Sederan Tales

The next few days were a jumble of training, questions, and history lessons with varying degrees of tension. Bertram quickly discovered how much pent-up anger Alenard had toward the Ardellian military and worked his best to diffuse it when he could. Granted, most of his anger was well-deserved; but it was not as focused or well-directed as Bertram felt it should have been.

At this moment, Alenard was sitting down at a quiet table in the Prince’s Gamble tavern, having a drink at Bertram’s request. He found that their most civil conversations took place over large tankards of ale. He was also exhausted after a long day of hard training. Though Alenard was nowhere near Bertram’s level of skill, he certainly matched him in endurance.

“So there’s really no defined moral code in Sederan religion?” Bertram asked.

Alenard laughed. “No, that’s not it—there are eight.”

“And you’re just free to choose whichever one you want?”

“Well, that depends on who you ask,” Alenard asking, setting his tankard down on the bar. “The goal is to be a strong soul. Strong souls get reused. Idle souls move onto Hell, a place of nothingness. But some people feel that their god’s ideology is inherently stronger than others. You can guess where that line of thought leads.”

“And you just sit down and talk about this?” Bertram said, taking a long swig of his ale.

Alenard shook his head. “No,” he said. “We fight about it all the time. Sometimes there are schisms, sometimes rebellions. But we always come back to the fact that all eight gods make us stronger as a nation and a culture. Even a Lyrenite has to admit that society is better for its Malechites.”

Bertram shook his head. “That’s far more progressive than I was taught,” he said. “The Ardellian people could all benefit from a few drinks with some Sederans.”

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“It’ll take about five days to reach Crater Lake,” Alenard said, pointing west at a crossroads in a densely wooded area where his group was stopped. “The trees will thin out once you get out of the these woods and there will be more towns.”

“And what’s your plan?” asked Katelain.

“We’ll reconnect with Djinly and fill her in on everything that’s happened,” Alenard responded.

“You’re sure you don’t need me here?” Petra asked.

Bertram shook his head. “We should be fine. Any questions I can’t answer can wait until you get back,” he said.

“Thank you,” Katelain said. She then turned to Petra. “And thank you, for coming with me.”

“I’ve been wanting to learn more about Sederan magic anyway, and I hear Crater Lake is the best place to do that,” he responded.

“We’ll meet up at the Prince’s Gamble in two weeks,” Alenard said.

“Alright,” Katelain said. “I’ll have Rex with me when I come back. See you in two weeks.”

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Djinly sat in a dark corner of the Sly Vagrant tavern, quietly watching the night’s action wind down over her fifth glass of wine. A cloaked figure walked in and she quickly looked up at it. The figure pulled the cloak down to reveal a man’s face, no doubt a traveler out too late and eager to turn in for the night. Djinly averted her eyes to the crackling fireplace which was still going strong.

She began to think she was premature in sending Lenus in for the documents. She thought back to their first encounter in Amalia. Lenus was a scared girl peddling fine clothing to drunkards—a far cry from the fearless woman she needed to be. But still, Lenus had come so far in so few months. The ability to do meant less than the ability to learn quickly, and tenacity certainly counted for something.

Lenus strode in quickly, spotting Djinly before Djinly spotted her. Lenus marched up to her and put her hands down on the table she was sitting at, not bothering to sit down.

“Do you have the documents?” Djinly asked.

“No,” Lenus said, “they were probably burned, since we set the manor on fire, but—”

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Two guards dragged Lenus toward a dungeon cell, one holding each arm. She scowled, but her body remained mostly limp. She had given up on struggling for fear of being struck again. They had stripped her down to her undergarments and she didn’t want to provoke them to go any further.

They stopped at the door to a cell. A guard opened the door with a key and the other threw Lenus down against the cold stone floor. She landed hard with a yelp followed by a pained sigh. She was barely able to catch herself, and unable to prevent some sizable scrapes on her knees.

“We’ll deal with you in the morning,” one of the guards said.

Lenus stood up and violently clutched the cell bars, pressing her face against them. She stood, seething and glaring at the two guards as they disappeared up the stairs. After they had gone, she sat down on the cell floor with her back against the wall and pulled her knees up close to her.

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The sun had set and the moon had risen, but the night was cloudy, giving Lenus patches of darkness in which to act. At the moment, she wasn’t acting—she was merely observing, from the shadowy cover of a nearby patch of trees, remnants of a forest that had been cut back for city growth.

The manor itself was very large—obviously a duke’s manor, not a count’s. It looked more like a small fortress than a large house. The tall walls were made of large grey bricks that looked very sturdy. It was two stories and most likely had a sizable basement as well.

Two guards were posted at the back door to the manor. Both were armored and armed with swords, and neither looked particularly dim-witted, as Lenus was used to dealing with. Additionally, three guards were stationed at the front entrance and a guard with a bow patrolled a balcony which surrounded the entire manor. She had to distract the two guards at the back entrance without drawing any attention from the other guards.

Lenus watched the clouds overhead. They were moving slowly, but predictably. A large cloud was almost in place to block out the moonlight, which would give her the cover she needed. She had a plan and prayed to the gods that it would work.

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“Concentrate,” said Djinly, arms crossed and waiting impatiently.

“I am concentrating!” Lenus asserted.

They were standing in an empty field that had once been used for crops, but had been overgrown with weeds and other plants. The faint smell of wheat and a few fence posts were all that remained of the field’s previous life. Now, it served as a great hiding place, away from the prying eyes of the public, including passing Ardellian military. It also served as a great place to learn to use magic.

“You’re not concentrating if you’re talking,” Djinly scolded.

Lenus gave a soft but clear groan and looked straight ahead again, narrowing her eyes.

“Picture the image in your head,” Djinly instructed, “then focus, focus.”

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So I totally geeked out over my characters a few days ago and drew up a list of what bands each of them would listen to if they were alive today. I don’t know if this is something all writers do, but I kind of doubt it. Some interesting finds:

• Rex is a total hipster: Deathcab for Cutie and The Smiths made her list.
• Arlia likes the Beatles and Arcade Fire.
• Bertram is our classic rock guy.
• Petra, on the other hand, is old school: Johnny Cash and Emmy Lou Harris.
• Lenus is a big fan of the Dropkick Murphys.

In writing news, I just finished another story of five chapters. Unfortunately, it’s not the one that’s chronologically next, so I won’t be posting it until I’ve posted one or two others. I’m very happy with the way it turned out, though, and look forward to putting it up here.

I’m going to try to work on the (chronologically) next story so I can get that up here. If you don’t know, all of the major characters from previous stories are coming back, and their stories are going to be intertwining. This is something I started doing toward the end of the last set of stories, but I get to do it right from the start with this set, now that introductions are over.

Thanks for reading!

The first eBook is finished and is available for FREE download on the eBooks page*! I went through all of the chapters thus far and made some minor edits to them. Read it, and please give me your feedback on the new Contact page!

* The eBook is now available in Kindle and Nook formats. (The Nook format will work on most other eReaders as well.)

Katelain awoke to some minor commotion next to her. The sun had just risen, but Petra and Bertram were already up. Each had picked over the clothes from the attackers the night before and found something to wear over their distinctive Ardellian military outfits. They had also found a stream and filled a pot with water.

“Well,” Alenard said, “we’re all still alive. That’s step one toward a good partnership!”

“Petra, I have to know,” Katelain said, still slightly groggy. “Why do Ardellians hate Sederans so?”

Petra sighed. He did not turn to face her.

“Good morning, Katelain,” Bertram said patronizingly.

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The pair of former lieutenants stayed well outside of town until long after dark, their men gone ahead of them to deliver the bad news and gather up a few days’ worth of provisions. The hours were mostly silent as the weight of their decisions began to sink in. Two entire lives’ worth of aspirations, gone in a day.

After the moon had risen, they decided it would be safe to go and wait for their support—probably the last support they would see for some time. As they neared town, Bertram’s curiosity compelled him to speak.

“So what now?” Bertram asked.

“I don’t know yet,” Petra responded. “Lay low for a few days, maybe find a small town to start over.”

Bertram nodded silently. He hated not knowing where he was heading. He turned over various scenarios in his mind. He had always been a soldier, save for the time he was training to be one. He had no other trade. He was at a loss as all of the scenarios he constructed in his head ended badly.

Bertram sighed heavily and slumped his shoulders. “But what will we do?” he asked.

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