Soooo, NaNoWriMo...
Nov. 7th, 2008 09:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
coyotegothAll right; I'm a bit behind, due to technical difficulties; however, here are the first 1,500 or so words of my novel. No idea if I'll actually finish the thing, but it's been fun so far- whoo, slow night at work!
(Please note that this has some- not too much- sword & arrow-type violence in it, in case you're particularly sensitive to that sort of thing.)
(And man, it's a small world sometimes...)
“The gods must truly love me,” said one of the two men leaning against the bridge, as he spat into the water. “They have graced me with such an opportunity for wealth, fame, adventure...”
“You could always join the merc crew who’re planning to sail the Neck,” replied his companion. “Plenty of adventure there- not to mention gold...”
The first man snorted. “Run a Taskian barricade? I’m not in need of a free burial at sea.” His companion merely grunted; they turned, and watched the farmers dotting the field for a few minutes.
“There’s a living for you,” the first man finally grunted. “Pulling food out of the dirt. Really makes you appreciate nature’s ways.”
“Makes me appreciate a soldier’s ways, rather- putting things into the dirt, for the worms to dig for. Talking of worms...” He paused, and looked around.
“Oh, him? Sent him on an errand, with those swordfodder friends of his. They’re getting supplies from the shop down the street- shouldn’t take more than half the day.”
“Gods, to think that I serve under a man who could father that,” the second man said. “Almost makes the Neck sound worthwhile.”
The first man scratched his chin. “How long we been garrisoned here?”
“Ten months,” said in a tone of resignation and overfamiliarity with the subject at hand.
“How much longer?”
“Two.”
“To hell with it,” said the first man, as he started across the bridge. “There’s only one good thing to come out of serving here, and I’m about to order a pint of it.”
*
“Give me that, Tharin,” said the redhead, as he snatched for the knife his companion was idly tossing and catching with one hand.
“God’s teeth, Joress!” Tharin snapped, yanking the knife back so that it slashed the air in front of the third man’s face.
“Gods, the pair of you!” the third man snarled. He was standing at the edge of a dropoff; a steep hill lay below. “Who needs Taskians or Serds, when we have our own troops ready and eager to spill Jadecki blood?”
“Aww- izzoo all upset because of a widdle booboo...?” said the redhead, as he mussed the third man’s hair. “Poor widdle Aleric...”
“Someday, Joress,” said Aleric through gritted teeth, “someday, I’ll forget whose son you are- and all I ask then is a sharp blade and a running start.”
“Oh?” said Joress, as his hand fell to his sword blade. “Well, if you...”
“Peace,” Tharin said. He wore a bow slung over his shoulder; it shifted as he looked ahead. “Serd coming- probably best if he doesn’t see us volunteering to fertilize his field.”
Joress turned, a smirk on his face; after a second, Aleric followed. Walking along the path toward them was a nondescrepit man, about fifty years old, bent under the weight of a heavy bag of potatoes. Joress puffed out his chest, and stood in the middle of the path.
“Halt!” he cried, when the man was within a few paces. The man paused, and came to a halt. “Yes?” he said in a resigned tone.
“Yes, sir,” replied Joress. “You’re addressing a soldier in her majesty’s forces, Serd.”
“As you will, sir,” the man prepared, starting to put his bundle down.
“I didn’t say to do that,” Joress said quickly; this was his favorite game. “I won’t have it said that her majesty’s forces are detaining the farmers whose work keeps us fed.”
“The fishermen do that, sir,” the farmer replied. “Our crops are for export.”
“Ooo- a scholar!” Joress said, turning to his companions. “We have a scholar in our midst!” He turned back to the farmer, who was shifting under the weight of his bag. “How many potatoes in that bag, scholar, to make it weigh you down so?”
“I didn’t count, sir,” said the farmer, shifting the bag again.
“Didn’t count?” Joress repeated. “Why, how will you ever know how much of an export tariff to pay?”
“I...”
Joress drew his own knife. “I have a solution- one the gods themselves would envy for its wisdom,” he said, as he reached for the bag. “Why don’t we just...”
The Serd stepped backward. “Let me pass,” the Serd said; there was a moment’s pause.
“What did you say?” Joress asked; Aleric put a hand on his arm.
“Leave it,” Aleric said. “You know what your father said about interfering with the locals.”
“Besides,” added Tharin, as he put a hand on Joress’s shoulder, “We have liberty tonight, and I’ve worked up a thirst. Let’s all go quench it.”
"All?" repeated Joress in disbelief. "You expect me to drink with a Serd?"
"What?" asked Tharin, momentarily confused. "No, that's not..."
"Bad enough I have to live with this vermin, and their stink," Joress said, "but drink with them, too? Never!" He lashed out, pushing the Serd so that he dropped his bag of potatoes, and tumbled down the hillside. Joress started laughing and pointing; Aleric grinned and shook his head. Tharin looked at the potatoes strewn across the road, and sighed. “I had liberty tonight...” he murmured to himself.
Aleric kicked at a potato. “Your father’s going to shit potatoes over this,” he said.
Joress snorted. “He won’t have anything to say about it; you two are both witnesses- that Serd was defying an officer of the watch, right?”
“Right,” Aleric said, grinning as he looked down the hill. Joress turned to Tharin.
“...and you saw it too, right? Right?”
“The Serd’s getting up,” Tharin said after a moment. The Serd staggered as he got to his feet; then, he started feeling through the grass at his feet.
“Are you all right?” Aleric called mockingly. “Take a bad step?”
“Serd, can you hear me?” Tharin cut in. “On behalf of her Majesty’s forces, I want to apologize for... ow!” He clapped a hand to his forehead, as a rock bounced off of his skull.
Joress’s eyes widened. “You... you Taskian!” he shouted, looking for something to throw; he lobbed a potato at the Serd, who was climbing the hillside steadily. Aleric joined in; the Serd lowered his head and kept climbing through a hail of potatoes.
“Dinnertime, Serd!” shouted Aleric, as a lucky shot bounced off the Serd’s head. Joress yanked Tharin to his feet; the other man groaned in pain.
“You saw that, didn’t you?” Joress shouted, as the Serd advanced upon him. “You did see that rock bounce off your head, right?”
“Stop yelling...” Tharin said, shaking his head. He put one hand to his forehead; it came away bloody.
“There- you see?” Joress said. “That was an assault! On her Majesty’s territorial guard! By a Serd!”
“All right, all right...” Tharin said grimly. He looked at the Serd, who had almost gained the road now. “Serd- do you surrender yourself to her Majesty’s forces?”
“What?” Joress shouted. “You saw it- that Serd assaulted one of her Majesty’s forces! You know the penalty!”
“Joress, I really don’t want...”
“Do your duty!” Joress shouted, one hand dropping to the hand of his sword. “I’m going to make an example of that Serd- and anyone else who denies my authority!”
Tharin muttered something inaudible, then reluctantly drew his bow and nocked an arrow. “Serd, may your journey to the next world be swift,” he said, releasing the arrow.
Joress threw back his head and laughed, as the Serd fell. “Well shot- get you a mug of ale for that one!” he said, clapping Tharin on the back. Tharin muttered something, backing away from Joress as he reslung the bow over his shoulder.
“Well, that was a fine demonstration of her Majesty’s might,” said Aleric, teeth flashing in the afternoon sun. “Now, let’s demonstrate something else, down at the ale...”
Suddenly, a rock smashed into his skull; he fell. Tharin backed away in shock, as Joress fumbled for his sword.
“You wanted our land,” the Serd called; the arrow protruded from his chest. “Well, there’s a piece of it.” He turned to Joress, who dropped the sword.
“Do something!” Joress shrieked to Tharin, as the Serd advanced. Suddenly, the Serd’s grabbed his throat; farmer’s muscles flexed, and Jorris’s neck snapped.
Tharin’s eyes widened; he fumbled for his bow, as the Serd looked over at him. Suddenly, the Serd grabbed the arrow's shaft with one hand, and pulled downward with the other; he winced, as the arrow’s shaft snapped, leaving a short protrusion sticking out of his chest. “That stung,” the Serd said to no one in particular. Then, he brandished the broken arrow like a dagger as he advanced on Tharin.
Tharin made an incoherent sound; he attempted to draw his bow, and somehow emptied his quiver onto the road. The Serd looked down at the cascade of arrows; his grin widened as he looked back at Tharin, and then took a step forward. Tharin shrieked, flung his bow and quiver at the Serd, and fled. The Serd stood for a moment, swaying slightly on his feet as the other man retreated. Then, he knelt, and began picking up arrows. “It’s a start,” he muttered to himself.
(Please note that this has some- not too much- sword & arrow-type violence in it, in case you're particularly sensitive to that sort of thing.)
(And man, it's a small world sometimes...)
“The gods must truly love me,” said one of the two men leaning against the bridge, as he spat into the water. “They have graced me with such an opportunity for wealth, fame, adventure...”
“You could always join the merc crew who’re planning to sail the Neck,” replied his companion. “Plenty of adventure there- not to mention gold...”
The first man snorted. “Run a Taskian barricade? I’m not in need of a free burial at sea.” His companion merely grunted; they turned, and watched the farmers dotting the field for a few minutes.
“There’s a living for you,” the first man finally grunted. “Pulling food out of the dirt. Really makes you appreciate nature’s ways.”
“Makes me appreciate a soldier’s ways, rather- putting things into the dirt, for the worms to dig for. Talking of worms...” He paused, and looked around.
“Oh, him? Sent him on an errand, with those swordfodder friends of his. They’re getting supplies from the shop down the street- shouldn’t take more than half the day.”
“Gods, to think that I serve under a man who could father that,” the second man said. “Almost makes the Neck sound worthwhile.”
The first man scratched his chin. “How long we been garrisoned here?”
“Ten months,” said in a tone of resignation and overfamiliarity with the subject at hand.
“How much longer?”
“Two.”
“To hell with it,” said the first man, as he started across the bridge. “There’s only one good thing to come out of serving here, and I’m about to order a pint of it.”
“Give me that, Tharin,” said the redhead, as he snatched for the knife his companion was idly tossing and catching with one hand.
“God’s teeth, Joress!” Tharin snapped, yanking the knife back so that it slashed the air in front of the third man’s face.
“Gods, the pair of you!” the third man snarled. He was standing at the edge of a dropoff; a steep hill lay below. “Who needs Taskians or Serds, when we have our own troops ready and eager to spill Jadecki blood?”
“Aww- izzoo all upset because of a widdle booboo...?” said the redhead, as he mussed the third man’s hair. “Poor widdle Aleric...”
“Someday, Joress,” said Aleric through gritted teeth, “someday, I’ll forget whose son you are- and all I ask then is a sharp blade and a running start.”
“Oh?” said Joress, as his hand fell to his sword blade. “Well, if you...”
“Peace,” Tharin said. He wore a bow slung over his shoulder; it shifted as he looked ahead. “Serd coming- probably best if he doesn’t see us volunteering to fertilize his field.”
Joress turned, a smirk on his face; after a second, Aleric followed. Walking along the path toward them was a nondescrepit man, about fifty years old, bent under the weight of a heavy bag of potatoes. Joress puffed out his chest, and stood in the middle of the path.
“Halt!” he cried, when the man was within a few paces. The man paused, and came to a halt. “Yes?” he said in a resigned tone.
“Yes, sir,” replied Joress. “You’re addressing a soldier in her majesty’s forces, Serd.”
“As you will, sir,” the man prepared, starting to put his bundle down.
“I didn’t say to do that,” Joress said quickly; this was his favorite game. “I won’t have it said that her majesty’s forces are detaining the farmers whose work keeps us fed.”
“The fishermen do that, sir,” the farmer replied. “Our crops are for export.”
“Ooo- a scholar!” Joress said, turning to his companions. “We have a scholar in our midst!” He turned back to the farmer, who was shifting under the weight of his bag. “How many potatoes in that bag, scholar, to make it weigh you down so?”
“I didn’t count, sir,” said the farmer, shifting the bag again.
“Didn’t count?” Joress repeated. “Why, how will you ever know how much of an export tariff to pay?”
“I...”
Joress drew his own knife. “I have a solution- one the gods themselves would envy for its wisdom,” he said, as he reached for the bag. “Why don’t we just...”
The Serd stepped backward. “Let me pass,” the Serd said; there was a moment’s pause.
“What did you say?” Joress asked; Aleric put a hand on his arm.
“Leave it,” Aleric said. “You know what your father said about interfering with the locals.”
“Besides,” added Tharin, as he put a hand on Joress’s shoulder, “We have liberty tonight, and I’ve worked up a thirst. Let’s all go quench it.”
"All?" repeated Joress in disbelief. "You expect me to drink with a Serd?"
"What?" asked Tharin, momentarily confused. "No, that's not..."
"Bad enough I have to live with this vermin, and their stink," Joress said, "but drink with them, too? Never!" He lashed out, pushing the Serd so that he dropped his bag of potatoes, and tumbled down the hillside. Joress started laughing and pointing; Aleric grinned and shook his head. Tharin looked at the potatoes strewn across the road, and sighed. “I had liberty tonight...” he murmured to himself.
Aleric kicked at a potato. “Your father’s going to shit potatoes over this,” he said.
Joress snorted. “He won’t have anything to say about it; you two are both witnesses- that Serd was defying an officer of the watch, right?”
“Right,” Aleric said, grinning as he looked down the hill. Joress turned to Tharin.
“...and you saw it too, right? Right?”
“The Serd’s getting up,” Tharin said after a moment. The Serd staggered as he got to his feet; then, he started feeling through the grass at his feet.
“Are you all right?” Aleric called mockingly. “Take a bad step?”
“Serd, can you hear me?” Tharin cut in. “On behalf of her Majesty’s forces, I want to apologize for... ow!” He clapped a hand to his forehead, as a rock bounced off of his skull.
Joress’s eyes widened. “You... you Taskian!” he shouted, looking for something to throw; he lobbed a potato at the Serd, who was climbing the hillside steadily. Aleric joined in; the Serd lowered his head and kept climbing through a hail of potatoes.
“Dinnertime, Serd!” shouted Aleric, as a lucky shot bounced off the Serd’s head. Joress yanked Tharin to his feet; the other man groaned in pain.
“You saw that, didn’t you?” Joress shouted, as the Serd advanced upon him. “You did see that rock bounce off your head, right?”
“Stop yelling...” Tharin said, shaking his head. He put one hand to his forehead; it came away bloody.
“There- you see?” Joress said. “That was an assault! On her Majesty’s territorial guard! By a Serd!”
“All right, all right...” Tharin said grimly. He looked at the Serd, who had almost gained the road now. “Serd- do you surrender yourself to her Majesty’s forces?”
“What?” Joress shouted. “You saw it- that Serd assaulted one of her Majesty’s forces! You know the penalty!”
“Joress, I really don’t want...”
“Do your duty!” Joress shouted, one hand dropping to the hand of his sword. “I’m going to make an example of that Serd- and anyone else who denies my authority!”
Tharin muttered something inaudible, then reluctantly drew his bow and nocked an arrow. “Serd, may your journey to the next world be swift,” he said, releasing the arrow.
Joress threw back his head and laughed, as the Serd fell. “Well shot- get you a mug of ale for that one!” he said, clapping Tharin on the back. Tharin muttered something, backing away from Joress as he reslung the bow over his shoulder.
“Well, that was a fine demonstration of her Majesty’s might,” said Aleric, teeth flashing in the afternoon sun. “Now, let’s demonstrate something else, down at the ale...”
Suddenly, a rock smashed into his skull; he fell. Tharin backed away in shock, as Joress fumbled for his sword.
“You wanted our land,” the Serd called; the arrow protruded from his chest. “Well, there’s a piece of it.” He turned to Joress, who dropped the sword.
“Do something!” Joress shrieked to Tharin, as the Serd advanced. Suddenly, the Serd’s grabbed his throat; farmer’s muscles flexed, and Jorris’s neck snapped.
Tharin’s eyes widened; he fumbled for his bow, as the Serd looked over at him. Suddenly, the Serd grabbed the arrow's shaft with one hand, and pulled downward with the other; he winced, as the arrow’s shaft snapped, leaving a short protrusion sticking out of his chest. “That stung,” the Serd said to no one in particular. Then, he brandished the broken arrow like a dagger as he advanced on Tharin.
Tharin made an incoherent sound; he attempted to draw his bow, and somehow emptied his quiver onto the road. The Serd looked down at the cascade of arrows; his grin widened as he looked back at Tharin, and then took a step forward. Tharin shrieked, flung his bow and quiver at the Serd, and fled. The Serd stood for a moment, swaying slightly on his feet as the other man retreated. Then, he knelt, and began picking up arrows. “It’s a start,” he muttered to himself.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-11-08 05:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-08 06:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-08 07:18 am (UTC)A non-dyslexic might be unfazed by it, but I had no idea what you meant by He wore a bow, for whatever reason, until further along. I'd stick in a short or long or some such for clarity, or wore a bow slung over his shoulder or something that makes it sound like he's not got a big ribbon on. heh.
no subject
Date: 2008-11-08 06:29 pm (UTC)