Can you, in less than five words describe your story?
Dark fantasy, shapeshifters, dragons, elves
What inspired you to write it?
Fisherpriest came out of a scene in another story, Shadow Trap, where the heroes of that tale cross paths with the heroes of this one. I wanted to explore a bit of Linna’s past, and see where she went after they all fled the temple in Faerclay. It’s a tale of fantasy and adventure, with a touch of romance, but it’s also a tale with some very dark elements that were difficult to write.
And here's the snippet!
This excerpt is taken from an encounter with a group racially puritanical White Mountain tribeselves, who object to the protection Linna and Tarquin have received from the elven nation with whom they need to make a treaty. Linna has gone swimming with the women and surfaced to find the White Mountains on the riverbank.
I
half-turned until I could see where Tarquin stood, without losing my own view
of the Silver Mountain tribesman. My prince carried a fully-drawn forester’s
bow in his hands, and he was not alone. Half a dozen of Alandor’s people stood
by him, their bows also fully drawn.
It
looked, judging from the ill-concealed smirk on Remahl’s face, and the edge of
a smile Alandor wore, that the insult of Tarquin speaking directly to the
tribeselves had been planned in advance.
Alandor
stepped forward before Golden Eyes could reply.
“You
threaten my scouts and a guest of my camp. That is most undiplomatic. Your
chief shall hear of it.”
There
was a stirring at the rear of the assembled Silver Mountains. They parted to
reveal another of their number.
“His
chief already knows,” the chieftain said, quietly releasing the pull on his
bow.
Alandor
reddened, the smile falling away as anger took its place.
“You
would condone this?” he snapped. “You violate the treaty!”
“The
treaty remains unbroken; your people are intact as are your guests.” The
chieftain spat the last word, snarling it, turning it into a curse, the name of
a disease he hated to speak.
“Nevertheless,
you threatened them.”
“The
threat came from a warrior whose lack of wisdom will be redressed.”
Golden
Eyes stiffened, the mask of scorn frozen on his face. Another of his number,
this one I thought of as Straw Hair because of his light-colored mane, laid a
covert hand on his knee and the pale blue of his eyes conveyed such sympathy
that I wondered what form of redress could be so bad.
Remahl’s
words from the evening before rose unbidden to my mind ‘You are wiser to choose
the thargramorg and beg them for the mercy of captivity in their hands.’
Golden
Eyes query rose above my thoughts.
“My
lord,” he began, addressing his chief, “I was not aware that it was wrong to
taunt the keepers of filthy beasts.”
“Only
when we wish to treat with them,” his chieftain answered, and I felt Katya’s
fingers break skin at the softly spoken savagery in his voice.
Golden
Eyes bowed his head and the chieftain returned his attention to Alandor.
“There
will be concessions demanded in the treaty talks to repay our insult,” he said.
“The
queen’s representative will arrive within the hour,” Alandor told him. “Your
people will be ready to receive her. And you are not the only ones who will be
seeking concessions for this insult.”
“As
you say,” the chieftain replied, then he barked an order that sounded like a
spitting growl and the tribeselves melted back into the scrub and rocks that
lined the river’s edge.
When
they had gone, a pair of Alandor’s scouts crossed the river on a footbridge of
branches. Tarquin eased his bow to half tension until they returned.
“Clear?”
Alandor asked.
The
scouts nodded. “All is clear, my lord. They returned to camp.”
“We
will be one short at the fire tonight,” the other added. “The Silver Mountains
are not kind to those who cause them embarrassment.”
Alandor
nodded. Katya released her grip on my shoulder and led the way to the bank.
“We
had almost finished bathing, my lord,” she said. “We did not mean to be so
long.”
“Your
apology is unnecessary, Lady Katya,” Alandor replied. “Your duties were
discharged honorably and with greater courage than I should have asked. Remahl
will see to their safety now.”
The
bushes rustled and shook, and another of Alandor’s scouts appeared. He carried
two small packs.
“I
have what you asked, my lord,” he said.
“Leave
them here,” Alandor ordered, then turned to Katya. “My lady, we are deploying
in Rondel Nine. I will need your people as soon as they are dressed. Kyroneth
has rations by the central fire. Gather them before you go.”
The
scouts were moving now. I followed them out of the water, separating my hair
into three thick strands and braiding it as I reached the bank.
Tarquin
had eased the pull on the bow, until only the tension of being strung was left.
He made to hand it back to Alandor, but the elf captain shook his head.
“Keep
it,” he said, “in memory of Al A’Harimmal. Use it with honor.”
We
were alone, except for Remahl.
Alandor
turned to him as I brushed the front of my tunic smooth and reached for my
boots.
“All
speed, my cousin,” he said, “and may you find rest in safety.”
“I
will guide them with swiftness and lay my trust in the queen,” Remahl replied.
“More than that I cannot ask.”
“Lay
your trust in the gods, Remahl,” Alandor admonished, “for I fear the queen will
not be able to stay their hand in this matter. If the thargramorg are rising we
must make an alliance with the Silver Mountains, no matter how high we think
the price.”
“The
gods it shall be,” Remahl replied, “and may happiness rest between the houses
Grevonel and Serinow.”
Alandor
blushed. “I have not asked the lady, Remahl. How can I know if your wishes are
not premature?”
Remahl
smiled then.
“Trust
me, my lord cousin. My wishes are never premature. I will send a gift, even if
I cannot attend.”
Tarquin
handed me a pack as I stood from lacing my boots. My club followed, and our
fingers touched as I took the smooth wood from his hand. The contact made me
smile and I lost the thread of conversation that passed between Remahl and
Alandor as Tarquin pulled me close.
“I
am so glad you’re safe,” he murmured, his breath warm in my hair. “I don’t know
what I would have done.”
I
hugged him in return, not daring to look into his face and see the shadow of a
feared pain in his eyes.
C.M. Simpson Blog: http://www.cmsimpson.blogspot.com/
C.M. Simpson
Publishing Blog: http://www.cmsimpsonpublishing.blogspot.com/
Buy links!
AmazonLargePrint: http://www.amazon.com/Fisherpriest-Large-Print-C-Simpson/dp/1480108332/
CreateSpacePrint: https://www.createspace.com/4026639
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DriveThruFiction: http://www.drivethrufiction.com/product/107037/Fisherpriest
Thanks for sharing C,!
ReplyDeleteGreat excerpt, C.M. Thanks for sharing it with us.
ReplyDelete