Here are a couple of snippets from my latest venture, The Dragon Bstirvm.
Usually
I sat in the corner of the smithy and watched Father work as I sewed or
knitted. There was always a good deal of
sewing and knitting to be done, and as I was not particularly adventurous, I
felt that there was no need to go out and roam the city streets with my other
brothers and sisters.
Father
always said that I was a shadow, a slight thing that nobody noticed. He did not particularly favor me above the
other children, nor did he ever seem to notice that I spent hours in the corner
of the dark, low room where he worked.
In
fact, I was fascinated by fire. It
almost hypnotized me. Never could I see
a flame but it drew me to itself, beckoned me with its lurid flicker, and grasped
at my mind with glowing fingers. The
smithy fire altered the whole dark cellar, turning it into some pit of enchantment
from which I could hardly bear to tear myself.
~ The Dragon Bstirvm
I should probably add that this book is told from the perspective of Majay Mistrocoli, who lives in the royal city of Rusa.
My king’s name was King Edwin XIII. I know not why that name survived for
thirteen generations. I would have
extinguished it long ere the first. Yet
that was his name, and, let us be frank, he was rather mediocre as kings go. I am not fond of speaking so of my leader, but
the truth is the truth. King Edwin was
quite a disappointment, especially since his father had been a wise and
generous king, beloved by all of his people for his benevolence and
understanding. King Edwin was not
particularly cruel, as kings go, and Charantè had certainly seen baser monarchs
in the course of its long existence, but he did make many foolish
decisions. For instance, he always tried
to please everybody.
~ The Dragon Bstirvm
I
reached the tavern and had to step over a man slumbering in the doorway, the
smell of strong ale emanating from his damp garments in a thick, choking
reek. I pressed my hand over my mouth
and clutched the spits tightly under my other arm. The sights and sounds from inside the tavern
oppressed my senses. A raucous song
reverberated from the low ceiling, and men laughed and jostled each other as
they swayed drunkenly to the music. I
wished that my older brothers were still living at home so that I would not
have had to come to this place. It was
rather unfortunate that every last one of them was wed.
The proprietor of the tavern leaned
over the counter and leered at me. I saw
not a greasy, doughy man but an ogre preparing to leap among the rioters and
devour them up. Trembling, I held out
the spits to him.
“Mistrocoli made these for you as
ordered,” I said.
The man did not snarl at me as I
half-expected him to do. Instead he
waddled out from behind the counter and took the spits from me.
~ The Dragon Bstirvm
Thanks for reading and God bless,
Kathryn
Oh, I enjoyed these! I think I will end up liking your main character. She, she correct?, seems believable. Not the typical heroine who dashes about with a sword and stabs everyone who crosses her path, but a bit fearful who is doing what must be done in spite of her fear.
ReplyDeleteJack and her sardine, Nemo
I enjjoyed those! Especially the first one. Anyone who is drawn to fire is bound to be a cool character like Dustfinger from Inkheart.
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