He wiped his hands and lit a lamp. With the room illuminated,
he saw what was left of the would-be assassin. Five’s body was
completely smashed. The blood-soaked clothes revealed nothing of
value. In the satchel Linvin found the rope and hook, a money
purse and a leather folder.
He opened the folder first. There were many written pages. He
sat down with his pipe and read. It was a journal. The writings
chronicled his movements since his arrival in Missandor.
Five had been careful not to make any note referring to his
employer in the journal. Indeed, it seemed to Linvin that the
purpose of the notes was to have them read by the employer after
the assassination. It was a briefing on how the plan was carried
out.
According to the entries, Five had come to Missandor the
previous day. He spied on Linvin and recorded his movements.
Five even wore a disguise and shopped the GTC while Linvin was
working. He did not strike there because of the number of
witnesses and what he called a low probability of success.
The assassin did not stay at an inn because he wanted to be sure
he did not leave a trace of his presence. He chose the beggar
disguise because it enabled him to survey Linvin’s tree from close
range and watch his every move.
Linvin sat the journal down and gnawed on his pipe. He puffed
a few times before returning the writings to the bag and retrieving
the money purse. It was full of gold. Upon examining the coins, he
was disappointed to see that they bore no markings of any kind.
Though coinage was minted in universal denominations
throughout the civilized world, each nation branded them with
their own emblem. Even if the markings were foreign, gold was
accepted worldwide as a form of payment.
The coins in that purse were specifically made without any
identification at all. Closer inspection showed that they had been
conditioned to look as though they were old so that no one would
inquire about their lack of marking.
Linvin knew such coins would be expensive to make and would
have to have been custom-crafted for Five. Great pains were taken
to ensure the person seeking Linvin’s head remained anonymous.
That person was obviously more concerned with Linvin’s death
than what it would cost.
Five was a professional assassin. He was not attempting murder
for the first time. It seemed to Linvin that he had killed before for
profit.
Linvin set the purse down and walked over to the body. At his
feet, he saw the crossbow. He retrieved it and examined it like a
merchant inspecting a possible purchase. Once again, he found no
revealing details.
So who wants me dead? he thought. Each of those killers was
connected. Their numbers were sequential, and they all carried
these. He tossed the bow into his closet. It came to rest in a pile of
similar crossbows. The great elf paced until he grew weary. There
was not enough information for him to reach a rational decision.
Who would want me dead this badly? he thought. A rival
company? No. They would not go to such extreme lengths. What
enemies do I have? The only people I know of who hate me that
badly would be the Mandreans. But I killed Lord Mandrean over
two years ago. What would a successor gain by killing me in this
way? Knowing the nature of the Mandreans I would think he
would be thankful that I made room on the throne for him. And
even if he sought to win support in the empire by hunting me down,
killing me quietly would not advance his goal.
It could be another nation trying to gain favor with the
Mandreans. That would open the door to just about everyone.
Or it might be someone I know nothing about. There is the
possibility that someone new has entered the mix. Perhaps they
seek the Red Sapphire for themselves? It would do them no good.
The stone only obeys me. For someone else to even touch the staff
would bring a swift demise. Still, no one would be aware of that. It
might seem that they could kill me and possess the gem. If that is
the case, I am dealing with fools. But this man did not play the
part of a fool and would have been too expensive to be hired by
one.

Linvin closed his eyes and concentrated. He thought silently, Can you hear me?
The deep resounding voice from earlier had taken a softer tone. I am here, Master. Any time you are in contact with me I hear your thoughts.
Why do I not hear yours? Linvin inquired.
You hear me now, the Red Sapphire answered. Remember, you are my Master. It is not my place to tell you what to do unless you veer from your mandate. The rest of the time I merely follow your commands.
So you did not have a problem with the theft that I just committed? Linvin thought with surprise.
You were in a life and death situation with Miri. Anyone seeing you would have attacked you as an enemy. To take from one’s enemy to save a life is no crime. Had you stolen for material gain, I would have taken offense. You took only what was needed. I even helped you. It was I who implanted the idea in your mind to use my power to open the lock. I would not have done so if I thought your intentions to be unworthy.
I recall no message from you, Linvin thought. The idea just came into my mind.
Yes, Master, the Red Sapphire noted. It was I who gave you the idea. I knew you wanted to enter the building unnoticed and so I implanted the concept.
Then you can control my mind? Linvin asked in distress.
Not at all, Master. I can only give suggestions. Remember, I serve you. Once you have learned the full breadth of your power, you will need no advice from me.” Well then, Linvin thought. Tell me everything about you and how to use your power.
The expanse of knowledge you will receive may be too much for you to comprehend at one time. For that reason I will tell you what you need to know for now. I see from reading your mind that you have bits and pieces of history, which do not all fit into place. Let me start there.
What your Uncle said was true about the Maker giving too much magic to too few people. The world fell into chaos in its infancy. It was then the Maker crafted the Prism of the Cosmos. He used it to disperse magic into its various colors and among a variety of people. In order to prevent any one magician from becoming too powerful he made his or her bodies the channeling device for magic. That power we call magic is in nature all around us. To harness that power a magician must channel it through his body and release it from his hands. Doing so is very taxing of frail humanoid bodies. Thus, the more power the magician channels, the more fatigued he or she becomes. The limits of the magician’s mortality are the limits of their power. It is also the reason a magician with his hands bound is powerless. They cannot disperse the magic they channel without free use of their hands.

Even at their distance from the battle, Linvin and Fardar could hear Sculla yell, “Advance.”  Before the Goblins could fill the gaps in their lines, the Valian infantry marched steadily forward.  Goblins hurried to fill the breaks in their line, but it was too late.  Once Sculla’s men were past the pike-heads, they had a clear run at their enemy.  There was no room for the goblins to maneuver their long spears.  With their adversary in their faces, the goblins dropped their pikes and drew their close-quarter weapons.
“Wall!” cried Sculla upon noticing the change.  His troops interlocked their full-length shields, reforming the shield wall.
The Valians maintained their formation and stopped their advance once the pikes were discarded.  They were sure where to move from their current position.  Their enemy crashed upon the shield wall with the ferocity of an ocean wave against a rocky coast.
The goblins wielded a vast array of weapons.  With everything from sickle swords to clubs, they assaulted the wall.  With all their might, they struck at the Valians.  Yet, for all their blows, not one penetrated the defense.
Seizing the initiative, Sculla’s men struck from behind their great shields with short stabbing swords.  Though the blade’s range was limited, it could be thrust with great power through or underneath most armor.  The weapon also weighed enough to bludgeon an opponent when called upon.  It was brutally effective when used properly and feared by the goblins above all else.
The goblins pressed the advance from the rear, but there was nowhere to go against the wall.  So dense were their lines that it was nearly impossible for the Valians to miss.  Their upward slashes found their targets again and again.  Goblin loses began to mount.  Still they pressed the attack.
“Why do they rush headlong toward death?” Fardar asked.
“Goblins normally outnumber their opponents.  It is a simple strategy,” Linvin explained.  “They throw themselves at you until they wear down your defenses.  It is crude but can be highly effective if you cannot counter it.”
“It’s suicide,” Fardar surmised.
“No,” corrected Linvin, “It is a measured cost to achieve victory.  You almost have to admire their devotion to duty.  Nevertheless, we must persevere.”
“How?” asked Fardar “Sculla’s line cannot hold indefinitely.  Those men will tire.”
“We have trained for this, Lord Fardar.  Observe the line closely.”  Fardar looked through the spectacle at the point of conflict.  “I see the two sides fighting.”
“Keep watching,” Linvin said.
To Fardar’s amazement, the centurion directly behind the one at the front line rotated to the conflict, sending the exhausted centurion to the back of the rank.  Instantly a fresh warrior was in the fray.  Not more than a dozen sword strokes later, he moved to the rear and was replaced immediately.  With ranks seven men deep, they constantly kept well-rested troops on the line.
Moment by moment, goblins’ blood spilled while drawing precious little from their adversary.  Through it all, the heavy Valian infantry stood their ground, despite now being fully visible with the disappearance of the fog.

Well, the madness is almost over for another year.  The magical day is nearly upon us.  If you are struggling to find those last minute gifts consider a Kindle book like “Quest for the Red Sapphire.”  It is relatively inexpensive and easy to buy on Amazon and you don’t have to wait for shipping.  A book can be a wonderful gift as it carries the reader away from their everyday life into someplace new where you don’t have to worry about bills or screaming kids or jobs.  This world is created in your mind and will carry you for a while.  Such transport at such a low price is a bargain any day.  This first book in the series will carry the reader to the world of Lavacia where danger waits around every bend for our hero, Linvin Grithinshield.  He must seek out the powerful Red Sapphire and find it before the people who murdered his parents do.  Guided by his wise Uncle Anvar and distracted by his annoying cousins Bander and Rander Linvin must overcome the odds stacked against him if he has any hope of winning the race.  You can buy it here: http://amzn.to/1npYd0S   Merry Christmas

Lord Mandrean walked hurriedly down the illustrious halls of
Marinhalk. Four soldiers of his imperial guard marched in tow.
Though the emperor’s mind focused on the health of General
Gramlick, he could not help but notice the flamboyant decorative
uniform of one of his guards. Falling back into the middle of the
group he sneered and commented. “It has been nearly two weeks
since I gave you the title of Commander of the imperial guard,
Acreas. Do you not think it is time to return to your normal
uniform?”
Commander Acreas was in front of his master but could display
his fiendish grin without fear of retribution. “This is a dream I
have worked hard to fulfill. In only two years as a member of the
guard, I have risen to become its leader. While Your Eminence
was the one who gave me my insignia, it was only after I had
defeated all challengers in the jousting tournament. This rank was
earned. I should think you would be pleased. Clearly my superior
breeding has produced a finely honed weapon in your arsenal.”
Mandrean begrudged every word knowing that Acreas was his
illegitimate son through Betrimpia, his first of over one-hundred
concubines. Everyone knew the lineage to be true. The emperor
simply would not acknowledge the boy’s birthright publicly for his
own reasons. “I care nothing for your ‘breeding’.” Mandrean
fibbed. “Your mother is the most annoying, bull-headed woman I
have ever known. Since you were old enough to walk, you have
had the most prized tutors and instructors in the empire.
Considering nearly all of the senior guardsmen were lost in
Trader’s Alley, it would have been stunning if you had not won the
contest for leadership.
“I still recall the gloating expression on your mother’s face
when you were given this command. She had the cold, wicked
glare of someone who had won a bet and was going to let her
money ride. To an emperor with a new commander of the guard,
that was a worrisome look. The guard’s main purpose, after all, is
to protect me against all others. Is this so with you and your men?”
Acreas could see the distrust in the emperor’s face as he
glanced back. The entire situation was a game to the youngest man
ever to be commander of the guard. He viewed his father with
contempt and hatred. Acreas had no delusions that the man he
served was anywhere close to his intellectual equal. Thus, the
game continued.
“You have sent me to every battle since I joined the guard, and
the men trust me. They have sworn to follow my commands. In the
same way I have sworn to follow your orders, My Emperor.”
Acreas nodded his head with the statement.
Mandrean’s temper raged as he spun his commander around by
the shoulder and held the Blue Sapphire before his eyes. “Do not
toy with me, Child. I could destroy you with a single movement.
There is a voice in my head saying that would be wise. So test my
patience no further. Is everyone in the guard sworn to obey and
protect me?”
Acreas knew his father’s temper and unpredictability and
decided to end the game for now. He bowed in a humble manner
and gestured to the other guards to follow suit. “Fear not, My lord.
We have all sworn to live and die by your word.”
Mandrean’s nostrils flared as his anger continued to quell.
“Before we reconvene in the throne room, I want you in your
normal uniform, commander. Is that clear?”
“Perfectly,” Acreas answered. They resumed their journey
down the hall.
The men turned down a lavish corridor where his generals were
quartered and went to its end. Two men were coming out of the
last door in the hall. Mandrean recognized them as his personal
physician and Lord Gramlick’s physician.

I’ve been editing a story for a friend and decided it was a good time to stop and write something.  Before this my time was consumed with editing my fourth book.  It is nearly ready to go to the publisher.  With all this editing it feels good to actually write something again.  Writing is my first love.  Editing and promoting are necessary but in the end you do all that so you can write some more.  There is a common saying, “Do something you love and you will never work a day in your life.”  That’s the way I feel about writing.  Back before the computer days I used to watch my father working on his editorials.  He would always write them out longhand and then take them to work to have them typed.  I would watch him sit in his La-z-Boy and think up the right things to say.  It was as if a giant paper was in front of him and he was organizing the story in his mind on that imaginary paper.  When he was ready he would pull out a yellow pad of paper and write the article in one sitting.  He never had to pause to search for the right word or phrase.  It was all worked out in advance.  My father was a talented man.  My style is much more involved as a novel is so much more detailed than a magazine editorial.  As many of you know, I plan it out on paper and then think through it 10,000 times.  Finally I put it on paper (in the computer).  It’s slow and methodical but it works for me.  Many writers just sit down and let the words flow.  That sounds like fun to me but it also sounds scary.  It’s like driving without a map in the city.  If you make a wrong turn you find yourself in a dead end.  Nevertheless, some writers thrive in such an environment.  I wish I could do that.  Other writers put out a rough draft and then write the final draft off of it.  I confess I don’t have the patience for that.  If I’m going to write then I want to be sure of what I am putting out.  In the end there is no right or wrong way to write.  Just as there is no right or wrong way of sleeping.  You do whatever works best for you.  The biggest key to writing is to know when to stop or else you will just revise your work forever and never see it published. 

Linvin placed his hands on his hips and surveyed the view.
Ascending stands rose on the right and left of him holding the
elected assemblymen. King Trigonan sat impatiently on his throne
before Linvin and was the first to speak.
“Good day to you, Lord Grithinshield. Or should I say, ‘good
evening’? I am told you kept me and this entire body waiting while
you counted your money. Is this so?”
Linvin chuckled with no sign of intimidation and responded,
“As with all lies and hearsay, there is a morsel of truth to your
statement. I was managing a conflict within my company, and the
parties took longer to settle their differences than I had expected.
My tardiness in no way reflects my respect for you or this body. If
I have offended anyone in this great room, I am truly sorry. Should
you wish it, I will take leave of you and set another appointment
whenever I happen into town again.”
The king’s expression changed from mild anger to frightened
alarm. “There is no need to reschedule, Lord Grithinshield. We
were merely eager to seek your council on some matters.”
“Then, by all means,” Linvin said as he moved closer to
Trigonan. “Let us talk. I see that you have decided to increase the
size of the army as I had suggested. Have you settled on a troop
level?”
The king looked to his advisors and then answered, “There is
not a set number in mind, but we want to be prepared in case we
need to summon our militia if war arises.”
“Militia,” Linvin repeated with repulsion. “Do you mean to tell
me you have purchased arms for an army you have not and do not
intend to raise?”
An anonymous voice from one of the stands cried out, “Armies
cost money and are of little use unless there is war. They simply
drain the treasury. What is your complaint, Grithinshield? You are
being well paid. Isn’t that what this was all about?”
Linvin glared angrily at the boisterous mob. “Once again it
seems my words are misunderstood. The Mandreans are a
significant threat to our national security. Militias carrying even
the finest weapons are no match for trained legions. Did you not
heed my warning two years ago?”
Trigonan raised his hand to silence the assembly. “Lord
Grithinshield, this room took your words most seriously when you
were last here. In the time since, we have taken measures to assure
our continued safety from the Mandrean threat.”
Linvin produced the staff holding the Red Sapphire and stood at
attention. “Exactly what steps have you taken?”
The king looked nervously at his cabinet and then spoke.
“Aside from the afore-mentioned arms buildup, we have begun
paring down Thornhaven Forest.”
Linvin’s eyes widened at the utterance. “Exactly how much
have you ‘paired down’ the forest?”
King Trigonan stood tall with his hands behind his back and
spoke as he paced before his throne. “We have created a highway
wide enough to march two-hundred men abreast straight into the
Unclaimed Territory. The forest is no longer a barrier for us.”
“Or them,” fumed Linvin. “The very fact that Thornhaven was
virtually impenetrable to an army was what saved our nation the
last time we tangled with the Mandreans. Now you clear a road
they could easily use to invade Sartan. And rather than train an
army of sufficient size to protect us, you plan to rely on militia?”
The king did not take kindly to being spoken to in such a
manner. Even Linvin’s credibility could not avert his anger. “Need
I remind you that we won the last war at the Battle of the Tree
Line because of the militia? This body knows what we are doing.”
“Indeed?” Linvin retorted. “Did this body forget that the battle
to which you refer could not have happened if there were no trees
to form the line? You have stripped us of our greatest defense
against invasion.”

“According to your father’s will, all of your company’s and family’s assets are the property of you and your mother.  So for all practical purposes, you control the money.  I was a friend to Dirk, but I do not know you.   Our bank and your family have been through good times and bad times together, but always we remained together.  So I must ask you, Mr. Grithinshield, what are your plans for your company and your fortune?”
Linvin casually flipped to the final balance line on the ledger and tried hard not to look impressed.  “Let me start by saying that I do not recall any bad times you had to endure with my family, but no matter.  When I was a young lad, your bank was rather small, was it not?”
Gredly reluctantly nodded.  “We were not as big as we are today, that is true.”
Linvin looked through some papers on the desk.  “Yes, I believe you were the fifth largest bank in Fraylic out of the six in town when my father began this business.  Times certainly have changed.”
Again Gredly nodded.  “We have done well over the years.”
“You are being modest,” Linvin chided.  “Your bank is the foremost lending house in the world.  I know for a fact that Valia obtains loans from you.  I imagine many other countries do as well.  You have become enormously wealthy by lending my family’s money.”
“Such is the nature of banking,” Gredly interjected.  He squirmed as though his seat had become slippery.
Linvin smiled in a wicked fashion.  “Look at you.  You are terrified that tomorrow morningI will come to your bank and wish to withdraw all of my assets, are you not?  The greatest bank in the world would collapse in one day.  That is why you are here right now.”
“Is that your intent?  Is that why you brought me over here?” fumed Gredly.
“Well, that depends,” Linvin said while putting his pipe down.
“On what?” asked Gredly cautiously.
Linvin turned in one quick motion and swept every paper from his desk onto Gredly.  “That depends on how you explain this mountain of unpaid invoices from vendors.  My store and warehouse are half empty and it is because venders were not being paid in a timely fashion, if at all!  We have lost precious suppliers that we may not get back so that you could hold onto the money due them.  Your shortsighted greed would have my company bankrupt within three years.  Where would your precious deposits be then?”
Gredly had a look of astonishment as he heard the knowledge Linvin possessed.  “Mr. Grithinshield, it was your father who paid your venders and it is not our responsibility if those who managed your finances in his stead did so irresponsibly.”
“Do not take me for a fool, Mr. Gredly.  Such large payments to venders go from bank to bank.  You sit covered in papers saying the proper authorization signature is not present to pay this invoice.  Please resubmit.  You sat on money due to my company’s vendors, my company’s friends!  Then you have the gall to blame our bookkeeping?  Do you take me for a fool?”

For those of you who follow my blog, you’ll remember that I have had my share of problems with Windows 8.  Time has passed and I have gotten used to the system.  That doesn’t mean I love it but I am used to it.   Then I kept getting these pop-up notices that I could update to Windows 10 for free.  I ignored them for several months and then a friend pointed out that Windows 10 was going to be the operating system for several years and would prolong the usefulness of my computer.  I was convinced to do the upgrade.  So I did it.  My world turned upside down.  Programs I used regularly now said I didn’t have permission to use them; even after reinstalling them.  Sometimes when I go to the start screen all the options are blank or else they are in Chinese.  It doesn’t recognize Internet Explorer though you can find and use it with some work.  The system is set up to use something called Microsoft Edge which has elements of Explorer but is more like a web site than a web browser.  It’s filled with all sorts of stories from sports to politics.  If I wanted to go to a magazine page, I would.  The browser is not as good as Google or Norton for that matter.  Even Real Player hasn’t been working right since the change.  I suppose I’ll get used to it in time but right now I’m actually missing Windows 8!  Who ever thought I would be saying that.  As with that system, I suppose I will get used to this one.  It is human nature, I believe, to resist change, and then eventually accept it.  I only hope I have the patience to wait.

Rander could restrain himself no longer and stood in front of
Linvin. “This is a suicide trip, Linvin. You cannot possibly save
Anvar and return. You are riding head first into death with your
eyes wide open. Can you not see the futility of your endeavor? We
stand here and act like you are going on a trading mission when
you go to certain demise. There must be a better way.”
“If there is one, I have not thought of it,” Linvin sighed. “I hear
your words, and there is logic to be found. But this is Uncle Anvar
we are talking about. How many times did he come through for
us? What about all the times he saved our lives? Think of all the
wisdom he has imparted to us over the years. Remember all the
fights between us he stopped?
“Since the loss of my father so many years ago he has filled that
role as my mentor. He even visited me when I was sent to Valia.
That man means more to me than anyone on Lavacia, and his life
is in my hands. How could I not go? If I must give my life so he
will live, I will do it. Does he mean so little to you that you would
not do the same?”
“You know he is as dear to us as he is to you,” Rander snapped
back. “It may sound strange hearing me saying this, but you have
come to mean just as much to us. In spite of all we did to you and
the way we treated you throughout your life, you gave us another
chance and made us better men in the process. Now we have more
than just a living but also a future. You are important, Linvin. In
some ways, you are more important than Uncle Anvar.
“We depend on him. To lose him would devastate the three of
us. But you, Linvin, you were chosen by the Red Sapphire to make
the difference for this entire world. We would feel the sting of
your loss first. You have told me the gem informed you of dark
times ahead. Evil greater than any the world has seen is coming.
How many people will suffer or die without you to fulfill your
mandate? The free world is depending on you and as much as it
pains me to say it, you are more important to the masses than
Anvar could ever be. You speak of logic. Even if Mandrean comes
after us or our mother as you predicted, our lives are still not worth
losing you. Do not go, Linvin. Your death will help no one as they
will likely kill Uncle Anvar anyway.”
Linvin ran his hand through his hair as he was prone to do when
frustrated. “You know, Anvar once told me a person must look at
themselves in the mirror and like who they see. Your actions
define who you become and your opinion of yourself. Even though
everything you have said is true, how could I look myself in the
mirror and like a man who chose to allow his uncle to be killed
when there was a chance to save him? After that, how could I face
my reflection after the rest of my family was systematically
erased?
“Do you not think I have examined this problem from every
possible angle? If there was another way, I would do it. Until the
situation changes, however, I must go, and I do not have time to
waste.”
“So everyone you were meant to help with the Red Sapphire is
on his own,” Rander remarked bitterly. “We all went on that quest
and suffered so you could throw your life away. Staying here is not
a selfish act. It is the wisest move. Uncle Anvar would say the
same if he were here. Are you so blinded by guilt that you will
walk off a cliff?”
Linvin placed his hand on his cousin’s shoulder. “Let me ask
you this, Rander. If Mandrean was holding your mother and
offered the same terms, would you not go?”
“That is not the same thing,” Rander said as he shook Linvin.
“My loss would not impact hundreds of thousands of lives. Your
loss would snuff out the lone beacon on a starless night.”
“It is the same,” Linvin corrected as he pulled away. “You may
not possess my power, but you touch more lives than you can
imagine. We both know you would be on a horse headed north
with all due haste if your mother hung in the balance. That is my
intent as well. Anvar is like a father to me, and I will not forsake
him.”