The new edits are finally uploaded to Amazon so the second edition of “Quest for the Red Sapphire” is live and ready to download or buy in print. It was a big effort to get there but now it’s done. Soon I will start the edits for “Sapphire Crucible” once they come back from the editor. For today’s blog I want to talk about Easter candy. Growing up in a medium to large family we never had much money. When it came to buying Easter candy that meant you received a few things and that was it. We were ok with that even if our friends hauled in lots more. Every year I would find my basket and the chocolate bunny waiting for me had no ears. They hadn’t broken off in the box and fallen down. It simply had none. So I asked my older brother why every other bunny had ears and mine didn’t. He told me, “You have a deaf bunny. He’s special.” Suddenly the bunny seemed real and I felt so badly for it. Then I would remember that it was, after all, chocolate and was meant to be eaten. So I would eventually get over my sorrow and eat it. Still, it bothered me that I didn’t get that extra piece of chocolate everyone else did. So one year on the night before Easter I went to my mother and asked, “Do you think we could leave the Easter Bunny a note and ask him to give me a normal bunny this year instead of a deaf one? I like them and all but I’d really like a whole bunny just once.” She was shocked and asked me to elaborate. After I did she was furious and stormed up to my brother’s room. After yelling I could hear through the floor, my brother came downstairs in a foul disposition and confessed that he had been getting up early for years and finding my basket. He would eat some of the candy out of it and eat the ears off my bunny. As punishment the next morning he had to give me his whole chocolate bunny. I went shopping as my family’s Easter Bunny today to buy candy to fill the baskets. (I never use the fake grass. It ends up everywhere.) Maybe I overcompensate because we had little in our baskets but for 6 of us it cost $100. Maybe it’s just me but that seems like a lot for candy. Prices have skyrocketed. The bags are getting smaller as well. Even the bunnies are shrinking. I must not be the only person overbuying because I’ll go in the store the day before the holiday and nearly everything is sold out. It makes me sick to think of spending that much on candy. Then every year there is someone in the family unhappy with the choices in their basket. Maybe they wanted caramel or not Snickers or bigger rabbits. It’s always something. Then I say that next year they’ll get nothing. We all know that’s not true. I like to see that excited look on their faces. It’s worth a little nitpicking.
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When he reached the top level, he headed for the main hallway. At its end were the shattered remains of his once majestic doors. He marched down the hall as if nothing was different and entered the chamber. His Commanders were still present and the members of court managed to stand the benches upright, though in no particular fashion.
Mandrean stormed into the room and threw himself upon his throne. Then he pulled up one leg onto the seat. He braced his elbow against his knee and used the fist on the same hand to hold his pouting face. As more of his party entered, they observed the Emperor and sat quietly. “How could this happen?” Mandrean asked rhetorically. “We are the greatest empire in the world and some pathetic half-breed nearly kills me, defaces my palace, frees my prisoner and scorches most of the capital. I curse that Linvin Grithinshield. He will pay for this. I will make him suffer more than any man has. He will be hunted to the ends of the world. In the end, he will die.” There was pure silence in the room after Mandrean spoke. He looked at his court with disdain. “None of you did anything to prevent this,” Mandrean continued to vent. “How many times could we have killed him? Now he is gone. Well, if he thought the trip here was hazardous, he will find the journey home deadly. Pawns.” The young boys with the numbered shirts who’d represented Divisions jumped to their feet and ran with haste to their positions on the map. Mandrean took to his feet and folded his hands behind his back. Then he paced back and forth looking southward on the map. “Generals. How will he plan his escape?” General Maxion was the first to speak. “He is running blind. It is a miracle Grithinshield has survived to this point. He will easily be chased down by a score of Imperial Guards.” Donorus quickly spoke in reaction. “You really are a fool, aren’t you? Did you not listen to Grithinshield’s credentials? His acts were not random. He planned his escape and waited for the right moment to act. To accomplish one of the acts from today could be called luck, but to do all he did to us was planning. He is not running blindly as you stated. “Those Imperial Guards you want to chase him are busy trying to keep our own citizens from looting the city during the chaos. Even if they were not doing so he would wipe them away like chalk on a board. He has a plan. From the sound of his record, he always has a plan. He wants to get home to Sartan. He will head south. All the forces in the Southern Province should be sent to crush him immediately.” Tecious entered the fray with cane in hand. “That is an easy thing for you to say. Only a small number of your forces would be involved. You heard me earlier when I said my divisions were not battle ready. Even if they were, mobilizing them would take time. Placing the burden on my trainees is no way to resolve this situation.” “My men would be at risk also,” Donorus reminded. “The one route he knows to go home is at the mouth of the river where my men are stationed.” “He nearly escaped them beforehand,” snapped Tecious. “I doubt that with his new power he would have any trouble displacing your men.” “At least my troops are in fighting condition,” baited Donorus. “It sounds like you cannot even train your own divisions anymore without them dying of old age first.” “I know your men are well trained,” barked Tecious. “I trained them. Just like I have trained every division in this army. You simply are unwilling to sacrifice any of your men. You would rather throw away two unprepared divisions than risk your precious, if undeserved reputation.” “I still lead my men from the front lines,” Donorus proclaimed as he looked at Tecious’s cane. “When was the last time you led anyone in battle? You just sit back and let the rest of us protect you. A Great General, indeed.” Maxion sided with Donorus in the argument and attacked Tecious. “You are a coward if you think your soldiers are not ready. Perhaps you simply do not want it exposed how incapable you have become.” “Stay out of this,” Tecious yelled at Maxion as he shoved him back. “With Sartan being to the south, your forces are unaffected by this emergency. So stick to what you do best. Nothing.” “Enough,” yelled Mandrean. “I am in the mood to kill someone. If Grithinshield is not to be had, I am inclined to settle for you gentlemen. Now shut your mouths while I think.” Linvin stumbled through the wood as daylight arrived to show him the way. With every step, Linvin knew he was a little bit closer to being able to put the heavy carcass down. The thought made the weight bearable for a time. It was not long, however, before those steps made the weight greater and his strength fade.
When it seemed Linvin could go no further, he heard the rippling of the wind on the water of the spring ahead. His heart was lifted as he summoned all his strength and forced his legs to finish the march. When the clearing came into view, Linvin stopped and did not move. The boar fell to the ground as though Linvin simply forgot it was there. His eyes beheld a sight he could never have even imagined. Anvar, Bander and Rander were surrounded by goblins. Anvar lay face down on the ground alongside four goblins he presumably had killed before being overrun. The twins were bound like steers and were propped against the login the camp. From time to time a goblin, appearing to be their leader, would prod one of his captives with the blunt end of a spear and yell at them. Linvin was too far to understand what was said. He guessed that either Bander and Rander did not speak or else their answer was not acceptable, because the Leader struck them most severely moments later. As the interrogation continued, Linvin climbed a tree to stay out of view. From his vantage point, he peered through the leaves to see the clearing. He took stock of the situation. The goblins were not of the same variety as the Marsh Goblins he had fought years before. Their skin was closer to the color of mud than the sage-green complexions he had seen in Valia. A mark on their foreheads clearly identified them as belonging to the Cangon Clan from the Goblin Nations to the far northwest. Known to be primitive, even by goblin standards, they nevertheless outnumbered all the other clans combined. Their stature, too, was different than their southern brethren. Cangons were more squat and rounded. Though similar in height, the Cangons far outweighed the others. With short arms and legs, they were known to prefer spears to using swords. The band making camp before Linvin, however, bore both weapons as well as custom-fit leather armor to handle their girth. In all, Linvin counted twenty goblins still alive. Several stood guard in a perimeter while the others lit fires in hearths they looked accustomed to using. Linvin fixed his gaze on Anvar and hoped to see any sign of life. His uncle did not stir. The distance was too great to be able to tell if he was breathing. Linvin momentarily despaired. What have I done? he thought to himself. I have led my only remaining family to their deaths. They trusted me to lead them and I led them into peril. What was I thinking? This was the only water around and I did not even consider that it might attract others here as well? I am a fool, but the fool is not the one paying for the lapse in judgment; they are! I should be down there with my kin. His self-pity was short-lived. He knew he must act. Every moment, the morning light grew brighter and his chance of being discovered increased. Bander and Rander still appeared to be alive, for the time being at least.As Linvin watched them suffering, a great rage brewed within him. He clenched his fists and gnashed his teeth. I will annihilate those miserable slugs! Not one shall escape my wrath,but I must keep my composure. It is time to act. My publisher, Solstice Publishing has put out a book trailer of new (and 2nd edition) books they have recently put out. Mine is the last one shown. That is actually just fine with me as I believe in the law of recentsy. In other words, you remember what you last saw or heard best. Here is the link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ExiZQQrD-9w The new edits should be up any time now and then I will be having a special sale. Enjoy this until then.
The new edits to “Quest for the Red Sapphire” should be posted to Amazon within the next week. I will keep you posted. A new editor has been assigned to “Sapphire Crucible.” We will start work on that next week as well. Work on book 4 continues as time allows. But the real reason for this blog is that my daughter has just about broken me on the puppy situation. I have been saying flat out “No” to a puppy for over two years now but I’m finally starting to crack. It all started when my wife started saying I should look into the cost of a fence for the backyard and that she would like one. I knew right there she had given in but I would remain strong. Now enter my youngest daughter who is 13. She is 40% adorable, 40% salesman and 20% devious. When you add that up I think I have shown great determination by holding out this long. She wanted to just go look at puppies. I came along to say no to any request. The store policy allowed us to play with a total of 3 puppies. The first one was a labradoodle. It was cute but frisky. My wife and daughter have allergies to some dogs and they had a little trouble with that one. I played the role of dream-crusher and ordered the staff to take the puppy away and bring another. The next one my family picked was maybe a terrier but to me it looked like something you sweep dust off the floors with. It was small. It was really small. You could step on it in the middle of the night and kill it by accident. While it liked being held, I always say the dog picks its owner. Back to the display case with her. Then I was asked to choose and I saw what my heart desired. It was a big, 9 week-old golden retriever. I let the family hold the gentle giant first to see how their allergies were. Then they offered her to me. I held the dog and she was the spitting image of my golden I bought growing up. She licked my hand and rubbed noses with me. I was in love. Then I checked on my wife and daughter. They were both breaking out in hives and my wife’s nose was running. I suddenly remembered having to give up my dog to my mom when I got married because of the allergy issue. There was no way I could have her; fence or no fence. Sadly I handed her back to the clerk. For some reason, the only dog my wife and daughter don’t problems with is a pure bred beagle. I don’t know why that’s the case but it is. So today I have to call about fences. Once that happens I fear it is just a matter of time before I crack and we have a dog. I love dogs. They’re just a lot of work.
Linvin ducked low and ran with speed and stealth. His goal was to reach the place where the search parties would join before they arrived. He made good time and reached his goal just ahead of the torches. Then he laid down flat on the ground close to the plants and covered himself with dried leaves from the stalks. Next he had to calm his breathing. It was a tactic he’d been taught as a scout during his youth in Valia. By the time the searchers came together, Linvin was camouflaged and silent.
A bright light shined over him and he thought for a moment he’d been discovered. Through his disguise he saw a Mandrean Goblin Soldier walk so close he nearly stepped on Linvin’s head. The soldier, however, had his eyes to the front where the others were gathering and paid no attention to the pile on leaves at his feet. Several rows over all the soldiers were coming together and trampling down a grand area of corn to make room for their numbers. More and more goblins arrived until Linvin could no longer keep count. When their number had all gathered in a circle, one called out. “Has anyone found anything?” A chorus of voices began to clamor in response. Though it was difficult for Linvin to pick out any particular voice he could hear all the answers were in the negative. After a few moments the first voice yelled, “Silence. We have been following some fresh tacks headed south. They could be the escaped prisoners we seek or they could be some farmers out trying to protect their corn from animals feeding overnight. Regardless, that is our best lead right now. So that is the path we will follow.” “This is madness,” one of the goblins called to him. “Even if the tracks are from them, they could be right next to us and we would never see them. We should go back to the barracks and try fresh in the morning.” “Perhaps that is how you do things in your Company,” the first voice said. “In mine, we follow the trail until it goes cold.” An argument ensued and the bickering spread to all the goblins. Linvin’s opportunity had arrived. He waited for the goblins to begin shoving one another and then made his move. Emerging from his pile of leaves, Linvin crouched and watched the action not more than five rows away. He spied a window through the rows where he had a clear view of the action. Then he looked to the right and found another. Removing a stone from his pocket, he took great care in aiming. He flicked the rock through the air with a snap from his wrist. It passed through the corn and hit a goblin on his fingers holding a torch. The goblin shouted in pain and dropped the flaming stick. His cry went unnoticed among those fighting around his position. When the flame contacted the dry stalks, however, the fuel combusted quickly and began to spread. Linvin wasted no time picking a target on the other side and again struck the hand holding the torch. As before, the flame hit the ground and ignited the overlapping kindling. With his work done, Linvin stayed low and ran for the hedgerow. He did not look back until he reached cover. When he finally turned to view his handiwork, he smiled with satisfaction. The fire had become substantial before the mass of soldiers realized they had fires on both sides that were spreading. With the flames leaping from one row to the next it was impossible for the goblins to try to contain. They broke ranks in terror and ran in every direction. Some had unknowingly caught fire and were spreading it across the field as they ran. “Glorious.” Anvar commented. “They do not even know what happened,” Linvin said as he took to his saddle. “Now is our moment. Burst onto the road and ride east with all the speed these horses have left.” “Won’t the goblins see us?” Bander asked. Linvin took his place in the lead and answered. “No. When it is dark and you stare at a bright flame your vision becomes restricted for a short time. You lose the ability to see in the darkness. Make sure not to look at the blaze. While they run from the flames, we will ride invisibly out of danger. Now, go as fast as you can.” The party burst onto the road and galloped to the east. Though they were riding away from the fire, the light behind them continued to grow. Bander looked back and saw the entire field engulfed in flame. A great fireball leapt into the sky.” Linvin scolded him. “Do not look at it. We do not care about what is behind us. What matters is in front of us.” Bander looked ahead, but could see only blackness. “I can’t see anything.” he shouted. “I told you not to look at the flames.” Linvin yelled in frustration. “Rander, ride beside your brother and hold his reins. Anvar, do the same for Miri.” He didn’t know how long he slept but a grunting sound awakened him. His sleepy eyes opened to see two wild boars below him, digging in the ground for food. There was what he presumed to be a male and a female. Using their sharp tusks they foraged, unaware of Linvin’s presence.
What luck! Linvin thought with excitement. One of the thick beasts could feed his party for some time. Linvin then realized there was bad news as well. While he had been asleep, he had dropped his bow and arrow. They lay not far below him on the ground. He did not dare get down to retrieve them. Once the element of surprise was lost, his chances of slaying one of the beasts were next to none. Linvin lay forward on the branch and grabbed for his bow. It was still out of reach. Linvin did not want the opportunity to pass,so he took a risk. The bow was not that far out of his grip. He decided the best thing to do would be to lock his legs around the tree limb and hang down in order to retrieve his weapon. Crossing one foot firmly over the other, he straddled the branch and turned upside down. There was one simple flaw in Linvin’s hastily conceived plan. When his head went down, all the arrows in the quiver on his shoulder fell out onto the ground. They made a loud noise as they crashed down. The boars’ heads popped up from their digging and saw Linvin hanging upside down from the tree. The female turned and bolted for cover. The male reacted in a very territorial manner. He may have been protecting her or his area, but either way, hewas enraged. Snorting violently, he charged the intruder. Linvin was caught off guard. He had to act quickly. Grabbing the bow and an arrow from the ground,he tried to get a bead on the rushing boar. Linvin had never tried to shoot from such a position before but had no choice. Taking quick aim, he drew and loosed the arrow. Due to the odd angle, the arrow took an arc toward the ground. Luckily, the boar was close enough that the arrow hit him in the shoulder on its downward curve. For a moment, the beast staggered. Then fury took hold of him once more. Screeching wildly, he moved in on Linvin. With a swipe of his head,he knocked Linvin to the ground. Not wasting any time, he tore his tusks into Linvin’s chest. Linvin was being shoved around like a ball. His great mass was easily thrown by the stout foe. Every time Linvin tried to move out of the way, the boar seized hold of him again. After literally being thrown several paces, Linvin’s hand came to rest on a loose rock slightly larger thana grapefruit. When the boar came at him, Linvin smashed the rock down on its head. Again, the beast staggered. Taking the initiative, Linvin used both hands and cracked it on the skull again and again. Blood poured from the wound as Linvin continued to pound with all his might. At last, the pig moved no more. Its skull was crushed. Last night I took the family out for dinner and could not help but notice all the police out and about. Then I remembered it was St Patrick’s Day. I came home and checked out the Rival Gates Facebook page and Twitter and they were both lit up with commentary about the “holiday.” It made me curious. I had never looked into St Patrick’s history and seen if it had a connection with drinking. I read that he was British and taken captive by Irish pirates at a young age and used as a slave. During his enslavement he worked as a shepherd and converted to Christianity. He escaped 6 years later after hearing a call from God and found his way back home. Years later in the 5th century he became a cleric and returned to Ireland to spread the word of god. He eventually became a bishop in the land where he was once a captive. Never accepting payment or gifts for his acts he found Irish society unwilling to protect him and was even held as a prisoner for a short time. He died on March 17th, 492 A.D. In the 7th century he became known as the Patron Saint of Ireland. It’s an interesting story, to be sure, but there was nothing about green beer in there. I suppose like many of our holidays, it has become commercialized to the point where the original meaning is buried to an unidentifiable depth. Irish have not always had such an easy time in America and I am proud to say I am part Irish and part German. When people ask me what that means I tell them, “It means I can hold my beer and I don’t care what you think about it!” St. Patrick’s Day has become a day to celebrate the Irish in this country and I see no harm in that so long as people are responsible in the way they behave. Still, many of the Irish I have known were hard working, decent people. Why are they only thought of for drinking? My German side of the family drank just as much as my Irish side. I guess that’s a question to pose around Oktoberfest. In the end this is just an excuse to party. Who doesn’t love a good party? Mind you we were off the streets by 8:30. I just wish that somewhere in the revelry the actual saint who gave his name to this day could be remembered. He would seem to be a remarkable man, indeed.
Cell phones are one of the greatest inventions to come along since the air conditioner. It’s hard to imagine life without them. If the dog runs away and everyone goes out looking for her the one finding her can simply call everyone else home. In the old days, the dog would be at home asleep while people were still looking for her. Every day I see people shopping and they take pictures of what they want to buy and send them to their significant other. That person weighs in and the buying decision is made. Who here has gone to the grocery store and called home to see if there was anything else you needed? You can send your kids out in the neighborhood to play and then call them on their cell when it is time to come in for dinner. Those are the most basic uses. I know people who play games until the battery dies and then plug it in and play some more on their phones. They give directions. They tell us who sings a particular song. They text. They Twitter. They are a phone book and a yellow pages all in one. So what could be the harm of these phones? I can walk into my living room and no one even says “Hello” to me. They don’t look up from their phone screens. Then there is the price. I see commercial after commercial about how cheap it is to join a certain service but when I’d do the math, it would come out about the same price for my family. That’s where they get you; with family plans. And then you can’t break them anyway without a huge penalty. One company will pay the penalty for you but their service is high priced and poor quality. That’s another problem. I’ve known people who went on the plans with the cheaper companies but the service was poor and the coverage was inferior to say the least. They ended up switching back. After all, what good is a cheap cell phone if you can’t talk to anyone on it? Someone said to me the other day, “If I could go back in time I would buy shares of Verizon.” She has a point. You either pay more for better service or pay slightly less for poor service. Even if you go with the second route, however, you are still paying a lot of money for a cell phone. They used to be relatively inexpensive. Now they have data plans and renewal fees. And you have to have a case or it’s going to look terrible after a couple of drops, not to mention damaged. Then there’s insurance. You’re going to drop your phone. It’s going to happen. When it does it very well might break because these things are very touchy and temperamental. To buy a new one without a plan is around $500. That means you need insurance and that’s another addition to your bill. These phones are great. I can’t imagine life without them. But man, are they expensive. I don’t have the answer. Maybe one of you has a good story to tell.
Bander had been standing by Miri and happened to look behind them. “I never will understand farmers,” he said. “Here they have a beautiful day in which to work, and they decide not to harvest until after the sun sets.”
“Whatever are you talking about?” Anvar asked as he joined his nephew. “See,” Bander said as he pointed at the field. “Look at all those torches. It would have been much easier to work during the day.” Anvar was immediately alarmed and fetched Linvin. “We have a problem to our rear,” he told their leader. Linvin briskly walked to the edge of their cover and peered out at the field to the north. Though the sky had become completely dark, hundreds of torches were moving through the rows and lighting the field. They came from the north, east and west. The torches to the sides were spread apart at equal intervals. The ones to the north, however, were moving single file down the exact route Linvin’s party had traveled. Rander joined him. “What’s going on?” he asked. “Are they actually trying to harvest in the dark?” Linvin rubbed the region between his eyes in frustration. “Tell me Rander, do you never tier of being wrong? That is a search party closing in on us. The group to the north is following our trail. The others are methodically eliminating the possibility that we may be hiding just out of sight in the field.” “They are everywhere,” Rander said in a panicked voice. “We won’t outrun them on foot. We must take to horse.” “The beasts are done in after the day’s march,” Linvin said. “Though we could ride a short distance, if we tried to escape that way, those soldiers would be close enough to hear us and see us take flight.” “Then how should we proceed?” Anvar asked. Linvin thought for a moment as he watched the search pattern. Then he ran to the other side of the hedgerow and took note of the road running east and west. Returning to the others, his plan was set. “Anvar, have everyone in their saddle and ready to ride when I return.” “Return from where?” Anvar inquired. “Their teams will meet up in the middle of the field,” Linvin said. “I will go there to buy us time.” “I thought you wanted to avoid a fight?” Bander asked. “So I shall,” Linvin answered. He reached down on the ground and picked up two stones of the size used in a sling. “This is all I will need. Now wait for me. I shall not be long.” In a moment, he was gone. It was as though the night consumed him in an instant. Linvin ducked low and ran with speed and stealth. His goal was to reach the place where the search parties would join before they arrived. He made good time and reached his goal just ahead of the torches. Then he laid down flat on the ground close to the plants and covered himself with dried leaves from the stalks. Next he had to calm his breathing. It was a tactic he’d been taught as a scout during his youth in Valia. By the time the searchers came together, Linvin was camouflaged and silent. |
AuthorFantasy fiction is my passion. This series embodies my love for a good story and action. You will find it to be many things, but not boring! Read what you love and love what you read... Archives
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