I'm still a pretty new writer.
I've only spent about two years now seriously writing with the hopes of one day being published.
But, just like any other writer, I'm scared to share my work.
So, today I'm sharing.
The following is a little over two pages long.
It's a scene I wrote over the weekend to explore one of my allies for my WIP, and it took a life of its own.
I'm now super curious about this guy (whose name is Jedrek, by the way).
Maybe after I finish my WIP I'll write his story.
Creeping along, I'm staying as close to the shadows as I can. Stemps bumps loudly into me and I wince. Closing my eyes I count slowly. Reaching twenty and hearing no new sounds, we move on. This was going to be a long night.
We reach the road shortly before the distant sound of bells calling Midle Nacht sounds. We hadn't missed it. Motioning to the others behind me to find their places as fast as they can. After all was ready, I sank down to my own spot. We wait.
At half past, the lights appear. Soon we can hear the thundering sound. Thumpen thump. Thumpen thump. Thumpen thump. The sound almost makes me smile, anticipating the food it would bring. Almost.
The coach finally comes fully in sight.
Standing up so as I was almost doubled over with my ragged cloak wrapped tightly around me, I limp my way onto the road while reaching down and throwing dust and dirt on my face. The coach slows to a stop.
"Good Brother of Mork, I command you to move." The driver calls down.
I shake my head and moan. Muttering about something to do with distress and the sky.
"Brother, if you do not move, I will force you to move or be run over."
A sharp exclamation resounds from inside the coach and moments later a brunette sticks her head out of the window.
"Don't you dare, sir! I might be not from here, but I know propriety."
Moments later the door opens and a young woman, dressed in the rich undyed cottons from Calset comes out. Around her neck is a pendant that I can't quite make out, but it is large.
"Good Brother, we need to make port before Soon Rechst. Please, let us pass." She slowly starts walking towards me.
"My Lady, yeh don't know the ways of this place! Get bach in here!" A heavy Divont accent clouds the voice of an older heavyset woman who comes out, anxiously tugging at her sleeves and elbows.
"Cassyl, it's just a Brother."
"Lady, it might look like a brother, but don't let that fool you." The driver barks. "There are Mullocks in these parts. Get back NOW."
The young woman glares up at the coachman and walked over too me.
"I'm protected by Curstall's Light, and it warns me when a Mullock is near by. This is no Mullock. This is a Brother!" Purposefully she reachs down and yank my hood.
With no other choice left, I stand up and grab her as my men pour down from their different locations.
"I warned you Lady!" Barks the coachman as he struggles with a beefy lad, Crooks, for the reigns.
"Yes, you did good sir!" I answer as I hold my dagger to her throat. "Now, if you would like to make the port by Soon Rechst, I will be needing the goods."
The plump older woman, Cassyl, looks around with her eyes wide. "Lady! It's happened! The Prophetess said it would! Lady!"
The young woman audibly groans. "Of course it did Cassyl! Now just shut up and get back into the coach. I'm pretty sure the driver and I can handle this."
I bite my cheek as I try to not groan with her. Of all kinds of coaches to stop this time. Stemps comes into view, a beautiful big bruise blooming on his face.
“Deh ol' miss is armt!”
Sure enough, Cassyl comes into view a few seconds later with a big old lute.
“I don' care what yah do wi' me! Jus' leev deh gurl alun!”
I keep my eyes closely on the woman, trying to keep my mask of calmness in place.
“Don't do anything rash, marm.” I call out.
A thud comes from the coach. I turn my head to catch sight of the coach driver on the ground, big ol' Fronse stands nearby with a big bolder.
“I said no deaths tonight!” I holler at the ox of the lot.
I turn back to the nervous old woman as Stemps walks over to the driver.
“He's not de'd.” Stemps hollers a second later.
The old woman looks ready to faint.
“Yeh don' knur what yah doin'!” She starts to holler at me. “If she goes, we alls goes! If she dies, we alls dies! Yeh have tah let 'er go!”
I shake my head slowly.
“The way your acting, marm, I cannot do that.” The young lady starts to shift slowly and I tighten my grip, sliding the dagger farther up her neck. “Not now, marm.” I whisper in her ear. She glares at me.
“You know, sir, she is right. If they reach the harbor without me, we're counted as dead. All of us. They'd be killed if I don't go with them.”
I look down into her eyes, trying to decipher her own expressionless face.
“I don't want hostages. I want the money.”
She glares up at me. “Cassyl, go give him what he wants.” She calls out in a bland voice.
Cassyl slowly totters over to the coach and comes back minutes later, carrying a small pouch that loudly clinks with her every step.
I nod at Crooks, who gallantly strolls over to her with his hand held out. She throws the bag at him. Hard. The thud sounds very painful.
“Yeh ceen hav' it fer all I care! Jus' let her go!”
I look up to see her face has turned a shade of purple. I looked down again at the young woman.
Undyed Calsetian cotton, highest craftsmanship that I've seen yet, with faint, very worn white embroidery on the edge of the neckline and hem. A pattern resembling the protective symbols that I've seen in Curstallian temples, if my memory is correct. But that was ages ago. The pendant. Of fine craftsmanship as well, and from the faint light, it's made of the Dalian Red Gold. A rim of dark glassy stones, what look both red and black, create a pattern around the edge. A design of fine silver strands and what looks like pearls are intertwined within it. I know where she's from, and she's not going back. Not now that she's seen my face.
“I'm sorry for what I've said before, marm, but I can't let her go now.” I start to back into the shadows with her.
“NO!” Cassyl totters forward a few steps before collapsing on the ground. She tries to stand but her legs are shaking too hard and her arms are as limp as willow branches.
The young woman throws her head back hard, I barely get out of the way in time to keep her from banging my chin.
“Cassyl! Tell Ferdy! Tell him-”
I clamp my hand over her mouth. A sudden shiver of cold trickles down my face. I'd started to sweat back there.
“Fall back to camp!” I holler.
Seconds later my Shadow appears. He'd been gone this whole time.
“Have you finally found a lass, Shadow?” I ask snidely.
The tall man stares blankly at me.
“Well either way, I've found one that needs watching. Don't let her speak, don't harm her, and bring her to camp.”
He nods once, sharply. For the first time I notice the Katzbalger, covered with blood, in his hand. He has it sheathed in a seconds, but the sight lingers.
He'd found a battle, somewhere. Or he'd just went hunting. Which sounds more logical, he hadn't cleaned the blade yet. I'll go with hunting.
I move my blade away from her neck. Within seconds he has her gagged and over his shoulder, completely ignoring the flailing legs.
I finally turn towards home. Who knows how much we have this trip. A possible source of ransom that I know I can't give up. Two witnesses that I told them to not kill. Plus at least one more headache coming from that bloody sword.
A long night indeed.
Another thing, if you have any questions or comments, please leave them below.
I'll gladly answer the questions, and treasure the comments.
Keep on Writing