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12-01-2011 04:52 PM |
Eilia -- Linear Chapter 1?
We are considering a change in format for the story of Eilia. It would involve less flashback and moving more linear. What do you think of this as the first chapter? ROUGH, ROUGH, ROUGH DRAFT!!!!!!!
Squeak...one half rotation of the cart’s wheel; slap, one sole hitting the ground; step, the rest of the shoe one second later. Squeak. . . slap . . . step . . . squeak . . . slap . . . step . . . a slow progression of sound moving along the path. Though the birds had already started their morning calls, the forest listened, in silence, as it passed through in search of its quarry.
A cacophony of voices assaulted her ears as she stood in the throne room awaiting the arrival of King Brugher. ”Karin." The hand on her shoulder plus the voice of her beloved was enough for her to excuse herself from the inane chatter of the circle of ladies surrounding her.
“Thank you, Keirn!” she whispered to her life partner. “One more minute of that nonsense…” Lady Karin looked into the face of her love and saw what she’d dreaded for weeks. “It’s time, isn’t it?” Her heart sank and eyes began to tear as he sadly nodded his head.
Keirn took her aside to a relatively deserted corner of the Throne Room and whispered to her. “Remember, what we discussed. This isn’t just to save my life. Your life and Brinn’s are in danger also. I can feel it getting ever closer…”
“We wouldn’t be in danger if you had stopped using of the Craft!” she whispered back.
Squeak, slap, step…one old man pushing a cart loaded with bundles, one squeak per step, one half rotation of the cart’s wheel. Early morning travelers, on the path to the palace, noticed only the squeaky wheel. They didn’t see the tattered clothing or the too long shoes tied on the old man’s feet with rags, it wasn’t an uncommon costume amongst them.
“Be that as it may, there’s no use in assigning blame now! The Siiker draws near. I must leave now!”
Lady Karin dabbed at the tears in her eyes with a perfumed kerchief. “What am I to say? We are not to leave without permission of the King. He will send the Patrol after you!”
“You will say, just as we’ve rehearsed, I went to the Necessary and never came back. You haven’t heard from me since. It will be the truth,” Keirn replied.
“But…”
“No buts, no arguments, no farewells. The Patrol will know if you speak an untruth. This is the only way.”
“But…Keirn…”
“What, my love?”
“May I say I love you?”
“Yes, that’s permissible. Kiss me! I must go to the Necessary!”
Squeak, slap, step…one old man, in dirty, tattered garb, pushes an overburdened cart with a wheel in need of greasing. An old woman, carrying a sack much too large for her, precedes the old man and the cart.
They kissed a slow, soft farewell and Keirn left his love behind as he went into the hallway outside of the Throne room. The guard outside the doors watched as Keirn walked toward the Necessary with a quick step which was unmistakable. The guard smiled. Quite a few lords and ladies had been using that step as of late.
Keirn cracked open the door of the room after a believable amount of groans and watched the guard as he talked as he talked to Lady Karin. He had not expected her to distract the guard for him but realized it was the best thing to do. He’d planned to use the Craft to distract the guard but the Siiker would’ve honed in on that use and captured both him and his family before he’d had a chance to lure it away from them.
Step…step…squeak, slap, step…one old woman, in a tattered gown, wearing shoes tied on with rags, walks two steps, no more no less, ahead of the old man pushing the overburdened cart with a wheel crying out for grease. No one noticed the old woman, with a much too heavy sack slung over her back. Too many morning travelers, along the path, dressed the same and carried the same amount of burdens.
Even now, he could feel the Siiker’s probe trying to enter his mind. It was no longer safe for him to be near the palace. He must leave now or it would be too late. Keirn glanced once more at the woman he couldn’t take with him, slid out of the room and walked quietly toward their quarters.
Step…step…squeak, slap, step…two old people, an old man pushing a cart with a squeaky wheel, an old woman, half bent under a heavy sack. Both dressed in tattered clothing with shoes tied on their feet. Other travelers, along the path, paid them no heed, some carried or pushed burdens just as heavy. None, however, saw the strange, dim glow appear just above the bundles in the cart…
Keirn hurried down the corridor next to the door of the living quarters he shared with Lady Karin and their five year old daughter, Brinn. Rushing through the sitting room, he was glad to see his daughter and her body servant, Jossa, weren't there. He rushed past the closed door of her sleeproom to the room he shared with his life partner.
Keirn ran around the bed and stopped in front of a tapestry hanging on the wall. Holding up his left hand before the wall hanging, the scene depicted changed from King Brugher to that of the true royal family. Keirn moved aside the tapestry enough to reveal a small cubbyhole and the carryall he’d hidden there days before.
The Siiker’s probe grew stronger. There was no more time, but he needed to sneak one last peek at his daughter. He picked up the carryall, placed it on the bed behind him, dropped the tapestry back in its place and changed the picture back to King Brugher. Anyone, without the Craft, would find only a blank wall behind the tapestry.
An old man and old woman, in tattered clothing, shoes tied to their feet with rags. Though there were many other travelers on the path that morning, no one thought to help them with their burdens. No one, especially those in coaches, whose guards pushed all walking traffic to the side of the path, saw the growing glow hovering over the cart, or the slight upward curve of the old man’s lips.
Keirn told himself there wasn’t much time left, that stopping, even to peek into his daughter’s sleeproom would be too many seconds too long. That didn’t matter to him. He had to see his daughter one last time. Keirn lifted the damask curtain which covered the open doorway of her room. He smiled as he saw Brinn playing “Court” with her favorite dolls and Jossa.
“Have you come to seek a boon?” Her high, childish voice carried across the room to him. Brinn was seated on her bed, her back to the door, dolls facing her. Jossa, on her knees, was opening her mouth to speak when she spied Keirn peeking in. Keirn put a finger to his lips and shook his head to indicate he didn’t want Brinn to know he was there. Only a few seconds ticked by during that exchange but it was more time than he could spare…
An old man and old woman, in tattered garb, with shoes too large for their feet tied on with rags. Both overburdened but ignored by those just as weighed down walking the same path to the palace. Joined by more travelers as they drew closer to their objective, no one noticed the old man’s toothless smile or the glow above the cart with the wheel in need of grease.
Keirn’s feet fairly flew along the lower corridors of the palace. He’d changed into servant’s garb before leaving his sleeproom. Affecting a harried, servile posture, no one noticed his passage. Once, before the false king and The Five took control, royalty came and went as they pleased from the palace. Now, only tradesmen and servants moved in and out of the gate freely.
The guard, at the East gate, with the sun shining in their eyes, saw only his crude garb and waved him through. Hitching the carryall up higher on his shoulder, he stopped at the crossroad to listen for the particular squeak and the extra sound of the Siiker’s cart wheel. Extending the reach of his hearing, the sound finally came to him from his left. Keirn took the path to his right. He smiled as the probe lessened with each step he took away from the palace and the Siikers.
One old man in tattered garb, his shoes tied on his feet with rags, pushed an overburdened cart with a wheel in need of greasing. One old woman walked two steps before it, no more no less, half bent under the weight of the heavy sack on her back, the tattered hem of her gown, so ragged it no longer touched the tops of the shoes tied on her feet with rags. None of the other travelers on the path noticed the glow above the cart slowly fade away or the Siiker’s toothless smile disappear…
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