if he turned a real key. The final click sounded. He looked around but even though that was louder than usual no one was near enough to hear it.
The door should be unlocked now. He kept the key in and pushed open the door. Once it had opened enough for him to walk in, he took the key out. And stepped in.
He halted at once.
There next to the desk, the man stood watching Jar.
After a long moment Jar gasped. Juan had been there the whole time even though he hadn’t sensed Juan. Now Jar had been caught breaking into the man’s office.


end excerpt

Excerpt two of my '18 NaNo Novel Paper Key

It is the beginning of chapter three. I am skipping chapters because I am only going to be doing four, possibly five, excerpts. I think I am doing well. The tale is flowing and I know where my hero is going even not all of the specifics. This is my sixth year-maybe seventh all together-and even though I may not do it next year this is fun. And it gets a novel done much faster than usual, even though I will have to revise and lengthen the novel afterwards.
Oh, I didn't use a lot of names here-called one guy the strongman-because even though I named them in the first chapter I forgot what name I used in some cases. One of the revising things I need to do.


Begin excerpt
The troupe arrived at the next town with injuries. The caravan they had chosen had been attacked twice. Once at night after everyone had settled in for bed and sleep. The elf had heard something so the attack had not been the surprise the gang of raiders thought it would be.
Jar had been the first to be up. He grabbed the crossbow and three bolts then headed out in the direction the attack seemed to come from. He wiped the sleep out of his eyes, while the chilly night woke him more. Clouds covered the stars and moon, even though gaps allowed the moon to shine down every so often.
He shook his head at the brazenness of the robbers. This area was kept cleared of all raiders by two neighboring cities who worked together, so it was usually avoided by gangs. Of course something could have happened to one or both of those cities.
Jar saw five riders come his way. Something funny there but he shot one anyway. When the rider fell from his horse, the one next to him reigned in and the other three slowed. Not for long, however. Jar shot a second one, but he didn’t fall. It looked like the bolt had only winged him.
When he breathed in he smelled horse droppings and clean air-a contradiction but it was what his mind said. The wind shifted. He gauged it and shot the third bolt. Another of the riders fell but he cried out when he hit so he may still be alive, Jar thought.
He spun around and ran back toward the troupe’s location for the night when he realized that there had to be other riders. Before he reached the camp he heard horse hoofs just before another five riders over ran the perimeter-which wasn’t that hard really-and rode into the encampment very close to where he ran.
Jar changed directions slightly to go for the closest robber. However, just as he reached for the rider, the robber fell off his horse. No blood and when moon shine shone on his face, he looked asleep.
Magic traces floated up. Hmm, someone else can do magic here. And they do not like to kill.
He switched target but this time the horse tipped over. The rider sprang away before the horse could touch the ground. Jar ran his way and punched the man hard, before he knew anyone was there. He turned on Jar but Jar got in another punch that threw the robber’s head back. The man recovered though and pulled out a knife. Jar shrugged and in a heartbeat had his knife out. The robber looked surprised but also determined.
They circled each other and both feinted. Another circle and again Jar pretended to attack. This time though the robber went with it, swung around, came toward Jar with more speed. Jar had to jump back to avoid the blade. They went back and forth. Jar swung but the robber used his knife as a block. Jar copied him two heartbeats later.
At one point Jar swung out too far and the robber was there with a quick stab to Jar’s middle. He reverse the direction his arm moved in and scored a slice of the top side of the robber’s arm. Blood scent filled Jar’s nose. The robber ignored the blood and probably the pain.
So the robber must use a dreamer to block any pain and to make himself faster. Jar thought about using his magic to rid the robber’s system of the dreamer. But he was a bit slow and the robber nicked his side twice.
Jar back handed the robber hard but he only staggered back three steps, then came at Jar again. Just then the robber looked surprise than fell asleep. Jar stepped back to make sure he was really asleep. The spell must work through the dreamer.
Three other attackers lay on the ground. Two looked dead with blood all over them. That may not mean much though if some of the blood belonged to someone else. A thruak noise sounded: a robber, with a mail vest, went down with an arrow in his chest.
A cross rain of wood began as a few of the raiders started to show bows and crossbows.
Jar turned to send a shield spell toward a family with four children. He turned back when a shadow reached for him. More torches and lanterns were lit and the new light showed a curved sword in the middle of a swing toward his shoulder. Jar willed his body to flip and to move sideways. It did faster than he thought possible but something sharp dug into one shoulder even as he spun out of the way.
Blood flowed down his arm and back. His leather and chain shirt had hindered the blade’s course into his shoulder but it still bit him. He landed on the ground to avoid another swing, but the horse’s hoofs danced his way. The shiny black hoofs with muscles that could move hundreds of pounds of meat faster than a man could run, came his way.
A burst of air escaped his mouth as he wanted to shrink into a ground squirrel hole. The bottom of one hoof cane at his face. He managed to scoot sideways so that it pounded the soil next to his ear. Dirt particulars blasted his ear and side of his face. Dirt got into one eye.
He rolled away and drew his longest knife. In a feat of panic he lifted his torso up enough to knick the horse with the knife. He hadn’t wanted to kill the animal when a knick should cause it to back off.
The knife went in almost too easy but when the cutting edge started to break through its skin the horse whined and reared. The hoofs came back down fast but on top of another area of ground.
It jerked back and reared again with a high pitched whiny. This time its hoofs landed a few feet away from Jar’s face. He took that to mean he had chased it away for now and rolled sideways and up. He got all the way up to his feet, which stretched some of his leg muscles more than it should have. He ran toward their camp.
Half way to it he ran by a raider on horseback. The man had an arrow nocked and ready to let fly. He must have been concentrating on his target for he didn’t seem to notice Jar. A mistake Jar decided to use. He reached up, snaked his arm through the space between the man’s arm and his wrist, grabbed the raider’s waist from the inside and pulled down.
The sudden movement caused the man to let go of the string and the arrow shot outward, but his aim had been knocked off which sent the arrow off to one side. It must have nicked a horse for one reared almost hitting its rider who had to duck and weave.
Jar’s man slipped off of his saddle headed for the ground. He hit hard powered by Jar who punched him in the chest once, then straightened and ran again. It took him four more heartbeats to reach the space around the troupe’s camp.
Four robbers had them under a sort of siege. He sent a throwing star into the back of one of the. He threw it extra hard and fast but his clothes most have partially block the star, for the robber arched his back in pain but then ignored it.
Jar picked up a half fist sized rock and threw it at the head of the same robber. The throw had been off a bit for the rock only crazed the side of the robber’s head. It bounced off the man’s ear.
He turned around this time. Good it got his attention away from the camp.
The robber snarled, spat and said something, Jar just shook his head and ran toward the man. The robbed looked surprised but brought up his sword. Before Jar could reach him however, something hit him and spun him around.
Jar panted hard, wiped sweat off of his forehead and looked down. Arrow stuck out of the robber’s side.
Jar could smell split blood and his own sweat as he looked at the man. He may not by dead so Jar ran up to him, punched him in the back of the head then ran toward the camp. He turned when a noise sounded from the right side. A robber came their way on horseback but before he could reach the camp he collapsed and fell off his horse. Seeing no arrow shaft he thought the man had fallen asleep.
So the wizard was still at it, good.
Jar continued to run toward another robber, he jumped high than came down on the man’s back. Both fell forward and Jar hit him on the head. Then, though, his head connected with the robber’s. Pain shot through his head and he saw stars. Even through the pain and nausea, he managed to shove his hands against the robber’s back to shove himself backwards; and the robber forward.
Jar hoped the man had the same pain and sight problems as he did. He landed on the grass on his face. His nose felt squashed and grass got in his mouth. He spat it back out. His sight cleared and he stood, even though he wobbled. The robber stayed down, Jar studied him, then checked closer. The man was dead. Jar blinked he hadn’t done anything to kill him that fast. Unless his neck had gotten broke.
No time to check on that. He started to run again even though he was almost at the wagon. One robber must have heard his footsteps for he turned and ran toward Jar. But it had been a mistake to witch his attention. The strong man came out from the wagon and swung his long handles club. The tip connected hard with the robber’s head. The man’s helm went flying and he fell.
An arrow flew at he strong man, he swung his club up but it only deflected the arrow. It sliced through his tunic and cut his shoulder a nice long slice. The strong man cried out but he kept on the move.
Soon though the surviving raiders rode off. Two on one horse. Jar shook his head, and wondered if they had gotten anything to remotely make it worth their time and loses. Jar went through the robber’s pockets and such seeing if he could find anything of interest.
Nothing but a few coins, three sliver, two smaller gold and four larger copper which hadn’t seen in ages, which he kept. He found a blue crystal on a chain around the robber’s neck, but it wasn’t worth much. The next robber was the same: a few coins with small gold, silver and those larger copper ones, and a blue crystal. The third one was still alive, Jar could smell more blood on him but the injuries didn’t seem life threatening, if the bleeding wasn’t stopped that is and no infection formed.
Jar found the blue crystal and when he grabbed it, the robber fought him-as much as possible that is. The man, growled and jerked then tried to smash in the side of Jar’s face but he had been able to use less than half the strength needed for that. He thought for a moment that a metallic taste formed in his mouth but it could be only residue from earlier when he bit his lip. He moved Jar’s head but not enough to do any damage. Jar let go of the crystal though. As he had thought already it wasn’t worth much and he now figured it was used as an identifying. It could also be a key to the gang’s hideout. Some have used a certain word to open a side of a mountain but usually it was a key: a piece of something that had a magical force embedded in it. It didn’t usually amount to much but it was attuned to the magic that open a secret door, when they touched the door would open. Sometimes it depended on a simple spell to for the key, at times it took a moderately tough spell and there are times it took a very specific ritual, with lots of hard to do parts. Sometimes the last could take days with exhausting actions and spells. You had to know just the right ones, done in the correct order with absolutely no slip ups.
This one he thought would have been very simple but maybe not. When the robber gasped, jerked upright then fell back dead, Jar pulled off the cord that had kept the key around the robber’s throat. One never knew when something like this could come in handy.
Once he had the crystal in his pocket, then checked over the robber’s body. He found his throwing star still in the man’s clothes and he found three medium gold coins, six sliver and a mixture of the large copper coins with small ones and a medium one, than the other had. Once he finished he hurried on to the camp. John greeted him with a smile.
“How is everyone?”
“Fine, the strong man was injured but he will heal okay. No one else got hurt.” John looked closer though then said, “No one except for you that is. We are save now, take off that guard jerkin and let us treat that shoulder. It most hurt.”
Jar shock his head but then decided that it did hurt a lot. He had blocked out most of the pain but it did need some help plus his padding and leather shirt needed cleaning and fixing.
He let them help him off with it and let loose a short yell only at the last when it pulled away from his arm. He smelled his own blood, not for the first time. And in the torch and lantern light saw it. The color was off, more red than an elf’s would be but not quite as red as human’s. He didn’t know if anyone noticed, except for the full elf that is. He would be able to smell the difference anyway. The elf didn’t say anything though when he saw Jar look at him, he gave a very short shoulder shrug.
Jar wiped his face and his head jerked back. There must have been some of his blood on the back of his hand. Yecch, he hated it when any blood but especially his, got in his mouth.
A sudden sensation of hot and pain at his would caused him to cry out again and to jerk forward away from it. He heard a feminine cry and turned. There stood the daughter with a wet rag in her hand which was raised. She looked surprised and maybe frightened.
He said, “I’m sorry, I should have seen you there.”
Jar turned back around and backed up a bit.
He said, “Go ahead I am ready this time.”
She must have thought about it or saw her mother nod at her, for a few seconds later he felt the heat and pain again when she pressed the rag against it.
He held in the next yip, and gritted his teeth while she cleaned around the wound, being as careful as she could.
Next the mother wrapped it twice securing the bandage with a couple of thin vines she had collected during their journeys. He flexed his left arm. The bandages and wound made it stiff but he could still use it. He thanked them both.
Later, after the bodies were cleared out, he found that no one in the caravan had been killed, three had been wounded like him and the strong man though. The robbers who had been put to sleep woke suddenly and found themselves surrounded by armed men while their weapons had disappeared. They let themselves by taken captive. One tall, skinny man though kept yelling insults to them all. They were placed in cages one member of the caravan carried along with empty barrels and wood boxes. They would be turned over the city guard or high sheriff to this county when they reached the next town.
The rest of the night and the next day went well. The cloths that doubled as bandages were changed two but kept on after the second time because the bleeding had stopped and he seemed to be healing fine. He always healed faster than most humans probably because of his elven father.
Seven days later they were two days outside of the next town: Cobalt, which was known for a quarter that had been colored blue probably during a much earlier wizard war. The buildings, trees, ground all wore the same shade of blue. New bushes, trees and grassed that grew from old ones were all blue. A couple of people have tried to transplant the blue trees but they lost their strange color a few months after the transplant, if they survived at all. Cobalt also had a wide and tall wall, a large church and political buildings even though it was considered a town. A further ride on the mule cart, and they would be there.
However, another robber band had other ideas.



End excerpt.

2018's Nanowrimo novel excerpts # 1

For those who do not know November is writing a novel month. A number of years ago a group of people got together because they thought everyone should write a novel and that everyone has at least  one novel in them. So they came up with a plan. Convince and encourage everyone to do at least a 50,000 word novel in November. It has grown so thousands, if not ten thousands of people at least try each year. Some of those are long time professionals, some of whom write out the next book in a certain series each November. The web site, nanowrimo.net , has many types of helps to get people through this. Some humorous and some serious.
Oh, I didn't use a lot of names here-called one guy the strongman-because even though I named them in the first chapter I forgot what name I used in some cases. One of the revising things I need to do.
So I have done this six times-I think-five years in a row and one somewhere around 8-10years ago. I have written mostly Science Fiction but also Urban Fantasy, steampunk, and now what I think of as classical fantasy.  Two of those books I have revised and formatted so they are for sale. A third one is waiting for a cover then it will be published. And yes, this year I am doing it again.

This is an excerpt from the prologue of what I am now calling "The Paper Key"

A half-elf spy steals a key that could rise a war-god. The worshippers who owned it are better organized than he thought therefore he has to hide with a troupe of performers. Before he can extract himself from them, the war-god is raised, now he has to stop it. 


Excerpt of prologue 
First excerpt from my ’18 NaNo Novel. Because it is the first I decided on starting at the beginning so this is the first 2,660 words. I tried to find a cliffhanger within a good number of words. All I did was run it though a spell checker-okay, I did some slight revising but only on a couple of sentences. I also did some revising while writing. I think I am, as some people call it, a slinky writer for I go back to fix something or add then forward again. I usually work on the last two to five paragraphs I did in one sitting and the next sitting of work.

This is a more or less a classical fantasy: A half-elf spy steals a key that could rise a war-god. The worshippers who owned it are better organized than he thought therefore he has to hide with a troupe of performers to get it to his boss. Before he can extract himself from them however, the war-god is raised, now he has to stop it.




Part of the Prologue to The Paper Key



A shadow moved on top of the ten foot tall stone wall. It joined other shadows, for the moon shone down and a breeze blew. Branches moved, as did night birds and cats on the hunt. Torch light flickered on the outer streets and inside the house he had come to rob.
His black with dark gray panels, trousers and tunic faded into the dark as easy as a snow leopard hid in snow. Already he felt warm which would increase throughout this event but he had experience that many times and knew what to expect. The climb up the outside of the wall had gone without a hitch. The class and sharp metal embedded into the top of the wall did not prove to be a deterrent as the owner had probably thought.
The air carried scents of trees, tended flowers, fresh mulch, dogs and guards who didn’t seem to care how much they sweated on duty. Two of which just went by so he better get moving. The guards that worked for this house patrolled by twos in a pattern that moved in a strange way. So it would be possible that another two would show up in seconds or in half an hour.
He looked down then with quick short steps, ran to a tree limb that hung over the wall. The shadow had seen it earlier when he came by to check the security. He smiled with humor. He had dressed in black and white finery just like those who kept track of money and who managed estates for those too rich to do it themselves. He knew of one religion who sent out young men dressed like that. He went only by himself instead of with a partner but no one seemed to notice.
But he saw the humor of the idea of one religion going to the door of another to talk about their god and book. He managed to get in by just not taking no for an answer and by pretending to be a new believer with a fire inside. They had chased him out of the house with sharp bladed weapons. It hadn’t been his fault that in his fear induced hurry he had taken a wrong turn and ran along the wall until a dog chased him back the right way. Just because he yelled didn’t mean the dog had bit him as everyone seemed to think. His clothes had been ripped by then and the guards may have seen a spot or two of blood but even injured and yelling curses down on them he somehow made it out of the gate and on his way. Everyone saw him leaking blood and yelling.
Now his clothes were still made from very fine cloth and silk but none were white and these would not tear anywhere near as easy as those special garments.
He half ran to the spot under the limb and hopped upward. He caught the rough bark with the first attempt. First with one hand he let go and reached higher before he could start to fall. The second hand went up further. When both hands settled over the top of the branch he pulled himself up. Somehow he got a leaf in his mouth. Chewy. He didn’t spit it out like most humans would have done. Half of him came from his dad’s side and his dad’s people liked greenery of many types.
Once in the tree he stood up and ran across the limb. He knew it would hold his weight. The same with the next one, on the other side of the tree. He spotted a branch from the next tree and leapt to it. It gave a bit when he landed but didn’t break or even crack.
Dogs barked down the way almost as if they could sense him this far away. Maybe they had heard something or as well trained animals they just knew someone who shouldn’t be there was. Of course no one but their handler was supposed to be there. That included other dogs, squirrels, birds , etc.
The Shadow moved from tree to tree. Something else he had noticed while here a few days ago. The tree were old and needed trimming for their branches reached each other. A nice trail for someone who knew how to run over narrow “trails” and who could see well at night.
A dog came near under one tree just as he landed near the trunk. It looked up, might have smelled him, but didn’t see him. He left a tiny bit of scent from a bottle then leapt to the next tree.
He cursed on his way through the sky. In his hurry and distraction, he had jumped to the wrong branch. The one he landed on bent, jiggled and creaked. The dog must have heard it but it gave him only a glance before it resumed its surveillance of the tree he had been on. It knew something was up there. The scent confused its thoughts though for it still searched the tree he had been on when it saw or smelled or heard him.
The guard though came running and called for the dog. He is used a name from a language the Shadow was not familiar with. It sounded guttural and angry. A further confirmation that he had chosen the right estate after all.
The dog took its time responding so the guard turned his attention to it for a moment. While he said something else in that tongue the Shadow moved through his tree and launched himself through the air to a last one in this row. If the guard, or anyone else, had looked they would have seen something block the lights from the house for a moment. But he figured no one looked. From the last tree he checked out the guard and dog who had finally lost interest in that tree. Maybe that had been its favorite tree to fertilize since the guard cursed in the town’s language.
He took advantage of that to leap high and to gab hold of an ugly face in a bias relief on the corner of the house. He held onto the guy’s head-he figured no woman would be that ugly-and pulled himself up. Sweat rolled down his back. The clothes had gone passed warm but he knew how to live with that too. So he did. He licked his lips and got sweat off his upper lip. Quite a bit too.
Once his feet rested on top of that head, he looked around and noticed more heads. He had seen them earlier but hadn’t been able to get a good enough look to know what they were.
Lights from distance windows made his climb a bit easier but they also would allow someone to notice him better. They still may not know what he was, maybe a trained Kull spider sent to kill someone, or a lost monkey in search for food, but they would sound the alarm anyway.
Up he went, his hands became slippery with sweat but because of his gloves they could still grip protrusions and more of those heads. But not all of the bricks he used as footholds were of the same quality.
When he pushed on one with the pad of his right foot, the edge crumbled. His foot slipped. He looked down in time to see small pieces of brick fall. They would land near that guard. He would look up. His right foot hit his left and knocked it off of its perch. Now he hung like a Christmas goose ready to be sold by just his hands. He managed to swing to one side where it was darker.
Even though he lost sight of the brick pieces he knew when they landed. The guard turned to look. Sweat dripped down The Shadow’s back. His shirt had come untucked and some of the sweat dripped out from under the shirt before it could be absorbed. He saw the drops twinkle when it reflected various lights. If any hit the guard he would look up.
The fingers of one hand started to slip. The guard couldn’t help but notice when The Shadow landed on him. It would not matter though for both of them would be dead.
He let go with the hand that had begun to slip, held his breath and reached up again with it. It landed to hard and bounced. His second hand trembled. He quickly threw the free hand back up. He managed to catch the head again. The thing’s ceramic hair helped to keep his hand in place.
The Shadow managed to get his feet back in place. He looked down. The guard was walking away, at a sedate speed. So he hadn’t been seen. He didn’t know if the man had looked up or not but obviously he hadn’t seen anything or thought the movement of shadow around the head was bat.
After a short rest he continued on. After a few still fast heartbeats he stopped to listen: the very feint rustle of his clothes, a guard talking in a soft voice, a slight breeze curving around the corner of the building.
Even up this high he could smell the scent of the trees and mulch, bird droppings too. Nests were built over in that direction. They really should check on that more often.
Another minute of climbing and he found the right window. Nice of them to place one in a good position for him. He held onto one of the heads with one hand. Even though his flexible glove he could feel the spikes of the man’s hair. Jar wiped more sweat off of his upper lip. This time dirt and grim had gotten mixed in with it. Must be from the dust he stirred up or when he brushed a bit too close to the materials the house had been built from.
A click sounded. He froze for a heartbeat but he knew that sound. The window’s lock now lay in the open position. Most house owners skipped on the locks and security of upper windows. Some even left windows open all night: for air or for a romantic visitor.
One foot slipped when he swung it to the open window but he hopped for one jump and managed to get through the open space. His second foot hit something but the thud wasn’t loud.
Once he stood on the floor inside, he made sure the window was closed. He even hooked it shut without locking it. He may be in a hurry to leave later.
The hallway he found himself in had no lamps, but a trace of light came from the stars and another bit from various lights on nearby floors.
One room, two rooms and finally at a door that looked ordinary. He slipped a small pouch out of an inside pocket, sewed to be just wider than the pouch. One small button kept them in that pocket. He flipped open the cloth and studied the objects in the pouch. He picked one, placed it in the keyhole and fiddled with it. Nothing.
He tired the shorter one. Still nothing: oops, it caught. A twist of his hand and the tumbler moved. Not far though. He tired it again to mixed reviews:It turned more but the door still wouldn’t open. A third try and the lock turned two tumblers. A jiggle on the door handle and it opened. As he thought it would.
A fast move inside, made quicker when he heard a footstep from around a corner. He closed the door and listened through it. The smooth wood made pressing his ear against it feel comfortable. Most be waxed too. The footsteps continued on. He stood there for a minute to make sure than turned to look at the room. A den or office. A large desk close to the door, carpet on the floor, shelves with scrolls and six tall cases with glass fronts filled with the new books and small statues and other ceramic, marble and wood items. One larger one on the desk sort of looked like the guy whose head adorned the house. He moved closer to see it better. One ugly man with short hair except in the middle where a strip looked over two inches. In real life that had to be close tall as the length of the Shadow’s foot.
He moved around while he looked for a hidden compartment. While he did Jar picked up various pieces and made sure they were not put back in exactly the same spot. Three that looked gold or had gems he placed in his pocket.
He found what might be an alter in front of the desk near where the tall statue of the ugly man stood. Various small statuettes had been placed in various positions. They all sat in a case that looked like the inside of a cave. An obvious alter but to whom?
The Shadow moved on. Touched and moved more of the cups, statues, and curved animals just a touch. Not every one but enough for them to notice. He pocketed another cup, a sliver one this time. They would get that one back though. His back had stopped sweating and he kept his nose alert for scents that would give away a hiding place or someone in here.
Every time he moved over his eyes went back to the small alter. After the sixth time he moved back there. He reached out and touched one of the figurines. It didn’t move. When he tried to lift it he found it was somehow connected to the floor of the cave. Why?
Even his eyes could not see anything in the darkness around the cave. Was it that way on purpose?
Jar took out a small, special lantern. It burned unscented oil, it held only enough for ten minutes of light. The box that held the tiny flame had only one clear side and that only in the center. Carefully crafted mirrors direct the light through that clear spot.
He set it down and used the built in flint to light it. He shone it on the crafted cave. There on the edges of each side a very tiny line. That could explain why the statuettes were sealed to the floor. He moved to the back of the desk and slid in as close as he could get. He reached for the cave but something sparked. Instinctively his hand pulled back before he realized it needed to. So it had protections. Another reason to get into it.
The Shadow mumbled some words in ancient elfish and reached again, slower. Same reaction. This time though a tiny star appeared for half a heart beat next to the larger statue on the desk.
Okay, that was interesting.
He placed an invisible shield around it that kept all magic inside the shield. So no alarms could be sent or an order sent to the cave. He managed to reach for the cave through an invisible wall that made his hand tingle. He touched the closest wall and felt around. There had to be a latch somewhere.
It felt rough like real rock. Someone could have carved it out of rock. It would take a lot of work but it could be done.
The Shadow found a tiny hinge under an outcrop of rock in the back.
Good, now to find the method to lift the top.
He reached further back but at the moment he decided no one would make it this hard to get at a latch when they would want to get it often, his foot slid forward. His side touched the magic wall there. He had been too eager and stretched his body too far.
Something snapped. When he pulled back, his body did not move.

end excerpt

Set of five very short tales in different lands

Been a while since I have posted anything new. As some of you may now I post stories each week on Google +, part of an ongoing event every Saturday with other writers there. Any genre is possible. And if you are on G+ they are posted in a Collection called something like SaturdayScenes 2018.  

This week I decided to post stories that take place in other lands. Each one is a flash tale, or a bit longer, based on a picture. Lately I have been doing a lot of those and hopefully this year I will publish an anthology of around 22 of these stories. But with these stories I considered stories that take place on spaceships or another planet, but I wanted other lands here, not in space.

The first takes place in Africa and was written many, many months ago. The last takes place in Japan and was written not that long ago. The others are in-between. I revised them all today so they will be a bit longer and, easier-hopefully-to read. In case you have read them before. They are 3,069 words long totally. They are historical, general fiction and science fiction. Two take place in Africa, one around Norway but more North, one in the Middle east three or four centuries ago and is part of my Dark Castle series-which are posted on G+, and the last one in Japan. One takes place during the War of Roses or one of them.



So without further adieu here is story one:


The Tower
The boy and girl, tall and lanky, even though in their early teens, walked toward the end of the hills. For now they were called Esiankiki and Loiyan, but that would change as they grew.
Both felt not right for the mountains they were leaving were strange to them. Not at all like the Savanna. They feet ached from the hard rough surfaces they had walked on.
They stood the beginning of one side of the part of the Savanna where they came from. The trees they knew still grew here and some of the animals they killed or competed with came here too. The air felt warm as it should. The scents of grass, the droppings of lions, and desert air all grew as they walked closer to the natural border. Loiyan thought he heard the cough of a lion far in the distance, but little of any other sounds.
It would be good to get back to the foods they knew, bread made from the grains they had grown with.
Before going home though both had wanted to see the Tower. It looked manmade shape under many and many years of grime, but very few stories passed down to the next generation told of it. No one knew when it had been built or why. To worship the Red god or the Black one maybe. Loiyan thought it was something the evil Red god would like. Esiankiki wasn’t sure. It had different levels, each one with what looked like walls that swooped up to a sharp point. The oi-boni had never restricted the Masai from going there but he had given warnings, as far as they knew no one had climbed to the top-fear maybe or that it was just different?
Both had some honey to eat so they did not worry about food. Water might be a problem later. It took them two hours or more to get to the tower. Up close it looked both man made and natural. Neither knew how that could be but each agreed on that.
Loiyan placed the palm of his hand on it: rough like the huge rocks they had just climbed over but warm. Esiankiki placed her ear to it. She thought she heard something but so faint she couldn’t be sure: she said that she didn’t like the roughness against her ear’s skin. She pulled Loiyan back when he wanted to taste it with his tongue. Too rough for that she said.
Around the other side they saw a way in, or up. What could be very old steps, worn smooth by feet and weather. With very careful steps they went up. The first level had a place to walk but they couldn’t see over the edge of the wall even as tall as they were. The same with the second level. As far as they could find there was no way in, and no places to sacrifice offerings mixed with grass. Maybe that was on the top. But once they reached as far as they could go still nothing. The inside of the walls looked and felt smooth. The bottom had smelled of age and something neither one liked. But up here only air. They saw lions and tall grass further on, for the walls had grown shorter on the way up.
No blacken areas with very old ash so no sacrifices up here either. So what was this used for? To watch the lions, to see if any enemies were coming? The People did sometimes fight.
They examed the walls carefully for long minutes. Loiyan found lines in the inner wall like a doorway, The People used curtains over doorways, but they knew others had wood and metal doors, some with metal and what was called glass. They both had been to cities, ridden in cars and a train. They had seen a helicopter land. That had been noisy, worse than a very large pride of lions Loiyan had been trapped in when very small. All of the beasts roaring at once had deafen him. The helicopter’s noise had been louder than a big rain storm with lightning and thunder. But if this was a door he nor Esiankiki had seen any way to open it. He tried to slide his fingernails into the cracks but something stopped them. Esiankiki noticed the indentations near waist level on one level, but they didn’t seem to do anything. Loiyan who had the hearing of a warrior thought he heard clicks from inside when he pressed then indentations, but nothing happened. Both felt tiny vibrations in the door but they did nothing. Esiankiki thought she tasted in the air something like what flavors the air when lightning strikes. The space in-between the lines grew warmer but only a little. That made no sense.
After a while they gave up and walked down. Back at the bottom they saw more lines in the tower but they were shaped wrong for a doorway for any person. And they all went into the ground. So they knew the Tower went deeper like a huge rock. These doors looked like something that slid out maybe. Esiankiki stated that she wasn’t sure why she thought of that. Loiyan thought it would be something larger than a hut if so. With a final shrug-that the People had picked up from the shorter white visitors-they left and finally headed home. The People or someone else had lived in the Tower many many ages ago, they were now sure of but who? And how did they get the doors to open? They would never know. Maybe The People had climbed those steps and but they came away with more questions that could not be answered so they either forgot them or decided not to bother others with unanswerable questions. Maybe when Loiyan became a warrior he would ask and come back with others who knew more than he did. For now though they would just go home, it had been too long since they had seen family.

end


The Last Viking

The Viking looked over the side of his ship. The mountains rose out of the ocean, higher than he would want to climb anymore. The day looked cloudy and cold even though he was viking and therefore used to cold. While not as deep as in some places the water here was still deep enough to hide monsters, or even an angry whale.
Askell glanced along his longship. The wood looked aged, it had nicks, claw marks, and blacken areas. That last fire they barely got out in time. He supposed he could get one of the new style of ships with multiple masts but he, and his crew, were too old to change that much.
He stroked his grey beard, looked down.
"To port now!” He shouted
Something scraped the hull as the longship turned too slowly.
So this ocean was not deep, those rocks were hard to see. Movement under the water, Oh oh, something huge lived down there.
It neared the surface and before he could cry out for them to raise oars, three of them hit it. It thrashed, caused water to splash into the longboat. Cold water that soaked their footwear. The oars didn’t break, thank Odin.
He snarled, spat bile out. Nothing would sink them in this cruise.
Once the water settled again he ordered them to head for the distant bit of land. It had what looked like a strip of land they could beach the longship. Further in lay the base of a tall cliff They might be able to build housing right next to the cliff and have fish, birds and seals and maybe even smaller whales to eating and to use for tools and clothes.
He looked around. No one would be chasing them this far, but if they did they would pay for that with their blood, for his crew still kept their weapons sharp.
Askell double checked the depth and for any other movements. He would have to be on his toes to make sure nothing else hindered them.

end


Congratulations


Jacob snarled, he wouldn’t let them smash him into the mud. He shoved against one man the same age as himself. That worthy went “ufff” as another two bodies jumped on top of the others. Some of them let out exclamations too. His lighter brown skin could easily be identified among their black skin. They all were from around here while he came from somewhere different.
He twisted his body one way then another, kept his legs moving so they couldn’t be grabbed. He sneezed: someone wore an awful cologne. Probably Kensu.
Someone used both hands to shove him harder, forced his face toward the mud patch on the parade ground. The whole area was plain dirt, not even grass. Mud holes were not rare even though most of it was dry dirt. Light metal bleachers filled one side. But they would be of no advantage to Jacob, nor would the various light and speaker poles around the area.
Jacob surged his back upward to flip off whoever was on his back. It didn’t work. He thought it was time to start punching and jabbing. A second thought, no one used fists, hands or feet as weapons. They all depended on brute strength, and their weight, to get his face into the mud.
Their grunts and heavy breathing filled his ears, but no name calling or obcentaites, which surprised him. He managed to get his feet and hands on the ground: one hand and knee splashed the mud around. He shoved upward and managed to stand as his attackers fell off. However his victory lasted one-second for someone tackled him and rolled with him toward the mud. Kerrich, he thought for. Sweat matted his hair, the clothes of those that touched him were clammy with it. He spat out the mud in his mouth-at least they used fresh water and mostly clean dirt.
Again he tried to get his hands under him so he could shove off the ground, but two more joined in the, what was still called, a dog pile. His face inched closer to the mud. No! These guys weighed a lot even though he had proven himself the better, stronger fighter.
With a snarl he surged upward, but only moved an inch, more poundage landed on him. He could smell the mud, at least it seemed to be just water and dirt. Before he could take a breath his face smashed down into the mud. It filled his mouth when he breathed in, splashed up his cheeks, got in his ears and hair. A roar of victory followed that and with a suddenness that surprised him all of the weight vanished.
He jumped up, turned to face them. Eight young men stood in badly formed semi-circle. Their formation instructor would not be happy with that a part of his mind said.
Half of them looked unsure, would he attack them?
The leader stepped forward but only so close.
He said, “Congratulations, you will be the first cadet to become Captain.”
Jacob blinked, they knew that?
“We honor you with our traditions.”
He nodded, for he knew of this one where they congratulated another cadet to raise in rank, but never expected to have it done to him. They had never really excepted him.
He spat though, to get the taste of the mud out of his mouth.
Jon-Wel said, “The commissary has a new batch of Mars Malt beer. You can wash out your mouth with a bottle. I will buy the first one.”
Jacob didn’t know if that was part of the tradition or because Jacob didn’t usually have much money unlike them. But…
He smiled, “I would be happy to wash the mud out that way,”
Some of the men looked relieved.
The leader nodded and motioned toward the store.
Jacob thought, He may never be one of them, but he had their respect and well wishes, that was good.

end


The Way Stop Castle


Jounn turned in his saddle to face his friend Brock. He felt glad they had stopped. The horses hoofs had been stirring the sand dust. It made his mouth dry when he breathed it in, not to mention making him cough.
“There is the castle I told you about.”
After he spoke he looked back down from the small dune they both had stopped on. Night covered the desert which is what they wanted. It cooled quickly here after the sun went down. But the dark made it better not to be seen.
The castle, a ruled by a neutral Duke far from England, sat on a hill. The neutrality though will probably have to change to one or the other roses, he thought. The structure looked gray tall and narrow with a full moon behind it. A village in front of it. Guards walked the wall. The gate looked still open even this late.
Brock said, “That wall, most be a good ten feet hight and what? Three feet thick. It would hold an army for a while. If one came here at all.”
“I am not fearful of armies, but of sudden changes of neutral Dukes. Or of an assassin.”
“You think they would really send one after us?”
Jounn shrugged, “They have done it before. During the last bit of fighting, which I can barely recall, my cousin was challenged to a duel by someone who turned out to be en expert swordsman. After the duel the man disappeared but left a rose. I have heard of that all my life with warnings to be watchful.”
“But if you don’t trust the Duke, why stay here?”
“We are not staying here. We present ourselves and the Duke gives us a suite of rooms. He knows me so will not think it strange that I would come here. We say we need to mediate over the conflict so we need to stay in the rooms without being disturbed. Once settled we change to less conspicuous clothes, bathe and be rid of traveling odors then head down to the stables. In my last two visits I learned that there is a back gate through the wall. It is small but a horse can get through. We get our horses and leave that way. Even if a guard sees us and if he should report it the Duke would be still able to say that he gave us rooms and then we left without even a proper thank you or good bye. That he knows not when, or where we went. Or even if we left the castle. We could be hiding among the vassals and others that live here.”
“Do you think that will work?”
“I believe it will, but we still need to be on our toes and watch. We will be able to get supplies for a long trek through the desert, but we hide our trail and head South, which might further confuse anyone that is sent after us.”
“Well, that plan is better than no plan, or just running.”
“As I said we will watch and keep our hands close to our swords and daggers. If he portrays us we will sell our lives dearly. If he is still neutral than we go as I said and leave him with an excuse.”
His friend nodded and said, “Than we should make sure we have no roses on us then he can say he did not realize we had chosen sides.”
Jounn nodded, picked off a brooch off of his chest, while his friend ripped off a fastener on his cloak, and started his horse down the dune.

end

Way of the Samurai

“You are late.”
“I know, Father, I have no excuse,” even though I did-saying good bye and finding my round hat had not been easy. I had tied my waist long hair into one braid. My long dress would be help against the cold. I wore a lighter outfit under it, if it warmed. I suspect that my Father had on something under his armor. His helmet with the grimace face hid his face as it should. He wore his two favorite swords and I am sure a third. He stood between the posts of the gate as the sun sank. He looked magnificent.
He grunted and nodded once.
Our road led between two tall strands of bamboo over a rough surface. No one had come this way in years so they had not kept it up. The wind blew leaves around.
Father was a hard man, but a tough, experienced, brave and honorable warrior. He showed his love in training me well so I would be able to defend myself and in teaching me honor. I have only the one sword though. I am not a Samurai so can not wear the armor but I am not sure I would want to.
The air smelled strongly of bamboo and growing things. Maybe we should take some of the shoots to eat later, but Father is ready to leave now.
I sighted, I have already defended myself. That group of three thieves had shown surprise when their heads rolled to the ground. The last one had been a fair fighter-he lasted five swings. And months later, the first man I had killed for trying to dishonor me-he had been someone important. Later when questioned Father acted like he didn’t know who had killed him.
Now we go-to somewhere else. He has not told me where but I trust him. Maybe it was to protect me, or because he was tired of this place and just wanted to go to some place new, or he knew of something bad coming to this area soon. He would train me more in the way of the Samurai as we go. Maybe I would be able to make my own armor by the times we get there-if I decided to wear some.
I am glad I had brought two skins of water and two bags of nuts and cooked rice, they would last if we found nothing else to eat later and didn’t collect the shoots here. He would have something on under his armor too.
I kept my eyes on him and did not turn for one last look.

end

New story "Into The Mountain" from a pic.

I have done a series of stores based on a series of Pictures: drawings, paintings etc. that Charlie Hoover puts up. He shows the artist's name and all details. Many of the stories are very short mini tales. Some are flash and some are much longer-a regular short story-like this one. Charlie has a web site now where he shows those pictures. So I include a link there after this story. I describe the setting of the picture in the story but I am trying this to show you the picture that inspired me for this story. All of these stories are free and are here or on Google+ and on FaceBook.

This one took me a while, but I am working on other pic tales, including one not of Hoover’s Collection, stories to send out to markets, and a set of Western stories I still need a pic of a Marshal’s badge in good shape. I have tried two picture sites.    Anyway, this is 3358 words long and tells of why the man in the picture found himself there and why he took the trip. Not to mention how cold that water is. All of the details of the artist is on Hoover’s site.
Now to the actual story:
Joshua had made it. The Crack existed. The hike had been so very long and in some places dangerous and hard. Some of it had been rather easy too. He still held his ski poles he had used to make the steep slopes easier. Hikers in some countries love them. He wasn’t sure he did though.        His breath still came hard for until about five minutes ago the angle of the sloop that led here had been very steep. They had warned him about that though.        The high, wide, smooth cliff he studied really had been split, so many ages ago no one could know for sure. When he had first seen the various sizes of rocks that rose here and there from the water and on dry land, he had known he made it. That included one to his left, not far from that opening, that looked three times higher than him and in wild imagination, looked like a giant alien head with a helmet that had been worn down.           Once up here on the flat rock, he had rested for a few minutes until he looked up and saw the crack. He hid his stuff in a small hole behind a large rock out of sight of anyone, except for the pack on his back and the poles. Then he had hurried into the water. They had mentioned that too.       Now he stood before his goal. A thrill filled his heart. He couldn’t help it he just stared at the crack in the cliff wall. Well, his first goal, anyway. He would have to go inside to get to his second one.        The water in the river he stood in just reached the tops of his well worn boots-they had started brand new. Cold water ran down his ankles and feet. Behind him no sandy beach existed, the water just started after quite a few feet of mostly flat rock. Rain, no doubt, ran down this very slight sloop and joined the water in the river that flowed by here. Or could it be a very large creek? What the case it looked like only smooth granite existed here.       A soft noise made him look up and to one side. A flock of small, white birds made their way high above the water. They followed the river when it curved around and went though a much wider crack. The only other sound came from the raven behind him. It let loose a slight caw every few minutes. It may want food, or it came to bring luck or to warn of death.         Joshua studied the crack and the water at its base. He wasn’t sure if what he saw was a reflection on top of the clear smooth water at the base of the crack or if he could make out the base of the crack in what looked like chest high water. The flat rock he stood on may continue its slant downward which made the water much deeper at the base of the cliff.         A motion made him look down. A fish swim by. That would make sense for those birds lived here some place. Therefore there must be insects, berries and tiny fish for them to eat. Maybe for him too, for his food was low after that long journey.        He stared at the crack again. Part of him hadn’t believed it was real and another part doubted he could do it. But he had. He had become motivated when he realized his life went no where. Memories of stories he had heard of this place had to his mind. In his early years he had talked to no fewer than four people who had been here. That included two Native Americans, and one who surprised him. An old asian man who had served with the 442nd during WWII. Joshua never could be sure if the man had come here before his stint in the military, or after he came back home, but his descriptions fit what the others had seen. He said that it had changed his life. They all said that. That had made him determined to go see what lay inside the crack.         The journey had been dangerous, a bear had chased him for an hour. A day later a beaver of all things, had wanted to attack him. He hadn’t realized they were so big and fast and angry looking. Those teeth looked very sharp. He still wasn’t sure why the bear had stopped. Maybe he had reached the end of its hunting grounds or more disturbing that he had chanced into the territory of something that even scared large bears. He didn’t see any sign of anything but hadn’t spent much time looking either. The beaver had come out of no where. It could be that it had experienced humans before and didn’t like them or it thought it was some strange bear who would steal his food and destroy his dam or something else. He had noticed the dam and wanted to take a picture of it but that beaver changed his mind fast. No one else had mentioned bears or any type of animal. Could they be some form of test, he shrugged? Or they had set up home after the last of the four had been here.        Before the bear he had walked a narrow strip with a long drop on one side and a short cliff on the other. That had taken over an hour to navigate. Only inches on one side even as his other side brushed up against a short cliff.  Days later and he had one day of heavy breathing, walking up that very steep incline. He had been warned about those two sections though, and even more.      At night he had made himself as secure as possible. The way the older of those Native Americans had taught him. His fires had always been in hole that had been cleared for two feet around it. When possible he used a rock as a back drop. That helped to reflect heat his way. The first few nights had been hard. He had awakened at slight nosies and once overfed his fire, which came close to jumping out of the hole.      Joshua looked around: at the water, at the flat rock, back at the smooth cliff. A frown formed on his lips. If the animals had been tests maybe that deep water was one too.     He walked closer, the water came up to his knees. The men he had talked thought this place appeared to be a museum of creation. It showed how the earth had been made and perhaps why. They had not been so clear about that. That is what changed them evidently, he thought. His path through the water seemed louder perhaps because no other sound, except for the birds flapping their wings, could be heard here.      Very cold-another test? At least the water looked pure enough not to worry about drinking it, unless something died up stream of course. Its scent filled his nose, not much else up here to cover  that scent either, he found he liked it.       Joshua thought about the water. He could swim if it went over his head, but he would have to with his backpack on, it still weighed quite a bit. It might protect his lights and food from getting wet. He walked to one side to study it. Maybe he could approach from another angle? He moved over about ten feet, and walked toward the wall.       Oops, if he saw correctly the water might go under the cliff right here. He didn’t need to slip under it with the water.       He moved over to the other side. Could he move some of the larger rocks and step on them? His legs would still be in the water but he could handle that since they were wet already. Joshua moved one rock lager than his head, with a flat top. He found another and slid it down by the first one and one that had sat near the crack already.       He used his feet to get another one.       Joshua’s foot slipped, even with his hiking boots on. Cold water covered his head. The next thing he knew his back side touched the rock bottom. Taken by surprise air had rushed out of his lungs, so they burned already. His heavy boots, now soaked with water, pulled his feet down. His back sunk deeper with the pack on it. His eyes had opened in shock. Now with water in them he couldn’t see beyond a blur. Which way was up?     Of course, it hadn’t been that deep. He sought purchase with his feet. They slipped, again and again. His lungs ached and burned. Water seeped into his mouth.       He commanded his mind to slow, he could do this, with slower yet rushed movements he managed to get both feet under him.      Joshua leapt upward, shattered the surface, hard enough to create a sort of waterfall upward. He stumbled back, breathed hard, gasped, coughed three times. Bile and clear water filled his mouth. He spat it all out. He managed to stumble to where he had left his stuff. He had two towels there in a second pack. He unzipped it and took out one towel, rubbed the cloth over his face and hair. Then he hurriedly slipped off the one he wore. He almost tore the zipper getting it open. Joshua felt the inside of the pack, and various flashlights.      Good nothing was wet, except the clothes he had on. They still dripped water. He sighed and gathered drift wood. Not as much as he wanted so he walked back half an hour and picked up fallen branches of various sizes. He kept an eye out for snakes. He had seen four on this journey but none had threaten him, but he knew some were poisonous in these mountains, so he checked while he picked up wood.      Once back at where he left his stuff he cleared as much of a  small hole as he could, on one side of a larger rock uplift. It would help to reflect the heat back at him. He didn’t have to worry about burning the forest down here. He used some of his surelit and got a nice fire going.    Then he stripped-everything for even his underwear had been soaked all the way through. He even took off his socks. He had another two pair and shorts and a thicker t-shirt. He put them on then draped the wet clothes on rocks and on the ground near the fire. It helped keep him warm as the sun went down. He had a small dinner: jerky, a cereal bar and freeze dried rice-that water made good food too. The bar had veggies in it so he had every thing he needed.      The morning sun woke him. He had moved twice, once to empty his bladder and once to add wood to the fire. On the way he had religiously checked his chosen spot to make sure it really was safe. He always kept the fire going through the night in its hole in the ground and his brightest light near at hand. He had brought some stuff that supposedly would repel any animal handy too. But so far nothing had come near him-that he knew of. Had the small fire frighten them? Or had he lucked out? He didn’t think anything would come his way here, but best to make sure. So he kept this fire going too. It still burned at a low level. His clothes were mostly dry. One area of his shirt though still held water and the back pockets of his pants still felt soaked. His towel still produced water when he rung it.They smelled of smoke too. But that would not matter.           He dressed and had a bite to eat. Then entered the water again.      Maybe he had the wrong crack, or it had changed in the decades the last of the four had come here. The water was still cold. He shook his head. He would go. At least his clothes had been cleaned a little. If this was a museum of Creation better to wear clean clothes. He thought.      As he walked the water came up to his stomach. He would have to take off his backpack and carry it higher. His flashlights would be safe. Two windup ones, six small ones and three medium ones, and five emergency candles with wax covered wood matches. That included one extra set of batteries for each, except the windup lights of course. They were all LED lights, supposedly lasting longer while producing more light.    Maybe this crack would finally close with him inside, or a wild animal had moved in. With this water? He didn’t think so. Joshua shook his head again. He had come all this way so he would continue. He needed something in his life.    When he entered the crack he thought, Hopefully a beach would show up soon, though.    *********************    Hours later he came back out, shock on his face. The water still felt cold, but it didn’t slow the sweat on his face and hair-not from the heat even though places inside had been hot, and not from fear-he could still fear the fear he had felt in certain sections. The heat had dried his clothes, but then he was amazed-and shook. Lava, crystals filled with what appeared to be images of the earth at various stages.      Earth crushing anger too-large rocks split, and broken down to dust. Yet that hadn’t happened-something else had taken place instead, and he had seen a whole lot more.      Damn, no pictures, he hadn’t even thought about taking any.      He looked around and blinked in the sunlight. He better set up camp. No dinner tonight, he didn’t feel like eating after that.      The possibility existed that it was all a natural occurrence, especially the ones that looked like the early stages of the Earth. Lava had been there when the crystals formed after all, but, he shook his head, that would have to be at least half a dozen large coincidences. But why here? It would seem Africa or the Middle East would be a better location. Then again, maybe they each did have one. Possibly all continents, including Antartica, had one. Just because he had never heard of one, didn’t mean they didn’t. It was chance that he had found this one.       But that rose another question. If made then, why? And speaking of why. Why wasn’t the Earth destroyed at that last stage? He looked around, and nodded when a memory from years ago came to the forefront of his mind. He had the answers at home. One Native American and the other guy had mentioned that. He would go home, read and find out the answer to that perplexing question.        He cleaned up his mess,filled his two large and two small canteens, even though it meant pouring out some older water. He started down that steep slope. He hoped that bear wasn’t around. Maybe he should take rocks with him. He could throw fairly well. A couple of small rocks in the bear’s mouth might distract it enough for him to get away. It would could chew them to pieces and spit them out-hmm,could bears spit? And if it swallowed the tiny pieces they probably would not do it any real harm-like bones it ate.     If need be maybe a fist size rock in an eye. He would hate to blind it and it would make it even angrier, but again it might distract it enough for him to get away.      It took him a little less time, only seven days, to get back to signs of civilization. That still left him another four days to get back to his car. No bear this time. However he did see the beaver.      He had to walk by the lake the beaver’s dam had made. A trail showed that others had come and gone this way. Maybe they had been deer and other smaller animals, though.     Just about the same time he thought about refilling on canteen, since he had seen no sign of the beaver. He thought the water looked as clear and clean as the water by the crack, so it would be as good.      It popped out of the water. He pulled a rock out of his pocket and then walked outward away from the lake, and through some trees that grew close to the edge. He could smell sap and freshly cut wood. Or probably freshly chewed wood. The ground angled here, so he had to almost walk sideways for a minute or two. But he came back near the lake. The beaver growled and hissed at him. He threw the rock at it, but not to hit it. It landed in front of it and bounced toward the animal. It just looked at it and started his way. He hurried along and slid passed the dam. It stopped when it came to the dam.     This time he thought it looked like it just wanted to warn him away. Last time he thought it wanted to attack. Joshua continued on, back on level ground. When he approached where he thought he had left the bear behind, he took out one of those pouches. It may or may not work as advertised but he would try it. However no sign of the bear. Maybe it was gone to another part of its hunting grounds. The area he had thought about going to. It would have taken him three more days but avoiding the bear would be worth it. Now, though, here was where there was no bear. He hurried through where he had seen it before. Once clear-or so he hoped-of its area. He paused. What would scare a bear? A larger bear? A Bigfoot? Not a lot but there had been sightings here over the years. They were supposedly larger and stronger looking than even a bear. But than again maybe it was a skunk. Even a grizzly would not enjoy being spayed by one. However they must get eaten too, or there would be tons of them around. He shrugged with no answer.      That night, however, something sniffed around his camp. Something small.  A skunk? A raccoon? They can be thieves, but he refrained from turning on his light, in case it was a skunk. The glow from the fire didn’t show him anything. The next day, he found that nothing had been disturbed. No teeth marks on his packs , etc. Of course he slept with one of them under his head but still.       A day after he ran out of his food he saw the small group of cabins that mean he was near people again. The place had a small restaurant so he could buy a meal. He double checked to make sure he still had his wallet. It had gotten wet twice. Not so much the second time but still dollar bills were winkled-yet still spendable and his cards looked in good shape.     He looked back the way he had come. There that mountain range there with the rock side. It looked like the right one. He took three pictures of it and one of the cabins. He still needed to walk to his car but he was no hurry.     The book still waited for him at home, but because of previous readings and what other people had said about it, he had an idea of what saved the Earth and the people on it.     He looked around, felt his mind, his spirit, his mind set-they all had been correct he had changed, but maybe not in the way he had hoped. Still, he smiled, not bad.     Now, he started down toward the cabins, for lunch or early dinner, whatever time it might be.

end

Picture link:pic

Writing update June '18

Okay writing update. Doing something different.

Published "The Courier" which is still on sale-at least the E-books are. I keep saying it but it's true-it's an exciting tale of action and adventure about a very young woman Courier. No one has stated anything different about my take on it anyway.

Have a story ready for a certain contest, and I will be sending out stories next week. Not sure how much I will be doing Saturday-family issues happening then.

This next is the different. I have five Western stories ready to publish. They are all about a Certain US Marshall Dobson. A bit of 10,000 words total. And I will be doing the cover. I don't want to spend much-if any for this cover, with only five stories under it.

I may be doing a second set of Western stories soon but they will all be about different people. Well two will be linked. That one might have seven stories.

And I will be getting an apology of 22 to 25 stories ready. They are all written but not all revise. They cover a wide spectrum of genre.

And sometime soon, a set of five general fiction I am calling foibles.

I am working on three novels; "Djinn" "Insane" and not sure of the title of the third.

Oh yes, of course. I have looked for a beta or three for two novels for so long I have forgotten about them. Supposedly five or so people said they would beta read one or both of them but they never told me how to get the manuscripts to them. So do I pay or just give up on that?

Done a bunch of short stories for free. They are in "My Stories Inspired by Pictures" collection and some mini stories are around Charlie Hoover's geekscapes I have two or three more stories for my Collection which makes it around 20 maybe 24 stories in there.

Yay! Birthday sale on my E-books

Friday is my birthday so I am having a Birthday sale on all of my E-books. These are good reads, so they make good gifts even for yourself. $3.99, $2.99 and a set of Fantasy stories for $.99.
Sorry only e-books even though Amazon, on their own, has placed the anthology I have a story in for less than half price. Great stories in there and worthy reads, mine is the fourth best story in the Strange New Worlds Ten.
They are at Barnes and noble online, Amazon, kobo and other places. Here is the link to my Amazon page since most of you seem to like Amazon best. I must say though that due to a glitch I am not sure what price Above My Pay Grade X2 will be selling for on Barnes and Noble online. But the rest of the E- books should be on sale there.
https://www.amazon.com/L.-E.-Doggett/e/B01C58R1II/ref=dp_byline_cont_book_1The sale goes on for until July 7th, when it ends.
Happy reading and help my to celebrate my birthday with a good price on great reading.