Another excerpt from my new project: Grayden's Tale (which is just my working title) - it's the same one I've been posting excerpts from for a while now...
******
The first rays of sunlight crept over the horizon, illuminating the thin layer of frost that covered the ground. Each blade of grass glistened in the nacreous light of dawn. As the sun rose higher in the sky, the warmth of its rays gradually melted the frost into crystal beads of water.
The village was draped in garlands of late-summer flowers. Unlit lanterns lined the walkways of the town. Multi-colored ribbons fluttered from various doorways and were wrapped around fence posts, swaying gently in the morning breeze. The town was a veritable wash of color and cheer.
“Grayden! Wake up! Wake up! Today is Harvest Festival.”
Grayden groaned and threw an arm above his head, squeezing his eyes shut and pulling his blanket over his face. He did not know what time it was, but he was certain it was earlier than he wanted it to be. A small, but powerful force landed on his stomach.
“Oof,” he grunted.
The covers were pulled back and he squinted blearily into a pair of bright green eyes. He sighed, he would never get back to sleep now.
“What time is it, Seren?”
“I don’t know, but the sun is up. Today is the big celebration.”
“I know, Seren. Do you know what happens today?”
“We celebrate the harvest, and we throw a party for you and Wynn.”
“And we also generally rest, Seren. That means we get to sleep in.”
“I slept in... well, a little. Mother said I couldn’t wake you until the sun was all the way up, I waited a whole hour.”
Grayden grinned, “Well, for that incredible feat of patience, I suppose I should thank you.”
Seren nodded, her blond curls bouncing around her small face, “You’re welcome.”
“Know what else happens on Harvest Festival?”
“No.”
“Big brothers are allowed to tickle their annoying little sisters who wake them up early.”
“No...” Seren hesitated.
Grayden grinned and formed his hands into claws, growling. Seren shrieked and threw the covers over his head, diving towards the edge of the bed. Grayden caught her leg and started tickling the bottom of her foot. Seren squirmed and giggled, kicking at him with her free foot, shrieking and laughing.
The door to Grayden’s bedroom swung open and Grayden looked up at the cheerful face of his mother. He let go of Seren who half clambered, half fell out of the bed. Their mother put her hands on her hips.
“Grayden was demonstrating one of the Festival traditions, I see.”
“Mother! You mean it’s true?” Seren said, eyes wide.
“I’m afraid so... but only once during the day,” she winked at her son and Grayden grinned. “Come on, Seren, I need your help stirring the biscuit batter, and Grayden needs to get up and get dressed for his big day.”
Seren stood up and bounced out of the room. Dara smiled after the little girl and then met her son’s gaze. Grayden saw all her emotions jumbled together in her forest green eyes. They mirrored his own emotions: pride, fear, joy, sorrow, happiness, and a little bit of wistfulness.
“Your father’s out milking the cow. He thought you should get to sleep in this day, but he said there was a pile of wood that needs chopping after you have breakfast.”
“Yes, Mother.”
Showing posts with label excerpt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label excerpt. Show all posts
April 15, 2011
March 25, 2011
Freebie Friday
Here's an excerpt from the revised version of King's Warrior - coming soon to a bookstore near you (hopefully) ;)
Kamarie, Oraeyn, and Darby meet Yole for the first time in the Mountains of Dusk:
“What is your name?” she asked gently as she walked towards him with an outstretched hand.
The boy shrank from her hand as if it were deadly poison. He glanced up at her and their eyes locked. A shock went through Kamarie as she felt a recognition of something long forgotten shoot into her. The youth seemed to experience the same thing, for he went rigid, and he looked at her sharply. His face suddenly looked too old, too wise for his apparent youthful age.
“My name is Yole,” the boy said hesitantly, “who are you? I didn’t know there was anyone else in these mountains.”
“I am Kamarie, and my two companions are Oraeyn and Darby,” Kamarie said, still puzzling over what she had seen in the youth’s eyes. It had seemed as though she was looking through a window and seeing a very different world than the one she had expected. There was something strangely familiar about this youth, like a part of a dream that has faded with time but was never completely forgotten.
Oraeyn stepped forward, “What are you doing out here alone?” his voice was concerned, and a little bit suspicious.
Yole glanced at his feet, “I was working for a man in the village of Peak’s Shadow.”
Kamarie’s eyes met Oraeyn’s in startled recognition; he nodded and touched the hilt of his sword as if expecting an attack. Yole continued without noticing their reaction to the name that he had uttered, “I fell asleep while I was watching the herd, I know I shouldn’t have, but I was listening to the other shepherds’ playing their pipes and the music just made me feel drowsy and tired and I couldn’t help but fall asleep.
“The next thing I knew, Brant was waking me up and telling me that I had to leave, that I should be more careful around people. I think he was accusing me of stealing sheep or something, but I didn’t. I don’t have any use for sheep of my own. I wouldn’t know what to do with them. I certainly don’t have any place to put them,” Yole’s tone was open and slightly confused, “I’ve been wandering through these mountains trying to find my way out for a long time now. I don’t have any food left, and I think I’m lost.” He sniffed, and wiped his nose with his grimy hand.
Kamarie winced and said, “We have some food.”
At the same time, Oraeyn asked, “Did you say Brant?”
The boy looked at Kamarie gratefully, then turned to Oraeyn, “Yes sir. The man I worked for was named Brant.”
“Well, now, that’s just the man that we need to find, isn’t it?” Darby said, causing them all to jump. It was sometimes fairly easy to forget that Darby was even there she spoke so little.
“Yes, Darby, it is,” Kamarie said, surprised that she had not been as quick as either Darby or Oraeyn to make that connection.
“He’s a good man,” Yole said quickly, darting a look at them as if he thought they would start accusing him of being ungrateful, “looks out for his people, he’s not really the leader of the village or anything, but everyone looks up to him. Whenever there’s trouble, it’s brought to Brant, and he deals with it, never saw anyone more fair in his treatment of others. And his family is nice too: kind, generous people. I don’t hold a thing against them. I don’t know what I did, but I know I probably deserved to be kicked out, because Brant wouldn’t ever issue a punishment if it weren’t deserved.”
“Does he still bend knee to his King?” Kamarie asked thoughtfully.
Yole stared at her, “Of course he does!” He exclaimed. “I told you, he’s a good man, follows the rules. Fair. Of course he bends knee to King Arnaud, he thinks very highly of him, he always speaks of the king with respect and admiration. He’s a man of character, Brant is, loyal to the end.”
“Alright, alright!” Kamarie held up her hands, “I was not questioning his character. We just have to be careful in these difficult days.”
The defensiveness went out of Yole’s eyes, “I’m sorry too, but Brant, he was good to me. Paid me more than I deserved, sent me out with plenty of food, well, it would have been enough food if I hadn’t gotten lost. Most of the other people I worked for used whips when they sent me away. I was chased out of one town by the villagers, they threw rocks and threatened to kill me if I ever came back.”
Oraeyn stared at him, “What did you do?”
“I don’t know, really,” he said, “but it must have been something awful.”
“Did you ever consider, young man,” Darby suddenly spoke up, “that perhaps they were in the wrong?”
Yole’s eyes got big, and he looked scared, “No! Never! I wouldn’t even let the thought enter my head. I just broke some rule and had to be punished for it, that’s all.”
Kamarie, Oraeyn, and Darby meet Yole for the first time in the Mountains of Dusk:
“What is your name?” she asked gently as she walked towards him with an outstretched hand.
The boy shrank from her hand as if it were deadly poison. He glanced up at her and their eyes locked. A shock went through Kamarie as she felt a recognition of something long forgotten shoot into her. The youth seemed to experience the same thing, for he went rigid, and he looked at her sharply. His face suddenly looked too old, too wise for his apparent youthful age.
“My name is Yole,” the boy said hesitantly, “who are you? I didn’t know there was anyone else in these mountains.”
“I am Kamarie, and my two companions are Oraeyn and Darby,” Kamarie said, still puzzling over what she had seen in the youth’s eyes. It had seemed as though she was looking through a window and seeing a very different world than the one she had expected. There was something strangely familiar about this youth, like a part of a dream that has faded with time but was never completely forgotten.
Oraeyn stepped forward, “What are you doing out here alone?” his voice was concerned, and a little bit suspicious.
Yole glanced at his feet, “I was working for a man in the village of Peak’s Shadow.”
Kamarie’s eyes met Oraeyn’s in startled recognition; he nodded and touched the hilt of his sword as if expecting an attack. Yole continued without noticing their reaction to the name that he had uttered, “I fell asleep while I was watching the herd, I know I shouldn’t have, but I was listening to the other shepherds’ playing their pipes and the music just made me feel drowsy and tired and I couldn’t help but fall asleep.
“The next thing I knew, Brant was waking me up and telling me that I had to leave, that I should be more careful around people. I think he was accusing me of stealing sheep or something, but I didn’t. I don’t have any use for sheep of my own. I wouldn’t know what to do with them. I certainly don’t have any place to put them,” Yole’s tone was open and slightly confused, “I’ve been wandering through these mountains trying to find my way out for a long time now. I don’t have any food left, and I think I’m lost.” He sniffed, and wiped his nose with his grimy hand.
Kamarie winced and said, “We have some food.”
At the same time, Oraeyn asked, “Did you say Brant?”
The boy looked at Kamarie gratefully, then turned to Oraeyn, “Yes sir. The man I worked for was named Brant.”
“Well, now, that’s just the man that we need to find, isn’t it?” Darby said, causing them all to jump. It was sometimes fairly easy to forget that Darby was even there she spoke so little.
“Yes, Darby, it is,” Kamarie said, surprised that she had not been as quick as either Darby or Oraeyn to make that connection.
“He’s a good man,” Yole said quickly, darting a look at them as if he thought they would start accusing him of being ungrateful, “looks out for his people, he’s not really the leader of the village or anything, but everyone looks up to him. Whenever there’s trouble, it’s brought to Brant, and he deals with it, never saw anyone more fair in his treatment of others. And his family is nice too: kind, generous people. I don’t hold a thing against them. I don’t know what I did, but I know I probably deserved to be kicked out, because Brant wouldn’t ever issue a punishment if it weren’t deserved.”
“Does he still bend knee to his King?” Kamarie asked thoughtfully.
Yole stared at her, “Of course he does!” He exclaimed. “I told you, he’s a good man, follows the rules. Fair. Of course he bends knee to King Arnaud, he thinks very highly of him, he always speaks of the king with respect and admiration. He’s a man of character, Brant is, loyal to the end.”
“Alright, alright!” Kamarie held up her hands, “I was not questioning his character. We just have to be careful in these difficult days.”
The defensiveness went out of Yole’s eyes, “I’m sorry too, but Brant, he was good to me. Paid me more than I deserved, sent me out with plenty of food, well, it would have been enough food if I hadn’t gotten lost. Most of the other people I worked for used whips when they sent me away. I was chased out of one town by the villagers, they threw rocks and threatened to kill me if I ever came back.”
Oraeyn stared at him, “What did you do?”
“I don’t know, really,” he said, “but it must have been something awful.”
“Did you ever consider, young man,” Darby suddenly spoke up, “that perhaps they were in the wrong?”
Yole’s eyes got big, and he looked scared, “No! Never! I wouldn’t even let the thought enter my head. I just broke some rule and had to be punished for it, that’s all.”
February 18, 2011
Freebie Friday
My favorite section of "The Dragon's Eye"
*~*~*~*~*~*
“And who are you?” the funny looking man asked. “Perhaps I could write a song about it: the young boy who wandered alone the open roads of the southern realm. Ah! But that would make a magnificent tale!”
As he spoke, his hands moved quickly, bringing out four brightly colored round objects. Throwing them up in the air, he tossed them back and forth in intricate patterns that took Yole’s breath away. Yole laughed delightedly and clapped his hands.
The young man smiled and stood up to take a bow, “You like my juggling?”
Yole nodded enthusiastically, “Yes, I do!”
The strange man smiled again at the delight of his young audience, but then his shoulders drooped and his smile faltered, “It is truly a pity that no one else seems to,” he sighed dramatically.
Yole looked at him quizzically, “What do you mean?”
“I am completely unappreciated by many of my audiences,” the man sighed again and put a hand to his forehead, his voice was plaintive but uncomplaining. “I tried to get an audience at the castle, but they have too many minstrels already, or so they told me. Then I tried to juggle and sing for the rich merchants, but they are all more interested in the newer stories and the fancier tricks, bah! Fancier tricks! Why, when I juggle I make their heads spin, but that’s the way of the rich, they’re alright until you want to be paid, then they get stingy on you and hem and haw about how little talent you really have. Hah! They wouldn’t know talent if it reached out and pinched their noses, now there would be a sight! Ha ha!” The man’s voice changed with each turn of his story, as if he were weaving the words into an intricate pattern on some unseen loom.
Yole laughed at the antics of the minstrel. The minstrel did not notice, but continued talking, almost as though to himself.
“No siree, there is no greater talent beneath the Dragon’s Eye than that of the Great Kiernan Kane! No, the Magnificent… oh, hello there,” the Great Kiernan Kane abruptly halted his flow of words as he suddenly seemed to remember that he had an audience, small though it was. “What is your name? I completely forgot to ask you.”
Yole suppressed a smile, “My name is Y…Ian.” He said, catching himself just an instant before he slipped and gave away his real name.
“Yian! Marvelous!” The minstrel said, “And my name is Kiernan Kane. Kiernan Kane the Magnificent Minstrel they call me in the large cities, (they also throw rotten fruits and vegetables at me, just goes to show how unappreciated I am) but you can call me Kiernan.”
*~*~*~*~*~*
“And who are you?” the funny looking man asked. “Perhaps I could write a song about it: the young boy who wandered alone the open roads of the southern realm. Ah! But that would make a magnificent tale!”
As he spoke, his hands moved quickly, bringing out four brightly colored round objects. Throwing them up in the air, he tossed them back and forth in intricate patterns that took Yole’s breath away. Yole laughed delightedly and clapped his hands.
The young man smiled and stood up to take a bow, “You like my juggling?”
Yole nodded enthusiastically, “Yes, I do!”
The strange man smiled again at the delight of his young audience, but then his shoulders drooped and his smile faltered, “It is truly a pity that no one else seems to,” he sighed dramatically.
Yole looked at him quizzically, “What do you mean?”
“I am completely unappreciated by many of my audiences,” the man sighed again and put a hand to his forehead, his voice was plaintive but uncomplaining. “I tried to get an audience at the castle, but they have too many minstrels already, or so they told me. Then I tried to juggle and sing for the rich merchants, but they are all more interested in the newer stories and the fancier tricks, bah! Fancier tricks! Why, when I juggle I make their heads spin, but that’s the way of the rich, they’re alright until you want to be paid, then they get stingy on you and hem and haw about how little talent you really have. Hah! They wouldn’t know talent if it reached out and pinched their noses, now there would be a sight! Ha ha!” The man’s voice changed with each turn of his story, as if he were weaving the words into an intricate pattern on some unseen loom.
Yole laughed at the antics of the minstrel. The minstrel did not notice, but continued talking, almost as though to himself.
“No siree, there is no greater talent beneath the Dragon’s Eye than that of the Great Kiernan Kane! No, the Magnificent… oh, hello there,” the Great Kiernan Kane abruptly halted his flow of words as he suddenly seemed to remember that he had an audience, small though it was. “What is your name? I completely forgot to ask you.”
Yole suppressed a smile, “My name is Y…Ian.” He said, catching himself just an instant before he slipped and gave away his real name.
“Yian! Marvelous!” The minstrel said, “And my name is Kiernan Kane. Kiernan Kane the Magnificent Minstrel they call me in the large cities, (they also throw rotten fruits and vegetables at me, just goes to show how unappreciated I am) but you can call me Kiernan.”
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