I’m excited that The Collar and the Cavvarach is now available for purchase! Want to see if you’ll like it? Read on to sample the first chapter. (Want to know what the collar is for and what a cavvarach actually is first? Click here to open up a brief explanation in a new window.)
Chapter One: Before You Get a Collar
Everything was quiet in the next room, had been quiet for at least half an hour. Bensin pressed his ear against the wall again, and this time he heard the sound he had been waiting for: faint, rhythmic snores. Perfect. Mr. Creghorn always slept the soundest when he was snoring, and that meant that Mrs. Creghorn would probably have her earplugs in.
Bensin rose from the mattress he had been kneeling on, stretching his stiff limbs. Fishing in his pocket, he pulled out the two paperclips he had straightened and then re-bent near the ends. He felt his way across the dark room to the door, ran his hands over the handle till he found the keyhole, and inserted the first paperclip. Though he could hardly see anything anyway, he closed his eyes to concentrate as he inserted the second one, raking it in and out to work his makeshift lock pick the way Ricky had taught him. The metallic clickety-clicketyseemed horribly loud in the quiet house, but there was nothing to be done except hope his owners were truly sleeping soundly.
Finally he felt the last pin rise out of the way. With the first paperclip, he turned the lock, and with a quick twist of the handle, the door swung open.
I did it! Grinning in triumph, Bensin tiptoed through the doorway, down the carpeted hall, past the bedroom where Mr. Creghorn was snoring away, past the baby’s room, and into the living room. As softly as he could, he slid back the deadbolt on the front door and found the keyhole. The clickety-clickety seemed even louder now, and he held his breath, wondering if anyone would hear.
But the only other sound was the ticking of the clock on the wall above the couch. Turning the handle to make sure the front door was really unlocked, Bensin dared to breathe again.
Pocketing his paperclips, he tiptoed back into the bedroom and pulled the door shut once more. Then he hurried over to the other mattress and shook his little sister gently by the shoulder. “Ellie, wake up!”
In the darkness, Ellie rolled over. “Hmm?”
“Wake up,” he repeated softly. “We’re leaving!”
She sat up, catching the urgency in his voice. “What do you mean?”
“We’re escaping. Here, put your shoes and sweater on.” He was already wearing his own sneakers, uncomfortably tight at the toes since the Creghorns didn’t believe in buying shoes for slaves very often. He bent to pick up the light jacket he had left at the foot of his mattress. Though it still got warm in the middle of the day, nights were cool at this time of the year in Jarreon.
“The Creghorns are asleep,” he told his sister as he thrust his arms through the sleeves, “and I’ve got the door open. You’re going to be free tonight!”
“But it didn’t work last time,” she protested, fumbling in the dark to put on the clothes he handed her. “And they were really mad.”
“I know, but I have a better plan this time. And with it being New Year, I figure most of the City Watch will have the night off, so we won’t be spotted as easily.”
“But what if they catch us again?”
“Then you just look small and cute like you’re so good at, and you’ll have nothing to worry about. You’re too little to lash.” He hoped.
“Can I bring Bunny?” She reached for the stuffed rabbit Mom had made before Ellie was even born.
“Of course. Here, I’ll carry him in my pocket for you. Now come on, and be quiet.”
Her little fingers tightened around his as he led the way out of their bedroom, pausing to close the door silently behind them. They tiptoed down the hallway and through the living room, and he eased the front door open. Outside, he led her down the steps and along the walkway.
The front gate creaked loudly, and Bensin winced. Ducking, he pulled Ellie down with him into the shadows behind the low fence and then froze again. But there was no sound from the house, and no lights went on behind the Creghorns’ bedroom window. Last night they had stayed up past midnight to welcome in the New Year, so he knew they had been extra tired tonight. Good.
Bensin rose to his feet and he and Ellie slipped out onto the sidewalk, a cool breeze ruffling their hair. From the tight clutch of her fingers around his, he could tell that his sister was scared, but she knew better than to make a sound.
The street was still and empty, but that didn’t mean anything. You never knew when a City Watch officer might pass by on patrol. The moon was hidden behind a thick layer of cloud, but the street lamps gave plenty of light. Strings of colorful New Year’s lights twined their way along fences and around the trunks and lower branches of trees, making it harder to find dark places to hide in.
Trying to avoid the light as much as possible, Bensin steered Ellie along the edge of the sidewalk, hugging the shadows of the neighbors’ hedges, darting across the well-lit areas. At the end of the block, he turned left. Partway down the street, he crossed to the opposite side, quickly pulling Ellie across the open space. There were fewer shadows to hide in here, but he knew a couple of the families on the other side kept dogs. The last thing he needed was for them to start barking and alert the neighborhood to the presence of two runaway slaves. When he was sure they were well past, he led his sister back across the street, thankful for some unadorned trees that gave some protection from the street lights.
“Where are we going?” Ellie whispered, breaking the silence.
“To the park, first,” Bensin whispered back. “We can talk there. Now shh.”
They hurried on in silence, Bensin darting wary glances at the houses on either side. In addition to the glowing New Year’s decorations, many had porch lights on for safety, with an occasional nightlight gleaming through bedroom curtains. But as far as he could tell, no one was awake; no one heard them pass. Probably they were all dead to the world in their beds, sleeping off their New Year’s dinners, dreaming about the gifts they had received from friends and family and their hopes for the coming year.
I know what the year 154 will hold. Freedom for Ellie. Bensin could endure anything himself if only his little sister could be free and safe. That was the best, the only New Year’s gift he wanted.
Turning a final corner, they saw the neighborhood park at the end of the block. Ahead, street lamps and houses gave way to dark open space. “Almost there,” he whispered encouragingly.
They crossed the street one more time to avoid another dog. Beyond the last of the houses, concrete became grass beneath their shoes. There wasn’t much cover here, with trees standing only around the edge. Bensin pulled Ellie after him at a run, aiming for the playground in the center. He was thankful there were no lights, but anyone looking out a window in one of those last few houses would see them darting across the grass.
The playground loomed before them, beckoning like the safe haven he hoped it would be. He led Ellie past the swings, drifting back and forth a little in the night breeze, to the tallest slide. The platform at the top was covered; they could rest there for a few minutes and not be seen.
“I don’t want to play right now,” his sister objected, panting, at the base of the ladder. “I’m too scared.”
“We’re not going to play. I’m going to explain our plan up there where no one will see or hear us.”
He followed her to the top, pulling his feet out of the too-tight shoes as they sat across from each other on the narrow platform. The twisty slide spun away to his right and the ladder dropped down to the left, but here at the top stood a sheltered island of safety. The City Watch, if they passed by on patrol, wouldn’t see them in the shadows under the domed plastic roof.
Lightning flickered from far off across the city, and Ellie scooted closer to him. “Is it gonna rain?”
“Probably not.” Rainstorms were rare in Jarreon. Only slightly less rare were the dry storms that sent dark clouds roiling across the usually clear sky, bringing thunder and lightning and unfulfilled threats.
And change. Mom had told him that stormy skies were a sign that change was coming. The weather had been just like this the day Ellie was born.
“Your life is about to change,” he told his sister as thunder grumbled in the distance. He grinned, knowing she would hear it in his voice even if she couldn’t see it. “We’re going to make you free! You’re going to live with a mom and dad who love you, and maybe some brothers and sisters too; and you’ll get to go to school — real school, not slave school — where you’ll not only learn how to read and write, but all sorts of other fun things. You’ll never have to wear a collar or be lashed, and no one will ever force you to wake up early to feed the baby or change his diapers, or yell at you if he cries. And someday when you grow up, you’ll be free to get a proper job — whatever kind you like — and earn money, and buy whatever you want, and maybe get married and have your own children if you feel like it. They’ll never be sold away from you, and you can do whatever you want with your own life!”
“That’s what you said last time.” Ellie refused to be impressed. “But it didn’t work.”
“I told you, I have a better plan this time. Last time we tried to go too far. The orphanage is miles away; I should have known we wouldn’t make it before it got light and the Watch caught us. But this time we’re only going to a City Watch station. I’ve been talking to Ricky, and I know how it works now. When free kids have problems, they can talk to a Watch Officer, and he or she will help them. If the Watch officers think you’re free and you don’t have any parents, they’ll find foster parents for you.” At least, Ricky had been pretty sure that was the way it worked. “We don’t have to go all the way to an orphanage for that.”
“But I thought the Watch station is the other way.”
“There are lots of stations in Jarreon. The one they took us to last time is the other way, but we’re not going there. I don’t want to risk anyone recognizing you. Besides, when they find out you’re gone, that’s the station the Creghorns will probably call, ’cause they’ve talked to the officers there before. So we’re going to a different one. I looked it up when we were in the library the other day, and I know how to get there now.”
“But I don’t like the Watch. They lashed you last time.”
“Yeah, but it didn’t hurt. You know that. When you’re as strong as I am, hardly anything hurts.” Bensin pushed up the sleeves of his light jacket, flexing his muscles for her to see. “Grr! You know how tough I am!”
She giggled. “Okay, but what are you gonna tell them when we get there? They’ll know we’re running away.”
“No, they won’t. Since you don’t have a collar yet, they’ll have no reason to think you’re a slave. You’re going to tell them that you have no parents and nowhere to live, and then they’ll take care of you until they find a nice family for you to live with.”
“But what about you?”
Here came the part she wouldn’t like. “They won’t see me. I’ll take you as close to the station as I can, but you’ll have to go knock on the door without me.”
Ellie drew in her breath, and her next words came out in a wail. “But I can’t do it by myself! I don’t wanna go without you!”
Reaching out, he took both her hands in his. “You have to be brave, Ellie. This is the only way it will work.”
“But I want you to be free with me!”
“I know, and I will be.” Maybe. “But not yet. The moment they see my collar, they’ll know I’m a runaway slave, just like before. This is probably our last chance, because I heard Mrs. Creghorn saying the other day that you’re old enough you should be wearing a collar too now.”
Ellie pulled a hand free from his and reached over to finger the cold circle of steel around his neck. “I always wonder what it’s like to wear one. Is it that bad?”
“Yeah, it is. Before you get a collar, people don’t always know if you’re a slave or not. But when you have one, it’s obvious. Everyone looks at you different, talks to you different, like you’re an animal and not a person. When free people ask your name or who your owner is, usually they don’t even wait for you to answer before they grab your collar tag to read it for themselves. Sometimes if they really want to be mean, they even call you ‘collar’. And I can’t pick the lock on my collar; I’ve tried I don’t know how many times. So if you’re going to escape, it has to be before you get one.”
She nodded, but she still looked sad. “Don’t worry, though,” he assured her. “Once you’re free and safe, I’ll work on all my days off and save all my money — every last sliver — until I have enough to buy my own freedom. Then I’ll come and find you, and we’ll both be free and happy together.”
Ellie sniffed, and he could tell she was trying not to cry. He squeezed her hand. “When you were only one day old, I promised Mom that I would take care of you and that I would make sure you were free someday.” He had also promised to teach her to be strong and brave, but he hadn’t made much progress yet in that area.
She wiped her cheeks with her sleeve. “I’ll get a job first thing and start saving up all my money too. And then I’ll buy your freedom right away and we can live together again.”
Free kids don’t get jobs. At least not when they’re five. But Bensin rose to his knees and reached over to hug her. “What a great idea! I knew you’d think of something smart like that. Now come on, it’s time to go.”
She scooted over to the slide and pushed off. Though Bensin knew he was too big, he squeezed onto it and spiraled his way down behind her.
He had often brought her to the park to play on their days off. Something inside him clenched up at the thought that he would never come here with his sister again, never hear her laughing and calling out to him as she zoomed down the slides or while he pushed her on the swings. But he couldn’t let himself dwell on that. If she ever came to this park again, it would be as a free girl with a new family. I’m keeping my promise, Mom.
Taking her hand in his again, he ran with her toward the shelter of the trees at the edge of the playing field as lightning flickered once more. “And remember,” he told her in a low voice, “you can’t ever tell anyone you were a slave. Don’t ever talk about it with a single person — not the Watch Officers, not your new family, not your friends, not the teacher in your school. If they find out, they’ll make you a slave again.”
The two of them hurried down another residential street, still keeping to the shadows as much as possible. Bensin tried not to let himself think about all that might go wrong. And even if everything goes right, Mr. Creghorn will bring out the Motivator and lash me within an inch of my life tomorrow. Of course Bensin would pretend he didn’t know where his sister had gone, but of course his owner wouldn’t believe a word of it. It didn’t matter, though. Let him do his worst. I’ll die before I tell. No matter what they did to him, it would be worth it.
In the distance, he could hear the sound of traffic. “The next street is a busier one,” he warned Ellie in a whisper. “There will be cars, so we’ll have to be extra careful to stay out of sight.” Watch Officers were more likely to patrol there, too. He would have to keep a sharp lookout.
They crept along the new street, Bensin bent nearly double, staying in the shadows of the low brick wall that ran along the front of people’s yards. Every time he heard a car coming, he dragged his sister toward the nearest bush or parked car, crouching behind it with her until the vehicle had passed. If only there were another way we could go. But the only other routes he knew would take them far out of their way.
Three blocks down, they came to the little shopping center where Mrs. Creghorn sometimes sent him to buy groceries. Most of the buildings were dark, but the parking lot was well lit, and he could see lights on in the all-night pharmacy. The Happy New Year sign in their window was flashing red and gold.
“We’ll go around the edge,” he whispered, thankful for the thick hedge that bordered the parking lot.
They were less than halfway around when he heard footsteps approaching, loud in the stillness. Ellie gasped, and he turned and slid his hand over her mouth before she could make a sound that would give them away. “Get down,” he breathed, and pushed her gently to the ground at the base of the hedge. He dropped beside her, shielding her body with his, and the two of them lay there where the shadows were darkest, holding their breath.
The footsteps drew closer. Bensin didn’t dare turn his head, but out of the corner of his eye he could see a pair of black boots below the dark blue pants of a Watch officer’s uniform. The man was walking past the buildings with measured steps, a flashlight in hand. From time to time he swung the beam of the light back and forth across the parking lot.
If he shines it this way, he’ll see us for sure. Bensin squeezed his arm more tightly around his sister’s shoulders, willing her to stay silent. He could feel her little body trembling.
The officer drew closer, and Bensin could see the sidearm in its holster at his belt. I bet I’m a better fighter than he is. But the thought gave him no comfort. If they both had cavvarachs, he could probably beat the officer in a duel, but that wouldn’t help him now. He was unarmed; and anyway, a cavvarach, perfect for close-quarters combat, was no match for a gun. Besides, you couldn’t fight a Watch officer. Not unless you were looking for a death sentence.
Of course, the death penalty was the consequence for a slave who attacked any free person. Mr. Creghorn loved to remind Bensin of that, but Bensin was sure that law wasn’t always enforced. Who wanted to waste a valuable slave when you could just sell him to someone else?
“Is it the Watch?” Ellie whispered.
“Shh!” He should have kept a hand over her mouth. Had the officer heard? The man turned toward them, but he was still some distance away, and it was impossible to guess anything from his expression. The flashlight scrutinized the parking lot, asphalt and painted lines and occasional scattered trash appearing in its sweeping beam. Bensin waited for it to flash across his face, but the officer pointed it the other way, examining the space between two buildings.
And then he was gone. The blue uniform disappeared around a corner, and the sound of footsteps faded.
Bensin released his grip on Ellie and rose to his hands and knees. “Get up, but keep quiet. Yes, it was a Watch officer, and he’s just around the corner. We’re going to stay in the shadows and crawl in case he comes back.”
He led the way along the hedge, keeping its comforting darkness at their right, the open parking lot stretching away to the left, the buildings beyond. They reached the corner and turned, still crawling. We’re halfway around.
“My knees hurt,” whispered Ellie from behind him. “Rocks and things are poking them.” The officer was nowhere in sight, so Bensin stopped to let her rest. “What if he comes back and sees us?”
“If he sees you, just tell him what I told you to say: that you don’t have any home or parents. As long as he doesn’t see me, you’ll be fine.”
“But what if he sees us both?”
“That’s why we’re staying in the shadows. Now come on.”
Bensin breathed a sigh of relief when they completed their circuit of the shopping center without spotting the officer again. He must have gone off to patrol somewhere else. “We can stand up again, as long as we stay away from the light,” he told Ellie. “We’ve got two more blocks to go on this road.”
They were nearly to their next turn when they passed a gate behind which a large dog stood, wide awake and watching the street. Bensin didn’t see it in time, and it burst into furious barking.
They both jumped, and Ellie shrieked in alarm, immediately clapping a hand over her own mouth. “Sorry!” she whispered through her fingers.
“Run!” Bensin grabbed her arm and dragged her past the gate, the dog still shattering the night with its barking. A van was parked by the curb a few houses ahead. He dashed toward it, sister in tow. “Scoot under,” he ordered, just as a porch light flicked on.
Flinging himself to the ground, he wriggled forward on his belly, his dangling collar tag scraping over the asphalt and the back of his jacket snagging against the van’s undercarriage. Ellie followed, and the two of them lay there on the cold ground, listening. From inside the house, a woman’s voice called to the dog.
Ellie reached for Bensin’s hand as a door opened. “What’s the matter?” they heard the woman say. “There’s no one here. You barking at stray cats again?”
The dog gave one last wuff and went silent. They could hear its owner walking around her front yard, probably checking for intruders, and then the front door opened and shut once more.
Bensin waited until his heart had slowed back to its normal pace. “You’re doing great,” he whispered. “You’re so brave! Mom would have been proud of you. Ready to keep going?”
“I guess so,” she whispered back, her voice tremulous.
They crawled out from under the van and continued down the street, darting into the shadows whenever a car drove by. At last they reached their turnoff.
“I’m tired,” Ellie complained. “Are we almost there?”
“Not really. It’s still a long way.”
“Can’t we stop and rest some more? I’m hungry, too.”
“I’m sure they’ll give you something to eat at the station. But I guess we can stop for a bit if I can find somewhere safe. In the meantime, I’ll give you a piggyback ride.” He crouched low and hoisted her onto his back.
A moment later, Bensin almost jumped out of his skin when a ragged man who had obviously had too much to drink came stumbling around a corner and bumped right into him. He leaped aside, nearly dropping his sister, and wondered at the same moment what kind of kick would work best with his hands occupied and the extra weight on his back.
But no. The man wasn’t wearing a collar, and Bensin couldn’t afford to risk his life by attacking a free man, even a bum. Not when he was already risking so much tonight anyway.
But the bum didn’t seem to care. He mumbled what might have been a greeting and staggered on his way, clutching a bottle.
Still, Bensin didn’t want to chance the man remembering them and telling someone in authority. He crossed the street at a run, darted down another, and turned at the first corner. Ahead, he saw lights and heard music. Probably the bar the man had come from, full of revelers toasting the New Year.
“Are we lost?” squeaked Ellie in his ear, arms clasped tightly around his neck.
“No, we just took a detour.” Bensin spied a dark opening between two buildings. “Look, there’s an alley. I’m going to set you down and check if it’s safe, and if it is, we can sit in there and rest a little while.” He squatted down and gently unpried her arms.
Spying an empty beer can on the ground nearby, he tossed it into the darkness. It bounced off something with a metallic clatter, but there was no other response. Satisfied, Bensin beckoned his sister forward. “Okay, let’s go in.”
The metal object turned out to be a trashcan, which Bensin bumped into and nearly knocked over in the dark. Wincing at the loud clang, he sat down behind it and pulled Ellie down beside him. It smelled none too pleasant, and he didn’t want to think about how filthy the ground probably was. But at least no one would see them. “We can rest for a few minutes. Not too long, though.”
“Can I hold Bunny?”
“Of course.” He pulled the toy out of his pocket and handed it over. Freeing his feet once more, he rested them carefully on top of his shoes so he wouldn’t dirty his socks with whatever was underfoot. He massaged his sore toes. I’m going to have blisters after this for sure.
Ellie settled the crocheted rabbit on her lap and stroked it as though it were a real animal. “Don’t worry, Bunny,” he heard her whisper. “We’ll be okay. At least me and you will still be together.”
She leaned against Bensin’s shoulder. In a few minutes he felt her relax, and her breathing grew regular.
Lightning flickered overhead, illuminating bulging layers of cloud. It must be a good sign. Ellie’s life is going to change tonight, Bensin reminded himself. It won’t be much longer now.
Several times he heard people walk past the mouth of their alley, some talking loudly and drunkenly. Nobody ventured in, though, and Bensin was confident he had chosen a safe hiding place. Still, they couldn’t wait around too long. He had to drop Ellie off at the Watch station and get home before morning.
Finally he pulled his shoes back on and shook his sister awake. “Come on, Ellie. We can’t sit here all night.”
“I’m sleepy,” she protested as he pulled her to her feet. “I don’t wanna go any farther. I wanna go to bed.”
“The Watch officers will give you a nice, warm, comfortable bed to sleep in as soon as we get to the station. And something to eat,” he promised, hoping he was right. “Now let me put Bunny back in my pocket, and let’s go.”
“No. I wanna hold Bunny.”
He didn’t bother arguing. “All right, but if we have to run and you drop him, we might not be able to go back.”
“I won’t drop him.”
At the mouth of the alley, he paused to glance both ways before venturing out. Almost immediately, a flashlight beam from across the street sliced through the darkness. Bensin jumped back, nearly tripping over his sister. “Get back! Get back!” He pushed her behind the trashcan once more.
“What is it? Is it another Watch officer?” she whimpered, wide awake now.
“I think so.” Crouching, Bensin peered out from behind the trashcan. He was horrified to see a uniformed officer crossing the street toward them, his flashlight beam playing back and forth across the alley entrance. “He must have heard us. We have to get further back. Maybe there’s another way out of here.” He grabbed her hand and dragged her after him, still crouching low. Another trashcan loomed, and he dodged just in time. Darting behind it, he was dismayed to find that they had reached a dead end. Could they climb the wall?
“Who’s back there?” called a stern voice from the alley entrance. A beam of light illuminated the dirty ground just to their right and the brick wall behind them.
We can’t get over the wall without him seeing us. On his own, Bensin might be able to shimmy over and flee down the next street without getting caught or shot. But with Ellie, his chances were much smaller. Besides, there were probably more officers nearby, especially considering that this was a neighborhood with a bar. He could call for backup, and before we know it we’ll be in the middle of a manhunt. Bensin had seen such things on TV when the Creghorns watched the news.
There’s only one way out of this. “Ellie,” Bensin whispered through a sudden terrified tightness in his throat, “it’s time for you to do what we talked about. The man won’t hurt you. Go tell him your parents are dead and you have nowhere to live.”
“You mean — go out there all alone?” she gasped.
“I know you’re there,” called the officer. “Come out, whoever you are.”
Bensin clenched his fists in anguish. How could he send his little sister to face a Watch officer by herself? The man had a gun, for the emperor’s sake! If he couldn’t escape with her, his instincts screamed that he had to protect her in any way he could — with his own life, if necessary. Certainly not hide in the shadows and send her out to face an armed man alone.
But Bensin couldn’t forget his mother’s words that day he had visited her in the hospital. “Slavery is worse for girls, Bensin. Their owners think they can do anything they want with them. Promise me you’ll look after Ellie as much as you can. Teach her to be strong and brave.”
And Bensin, tears in his eyes at the frightening sight of Mom so pale and weak on her hospital bed, had looked down at the red, wrinkly bundle that was his little sister and promised. “I will, Mom. I’ll take care of care of her no matter what.” As an afterthought, he had added, “And someday she’ll be free. I’ll make sure of it, I promise. I promise!”
And this was his last chance to keep that promise. The Creghorns would take Ellie to get her collar any day now, and she would never escape after that.
“Come out with your hands in the air!” the officer called. He sounded closer.
“Go, Ellie,” Bensin whispered, trying to make his voice encouraging. “It’s time for you and Bunny to get a new home. Step out where the man can see you and say what I told you to. And don’t let him know I’m here.”
She gave a frightened little whimper but obeyed. Rising to her feet, she took a shaky step forward, Bunny clutched to her chest like a life preserver.
Bensin had never felt like such a loser.
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Author’s name: Annie Douglass Lima
Title of book: The Collar and the Cavvarach
Brief summary of the story:
Bensin, a teenage slave and martial artist, is desperate to see his little sister freed. But only victory in the Krillonian Empire’s most prestigious tournament will allow him to secretly arrange for Ellie’s escape. Dangerous people are closing in on her, however, and Bensin is running out of time. With his one hope fading quickly away, how can Bensin save Ellie from a life of slavery and abuse?
Brief description of the world or location you created for this story:
The story takes place in a world almost exactly like our own. Although most aspects of the culture are just about what they are currently on Earth, a few sports are different, such as the martial art known as cavvara shil (more about that later). The main difference, however, is that slavery is legal there.
Jarreon, where this story is set, is the second-largest city on the continent of Imperia. It’s located on the coast and has a warm climate most of the year, though winter nights are cool enough that you would want at least a light jacket.
What is the political or government structure there?
The Krillonian Empire rules much of the world. An emperor (Geoffrey Kolvar Vandion, though his name isn’t actually mentioned in this book) governs from the capital city, Krillonia, on the continent known as Imperia. Eight separate provinces (independent nations before they were conquered) can be found on nearby continents. Each province, plus Imperia, is allowed to elect its own legislature and decide on many of its own laws, but the emperor reserves the right to veto any of them and make changes as he sees fit. This seldom happens, however, and to most people the emperor is merely a vague and distant ceremonial figure.
If we were to visit Jarreon as tourists, what would you recommend that we see or do there?
The city of Jarreon is famous throughout the empire for its martial arts, especially cavvara shil. If you enjoy sports, you will definitely want to attend one of the many local tournaments. I recommend the Grand Imperial Cavvara Shil tourney held in Jarreon every spring. The contest is held on four consecutive weekends at one of the city’s large arenas. Contestants of all ages, both male and female, battle it out for fame, trophies, and large cash prizes. Reserve your seat early, though, as tickets usually sell out months in advance. If you can’t get a ticket, you’ll be able to watch the matches on television on any of Imperia’s sports channels.
What dangers should we avoid in Jarreon?
On the whole, Jarreon is a pretty safe city, thanks in part to the City Watch officers who patrol its streets. (One of them, Officer Kalgan Shigo, plays an important role in the story.) I would recommend not walking around alone at night, however, especially in the bad parts of town.
Is there a distinct or unusual type of food or meal that we might be served in Jarreon?
Not really. Most foods you might find on Earth are readily available there, including fast food such as pizza and hamburgers. One item often eaten by manual laborers is boxed meals that include rice or noodles with vegetables and meat (how much meat depends on how much you want to pay). Many side-of-the-road eateries specialize in variations of the boxed lunch, which owners will often order for their enslaved workers.
What types of weaponry or fighting styles are common in Jarreon?
Firearms very similar to ones we have on Earth are readily available throughout the Krillonian Empire. Watch officers carry them, and they’re legal for citizens to own. However, it is against the law for slaves to use or even touch a firearm.
A number of martial arts are popular in Jarreon. One kind is called kickfighting, which is similar to our kickboxing. Another is cavvara dueling, in which fighters strike at each other with a sword-like weapon called a cavvarach. The cavvarach has a hook about halfway along the top edge of the blade, and you win a duel by disarming your opponent: hooking or knocking the cavvarach out of his or her hand. Contestants wear poncho-like padding that protects their torso and groin.
Cavvara shil is the most widely respected martial art in the Krillonian Empire. It is difficult to master, since it is a combination of kickfighting and cavvara dueling, with a little wrestling thrown in. You can win a duel either by disarming your opponent or by pinning his or her shoulders to the mat for five seconds. In addition to the protective padding, you wear a narrow shield-like guard on one forearm, with which you can block an opponent’s blows or kicks. Bensin, the main character, is particularly skilled at cavvara shil. He and his owner/coach, Steene, each have their own reasons for hoping he will qualify for and eventually win the Grand Imperial Cavvara Shil Tourney. (Click here to read a tournament scene from the book.)
Cavvarachs used by most martial artists are unsharpened and not very dangerous, though minor injuries can and do occur. Only professional gladiators, who live and compete in Jarreon’s four major arenas, use sharpened weapons and fight without the protective padding. While not usually intended to be to the death, these duels can nevertheless end in serious injury, and all gladiators do die on the job eventually. (Barely mentioned in The Collar and the Cavvarach, gladiators and the whole arena system play an important role in book II: The Gladiator and the Guard.)
What types of vehicles, animals, technology, etc. are used to travel in or to the Krillonian Empire?
Transportation works the same way there that it does on Earth. Steene, Bensin’s owner, drives an old blue pickup truck. When not riding with him, Bensin takes the bus to and from the different places where he works.
What types of sentient races might we encounter in the Krillonian Empire that we don’t see on Earth?
Humans are the only sentient race in this world. There are different races of humans, closely coinciding with races found on Earth, though their cultures don’t necessarily match. Bensin, a Tarnestran, has “light skin, short blond hair, and green eyes” (though hair and eye color can vary). Nelirians, like Bensin’s friend Ricky, have “narrowed eyes and high cheekbones”. Skeyvians, like Officer Shigo, have “dark skin, kinky black hair”, and in his case, “the stereotypical deep voice”. Imperians such as Steene are described with “medium brown skin and straight black hair”.
I should add that race is really not much of an issue to most people in Jarreon. As you might expect in the largest port city on the continent, it is a cultural melting pot, and people from all over the empire can be found there. One character does recall someone making racist remarks to him, but most don’t see others any differently based on their skin color or appearance.
Slavery is not based on race, either. People from any race can be enslaved as punishment for certain crimes. For example, Ricky and his family were sold into slavery after his dad, who worked as an accountant for a government agency, was caught embezzling money. It’s true that more Tarnestrans are slaves than anyone else, but that’s because the nation of Tarnestra refused to submit peacefully to imperial annexation. After the Krillonian Empire eventually conquered it, tens of thousands of Tarnestrans were ripped from their homes and sold into slavery as a warning to anyone else who might be tempted to resist imperial progress.
Is there any advanced or unusual technology in the Krillonian Empire? If you haven’t described it already, please give some examples.
Technology is nearly the same there as on Earth, but some of it is used in different ways. For example, all slaves wear a metal collar that locks around their neck and identifies them as a slave. For an extra fee, a slave’s owner can purchase an upgraded version that comes with GPS, making it easy to track the slave if he or she attempts to escape.
Are the days of the week and months of the year the same in the Krillonian Empire as on Earth? What holidays or special events are celebrated regularly there?
The days and months are exactly the same, though the years are based on the time since the empire was founded. The story starts on January 1st of the year 154.
The biggest holiday in Imperia is New Year. People celebrate by buying each other gifts and enjoying a feast with family or friends. As on Earth, it’s common to stay up till midnight on New Year’s Eve. Schools close for two weeks, and families often use the time to go on vacations. In the first few days of the new year, those who can afford it usually buy new clothes.
Are there any other unique cultural practices that we should be aware of if we visit Jarreon?
The prevalence of slavery is probably what would stand out the most to visitors from Earth. There are nearly as many slaves in Jarreon as free people, and they are easily identified by their steel collars. From each collar hangs a tag inscribed with the slave’s name, their owner’s name, and a tiny copy of their owner’s signature. On the back of the tag is their owner’s phone number and a bar code that can be scanned to access additional information.
Owners may choose to send slave children to up to five years of public slave school, which meets only in the mornings and involves reading, writing, and arithmetic. This is considered all that most slaves need to know for their daily tasks, though some owners pay extra for them to receive additional education or specific vocational training.
Many families own one or more slaves who do their housework and yardwork. Businesses often own a large number of slaves, usually for manual labor, though some are trained for more complex tasks. “Green slaves,” or those who were born free and enslaved later in life for one reason or another, are in high demand. Often they have college degrees and the white-collar work experience so hard to find in the enslaved population.
People or businesses who don’t own their own slaves may “hire in” a slave belonging to someone else. The accepted rate for an hourly wage is two-thirds the amount that a free person would earn for equivalent labor (the money goes to the slave’s owner, of course).
Has anything in your actual life inspired the locations, cultures, etc. in your book?
I’ve based a few details of Jarreon’s culture on the culture in Taiwan, where I live. The convenient boxed meals and the importance of New Year, for example. In addition, people receive award money in red envelopes. As in Taiwan, some in Jarreon’s lower class chew betel nut, a legal drug sold in shops decorated with flashing colored lights.
What, if any, “hot-button” or controversial topics do you touch on in your book?
Slavery is definitely the big one. I wanted to explore the idea of what our world would be like if slavery were legalized in the modern day. It sounds so impossibly wrong that it’s easy to think we could never let it happen in this day and age, but how many other wrongs do we overlook because it isn’t convenient to do anything about them? It’s my hope that this work of fiction will make readers take a second look at some of the practices we accept or choose to turn a blind eye to in our own culture.
Where, and in what formats, can we purchase The Collar and the Cavvarach?
The paperback and Kindle versions are available on Amazon here.
Click here to order it for Nook or in other digital formats on Smashwords.
My other books, including two more novels in the Krillonian Chronicles trilogy and one spin-off novella, can be found here.
Where can readers connect with you online?
Email: [email protected]
Twitter: https://twitter.com/princeofalasia
Goodreads: http://bit.ly/ADLimaOnGoodreads
Amazon Author Page: http://bit.ly/AnnieDouglassLimaOnAmazon
Google Plus: http://bit.ly/ADLimaOnGooglePlus
I hope you all enjoyed the trip to the Krillonian Empire. Questions about the world or the book? Ask them in the comments and the author will get back to you!
Click here to read other posts in the Realm Explorers series.
Please join us again next Monday for a trip to the world of Yargon in Realm Explorers Part XLVII!
Click here to read other posts in the Realm Explorers series.
Please join us again next Monday for a trip to the world of Yargon in Realm Explorers Part XLVII!
-Annie Douglass Lima
Just one more week until The Collar and the Cavvarach is available! (Of course, you can preorder it right now by clicking here.) In the meantime, want a sneak preview? Scroll down to read a scene from the book. But first, a quick description of the story.
Bensin, a teenage slave and martial artist, is desperate to see his little sister freed. But only victory in the Krillonian Empire’s most prestigious tournament will allow him to secretly arrange for Ellie’s escape. Dangerous people are closing in on her, however, and Bensin is running out of time. With his one hope fading quickly away, how can Bensin save Ellie from a life of slavery and abuse?
In this scene, fourteen-year-old Bensin is preparing to compete in a martial arts tournament. His coach, Steene Mayvins, is eager to see how his new student will do. Steene’s former prize pupil, Jayce, is competing too.
It was about a quarter to seven that evening when Steene and Bensin pulled into the parking lot of the large park. A cool breeze hit them as they got out of the truck, and they both paused to pull on the light jackets they had brought.
Lively music played from speakers all around, and brilliant temporary lighting illuminated milling crowds in what was almost a carnival atmosphere. Steene sniffed appreciatively; aromas wafted toward them from half a dozen food stalls featuring various local restaurants that offered dinner to the hungry throng.
“Entrance is ten imps per person,” announced an attendant at the gate as they approached.
Steene handed over a ten-imp bill. “Bensin here is a contestant.”
He showed the woman the registration slip, and she compared the name printed on it to the one on the boy’s collar. “All right, your slave gets in free. Good luck!”
Long rows of tables on either side of the entrance sold Springstyle sports equipment of every variety, while other vendors, who had paid well for the opportunity, hawked their wares from around the edges of the park.
In the middle, of course, were the fighting rings. There were six of them: two each for the under fourteen, under sixteen, and under eighteen fighters. Netting hung from poles around each ring to protect onlookers from the occasional flying cavvarach.
Steene checked a nearby sign. “The under sixteen boys’ ring is over on the right there. Come on.” He led the way as Bensin followed him through the crowd on bare feet, carrying the duffel bag with the protective padding, cavvarach, and shil that Steene was letting him borrow for the event.
“Hi, Coach Steene!” A couple of the girls in one of Steene’s intermediate classes waved to him from amongst the crowd.
He waved back. “Good luck this evening! You’ll do great!” He would try to go watch some of their matches if he had a chance, but Bensin was his first priority today.
A cheer went up from somewhere to their left, followed by thunderous applause. The music cut out while an announcer’s voice called over the loudspeaker: “Ladies and gentlemen, let’s hear it for April Levang, our under eighteen girls’ cavvara dueling champion!” There was another cheer, and scattered applause rippled through the park.
They made their way to Bensin’s ring, empty of contestants at the moment, and Steene found the list of pairings for the first round. “So who am I fighting, sir?” the boy wondered from beside him.
I don’t believe this.“You’re going first, and it looks like you’re up against Jayce Torro.” Usually athletes from the same school or training organization weren’t matched against each other in public competitions, at least not unless they both made it to the finals and there was no one else to fight. But Steene had signed Bensin up as his private pupil. He hadn’t mentioned the CSF on the form since the boy wasn’t a paying student there anymore, and so the organizers had had no way of knowing.
“I’m against Jayce, sir? Your former prize student?” Worry crossed Bensin’s face. “I pictured maybe facing him in the final round.”
“Well, now you can beat him at the beginning and get it over with,” Steene replied, trying to sound confident. He wasn’t actually sure which of the two boys was the better athlete, but he wasn’t about to say so now. “Come on, let’s go get you warmed up.” He led Bensin toward the competitors’ tent as another, smaller round of applause went up from the crowd at the other end of the park.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” bellowed a different announcer, “I give you Brock, winner of the boys’ under fourteen cavvara dueling competition!” There were fewer cheers this time. With only one name, Brock was obviously a slave, and people seldom got as excited when a slave won. Not that slaves didn’t have friends who would have been glad to cheer for them, but slaves’ friends were almost always other slaves, and they didn’t usually have the money for the entry fee required at most tournaments.
“And that concludes the cavvara dueling portion of our evening,” the voice went on. “We’ll take a few minutes’ break, and at seven o’clock we’ll start the first rounds of cavvara shil. Check the rings or ask at the information counter for the lists of competitors, and be sure to pick your favorites. Bets can be placed at our betting booth across from the front entrance.”
The competitors’ tent, which was really just a peaked roof on poles, was full of athletes warming up and coaches giving last-minute pep talks. Steene guided Bensin to an empty corner and pulled out the jump rope he had stashed in the duffel bag. “Here. Warm up.” It might look funny, but he had found that jumping rope was the best way to warm up in a small space.
As Bensin began jumping, Steene pulled out the padding and shil that he had worn at so many tournaments in his own teenage fighting days. At the other end of the tent, he could see Jayce’s parents hovering anxiously while their son pulled off his socks and shoes and prepped his custom-designed gear under Markus’ watchful eye.
Steene wove his way over to them, noting the way the boy’s mom and dad sidled away as he approached. They don’t want to have to talk to me about why they pulled their son out of my class.
“Hi, Jayce.”
His former student, who hadn’t seen him coming, started almost guiltily at the sound of Steene’s voice. “Oh, hi, Coach.”
“Ready for your first competition under your new trainer?” He hoped the bitterness he couldn’t help feeling wasn’t too obvious.
“Um, yeah. Listen, nothing personal about switching or anything. It was just, you know ….” His voice trailed away.
“No worries, Jayce. I’m sure you’ll do great with Mr. Brinks.”
Markus smiled toothily at him as he handed Jayce his padding. “Oh, he will. He will.”
“I hear I’m up against a new pupil of yours,” the boy added as he pulled the padding over his head. “Some collar named Bensin.”
“You shouldn’t call him that.” Steene frowned. “Slave or not, he’s a person, and a good fighter too. He’ll give you a run for your money.”
“Well, I’m ready for it!” Jayce grinned and flexed his muscles.
He is ready for it.Steene turned and walked back toward Bensin. Was his new student as good as his old one? He would find out soon, and he had an uncomfortable feeling about this.
Next time I’ll check with Mr. Drogum about mentioning the CSF on the form, Steene decided. Bensin does train there, after all. He should have done that this time.
But he wouldn’t let Bensin see how he felt about this match. “Better start stretching,” he ordered. “They’re going to be calling the two of you out there in a minute.”
“Yes, sir.” The boy coiled the jump rope up. “Was that Jayce you were talking to over there, sir?”
“Yeah.” Steene took the rope, noticing for the first time the holes in the knees of his student’s pants and how threadbare his shirt was. It was quite a contrast to Jayce’s name brand sports clothes and expensive shoes. “Listen,” he began as Bensin pulled one foot up behind himself in a standing quad stretch. “He’s good, but not as good as he likes everyone to think, so don’t let him intimidate you. He’s overconfident. You can beat him if you stay focused.”
“Yes, sir.”
“If you can get him to underestimate you, you’ve got an even better chance. Focus mainly on defense at the beginning while you get a feel for his fighting style. Then attack when he thinks he’s got you intimidated. Try to pin him or disarm him suddenly, before he can come back from his surprise.”
“Yes, sir. Got it.” They said nothing else as the boy finished stretching. Steene wasn’t sure if Bensin really believed he could do it or not.
Finally Bensin stood up, peeled off his jacket, and donned the padding. The loudspeaker crackled to life as he strapped on Steene’s shil. “And now, ladies and gentlemen,” came the announcer’s voice, “we begin the event you’ve all been waiting for. Will the first contestants for the cavvara shil competition in each age group please step into their rings.”
Steene handed the cavvarach to Bensin and led him out of the tent, through the crowd, and over to the ring formed by the circle of netting. Jayce was already stepping into it from the other side.
A different announcer, the one in charge of just this ring, spoke into his microphone from a few yards away. “For the first round in boys’ under sixteen cavvara shil,” he declared, reading from his sheet, “we have Jayce Torro versus Bensin.”
Excited applause rose from the gathering crowd. “You all set?” Steene asked. Out of habit, he double-checked the straps on his student’s padding and shil, even though he knew Bensin knew just how tight to fasten them. “All right. Get in there and make me proud.”
Bensin nodded under the lights. “I’ll try, sir.”
Steene lifted the edge of the netting, and his student ducked under it and into the ring. A whistle blew and the duel began.
Click here to preorder The Collar and the Cavvarach from Amazon. It will be delivered to your Kindle in one week.
I’m excited to announce that my young adult action and adventure novel, The Collar and the Cavvarach, is scheduled to be released next month! Here is the cover, created by the talented Jack Lin:
About the Story:
Bensin, a teenage slave and martial artist, is desperate to see his little sister freed. But only victory in the Krillonian Empire’s most prestigious tournament will allow him to secretly arrange for Ellie’s escape. Dangerous people are closing in on her, however, and Bensin is running out of time. With his one hope fading quickly away, how can Bensin save Ellie from a life of slavery and abuse?
What is the Collar for, and What is a Cavvarach?
The story is set in a world very much like our own, with just a few major differences. One is that slavery is legal there. Slaves must wear metal collars that lock around their neck, making their enslaved status obvious to everyone. Any slave attempting to escape faces the dilemma of how and where to illegally get their collar removed (a crime punishable by enslavement for the remover).
Another difference is the popularity of a martial art called cavvara shil. It is fought with a cavvarach (rhymes with “have a rack”), an unsharpened weapon similar to a sword but with a steel hook protruding from partway down its top edge. Competitors can strike at each other with their feet as well as with the blades. You win in one of two ways: disarming your opponent (hooking or knocking their cavvarach out of their hands) or pinning their shoulders to the mat for five seconds.
Connect with the Author Online:
Email: [email protected]
Twitter: https://twitter.com/princeofalasia
Goodreads: http://bit.ly/ADLimaOnGoodreads
Amazon Author Page: http://bit.ly/AnnieDouglassLimaOnAmazon
LinkedIn: http://bit.ly/ADLimaOnLinkedIn
Welcome to Realm Explorers! In this weekly series, we visit a variety of unique worlds created by talented science fiction and fantasy authors. Enjoy your travels! And don’t forget to read to the bottom of the post to find out more about each author and see how to purchase the featured book.
Don’t forget! At the bottom of this post there is a link to enter a giveaway for a number of free books, including Prince of Malorn!
Don’t forget! At the bottom of this post there is a link to enter a giveaway for a number of free books, including Prince of Malorn!
Author’s name: Annie Douglass Lima
Title of series: Annals of Alasia
Titles of books: The main trilogy consists of Prince of Alasia, In the Enemy’s Service, and Prince of Malorn. There is a short companion book entitled Annals of Alasia: The Collected Interviews.
Brief summary of the series:
Each book in the trilogy deals with events surrounding the same major political incident: the invasion of the kingdom of Alasia by the neighboring kingdom of Malorn. Prince of Alasia begins on the night of the Invasion and describes what happens to twelve-year-old Prince Jaymin after he is forced to flee for his life. In the Enemy’s Service tells the story of those who were not able to escape from the Alasian palace when the enemy invaded. Prince of Malorn begins several months earlier and focuses on the Malornian perspective of the events leading up to the Invasion. In each of the books, main characters from the others make brief appearances and interact with each other at the point where the timeframes and settings overlap. Though each of the three can stand on its own, they each fill in gaps left by the others and together provide a much more complete picture of what was going on in the two kingdoms.
Annals of Alasia: The Collected Interviews is a collection of twenty-four “interviews” I conducted with major and minor characters in the other three books. Though not a novel in and of itself, it is interesting to read alongside the trilogy. In the interviews, characters reveal more about their personalities, motivations, and backgrounds, talking about themselves in their own “voice” and giving extra insights into the events of the series. You can download it for free here.
Brief description of the world or location you created for this story:The kingdom of Malorn is mostly surrounded by a huge mountain range that curves around it to the east, south, and west. To the north, the Grenn River separates Malorn from Alasia. The Impassable Mountains, as their name suggests, are dangerous and difficult to travel through even in summer, and almost impossible in winter. The highest peaks are covered with snow all year round.
Two races of people live in Malorn. The Mountain Folk are a small, nomadic tribe of hunters and gatherers who live in extended family groups up in the Impassables. Each family keeps a flock of goats for milk and meat. They seldom venture down to the “Lowlands”, as they call the rest of Malorn, except when they must trade for supplies in one of the foothill towns. But they are suspicious of Lowlanders, whom they accuse of cheating them in trade and mistreating them, and they avoid interaction with them whenever possible.
Lowlanders (who think of themselves simply as “regular” Malornians) live mostly on the plains, where they make a living through a variety of trades. Many work as farmers, since the weather there is mild and ideal for growing a variety of crops. Coffee grows well in the foothills, so you’ll find coffee farmers there, but few Lowlanders care to venture much higher than that. Miners do travel into the mountains in search of gold, but again, most of them prefer to set up camp in the foothills where it’s safer and life is easier. Those who live on or travel into the lower slopes of the Impassables are suspicious of Mountain Folk, whom they regard as dirty and primitive. They often accuse the Mountain Folk of cheating them in trade and stealing crops.
If we were to visit Malorn as tourists, what would you recommend that we see or do there?
If you like hiking or mountain climbing, there are numerous rugged and scenic spots to explore. If shopping is your thing, you may enjoy browsing some of the high-class shops in Sazellia, the capital city, where you can buy fine clothing, jewelry, or gold decorations for your home. Music is popular throughout the Lowlands, and minstrels can often be found performing in taverns, parks, or on street corners. It’s polite to leave a coin or two if you stop to listen. The best musicians perform in large concert halls where admission is expensive, but if people like a street minstrel’s performance, they may hire him or her to play for a party or special event at a more reasonable price.
What is the political or government structure in Malorn? Who is in charge there at the moment, and what kind of leader is he/she?Malorn is a constitutional monarchy, so the king there has less power than in neighboring Alasia. The government is made up of a High Council, which includes the king and up to 19 other members, and a majority vote among them is required to pass new laws or make most decisions for the kingdom.
King Kerman passed away under suspicious circumstances four years ago. His son, Prince Korram, was still too young to take the throne (the legal minimum age for kingship in Malorn is 18), so a regent was chosen from among the king’s High Council to hold the reins of power until the prince came of age. An honorary member of the High Council in the meantime, the prince can offer input into the running of the government but has little real power. Regent Rampus, on the other hand, has done much to improve life for Malorn’s citizens and thus has been gaining popularity throughout the kingdom. Conveniently, his political opponents have almost all dropped out of the picture due to a variety of unfortunate circumstances. Rumor has it that if Prince Korram were prevented for any reason from taking the throne next year, the High Council would be sure to select Rampus as the next king. In the meantime, Rampus continues to rule in Korram’s name, and the kingdom rests assured in the knowledge that their beloved regent is assisting the inexperienced prince in his royal duties.
Prince Korram is concerned that Rampus may not be planning to allow him to survive to his eighteenth birthday next year. But there is no one to turn to for help, since practically everyone of any consequence in the kingdom is under the regent’s control in one way or another. Even the military answers to him. Only Malorn’s reclusive Mountain Folk, who care nothing for Lowland politics, are certain not to be influenced by any threats, bribes, or promises from Rampus. And so Korram determines to journey into the Impassables to recruit his own personal army from among them, hoping thus to protect himself until he can legally claim his rightful throne.
What types of plants, animals, or sentient races might we encounter in Malorn that we don’t see on Earth?
A root vegetable similar to a turnip, called lumjum, grows plentifully in the mountains. Other plants in Malorn are pretty much the same as those you’d find in similar climates on Earth. If you trek high enough up in the mountains, you may glimpse a snowcat, though I don’t recommend trying to find one or getting close to it if you do. This pure white, long-haired feline is about the size of a tiger and at least as dangerous. Korram has two separate (and very different) encounters with snowcats during his time in the Impassables.
Humans are the only sentient race in Malorn. However, Mountain Folk would argue that their horses are more intelligent and affectionate than mere animals.
What dangers should we avoid in Malorn?It would be unwise to venture into the Impassables alone or with anyone not familiar with the area. Besides the risk of getting lost, you would probably have difficulty finding food, unless you’re experienced in wilderness survival and living off the land. In addition, you would face the possibility of blizzards and avalanches on the higher slopes. Wild animals, including snakes, wolves, bears, and snowcats, are plentiful there. If you met any Mountain Folk, they would be unlikely to help you for free, though for enough money they would probably sell you goat milk or a little of their food.
You would be much safer in the Lowlands, though there is always the risk of encountering pickpockets and other petty criminals in the cities. Regent Rampus is not to be trifled with, but unless you plan on speaking out publicly against his leadership, you are not likely to attract his attention.
Is there a distinct or unusual type of food or meal that we might be served in Malorn?
I hope you like coffee! It’s by far the most popular beverage in the Lowlands and is available at any time of day anywhere food or drinks are served. You can request it pretty much however you like, but it’s most commonly brewed strong and served with cream. Lunch and dinner often include either potatoes or a variety of flatbread made with several types of grain, served beside vegetables (and meat, for those who can afford it). A popular breakfast dish among the upper class involves eggs scrambled with cheese and sausage.
Mountain Folk have an unusual meal schedule which they fit around their day’s work schedule. They typically wake up early to milk their goats, and then they share a small “meal” of goat milk. after that, two or three members of the extended family group will take the goats out for the day to graze on a nearby slope (the grass is better the higher you go). They will usually pack leftover cooked meat or other food to eat later in the day. Meanwhile, the rest of the family will spend the next few hours working in the area where they are camped (usually in a valley by a stream or river). They fish and gather nuts, berries, lumjum, and other edible plants, or they may go further afield to hunt. They also spend time shaping tools from wood, stone, or bone; gathering firewood; or skinning animals they have caught, tanning their hides, and sewing them into clothing or bags or tents. In the autumn, they will butcher several of their goats and dry the meat to last through the winter. They keep busy at these tasks through most of the day, but they do take a break in the mid morning for breakfast. In the early evening when the goats are brought back to camp, everyone stops their other work to help milk them. After that, they eat supper and drink the milk together. Both breakfast and supper can consist of meat, fruit, and small fried cakes made from mashed lumjum. Though they don’t eat lunch, Mountain Folk snack on berries or anything else edible they come across throughout the day.
What types of weaponry or fighting styles are common in Malorn?Soldiers in the Lowlands fight with broadswords. Mountain Folk make wooden spears, though they’re primarily for fishing. They occasionally use them to protect their goats from predators or to scare Lowlanders who they feel are threatening them, but on the whole they are a peaceful people and practice no traditional fighting techniques. This makes Korram’s job all the harder when he seeks to raise and train an army from among them.
What types of vehicles, animals, technology, etc. are used to travel in or to Malorn?
Lowlanders usually ride horses (or mules, if they’re traveling in the foothills). Carriages are common among the upper class, and farmers will take their crops to market in carts or wagons. Mountain Folk use horses as pack animals when they move camp every few weeks to find fresh grazing. They seldom actually ride them, though, except occasionally for short hunting trips.
Are the days of the week and months of the year the same in Malorn as on Earth? What holidays or special events are celebrated regularly there?
Yes, they are the same, though only Lowlanders use them. Mountain Folk don’t keep track of days or months, measuring time only with seasons and phases of the moon.
Every year, Mountain Folk look forward to the Mid-Autumn Gathering. This week-long event is basically a reunion in which their entire tribe comes together in a certain valley deep in the Impassables. During this time, most work ceases, and friends and extended family members who haven’t seen each other since last year can relax and enjoy each other’s company. Weddings always take place at this gathering. It’s also a time to share news and discuss any issues of interest to the whole tribe. During the rest of the year, the Mountain Folk live and travel in extended family groups, usually of ten to fifteen people, but at the annual Gathering, these groups are often rearranged so people can spend the coming year with different relatives. Occasionally unmarried young adults will arrange to spend a year with someone else’s family, especially if they are hoping to get to know a friend of the opposite gender better.
Tell us about any sports, games, or activities that are available for entertainment in Malorn.
Most Malornians in the Lowlands are more interested in the performing arts than in sports. Horse races are popular, though, and many people from the middle and upper class enjoy social outings on horseback through meadows and farmland, often including a picnic.
For most of the year, Mountain Folk lead busy lives that don’t leave much room for sports and games. In the Mid-Autumn Gathering, however, they often engage in activities such as archery and spear-throwing contests, and young people play games similar to tag and hide-and-seek on horseback.
What, if any, “hot-button” or controversial topics do you touch on in your book?
Racial prejudice is a theme I delve into in Prince of Malorn. Those Mountain Folk and Lowlanders who are willing to get to know each other and learn the reasons behind their cultural differences find that they are not as different as they had thought. But they come to realize that they can’t just blame the other group and sit around waiting for “them” to stop mistreating “us”. Both sides have wronged each other over the years, and both need to be willing to take the first step toward reconciliation. I believe it’s the same in our world: it’s easy to hide behind cultural differences and assume that “they” are strange and different and “we” are normal, and “they” are in the wrong for any conflict or misunderstandings. But if we’re willing to get to know each other and learn about each other’s cultures, I think we’ll all discover that we’re not as different as we might think.
Author Autobiography:
Annie Douglass Lima spent most of her childhood in Kenya and later graduated from Biola University in Southern California. She and her husband Floyd currently live in Taiwan, where she teaches fifth grade at Morrison Academy. She has been writing poetry, short stories, and novels since her childhood, and to date has published eight books (three YA action adventure/fantasy novels, a collection of character interviews, one puppet script, and four anthologies of her students’ poetry, all available through the links in the sidebar to the right). Besides writing, her hobbies include reading (especially fantasy and science fiction), scrapbooking, and international travel.
Where, and in what formats, can we purchase your books?
Prince of Alasia ($2.99 temporarily 99 cents)
In the Enemy’s Service ($2.99 temporarily 99 cents)
Prince of Malorn ($3.99 temporarily 99 cents)
Annals of Alasia: The Collected Interviews (available for free!)
Where can readers connect with you online?
Email: [email protected]
Twitter: https://twitter.com/princeofalasia
Goodreads: http://bit.ly/ADLimaOnGoodreads
Amazon Author Page: http://bit.ly/AnnieDouglassLimaOnAmazon
Google Plus: http://bit.ly/ADLimaOnGooglePlus
I hope you all enjoyed the trip to Malorn. Questions about the world or the book? Ask them in the comments and the author will get back to you!
Click here to read other posts in the Realm Explorers series.
Please join us again next Monday for a trip to a science fiction world known simply as The City, in Realm Explorers Part XXXXII!
Click here to read other posts in the Realm Explorers series.
Please join us again next Monday for a trip to a science fiction world known simply as The City, in Realm Explorers Part XXXXII!
-Annie Douglass Lima
Welcome to Realm Explorers! In this weekly series, we visit a variety of unique worlds created by talented science fiction and fantasy authors. Enjoy your travels! And don’t forget to read to the bottom of the post to find out more about each author and see how to purchase the featured books.
Author’s name: Annie Douglass Lima
Title of series: Annals of Alasia
Titles of books: The main trilogy consists of Prince of Alasia, In the Enemy’s Service, and Prince of Malorn. There is a short companion book entitled Annals of Alasia: The Collected Interviews.
Brief summary of the story:
Each book in the trilogy deals with events surrounding the same major political incident: the invasion of the kingdom of Alasia by the neighboring kingdom of Malorn. Prince of Alasia begins on the night of the Invasion and describes what happens to twelve-year-old Prince Jaymin after he is forced to flee for his life. In the Enemy’s Service tells the story of those who were not able to escape from the Alasian palace when the enemy invaded. Prince of Malorn begins several months earlier and focuses on the Malornian perspective of the events leading up to the Invasion. In each of the books, main characters from the others make brief appearances and interact with each other at the point where the timeframes and settings overlap. Though each of the three can stand on its own, they each fill in gaps left by the others and together provide a much more complete picture of what was going on in Alasia and Malorn.
Annals of Alasia: The Collected Interviews is a collection of twenty-four “interviews” I conducted with major and minor characters in the other three books. Though not a novel in and of itself, it would be interesting to read alongside the trilogy. In the interviews, characters reveal more about their personalities, motivations, and backgrounds, talking about themselves in their own “voice” and giving extra insights into the events of the series. You can download it for free here.
Brief description of the world or location you created for this story:
I’ll focus mainly on the kingdom of Alasia in this post. It has four medium to large cities (Almar, Tainabi, Wistra, and Mosra), along with hundreds of smaller towns and villages. Alasia is on a peninsula just north of Malorn, which is its only bordering nation. Its culture, level of technology, etc. are much like that of medieval Europe. The climate is warm in the summer and uncomfortably cold in the winter, though you won’t often find snow except up in the hills. The people who live there are human, and there are no other sentient races.
If we were to visit Alasia as tourists, what would you recommend that we see or do there?
If you enjoy swimming or sunbathing, Alasia has miles and miles of beautiful beaches, and you might see dolphins playing in the surf or sea lions sunning themselves there. A large factory in the city of Wistra produces glass for the kingdom for both practical and decorative purposes; they give free tours, and there is a gift shop where you can purchase glass tableware and other souvenirs. You should definitely make sure you stop by the capital city of Almar to see the magnificent palace on its hill overlooking the sea, although you probably won’t be allowed inside unless you have royal connections.
What dangers should we avoid in Alasia?As in most cities anywhere, I would recommend staying away from low-income areas at night, especially if you’re alone. Overall, though, Alasia has been primarily a safe and peaceful kingdom until recently. Now, you’ll want to avoid the Malornian soldiers (easily identifiable in their red and black uniforms) who patrol the streets of every major city along with many of the smaller towns. Though officially looking for the missing prince who slipped through their fingers on the night of the Invasion, they also tend to be looking for trouble. Avoid antagonizing them or even catching their attention if you can help it, and if you’re lucky they will leave you alone.
Is there a distinct or unusual type of food or meal that we might be served in Alasia?
If you’re fortunate enough to be invited to a royal banquet, you will be served delicacies such as roast venison in a honey glaze, smoked salmon with lime sauce, and/or apricot stuffed quail. At an average inn, you might eat roast pork or beef with gravy, mixed vegetables, and bread or potatoes. In the coastal towns, little stands selling fresh grilled seafood are common.
What types of weaponry or fighting styles are common in Alasia?
The military uses broadswords and shields, along with bows and arrows. Twelve-year-old Prince Jaymin is skilled with both the bow and sword, though neither does him much good when he is forced to live in disguise. Erik, Jaymin’s young bodyguard, is an expert in using unarmed combat against sword- and dagger-wielding opponents, which is a more useful and much less common skill.
What types of vehicles, animals, technology, etc. are used for travel in Alasia?
Those who can afford one usually ride a horse, and many people in the middle or upper class also own a carriage, wagon, cart, or small buggy, depending on their occupation. Boat travel between coastal cities is common as well.
Tell us about any sports, games, or activities that are available for entertainment in Alasia.
Bow hunting is common throughout the kingdom, and garden archery is a popular hobby among the upper class. It’s also common for wealthy families to have their sons trained in fencing (using unsharpened weapons only). Many families entertain themselves indoors (especially on winter evenings) by telling stories, singing, or playing card games. Outside, children often jump rope or play a sport similar to soccer. Those who can’t afford a real ball will fashion a makeshift one from a bundle of rags tied up tightly with twine.
What is the political or government structure in Alasia? Who is in charge there at the moment, and what kind of leader is he/she?
Alasia is a monarchy. King Jaymin III was the ruler until he was assassinated by invaders from neighboring Malorn. Now the kingdom is under the control of Malorn’s Prince Korram, with Regent Rampus holding the reins of power until young Korram comes of age. The Malornian conquerors have been gripping Alasia with an iron fist, levying new taxes and carefully controlling who is allowed to travel where. They have also seized control of important products such as glass and have begun sending them back to Malorn.
Jaymin III was a benevolent ruler but not really in touch with the lives of citizens in the middle and lower classes. His newly orphaned son, Prince Jaymin IV, has his eyes opened as he is forced to live in disguise in an especially poor part of a poor town. Coming face to face with poverty and need in the lives of ordinary citizens, young Jaymin is determined to improve his people’s lives someday if he is ever able to claim his rightful throne.
Author autobiography:
Annie Douglass Lima spent most of her childhood in Kenya and later graduated from Biola University in Southern California. She and her husband Floyd currently live in Taiwan, where she teaches fifth grade at Morrison Academy. She has been writing poetry, short stories, and novels since her childhood, and to date has published eight books (three YA action adventure/fantasy novels, a collection of character interviews, one puppet script, and four anthologies of her students’ poetry, all available through the links in the sidebar to the right). Besides writing, her hobbies include reading (especially fantasy and science fiction), scrapbooking, and international travel.
Where, and in what formats, can we purchase your books?
Prince of Alasia
In the Enemy’s Service
Prince of Malorn
Annals of Alasia: The Collected Interviews (available for free!)
Where can readers connect with you online?
Email: [email protected]
Twitter: https://twitter.com/princeofalasia
Goodreads: http://bit.ly/ADLimaOnGoodreads
Amazon Author Page: http://bit.ly/AnnieDouglassLimaOnAmazon
Google Plus: http://bit.ly/ADLimaOnGooglePlus
I hope you all enjoyed the trip to Alasia. Questions about the world or the book? Ask them in the comments and the author will get back to you!
Click here to read other posts in the Realm Explorers series.
Please join us again next Monday for a trip to the kingdom of Malorn, in Realm Explorers Part XXXXI!
Click here to read other posts in the Realm Explorers series.
Please join us again next Monday for a trip to the kingdom of Malorn, in Realm Explorers Part XXXXI!
-Annie Douglass Lima
Prince of Malorn is an action/adventure fantasy novel geared toward young adults. In it, one major obstacle stands between seventeen-year-old Prince Korram and the throne that is his birthright: Regent Rampus. Temporary ruler of Malorn, Rampus has no intention of giving up his position when the crown prince comes of age – or of allowing the prince to live long enough to reach that age.
Desperate to build an army of his own to stand against the regent, Korram treks into the Impassable Mountains to try to recruit the one segment of Malornian society not under Rampus’s control. But can he lead a band of untrained hunters and gatherers to victory against the full might of the Malornian military? Or will they all be crushed by the grasping hand of the regent before the prince can claim his rightful throne?
Following is a brief scene from the perspective of a villain in the novel. Scroll to the bottom to see how to purchase your copy of Prince of Malorn!
Dannel reined his horse up before the last building on the street, a one-story brick structure with peeling paint and a sagging roof, typical for this part of town. Torches flickered invitingly on either side of the closed door, fainter torchlight leaking through the cracks in the window shutters along with strains of off-key singing. A hanging sign cut in the shape of a wide cup announced the tavern’s name: The Rusty Flagon.
A man smoking a pipe was leaning against the wall in such a position as to have easy access to the weapon obviously hidden under his cloak. He eyed Dannel silently, and Dannel gave him a courteous nod as he dismounted.
At this early hour, the hitching bar out front was only half full, so there was plenty of space for Dannel to tie up his horse. He took his time strolling up to the door, staring into the torchlight all the while so his eyes would adjust and he wouldn’t have to walk in squinting.
When he was ready, Dannel turned the handle and pulled the door open, the sound of raucous singing flowing out into the night air as he did so. The Rusty Flagon was a nondescript establishment, notable neither for its appearance and cleanliness, nor for the quality of its food and drink. But there were plenty of little tables in dim corners barely touched by the light from the torches up front, where customers could carry on secretive conversations or finalize shady business dealings under cover of the music. The bartender, Dannel was nearly sure, hired people to belt out drinking songs over and over to cover the sound of any conversation guests might wish to keep private. The watchers outside, including the one Dannel had seen and others he knew must be lurking nearby, were always quick to give warning if authorities were ever spotted approaching. The proprietor never asked any questions of his guests or tried to engage them in casual conversation. As long as they paid for their drinks and left a tip to cover the cost of any damage, he didn’t bat an eyelash over the occasional unexpected mess or business deal gone violently wrong. Dannel knew; his own blood had contributed to the stains on the floor in one of the back corners many years ago.
The bartender, his strength and agility belied by the belly that hung over an apron as stained as the floor, was making his rounds of the tables with a pitcher of beer in one hand and ale in the other for refills. Dannel caught his eye, and the man hurried over to join him.
“That fellow at the table there by the left wall,” Dannel began, pointing with his eyes. “Was he here last night too?” It was too dim to see a face clearly from across the room, but Dannel recognized the profile. The bartender would have seen him when he first entered and again when he ordered a drink.
“Oh, I don’t pay no attention to who’s here when,” the man was quick to assure him. “Folk can come and go from the Flagon whenever they want, and it’s none o’ my business. Besides, I got a real bad memory for faces.”
Dannel fished a silver coin from his pocket. “Try hard to remember.”
The man glanced at the coin, peered in the indicated direction, and frowned as though in thought. “You know, it’s coming back to me now. He was here last night, and the night before as well. Sat alone at that same table for a couple of hours before he finally left, and he looked kinda worried if you ask me.”
Good. Smiling, Dannel pulled out a second coin and handed them both to the man. “Bring me a pint of ale, and keep the change.” He wove his way around the tables toward the left side of the room, his shoes sticking slightly with each step.
Annie Douglass Lima spent most of her childhood in Kenya and later graduated from Biola University in Southern California. She and her husband Floyd currently live in Taiwan, where she teaches fifth grade at Morrison Academy. She has been writing poetry, short stories, and novels since her childhood, and to date has published seven books (three YA action adventure/fantasy novels, one puppet script, and three anthologies of her students’ poetry). Besides writing, her hobbies include reading (especially fantasy and science fiction), scrapbooking, and international travel.
Prince of Malorn, the third book in my Annals of Alasia trilogy, is now available!
About the Book:
One major obstacle stands between seventeen-year-old Prince Korram and the throne that is his birthright: Regent Rampus. Temporary ruler of Malorn, Rampus has no intention of giving up his position when the crown prince comes of age – or of allowing the prince to live long enough to reach that age.
Desperate to build an army of his own to stand against the regent, Korram treks into the Impassable Mountains to try to recruit the one segment of Malornian society not under Rampus’s control. But can he lead a band of untrained hunters and gatherers to victory against the full might of the Malornian military? Or will they all be crushed by the grasping hand of the regent before the prince can claim his rightful throne?
Q: What makes this trilogy unique?
A: The books don’t take place one after the other; instead, their time frames overlap. They each describe the same major political event: the invasion of the kingdom of Alasia by the neighboring kingdom of Malorn. Prince of Alasiabegins on the night of the Invasion and describes what happens to twelve-year-old Prince Jaymin after he is forced to flee for his life. In the Enemy’s Service tells the story of those who were not able to escape from the Alasian palace when the enemy invaded. Prince of Malorn begins several months earlier and focuses on the Malornian perspective of the events leading up to the Invasion. In each of the books, main characters from the others make brief appearances and interact with each other at the point where the time frames and settings overlap.
Q: Do you recommend that readers start with your first two books before reading Prince of Malorn?
A: Not necessarily. The books can be read in any order, and each one can stand on its own. But each of the three fills in gaps in the others’ stories, and their different perspectives on the same events and characters will make for a richer reading experience overall.
Q: Will there be more books in the Annals of Alasia?
A: Definitely! I’m nearly done with the fourth book, tentatively titled King of Malorn. It takes place five years later and brings together the main characters from all three books in the original trilogy. There may eventually be other books in the series too; I have lots of ideas!
Q: Do you recommend that readers start with your first two books before reading Prince of Malorn?
A: Not necessarily. The books can be read in any order, and each one can stand on its own. But each of the three fills in gaps in the others’ stories, and their different perspectives on the same events and characters will make for a richer reading experience overall.
Q: Will there be more books in the Annals of Alasia?
A: Definitely! I’m nearly done with the fourth book, tentatively titled King of Malorn. It takes place five years later and brings together the main characters from all three books in the original trilogy. There may eventually be other books in the series too; I have lots of ideas!
About the Author
Annie Douglass Lima considers herself fortunate to have traveled in twenty different countries and lived in four of them. A fifth-grade teacher in her “other” life, she loves reading to her students and sparking their imaginations. Her books include science fiction, fantasy, YA action and adventure novels, a puppet script, anthologies of her students’ poetry, and Bible verse coloring and activity books. When she isn’t teaching or writing, Annie can often be found sipping spiced chai or pomegranate green tea in exotic locations, some of which exist in this world.
Connect with Annie Douglass Lima:
Now, enter to win a $20 Amazon gift card!
My third novel, Prince of Malorn, is being published in less than a week! In honor of the occasion, I’ve decided to interview the title character.
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I have arranged to meet Prince Korram in a grassy meadow on one of the lower slopes of Malorn’s Impassable Mountains. He and another young man, both dressed in deerskin and holding homemade spears, are keeping an eye on a large flock of goats. Korram comes over to talk to me while the goats graze.
How old are you?
“Seventeen and a half.”
What’s your favorite food or drink?
“Now? This might sound odd, but I think my favorite food is roast goat. I never had it back in the palace – actually, the first time I tasted it was just a few days ago, after I got back from a very difficult mission. The Mountain Folk family I’ve been living with killed one of their goats for the celebration feast, which they only do when something really important happens. It was a great honor, and I think I enjoyed the meal more than any banquet I ever had back in the palace. I know I’ll never taste goat again without remembering that sense of accomplishment, as well as the pride the others all felt in me. I was exhausted, bruised, and scraped all over from what I’d been through, but it felt so good to sit with them round the campfire in the open air, licking the grease off our fingers while I told the story of my adventures.”
What makes you angry?
“Feeling helpless. And talking to Regent Rampus. The two are pretty much the same thing.”
Tell me about your family.
“Well, Father died four years ago, so there’s just my mother, my little sister, and me. Mother – Queen Aleris – is a strong woman; she could rule the kingdom on her own if it were allowed. She always knows what to do and how to deal with almost any kind of problem; I’ve learned more from her over the years than I ever did from Father. She can be overly controlling, though. I think sometimes she forgets that I’m not a little boy anymore. Even when I’m king, I’m certain she’ll still remind me to comb my hair before I go out and not slouch on my throne. To be honest, it’s been a relief to be off by myself in the mountains these last few months and not have her looking over my shoulder telling me what to do. Of course, I’ve found myself missing her and wondering how she would suggest dealing with some of the problems I’ve faced.
“My sister Kalendria is eleven; she’s prim and proper and likes her fine clothes and jewelry and for everything to be clean and perfect.” Korram chuckles. “I can’t wait to tell her about some of the things I’ve been through up here. Eating beetle larvae to keep from starving, for example; and sleeping on the ground, being chased by a bear, going weeks without bathing. She’ll be horrified – but at the same time, she loves a good story, so she’ll enjoy the tale. She always enjoys Arden’s stories, especially the ones full of danger and adventure. I can’t picture her ever having an adventure herself, though.
“And Arden. He isn’t technically a member of the family, but he might as well be. He’s been a good friend to all of us, and it’s hard to imagine life without him now. He almost always joins Mother and Kalendria and me when we sit down to discuss what Rampus has been up to or how to make sure we’re safe, and he has very good ideas. There’s something about the way he plays his malute that just makes it easier to think and make plans. His music is odd that way – I’ll never understand how it works, but it’s as though he can use it to make people feel certain ways or want to do things that they otherwise wouldn’t. I wish he had come with me up here to the mountains, to be honest; but he’s needed back in the palace more. Who knows what Rampus might be plotting in my absence, and there’s no one else I could trust to look after Mother and Kalendria.”
What would you change about yourself if you could?
He grins sheepishly. “I’d like to be a little taller. It’s embarrassing for a future king to be at least half a head shorter than everyone else my age. I’d like to have the kind of imposing stature that inspires admiration and respect in people.”
Do you prefer cities or the countryside? Warm weather or cold?
Looking conflicted, Korram stares out at the snowy peaks that surround us on every side. “I enjoy the mountains very much now that I’ve learned to survive in them – at least, as long as I can stay down on the lower slopes where it’s reasonably safe. I love looking up and seeing all the rugged peaks and the open sky, and not having people and buildings all around me. But my life has never been about what I prefer. I’ll have to spend almost all my time in the city again once I’m king. I must admit that the warmer weather down there will be nice, though. I have no desire to ever weather another blizzard. I’m content to enjoy the snow from a distance now, thank you.”
What do you hope to accomplish? What keeps you from achieving your goal?
“Well, considering who I am, it’s probably obvious that I hope to become king. Legally I should be able to in a few more months, but Regent Rampus is standing in my way. He’s been ruling Malorn since my father died, and if I know him, he’s going to do anything it takes to stay in charge. That’s why I’m here in the Impassables in the first place. If I can’t recruit my own army, I don’t stand a chance against him.”
I hear that Rampus stopped you right as you were setting out for the mountains. What was that about?
“He wanted to assassinate me. That is, he invited me in for breakfast and to wish me success on my journey, but I know him better than that. He tried to send guards with me, supposedly to protect me on my trip, but I’m certain that the moment we left the city and there were no witnesses, they would have surrounded me and killed me. And of course I had to pretend not to suspect anything, or he would probably have had them turn on me then and there in the inn. But finally I managed to convince him that my mission – which he thinks is to recruit Mountain Folk soldiers for Malorn’s regular army to help protect us against Alasia – wouldn’t work if I brought guards along. He did insist on sending a servant, Trayven, whose real job I think was to guide me to places along the way where assassins would be waiting. But I set my own route and never went any of the ways Trayven suggested, so I’ve managed to stay alive so far. And he’s gone now anyway, so I don’t have to worry about that anymore.”
You’ve been living with the Mountain Folk for quite some time now. Most Malornians would say they’re dangerous; ignorant; dirty savages. What made you decide to seek their help in the first place, and what’s your secret to getting along with them?
“Kalendria would say they’re dirty, that’s for certain; but so am I, now.” Korram gestures at the deerskin tunic and breeches he’s wearing, stained all over with mud, grass, grease, and what might be hints of blood. He spreads out unwashed hands to show me how grubby they are. “Hot baths and soap don’t exist up here in the Impassables, and there are no servants to do the laundry. Oh, the Mountain Folk do wash their clothes and themselves in the streams now and then, but that isn’t very practical when the weather is this cold – and really, what’s the point? You just get dirty again.” He chuckles. “I suppose my personality is better suited to mountain life than palace life. Not that I would let that keep me from my responsibilities,” he hastens to add. “But back to your question. I decided to seek their help because they’re the only segment of Malornian society Rampus doesn’t control in some way. They’re nomadic and they live in an area very hard to access from the Lowlands, so he can’t tax them, bribe them, threaten them, or manipulate them. They don’t live in fear of what he might do if they displease him, and they have nothing to gain by siding with him. Who better to recruit to help me? And as for the ‘secret’, it really isn’t a secret at all. I just had to demonstrate that I respected them and wasn’t here to take advantage of them as so many Lowlanders try to. I joined them in their daily tasks and asked them to teach me what they knew. And I’ve come to understand that although their culture is different, they’re no less kind, intelligent, or even civilized – in their own way – than anyone else.”
Finish this sentence: I have never told anyone this before but….
Korram hesitates. “I feel angry with my father a lot. I know it’s stupid, considering that he’s dead. But back when he was alive, he was always so busy that he never spent much time with me. I’m not saying he should have taken time away from his responsibilities as king, but I wish he had bothered to show me more of how it worked. I mean, my tutors taught me all about the ins and outs of Malornian government, but I didn’t get to see much of it in action. You would think a king would want his only son to see how he rules, but I never got much of that. It wasn’t until after his death that I started attending High Council meetings, for example. I suppose Father probably thought I was too young and that he had the rest of his life to teach me what I needed to know about ruling a kingdom.” Korram’s voice is bitter. “Well, the rest of his life wasn’t very long.”
What is your idea of success?
“If I can convince enough Mountain Folk to join my army, then I’ll be able to stand against Rampus. I’m not sure if that will involve actually fighting him and the regular army, or if simply seeing that I’m protected will be enough to keep him from trying anything. But either way, my first goal is to raise an army, my second is to stay alive until my eighteenth birthday, and my third is to remove Rampus from the picture and become king of Malorn. If I can do all three, I will have succeeded.”
After you become king, do you think you’ll ever return to the mountains?
“I hope so.” But Korram looks sad. “To be honest, though, I doubt it. Oh, maybe a day trip into the foothills now and then, but probably not much more than that. The Impassables are too far from Sazellia, and a king can’t just leave his responsibilities for weeks at a time to go traipsing through the wilderness.” He gazes around at the snow-clad peaks rising above us and sighs. “But the mountains will always be part of me now. I’ve changed and learned so much here that leaving the Impassables behind will be like abandoning a piece of myself.”
Have there been any times since you left the city when you were certain things just were not going to turn out right?
“Quite a lot of times.” He grins. “The third night on this trip I just returned from, for one. I hadn’t had much to eat for the last couple of days and I thought I was going to starve – but little did I know I would come much closer to starvation later. There was a terrific thunderstorm that night, and I was drenched to the bone and had nowhere to take shelter. I was cold, hungry, and miserable; I couldn’t sleep and thought I’d never live through the night. But things got better in the morning – and then of course they got worse again. Much worse. I nearly died several times: from hypothermia, starvation, dehydration, and between the jaws of bears and a snowcat. But I kept thinking how thrilled Rampus would be if I never returned, and that gave me the strength to keep going. And the good thing is, no matter what hardships I face through the rest of my life, I know they’ll be no match for me now. Not after the difficulties I’ve already faced and conquered. I’ll be a better king someday because of what I’ve been through.”
The following scene is an excerpt from my novel Prince of Malorn, scheduled to be released on Amazon on May 16th.
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Korram saw the snowcat shift a little on the rock. Is it getting ready to spring? His heart pounding anew, he took a quiet step forward, and then another. He had to get closer, just in case.
Now he stood right at the bank of the stream, only about ten feet behind the creature. It was perched out in the middle of the water, maybe eight feet from the edge. What was he supposed to do? He supposed he could wade out to the rock it was on, but he didn’t fancy battling a powerful animal in the middle of a river, let alone at the brink of a waterfall. That scenario didn’t seem likely to end well.
The snowcat shifted again, gathering its hind legs under its body. Its tail, stretched out behind, twitched a little. Korram had seen Sir Fluffle gather himself just like that before he lunged at a squirrel in the palace garden.
This is it, he thought desperately. I have to do something now! But he wouldn’t panic and throw his spear this time. Gripping the weapon with his right hand, he snatched up a loose pebble with his left and flung it at the cat, yelling, “Over here!”
The snowcat turned its head, saw him, and bared long gleaming teeth in a snarl. Korram felt a stab of guilt at the glimpse of a red stain on its chest, and knew the cat was indeed angry and in pain. He gripped the spear in a two-handed stance as he had seen Ernth do, bracing his feet. “All right, come on! Over here! Let’s get this over with.” He wasn’t at all sure which of them would survive the encounter, but he couldn’t think of anything else to do.
But the snowcat did not leap across the water to attack him. It turned its head once more to stare over the cliff, and Korram saw its muscles bunch and ripple as it shifted position again. It was going to leap over the waterfall! Ernth had said snowcats were clever. Apparently it had made the choice between the enemy who was ready for him and the one who was not.
“Hey! Hey! Over here!” Korram yelled again, dashing forward along the bank and waving his arms. But the beast paid him no attention, and Korram knew there was only one remaining course of action, one chance he had to save Ernth’s life. Without pausing to consider the consequences, he leaped into the water and splashed his way toward the rock where the creature crouched.
The streambed was slippery underfoot, and icy water rushed into his deerskin boots, filling them and slowing him down. The current was stronger than he had expected, and for a moment Korram was afraid he would be swept off his feet and over the falls. Desperately he braced himself against the force of the water and lunged forward.
He was only one step away from the rock when the snowcat sprang. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion as Korram saw its body lengthen, its forelegs reaching out and over. Desperate, he leaped too, spear extended. His other arm stretched out in a frantic attempt to grab, to hold the creature back, to slow it down, to somehow stop what could no longer be stopped. He felt the tip of his weapon strike flesh as he seized a handful of thick fur. The animal was still leaping, pulling him forward with it, but he was half on top of it now, and he could feel the bulging muscles of its haunches rippling beneath his chest.
It gave a strangled cry, half snarl, half scream, and whirled around, flailing its claws at him. Korram struck out with his spear again, still clutching a handful of fur. Then he felt his ribs hit the edge of the rock, and he realized that his head was lower than the rest of him and that the snowcat’s momentum was pulling them both over the edge.
He had a quick glimpse of Ernth balancing on a boulder at the foot of the falls, poking his spear through the curtain of water, and of the astonished expression on his face as he caught sight of Korram and the snowcat toppling over the edge toward him. Then there was no time to notice anything else before Korram felt himself tumbling through the air, still clutching the writhing animal, a curtain of water shimmering all around them.