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hwangoJust posting my word count has gotten rather boring. Instead, look upon ye excerpt from ye NaNoWriMo novel.
Valaria’s summer had come early, it seemed. The shade of the porch provided some respite from the heat, but Alastrum longed for a cool breeze, regardless that it might disturb the pages of his journal as he wrote. He briefly considered summoning one, but decided that it would be a poor example for Verdillin. This thought led to a sudden realization that Verdillin was nowhere to be seen, and Alastrum tried to recall if he had sent her on an errand of some sort. More likely the girl had wandered off again.
He must stop thinking of her as a girl, he told himself. She was nearly a woman, and could already pass for one in both bearing and temperament, when she chose to. At times like this, however, it was easy to remember that her rite of passage had not taken place this past spring, and might not take place next spring either unless she applied herself more fully to her studies. She could call on the Patrons with the proper words, and she spun their gifts well enough, but there was more to a shaman’s path than these two skills.
Alastrum heard a noise from the side of the cabin and was about to call Verdillin’s name until he realized that it was the sound of hooves and not feet. Three men wearing the green and silver of the King’s Fist rode around the corner of the building, and, upon seeing Alastrum, the one in the lead made a fist over his heart in salute. The other two had no hand free to do so, even if they had been so inclined. Each held a long spear in one hand and a heavy wooden shield in the other. Alastrum raised a questioning eyebrow, but did not rise from his chair.
“Brother Alastrum, I bear to you a message from His Revered Majesty King Cerellewyn,” said the leader, and though his words were respectful, his tone held somewhat less deference than Alastrum might have expected. He reflected that the man probably resented being used as a mere messenger. Indeed, Alastrum was curious why the king’s military had been given the message rather than sending it by more conventional means. Then he noticed the eagle and crown insignia on the man’s uniform, and realized that the man had journeyed here all the way from the capital city itself. That indicated that the message was too important to be passed from one messenger to another, and that the man had been on the road for weeks with this task that he doubtless felt was a waste of his abilities.
Alastrum rose from his seat and walked to the edge of the porch. It might have been more polite to descend the steps and allow the man to hand the message down to him, but Alastrum had removed his shoes some time earlier and was not certain at the moment where he might have put them. While he remained behind the railing on the porch there was some chance that the riders might not notice this, while they certainly would if they saw him use the stairs.
Alastrum leaned against the railing and extended his arm, and the lead rider scowled and steered his mount a couple of steps closer to the cabin. The rider leaned out of the saddle and handed a thin scroll tube to the shaman and then backed off his horse. Then he waited, and expectant look on his face. Alastrum supposed the message must require a reply of some kind, and opened the tube to extract the scroll.
After breaking the wax seal, Alastrum tried to unroll the scroll and hold the tube at the same time, and failed. He fumbled his grip on the tube and it clattered onto the wooden boards at his feet and then rolled under the railing and onto the ground. One of the soldiers in the honor guard snickered until the lead rider turned and glared at him. Alastrum smiled sheepishly and returned his attention to the scroll. As he read further and further, his face betrayed more and more concern. Near the end, he suddenly stopped reading and looked up in shock at the riders.
“What, immediately?” Alastrum said, flabbergasted. The lead rider’s grim expression showed that he was no more pleased with the idea than Alastrum.
“We should leave within the hour. I have a horse for you with the rest of the guard,” he said. So, there were more of them? Most likely they waited just down the road from the cabin. It became clear that it was not the message itself that had been assigned such a large and well-armed escort. The guards must have realized this as well. Alastrum wondered whether the guard was present to protect him from some unknown danger, or to make sure that he traveled to the capital in the first place. The message was phrased as a request, but Alastrum might as well have been under arrest for all of the choice that he had.
Comments (positive or negative, but preferably constructive) welcomed and encouraged.
Valaria’s summer had come early, it seemed. The shade of the porch provided some respite from the heat, but Alastrum longed for a cool breeze, regardless that it might disturb the pages of his journal as he wrote. He briefly considered summoning one, but decided that it would be a poor example for Verdillin. This thought led to a sudden realization that Verdillin was nowhere to be seen, and Alastrum tried to recall if he had sent her on an errand of some sort. More likely the girl had wandered off again.
He must stop thinking of her as a girl, he told himself. She was nearly a woman, and could already pass for one in both bearing and temperament, when she chose to. At times like this, however, it was easy to remember that her rite of passage had not taken place this past spring, and might not take place next spring either unless she applied herself more fully to her studies. She could call on the Patrons with the proper words, and she spun their gifts well enough, but there was more to a shaman’s path than these two skills.
Alastrum heard a noise from the side of the cabin and was about to call Verdillin’s name until he realized that it was the sound of hooves and not feet. Three men wearing the green and silver of the King’s Fist rode around the corner of the building, and, upon seeing Alastrum, the one in the lead made a fist over his heart in salute. The other two had no hand free to do so, even if they had been so inclined. Each held a long spear in one hand and a heavy wooden shield in the other. Alastrum raised a questioning eyebrow, but did not rise from his chair.
“Brother Alastrum, I bear to you a message from His Revered Majesty King Cerellewyn,” said the leader, and though his words were respectful, his tone held somewhat less deference than Alastrum might have expected. He reflected that the man probably resented being used as a mere messenger. Indeed, Alastrum was curious why the king’s military had been given the message rather than sending it by more conventional means. Then he noticed the eagle and crown insignia on the man’s uniform, and realized that the man had journeyed here all the way from the capital city itself. That indicated that the message was too important to be passed from one messenger to another, and that the man had been on the road for weeks with this task that he doubtless felt was a waste of his abilities.
Alastrum rose from his seat and walked to the edge of the porch. It might have been more polite to descend the steps and allow the man to hand the message down to him, but Alastrum had removed his shoes some time earlier and was not certain at the moment where he might have put them. While he remained behind the railing on the porch there was some chance that the riders might not notice this, while they certainly would if they saw him use the stairs.
Alastrum leaned against the railing and extended his arm, and the lead rider scowled and steered his mount a couple of steps closer to the cabin. The rider leaned out of the saddle and handed a thin scroll tube to the shaman and then backed off his horse. Then he waited, and expectant look on his face. Alastrum supposed the message must require a reply of some kind, and opened the tube to extract the scroll.
After breaking the wax seal, Alastrum tried to unroll the scroll and hold the tube at the same time, and failed. He fumbled his grip on the tube and it clattered onto the wooden boards at his feet and then rolled under the railing and onto the ground. One of the soldiers in the honor guard snickered until the lead rider turned and glared at him. Alastrum smiled sheepishly and returned his attention to the scroll. As he read further and further, his face betrayed more and more concern. Near the end, he suddenly stopped reading and looked up in shock at the riders.
“What, immediately?” Alastrum said, flabbergasted. The lead rider’s grim expression showed that he was no more pleased with the idea than Alastrum.
“We should leave within the hour. I have a horse for you with the rest of the guard,” he said. So, there were more of them? Most likely they waited just down the road from the cabin. It became clear that it was not the message itself that had been assigned such a large and well-armed escort. The guards must have realized this as well. Alastrum wondered whether the guard was present to protect him from some unknown danger, or to make sure that he traveled to the capital in the first place. The message was phrased as a request, but Alastrum might as well have been under arrest for all of the choice that he had.
Comments (positive or negative, but preferably constructive) welcomed and encouraged.
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no subject
Date: 2004-11-16 02:38 am (UTC)