http://10weekwriterschallenge.com/
Several days ago I downloaded a little eBook that was free at the time:
The Busy Writer’s Guide to Plot by
Marg McAlister. It’s a quick and easy read; I ended up finishing it in two sittings, and I think I must have highlighted about a quarter of the book. I couldn’t believe how much useful information there was packed into such a short volume!
The author suggests a unique approach to planning out a book’s plot: set aside one hour, broken into several segments, and in each segment of time, jot down ideas about a specific aspect of the plot. Her method is designed for people trying to come up with ideas for a story they’re about to write. However, it would work just as well for someone who already has a plot in mind and wants to strengthen it, or even someone who’s already in the middle of a writing project. Whether you’re a published professional or a ten-year-old writing stories for fun, I recommend this resource!
I sat down to outline the plot of the book I’m currently writing,
Prince of Malorn (in the same series as
Prince of Alasia and
In the Enemy’s Service, which you can read more about by clicking on the book covers in the sidebar to the right). Even though I’m over halfway through and already know where I want the plot to go, McAlister’s book helped me see several ways in which I could improve it and add tension. I actually got interrupted a total of eight (EIGHT!) separate times while I was going through the suggested hour-long planning time, so it ended up taking more like three or four hours. But in the end I was quite satisfied with the results!
Here’s the review I wrote for The Busy Writer’ One-Hour Plot on Amazon:
*****
This is one of the most useful writing resources I’ve ever seen! I already have two published books and am working on two more, and when I first started reading, I thought, “Next time I start a new book, I’ll definitely have to try this method.” But by the time I got half way through, I had decided I needed to put my current writing projects on hold until I’ve outlined the plots using the One Hour method, even though I already have them planned out in my mind. I can see that using the techniques in The Busy Writer’s One Hour Plot will make them much better. I heartily recommend this resource for anyone interested in writing fiction, whether professionally or as a hobby. Now I’m going to buy the
One-Hour Character book by the same author.
http://media-cache-lt0.pinterest.com/
Sure enough, I did buy
The Busy Writer’s One-Hour Character the day after I finished the Plot book. I read it in one sitting and immediately sat down to type up what I’d learned. Korram, Thel, Ernth, and the other characters in
Prince of Malorn will grow more through the course of the story and have clearer relationships with each other now!
The author recommends using paper note cards, but for the activities in both books, I decided to make my own digital note cards; I just prefer to keep things on the computer. Actually, I made blank templates as well so I can easily fill them in another time when I’m working on a new book. If you’ve read one or both of McAlister’s books and would be interested in creating your character/plot note cards digitally too, I would be glad to share the templates I typed up. Just email me at valiera (at) yahoo (dot) com and I’ll send them over!
Here’s the review I wrote for The Busy Writer’s One-Hour Character on Amazon:
*****
I read one of Marg McAlister’s other books,
The Busy Writer’s One Hour Plot, and immediately knew I had to get this one too. I seldom pay for eBooks anymore, with so many available for free all the time, but this would have been worth twice the price. I’m over half way through the book I’m writing at the moment, and even though I thought I already “knew” my characters pretty well, I now have lots of great ideas for how to develop them further and make them more vivid. I recommend this useful resource to any fiction writer!
I’m always looking for good writing resources. If you have others you recommend, please feel free to mention them in the comments. Thanks!
Also, I emailed Marg McAlister and she was kind enough to email back (very promptly!) with the links to two of her websites which writers might find useful:
http://www.writing4success.com/ (hundreds of articles on writing, ecourses to sign up for, and all sorts of other resources for writers)
http://writing4success.com/blog/ (her blog, also featuring writing-related articles: some her own, others by guest bloggers)
This week I had the opportunity to read and review an eBook by author
Staci Stallings, who I recently had the pleasure of meeting on a Christian Writers’ forum on Facebook. Her book
Keys to Creating a Successful Book Marketing Strategy is a resource I was excited to get my hands on, and now I’m eager to start implementing her advice. Below her picture and brief biography is the review I wrote for the book on Amazon (I gave it four stars).
A stay-at-home mom with a husband, three kids and a writing addiction on the side, Staci Stallings has numerous titles for readers to choose from. Not content to stay in one genre and write it to death, Staci’s stories run the gamut from young adult to adult, from motivational and inspirational to full-out Christian and back again. Every title is a new adventure! That’s what keeps Staci writing and you reading.
My Review:
Keys to Creating a Successful Book Marketing Strategy is a great little book for writers, especially (but not only) new indie writers who are looking for ways to actually make money on the books they’ve worked so hard to publish. The chapters are short and easy to get through quickly, but they’re packed with useful information, much of which you could sit down and apply right away.
As I read, I kept highlighting details that I want to be able to refer back to and make sure I’m doing right. It wasn’t so much that the information consisted of totally new concepts (although some of it was new to me). Much of it is common sense, at least in retrospect. It was more just that everything Stallings said clicked into place in a way that made me understand what I probably should have known all along. I kept thinking, “Yes – that’s me! She’s describing my mistakes exactly!” 🙂 And thanks to her, now I know how to start fixing them.
Stallings not only explains what to do, she hands out many of the tools necessary to do it. For example, one useful feature in the book is a list of dozens of sites where authors can get their books reviewed online (which I can hardly wait to start looking into)! That alone would probably make it worth the purchase price.
“If content is king, then skills are queen,” Stallings says. I feel like the royal couple is now ready to at least begin their joint reign in my writing and marketing!
I didn’t give the book five stars because I did find a few typos, and now and then I thought things could have been phrased/presented a little more clearly (hey, I’m a teacher, I can’t help but notice these things!). Occasionally the author sounded uncertain about her own information, saying things like, “I believe there is a way to…” In the section about packaging your content, I would have liked a bit more info about specific sites and what to do with them. For example, it mentioned “alternative sites like Squidoo and Redditt” and “YouTube, etc.” but didn’t really say how writers can make use of them. I know this book is intended as a brief overview of book marketing and can’t talk about everything, but I would have liked just a little more.
Overall, Keys to Creating a Successful Book Marketing Strategy is well written and a very useful resource. I love that it not only gives information and advice but also directs readers to helpful sites and other resources. I whole-heartedly recommend this book as a worthwhile investment for writers.
I’m excited to announce that as of this morning, In the Enemy’s Service is available from Amazon.com! Click here to order the Kindle version of this young adult action/adventure fantasy novel for just $2.99. You can buy the paperback here for $9.99. It is also available in other formats such as Nook, Sony Reader, and Kobo here.
Below is the prologue to whet your appetite. Enjoy! Please tell your friends!
Anya stared glumly at her plate. The little half-eaten mound of cabbage seemed to stare back at her, mocking her hunger. She took her time finishing her final bite of bread with its thin scraping of butter, trying to make it last.
“Can’t we have something else, Father?” she begged, poking at the cabbage with her fork. “How about dessert? I could make us a pie.”
From across the table, her older brother Arvalon chuckled scornfully. “With what? There’s no fruit in the house, and we’re out of sugar anyway.”
“And we need the last of the flour for tomorrow’s bread,” their father reminded them. “I’m sorry. I know you’re hungry, but just finish up your vegetables for now. I’ll get paid tomorrow when that customer comes to pick up the lanterns he ordered. Then next week we’re taking another load of tea to Malorn, and if it sells well we’ll be fine for a while. In the meantime, we just have to tighten our belts a little. These things happen.”
Anya nibbled at her cabbage, resisting the urge to make a face. In spite of what her father had said, she couldn’t remember money ever having been this tight before. Father was a merchant, and although their family wasn’t rich, they had always had what they needed. But for some reason, everything seemed to have been going wrong with his business this summer. Customers had inexplicably cancelled orders, suppliers had been out of the items he wanted, goods he had bought in other towns to sell had spoiled or been damaged or stolen along the way. For weeks now, Father had worn a worried expression nearly all the time, and lately he had been spending every evening poring over the account books in his study. He hadn’t bought meat for the table in over a fortnight, and supper portions had been growing smaller and smaller. Now Anya and Arvalon were starting to grow worried too. What would happen if their family’s bad luck continued? Father refused to beg from the neighbors, and none of their relatives lived close by. Surely the three of them wouldn’t actually starve. Such things didn’t happen to people in real life. Did they?
When a knock sounded on the front door, Anya jumped up to answer it. Customers and business associates often stopped by in the evenings, so perhaps it was good news. Maybe someone wanted to place an order.
A young boy was waiting on the step. “Sorry to interrupt your supper,” he apologized when Anya let him into the dining room. “My father sent me to say he won’t be needing those lanterns after all.”
The three of them stared at him dismay. “Why not?” Arvalon demanded. “We brought them all the way from Wistra.” Anya knew that her brother had loaded the cart himself, padding the boxes carefully with straw so none of the valuable glass lanterns would break on the way. Father was training him to be a merchant too, and he took the job seriously.
The boy shrugged. “Father got some from someone else at a better price. Thanks anyway.”
When the door had shut behind him, a discouraged silence settled over the family. Arvalon was the first to break it. “What are we going to do now?”
Their father sighed. “Take the lanterns to the market, I suppose. Maybe Porlim can help me sell at least some of them.” He pushed back his chair and began pacing back and forth distractedly. “Why does this keep happening? I was counting on that sale. I haven’t even paid for them yet, and I don’t know when I’ll be able to now.”
“Which means we’ll owe interest,” Arvalon grumbled. “And those Wistran glassmakers never allow returns.”
And what about buying food? Anya wondered. She knew exactly how much money was left in the savings box Father kept under his bed, because she had borrowed the little key from his desk drawer and checked that morning when he thought she was getting ready for school. One silver coin and three coppers. That was all. She nibbled worriedly on her thumbnail, wondering what they would do when the coins were gone.
Catching sight of her expression, Father stopped pacing. “Don’t worry, Anya. And don’t bite your nails. Look at us, acting as though there’s no hope. Things will turn out all right.” He smiled, but it was what Anya had learned to recognize as his just for the children smile. He wasn’t really feeling cheerful. “Times are hard right now, but we’ll get through this.” Father looked around the room. “Why, we have lots of things in here that we barely use. If we have to, we’ll just do a little housecleaning and get rid of a few of them. Someone would probably pay good money for the silver candlestick, for example.”
“But that was Mother’s,” Anya protested. She had never actually known her mother, who had died ten years ago, when Anya was a baby. Mother’s special possessions were all they had left of her, and it felt disloyal to think of selling them. Surely things weren’t that bad yet.
Four coins in the money box. Yes, perhaps things were that bad.
Father retreated to his study to look over the accounts again, leaving his children to do their evening chores. Arvalon headed out to the stable to feed their two horses while Anya cleared the table, filled a bucket from the pump out back, and started washing dishes.
“That was the last of the hay,” Arvalon reported grimly, stomping back in and scraping the mud off his shoes.
Anya stared at her brother in alarm. How did horses tighten their belts? Maybe they could tighten their saddle girths.
At that moment there was another knock on the door. She and Arvalon looked at each other, neither eager to answer it this time. Could someone be bringing them more bad news?
“I’ll get it,” Anya finally volunteered when it didn’t appear that anyone else was going to. Drying her hands on the dish towel, she crossed the dining room and opened the front door.
A man she had never seen before stood there, holding a flat leather case like the one Father sometimes used for carrying sheets of parchment. “Good evening,” he greeted her with a smile. “I’m here to see Karro. Is he available?”
Anya turned to call her father, but he was already hurrying out of his study toward them. “Oh. It’s you. Well, come in.” He didn’t sound particularly happy about it, Anya thought, as the stranger wiped his feet on the mat and stepped inside. Actually, he seemed downright uncomfortable. Did he owe this man money, perhaps?
Father ushered the stranger into his study and closed the door behind them. An instant later the lock clicked, and Anya and Arvalon turned to each other in surprise. Their father had never locked them out before. Even important meetings usually took place in the sitting room, with tea or coffee and snacks for all. Arvalon, who was fifteen and would be a full partner in the business later that year when he finished school, was often invited to join in. Anya had seldom been interested in their discussions, preferring to practice her sewing or read a book, but Father normally didn’t mind if she sat with them and munched the snacks while she did it. So why was he locking the door now?
Beside her, Arvalon grinned. “You want to hear what they’re saying?”
“How?”
“I know a trick. I’ll show you.” Darting into the kitchen, he took two of the wooden cups she had just finished washing from the drain board and handed one to her. With a conspiratorial wink, he tiptoed to the study and set the mouth of his softly against the closed door, pressing his ear to the cup’s flat base.
Anya watched him doubtfully. “Are you sure we should be doing this?”
Arvalon frowned and put a finger to his lips. His expression was already distant as he listened, and Anya’s curiosity got the better of her. She placed her cup against the door beside his and pressed her ear against it. To her surprise, she could hear faint but distinct voices from the room beyond.
“So, have you thought over my offer?” the stranger asked.
“Yes,” their father replied, “but I’m not sure I’m comfortable with it. I want to know more.”
“You know all you need to,” the man assured him. “I’m prepared to pay you right now if you’re ready to show me what I’ve asked. And I have eleven potential customers just waiting to be put in touch with you from Mosra, Timenka, Drall, Sazellia, and here in Almar. Oh, and I know an innkeeper who’s looking to buy a number of glass lanterns to replace the torches he’s been using. You wouldn’t happen to have any in stock at the moment, would you?”
Anya and Arvalon exchanged surprised glances. “How do you know about that?” their father demanded, obviously equally surprised.
His guest chuckled. “I make it my business to know such things. And speaking of business, are you interested or not? I have their orders with me now, and I’ll send messages out to each of the eleven first thing in the morning if you’re ready to settle this tonight.”
There was a long silence. Then their father sighed. “Three more of my regular customers cancelled their orders this week. Four, counting the lanterns this evening. I don’t understand why that’s been happening to me so much lately; I mean, I’m not doing anything different. I’ve been working as hard as I always have, but everything keeps going wrong, and now the bills are piling up. I must admit it’s a tempting offer. But what are you going to do with the information?”
The stranger chuckled again. “A friend of mine wants to know, that’s all. What does it matter to you? A few marks with a pen, and your financial worries are over. Oh, and if it would make you feel any better, we never had this conversation.”
There was another long silence, and then Anya heard her father say, “Fine. Let me see it.” There was a crackly noise, like parchment being spread out, and a few moments later her father sighed again. “Well, there you go.”
She heard the jingle of coins; rather a lot of coins, from the sound of it. Were they silver? Gold? Surely no one would be paying for something that sounded this important in mere copper. Anya grinned, imagining steak and mashed potatoes on the menu for next week. Roast chicken with gravy. Peach pie. Apple tarts. Vanilla pudding. Lemonade.
“It’s been a pleasure doing business with you,” the stranger announced, and Arvalon jumped aside, dragging Anya with him into the kitchen an instant before the study door opened. They heard Father escort his guest out of the house before he returned to the study briefly and then to his bedroom. Putting the money away, Anya guessed.
“What do you suppose Father did to get all that?” Arvalon wondered in a low voice.
Anya couldn’t imagine. “I don’t know, but who cares? We’re not poor anymore!”
They both turned around as Father joined them in the kitchen, wearing his just for the children smile once again. “Who wants to go out to supper?”
“But we just finished supper,” Arvalon pointed out, puzzled. “Father, who was that man?”
“A new customer who paid in advance,” Father replied dismissively. “You call what we had supper? I’m still starving. Come on, get your coats and we’ll go find ourselves a real meal. How about that place by the beach that serves grilled shrimp? On the way over we’ll see if the bakery is still open and pick up something for dessert.”
“Hooray!” Anya ran for her room, delighted at the prospect of a proper meal and the end of belt-tightening season. But as she yanked her light summer coat out of the closet, she couldn’t help but wonder why Father didn’t want them to know the details of this arrangement. He had never been secretive about his work before.
When she returned to the dining room, her father was already waiting, his own coat over his arm.
He didn’t see her coming as he leaned against the doorjamb, staring down at the floor.
There was no question about it, his expression was troubled.
But he looked up quickly as his son and daughter entered the room, and Anya knew the smile he put on was artificial once again as he beamed at them from the doorway.
“Everything is going to be all right now.
Our troubles are over.
Let’s go celebrate!”
Click here for information about Prince of Alasia, the first book in the series.
Here’s the first chapter of my first book, Prince of Alasia. Take a look (or direct your friends over to take a look) and see what you think!
Know a friend who enjoys young adult fantasy or action/adventure stories? Use the “give as a gift” button on Amazon to send them a copy! Below are the links to buy or give it.
And remember, you don’t need a Kindle to read Kindle books. Any computer will do if you download the free Kindle application from Amazon. Kindle apps are also available for iPad, iPhone, iPod Touch, Blackberry, Android, Windows Phone, etc.
Prince of Alasia (kindle version)
Prince of Alasia (paperback version)
Prince of Alasia
Chapter 1
Jaymin knew he would never forget that terrible night.
He was sound asleep in his room in the palace when Erik, his youngest bodyguard and closest friend, shook him abruptly awake.
“Jaymin! Jaymin, wake up! Something awful is happening,” Erik had hissed in a frantic whisper.
Groggy and disoriented, Jaymin sat up in bed, clutching the heavy woolen blankets to his chest. For a split second he couldn’t understand what Erik was talking about, and then from somewhere in another part of the palace he heard muffled shouts and the metallic clash of swords.
Swords? In the palace? Suddenly wide awake, Jaymin shoved back the blankets and sprang out of bed, fumbling in the chilly near-darkness for his clothes. The fire in the grate across the room had died down to glowing embers, and at this time of year the air had a bite to it, even indoors. He shivered as he snatched up the garments a servant had laid out for him the evening before.
“Hurry,” Erik whispered urgently, yanking a coat on over his night clothes and gliding over to listen by the door. Outside, the sounds of swords and shouting were growing louder.
Why hasn’t anyone come to tell me what’s happening?Jaymin wondered, tugging his tunic over his head. Where were the guards who always patrolled the corridor at night? “Guards!” he called out just in case, raising his voice as he jammed his feet into his shoes. “Guards?”
“Shh!” Erik hissed, gesturing frantically at him to be quiet, his ear still glued to the crack by the door. There was no other response.
Suddenly Erik leaped back, and the next instant the door flew open, making Jaymin jump. Erik slid instantly into position, slipping into a defensive half-crouch with both hands in front of him, ready for action. He had no weapon, but he needed none. Erik was an expert in unarmed combat, and although he was just a boy, his skills made him the perfect bodyguard for the young prince.
Those skills were not needed now, however. Into the room swept Sir Edmend, a loyal member of the king’s Council of Advisors. He, too, wore only a coat over his night clothes, and his graying hair stuck out in all directions. He was followed closely by a nervous-looking young guard with a drawn sword, his blue and white uniform damp with sweat in spite of the night’s chill.
“Your Highness!” Sir Edmend, out of breath and looking anxious but relieved, hurried up to Jaymin as Erik slid silently aside. “Thank goodness you’re still safe – I thought for certain they’d be in here before now. Quick, come with us.”
“Don’t worry, your Highness, I’ll protect you,” the guard added proudly, flourishing his sword with a dramatic flair. Though Jaymin couldn’t recall his name, he recognized the young man as the newest member of the palace guard. He had taken the oath of allegiance only last week, and was full of that enthusiasm and eagerness for action that new guards often displayed.
“What’s happening?” Jaymin demanded, as he and Erik followed Sir Edmend through the bedroom door, half-running to keep up with his swift strides. The guard paused to quietly pull the door shut and then hurried after them, boots thudding in a staccato rhythm on the hard stone floor. “Where are we going?”
“This way.” Without answering the first question, the old advisor led them rapidly down the wide hallway, strangely deserted, though from just around the corner they could hear shouts and screams and crashing noises, as if doors were being broken down. His heart pounding with excitement and confusion, Jaymin hastened after Sir Edmend away from the sounds, following him into a smaller hallway used mainly by servants. The alarming noises grew fainter as the four of them hurried down back staircases and little used corridors, lit only by the occasional smoky lamp and by moonlight streaming through the windows. Now and again they passed frightened servants scurrying about, but aside from the young man behind him, Jaymin didn’t see a single guard anywhere. Had they all deserted? Been killed? Left their posts to go fight whoever was breaking down the doors? Or were the guards themselves the ones causing all the commotion?
From somewhere ahead and to the left came the bang of a door being flung open, and bellowing voices and heavy footsteps burst forth, startlingly close. Sir Edmend stopped in his tracks so abruptly that the others nearly plowed into him. Jaymin grabbed Erik’s arm for balance as the guard bumped into them both, almost knocking them over. They all glanced around frantically for somewhere to hide as the shouting voices drew nearer.
“In here!” Erik whispered, yanking open the door of a closet on their left and pushing Jaymin inside. The others crowded in after him, stumbling against mops and brooms and bundles of dusting rags as they squeezed into the tiny space. Jaymin knocked his head on a shelf in the closet’s dim interior as Sir Edmend backed in against him, trying to pull the door shut. But the little closet was not designed to hold four people, and the door wouldn’t quite close. They all held their breath and watched through the crack as half a dozen soldiers charged by brandishing swords and torches, shadows fleeing before them and sweeping after as they passed. Jaymin was hardly surprised, at this point, to see that their uniforms were not the familiar blue and white livery of the palace guard, nor the dark green of the Alasian army, but wine-red and black.
“They’re Malornians, aren’t they?” he guessed, frowning in confusion, after the shouting had faded and Sir Edmend had finally sighed with relief and let the door swing open.
His father’s friend swatted at a couple of brooms that had toppled over against him and gave a brusque nod as he peered both ways before stepping back out into the hall. “Yes, I think so. I don’t know how they got in, but there seem to be more of them than of our people in the palace now.”
“And outside in the city, too,” added the young guard grimly, pulling his boot out of the mop bucket it had been wedged in and ushering Jaymin out of the closet ahead of him. “Have you looked through a window lately? Almar seems to be swarming with Malornian soldiers. We have to get you away from here, your Highness.” A sudden volley of distant screams from the direction in which the soldiers had disappeared punctuated his words, and he glanced around nervously, gripping his sword hilt with white knuckles.
The four of them set off down the corridor once more, their steps even faster now. Jaymin tried to puzzle out what was happening as he followed Sir Edmend down another narrow staircase. Malornian soldiers in Alasia? Was this the beginning of a war? But why would the Malornians attack his kingdom? Alasia and Malorn had no official alliance, but they had gotten along peacefully for decades.
The neighboring kingdom had been ruled by King Kerman until his death several years ago, and was now under Kerman’s son, Prince Korram. Jaymin knew that Malornian law prevented the teenaged ruler from actually being crowned king until he turned eighteen, but he didn’t know much else about Korram. He had met the other prince only once, four years ago, but Jaymin would never have predicted Korram would someday send his army to attack Alasia for no apparent reason.
“Careful now,” Sir Edmend warned softly, motioning the little group to stand back as he paused before a door that stood ajar on the right, spilling torchlight into their corridor. “We have to get through the banquet hall here without being seen.” He leaned forward and peered in cautiously.
Jaymin could see the banquet hall in his mind. It was the largest room in the palace, with seating for over three hundred. Last night at supper it had been nearly full, but he knew it would be empty and bare now. They might be able to hide under the long wooden tables, he thought, if anyone came in before they got through. The room had five doors: this one, a matching one in the opposite wall, two small servants’ doorways leading to a kitchen, and the large double doors in the western wall, which always stood open to welcome guests on feast days.
Sir Edmend drew back and hastily stepped away from the door. “There are soldiers in there,” he whispered tersely. “Six of them. We’ll never get through.”
“Can’t we go a different way?” wondered the guard, casting anxious glances all around. “We can’t just wait here in the hallway. Someone’s sure to come along.”
He was obviously a little excited as well as scared, though he was trying hard to cover it, Jaymin thought. He looked young: probably no more than eighteen, and now facing a crisis his first week on the job. Jaymin would have to recommend that he receive a commendation for this later.
“There’s only one other way around, and it would take too long,” Sir Edmend groaned in frustration. “We have to get the prince out, and we have to do it now. They must be combing the palace for him already. It’s just a matter of time until….” He glanced at Jaymin and let his sentence trail off.
“But why –” Jaymin began, still confused.
“I know!” exclaimed the young guard in a sudden whisper, in his excitement probably not even realizing he had interrupted the prince. “We need a diversion. I know what to do.” Quickly but quietly, he pushed them all forward past the doorway, through which Jaymin caught a brief glimpse of tables and benches and a brightly tapestried wall, and stopped them just beyond the doorway, where the angle of the open door blocked their view into the room. Suddenly the guard seemed more nervous, his face paler than it had been a moment ago. “Wait here,” he breathed, shifting his sword from hand to hand as he wiped sweaty palms on his tunic. He paused, licked his lips, and glanced at Jaymin, looking as though he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words. Then he forced a grin and bowed, straightened his shoulders, gripped his sword, and pulled the door wide open, stepping boldly around it out of their sight.
“This way, your Highness,” he exclaimed in a loud voice, and then stopped short. “Oh, no! There are soldiers in here! Quick, go the other way! I’ll be right behind you.” He turned and they could hear him sprinting back down the hallway in the direction from which they had come.
Jaymin held his breath, frozen in place beside Erik, as voices roared from inside the banquet hall. “Did you hear that? He’s got the prince with him! After them!” There was the crash of a bench overturning and the thud of boots pounding across the floor. Jaymin, Erik, and Sir Edmend shrank back as the soldiers poured through the doorway and turned left, running full tilt down the hall. Jaymin risked a quick glance around the door and caught a glimpse of the young guard disappearing around a corner, half a dozen red and black clad soldiers in hot pursuit, before Erik grabbed his arm and jerked him back out of sight again.
Sir Edmend drew a deep breath as the booted footsteps faded in the distance. “Well, he’s cleared the way and bought us a little time, and I hope he lives to tell of it. Now let’s go.” They hurried into the banquet hall, staying around the edge to avoid having to weave between tables, and darted through one of the smaller doors into a shadowy kitchen. Then it was out of the kitchen through a back entrance and down a dark corridor through which they felt their way to an even darker staircase, half stumbling down its narrow, creaky steps.
Finally, the trio arrived at a low door in the wall of a damp cellar somewhere below the palace kitchens. Sir Edmend fished out a jingling bunch of keys from his coat pocket and inserted one into the keyhole. It turned reluctantly, as though the lock had not been touched for years, and the door finally opened with a grinding creak. Jaymin peered in, seeing only a low, narrow hallway, or possibly a tunnel, stretching into musty-smelling black nothingness.
“It’s a secret exit,” explained Sir Edmend, gesturing for them to enter. “It will take us out into the forest on the other side of the hills.” He groped around on a shelf just inside the doorway. “There should be candles in here somewhere.…”
“But we can’t just leave the palace,” protested Jaymin, belatedly realizing that they had not come here to meet his parents and make some sort of plan or at least escape together, as he had assumed. “Not if everyone is in danger. We’ve got to stay and help. I should be fighting beside my father. Where are my parents, anyway?”
Sir Edmend did not reply. He wouldn’t meet Jaymin’s gaze. “Your parents would have wanted you to leave, your Highness,” he murmured. “There’s nothing you can do here.”
And then Jaymin knew. He drew in his breath, and the world seemed to reel about him. Erik caught his arm to steady him, and Sir Edmend placed a compassionate hand on his shoulder.
“No,” Jaymin heard himself whispering hoarsely. “It can’t be true. It can’t. No!”
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This is the final interview I’ve done with characters from my second novel, In the Enemy’s Service, due out two weeks from tomorrow. Take a look at the first one, the interview with Anya, to read why I’ve been interviewing people from my world and where I got the idea in the first place.
I’ve chosen a table in a dimly-lit corner of the tavern, from which I can keep an eye on the door. Dannel sent word that he would meet me here, and I arrived early to pick out a spot where no one would overhear us. But I’m surprised when he materializes noiselessly out of the shadows nearby. I’ve been watching the door for the last ten minutes and didn’t see him come in.
“You’re in my seat.” He stands over me, smiling. “Please move.” Though his words are polite, something about the way he says them makes me shiver. I quickly get up and take the chair on the opposite side of the table.
“So. You wanted to talk to me?”
“Um, yes.” I glance quickly down at the paper I’ve brought. “I have a few questions, if you don’t mind.”
“By all means.” He gestures expansively. “I’ll be glad to give you whatever information you require. That is, after all, my business. But I’m sure you understand that I don’t work for free.”
I expected this, and have come prepared. I place a silver coin on the table between us. He raises an eyebrow at it doubtfully and then casts me a glance as though to say, Is that all my information is worth to you? But he shrugs and pockets the coin without a word.
1. Do you like your job? Why or why not?
Dannel chuckles. “I love my job! There’s nothing like the thrill of successful deception. Of course, that’s only a small part of what I do. I’m in the intelligence business, and deception is just one of the means I employ. It’s quite fulfilling, negotiating for the best possible price and then delivering critical information, usually to desperate people. But I offer other services too. If you ever need anyone taken out of the way, for example, I’m sure we could work something out.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I assure him. “Next question.”
Dannel affects a look of surprise. “You have more than one question? You’ve only paid me for one answer.”
I sigh and take out a couple more coins, which he accepts with a courteous nod of thanks.
2. Do you have any friends? Significant others?
“Of course not. That would require trust, and I would never make the mistake of trusting anyone.” Dannel glances around the tavern, his wary gaze confirming his words.
3. What is your idea of success?
“Infiltrating a target group, finding out exactly what I need to know while making them think they’re the ones I’m helping out, and convincing them to pay me for whatever I tell them I’m doing for them. Then simply disappearing afterward; and – depending on the mission – they might never see me again before they feel my dagger between their shoulder blades. And then returning to my grateful employer and getting paid even more to deliver the information I’ve learned, all the while planning the best time to sell him out to his enemies.”
I shudder, resolving to have nothing more to do with Dannel as soon as this interview is over.
4. What do you hate?
He doesn’t seem to have heard me, his eyes darting back and forth among the other patrons of the tavern. I resist the urge to glance behind me to see who he’s watching. Finally I realize why he hasn’t answered. Counting the questions remaining on my sheet, I reach into my pocket and hand him eight more coins. He counts them silently before sliding them into his own pocket.
“Stingy employers.”
5. What do you do in your spare time?
“Plan out the next job. Design disguises. Keep an eye on people and situations to see how I could use them for profit.”
“Surely you have some hobbies not related to work,” I press.
Dannel laughs. “You’d never believe me if I told you, so let’s just leave it at that.”
6. What did you have for breakfast?
“Today? Venison and fried potatoes at the Alasian army camp. They’ve been on short rations since the Invasion, so there wasn’t much of it. I bought some bread and fruit as soon as I got into Almar.”
7. Did you ever have a pet? Describe it.
“No. Pets mean attachment.”
8. Do you believe in luck? Why?
“Of course I do. I make luck. The ingredients are careful preparation and quick thinking.”
9. What is your favorite scent? Why?
He considers this for a moment. “Skin paint.”
“Skin paint?” I echo.
“It’s a handy mixture I designed,” Dannel explains. “I use it to give myself scars or a tan or other features I need for disguises. If I change the proportions a little, it works as hair dye too.” He smiles. “The scent of skin paint is the scent of danger, of excitement, of the thrill of a new mission and profit on the horizon.”
10. What is the strangest thing you have ever seen?
“Charity.”
11. What is the most frightening thing that has ever happened to you?
Dannel’s eyes grow distant. “It was a long time ago, back near the beginning of my career. I was working for a group of seafaring raiders; you know, the ones who attack coastal towns in those fast little ships, steal what they can, and then disappear among the rocky offshore islands. They were paying me to help identify the best targets. Long story short, the Alasian navy finally caught up with them, and there was a battle off the northwest coast. I was on one of the raiders’ ships at the time; they were outnumbered, and we got boarded. We all jumped overboard and tried to swim for shore, but most of us were caught and hauled on board one of the navy vessels. It was winter, and I was wet and freezing and terrified I’d get killed or stuffed in a prison along with the raiders. I was very young back then,” Dannel explains apologetically. “But I managed to work it out in my favor. I talked the captain into a deal, and ended up trading the location of their base for my freedom, a set of dry clothes, and ten gold coins.” He sighs, remembering. “I still regret not demanding twenty.”
I glance down at my list to double-check that that was the last question. “Well, thank you, Dannel. This has been most informative. I appreciate –” Wait. I peer around, my eyes searching the shadows, but his chair is empty. “Dannel?” I twist in my own chair to examine the rest of the tavern, but of course there is no sign of him. I feel my shoulder blades twitch nervously. “Dannel?”
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This is an interview with the character Eleya, midwife and physician’s assistant in the Alasian palace in my novel In the Enemy’s Service. For an explanation of why I’m interviewing my characters, click here.
As I cross the palace courtyard toward the clinic, Eleya meets me at the front door. “Come in, come in. It’s freezing out there!” A light whirl of snowflakes follows me through the door as she hurriedly shuts it behind me. “Come on upstairs to the sitting room. We can talk there without being interrupted.”
I follow her through the front room, where I interviewed Tonnis not long ago. There are no patients waiting on the benches at the moment, but I pause to stare at the splintered remains of what used to be a desk piled against one wall.
“Talifus,” Eleya explains, noting the direction of my gaze. “He came in here in a bad mood yesterday and took it out on the furniture and then on Anya. Luckily, she’s all right now. This was Dal’s desk, though; I don’t know what he’ll say when he sees what happened. If he ever does.”
She leads the way through another doorway into a back room, where I see a fireplace, cupboards, and an examining table under two hanging lamps. Down a hallway beyond are three closed doors and one open one, through which I hear voices.
“Tonnis and Anya are in there with our patient Wennish,” Eleya explains. “But we’re going up here.” She starts up a steep stairway to one side. At the top she turns right into a small sitting room containing a small sofa and two armchairs on a rug before another fireplace.
“Sorry about the mess,” Eleya apologizes, pushing aside a rumpled pile of bedding on the sofa. “This is where Anya sleeps now. You’re the first company we’ve had up here since the Invasion.”
I settle myself on one of the armchairs and pull out my list of questions. “Don’t worry about it.”
1. Do you like your job? Why or why not?
“Most of the time I do. I enjoy helping my husband Tonnis and our friend Dal in the clinic. The job I’m really trained for, which I don’t get to do as often, is midwife; I love helping to bring children into the world. Lately, though, most of what Tonnis and I have been doing is just helping the Malornians.” She sighs. “They killed hundreds of our people, and here we are helping heal their injuries and keep them healthy so they can mistreat more of us any time they like.” She shakes her head hopelessly. “But after all the threats they’ve made, what else can we do?”
2. Do you have any friends? Significant others?
“Not as many friends as I used to have. A lot of them were our coworkers here at the palace, and most of those are buried out back now.” She pauses to fish out a handkerchief and blow her nose. “But of course Tonnis is still here. I don’t know what I’d do without him. And young Anya lives with us now; she’s become almost like family in the last couple weeks. I’ve enjoyed teaching her to do simple tasks around the clinic; to knit – it’s almost like having a daughter.” Eleya smiles fondly.
3. What is your idea of success?
“Helping sick or injured people recover. Helping a mother bring a healthy baby into the world.”
4. What do you hate?
“People who hurt others on purpose.”
5. What do you do in your spare time?
“I like to knit, especially with Anya. In the evenings or when the soldiers aren’t keeping an eye on us, sometimes we’ll all sit and knit and talk down in Wennish’s room. In the past, sometimes Tonnis and I would read together up here, but I doubt we’d be allowed to take books from the palace library now.”
6. What did you have for breakfast?
“Bread with butter and jam, a couple slices of pear, and spiced tea.”
7. Did you ever have a pet? Describe it.
Eleya smiles. “I love cats. While I was growing up, my sisters and I always had at least one. But I haven’t had a pet since I’ve been married. Unfortunately, Tonnis doesn’t care much for cats, and besides, it wouldn’t work well to keep one here, where we live above the clinic.”
8. Do you believe in luck? Why?
She considers this. “No, I don’t think so. I believe in good and evil. When people do evil things, like the Malornians have done here, some might call it bad luck, but I think that takes the blame off those who deserve it. What we call good luck usually comes through people’s hard work and perseverance.”
9. What is your favorite scent? Why?
“Warm peach pie, maybe. I used to make it a lot, before we moved here.” She chuckles. “I haven’t done much cooking in years – being able to eat three meals a day in the palace dining hall, Tonnis and I are spoiled – but now and then on my day off I’ll go to one of my sisters’ or cousins’ houses and cook with them. Peach pie is still my specialty.”
10. What is the strangest thing you have ever seen?
Eleya thinks this over. “Once I saw four children riding a donkey down one of the main streets here in Almar. That wouldn’t be so unusual, except that it was during a heavy rainstorm, and the poor things were doing all they could to keep from getting wet. They’d gotten ahold of a wooden board, and the last girl was holding the back edge of it, trying to balance it over all their heads with one hand while holding on to her brother’s waist with the other. The little boy in the front had both his hands in the air to support the board, which stuck out past him and sheltered most of the donkey’s head, too. It was the girl behind him who was reaching around him to hold the reins. But the board was nearly as wide as it was long, so other people on the street kept having to dodge or they’d be hit by one edge or the other.” She stops to chuckle. “The funniest part was, three of the children didn’t even seem to realize they were doing anything odd. They were singing some song about the joys of rain and springtime at the top of their little lungs, and in three different keys, I might add. Only the oldest boy looked embarrassed, like he wished he could disappear right off of that poor donkey’s back.” She shakes her head, still chuckling. “Children are so much fun. Just thinking of it makes me miss my nieces and nephews.”
11. What is the most frightening thing that has ever happened to you?
Eleya’s smile fades, and abruptly her mood turns serious. “There’ve been a lot of frightening things since the Malornians came. The night of the Invasion was bad enough, but yesterday… yesterday eight people –” Her voice breaks, and she pulls out her handkerchief once more to dab at her eyes and blow her nose. “They were our friends, and most of them – well, half of them – hadn’t even done anything. I’ll never forget the look on Talifus’s face as he –” She breaks off again, shuddering, and I wait awkwardly while she buries her face in her handkerchief, her shoulders heaving silently. “It’s awful,” she whispers finally. “Just awful. We don’t know when they’re going to stop, who’s going to be next. The only thing left to hope is that Prince Jaymin is still safe and that he has some sort of plan. Otherwise, I’m afraid things are only going to get worse.”
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This is an interview with the merchant Karro, father of the ten-year-old protagonist in my novel In the Enemy’s Service. For an explanation of why I’m interviewing my characters, take a look at my interview with his daughter Anya.
Glancing at my directions to double check the address, I knock on the front door of the house I’ve been directed to. It’s a two-story brick building in a middle-class neighborhood in Sazellia, the capital of Malorn.
At the sound of my knock, the shutters on the front window open a crack as though someone is peeking out. A moment later there is the sound of a bolt being drawn back, and then the front door opens and Karro stands there, smiling nervously.
“Come in, come in. Sorry for the delay; I had to be certain who was out there.” He ushers me in and gestures toward a sofa in the comfortably furnished sitting room. A fire crackles in the fireplace nearby, and a lamp hangs from the ceiling, but with all the shutters closed, the room is still dim. “Please, make yourself at home,” Karro urges. “My son is out at the moment with my brother and his family, so we won’t be interrupted. Can I get you anything to drink?”
I decline his offer and pull out my notes as he seats himself in an armchair across from me.
1. Do you like your job? Why or why not?
“Oh, yes. I wouldn’t want to be anything but a merchant. I love to travel, and I enjoy making new contacts, striking bargains, picking out the best goods and planning the best places to sell them. I’ve been training my son Arvalon, who’s nearly ready to join me in the business, and it makes me so proud to see him learning and enjoying it too.”
2. Do you have any friends? Significant others?
A shadow seems to pass over his face. “My wife passed away ten years ago. But my son and daughter are the joy of my life, and we have a large extended family here in Sazellia. With my business, it’s been easy to make friends almost everywhere. In fact, I’d say I have friends in a dozen different towns back in Alasia, and nearly as many in Malorn.”
3. What is your idea of success?
Karro smiles. “Striking a good bargain. Buying a cartload of goods from someone who’s glad to get it off his hands for that price, then finding just the right people to sell it to somewhere else for just enough profit to make it worth it, while they consider it an amazing bargain and can’t wait to do business with me again.”
4. What do you hate?
He considers this. “Being cheated into buying damaged or low quality goods, though that doesn’t happen often. Heavy rain when I’m out on the open road. Being talked back to by one of my children or nieces or nephews.”
5. What do you do in your spare time?
“I’ve tried to spend as much time as possible with Arvalon and Anya since they lost their mother. I try to do some of the things she used to do – plan picnics, take them fishing or out to play on the beach in summer or in the snow in winter. In the evenings the three of us often cook dinner together, and sometimes I’ll read aloud to them afterwards.” He chuckles ruefully. “Arvalon thinks he’s getting too old for such things, and I suppose in a way he is, but Anya still enjoys it. Sometimes I’ll pull one or both of them out of school for a few days if I need a hand on one of my longer business trips. I really think the life experience and time with their father will do them more good in the long run than sitting in a classroom.” He sighs. “I’m glad I brought Arvalon along this time, but I would have brought Anya too if I’d known what was going to happen. Our family has never been separated for this long before, and I’m not sure how long it will be before we’re together again.” His expression is worried.
6. What did you have for breakfast?
“Molian sweetbread and a cup of coffee.”
7. Did you ever have a pet? Describe it.
“I have two horses, if you can call them pets. They’re work animals. My wife liked cats, so we had a few back when she was alive, before Anya was born. When I was a boy, I kept turtles.”
8. Do you believe in luck? Why?
He hesitates, and I see that his expression has grown uncomfortable. “I don’t know. I suppose so. I mean, I would probably have said no if you’d asked me a year ago, but….” His voice trails off. I wait expectantly, and finally, reluctantly, he goes on. “A few months ago I had what I can only describe as a run of very bad luck in my business. You know, deals turning sour, customers cancelling orders for no reason I could understand. Finances got tight, and I was worried. I couldn’t figure out why everything was going wrong all at once. I had to make some difficult decisions.” He fidgets, running his fingers idly along the arm of his chair, and as I watch him, he won’t meet my gaze. “So, do you have any more questions, or was that all?”
Wondering what it is he isn’t comfortable talking about, I turn back to my list.
9. What is your favorite scent? Why?
Karro seems relieved to be on a safer topic. “The tang of salt air, perhaps. I spent most of my childhood here in Malorn where my father is from. As you may know, Malorn only has a few miles of coastline before the mountains get in the way, and what there is is mostly rocky. The water is all swampy and silty around the Grenn Delta, so it isn’t exactly an ideal place to enjoy a day at the beach. But every now and then we’d travel to Alasia to visit my mother’s parents, and they lived close to a beautiful beach, perfect for sandcastles and swimming and all sorts of fun. Sometimes we’d see dolphins out in the surf, or seals sunning themselves. That beach was one of the reasons I chose to move to Almar almost as soon as I was grown.”
10. What is the strangest thing you have ever seen?
Karro thinks this over for a while. “I’ve seen a lot of interesting things in my travels, but strange?” Then he chuckles. “Ah, I know. A few years back I was crossing the Grenn River on the ferry, heading back home to Alasia with a cartload of Malornian coffee. It’s always a little frightening, standing by the horses on that big flat raft, hoping they don’t spook and capsize the whole thing, while the ferrymen pull you across on their pulley system. I always try not to look down at the water so close to my feet, but this one time, my attention was caught by a glimpse of something moving. You may not believe this, but it was a shark – a huge one, too; the biggest I’ve ever seen. Its dorsal fin cut through the water not three feet away, and the water was so clear I could see its whole body. It was longer than my cart; longer than the whole raft. I suppose it was lost, maybe disoriented in the fresh water, trying to find its way back down to the ocean. Don’t ask me how it managed to get thirty miles upstream from the coast.” He shakes his head in wonder. “I think about it every now and then, wonder if it ever did make it home.”
11. What is the most frightening thing that has ever happened to you?
Immediately, Karro grows uncomfortable once again. His gaze shifts to the floor, the fireplace, the tightly shuttered windows, but he doesn’t look at me. Finally he licks his lips and starts to speak, pauses, starts again, and stops. I wait, and finally he tries again.
“I’m sure you know about what happened two weeks ago. The Malornian army invaded Alasia; rumor has it they’ve killed the royal family and wiped out the Alasian army. It’s very disturbing, especially since my daughter is over there right now. She’s staying with my neighbors, who’ve always taken good care of her and Arvalon when I’ve been gone. But still, I’m worried about her.” He pauses, and I can tell he’s struggling between the need to get something off his chest and reluctance to speak about it.
“The thing is, I’m afraid I may be partly to blame for -” he begins, then breaks off abruptly. Rising to his feet, he begins pacing the room, chewing on his lower lip in distraction. “I didn’t mean any harm, but -” He breaks off again, pausing at one of the windows to pull the shutter open just far enough to peer out. “Anyway, as long as I stay in Malorn, what’s the worst that can happen? Nothing, of course. No one’s allowed across the border at the moment, so I know I’m safe. It’s just that -” He glances at the door. “I just have this awful feeling that someone’s going to – but of course that’s silly. Not with the Malornians in charge over there, and the Alasian government nonexistent now.” He sighs. “I love Alasia. It’s my home, or it was. I love Malorn too, but I don’t know what possessed Prince Korram to attack a peaceful kingdom the way he did. And I don’t know what’s going to become of Alasia now, but in the unlikely event that the kingdom ever struggles back to its feet and somehow throws off Malornian control, I don’t think I can ever go back.” His voice catches for a moment, and he turns away.
“I don’t dare,” he whispers finally, desperation in his voice. “But I’ll be safe as long as I stay on this side of the river, right? Even in peace time, the Alasian authorities would never -” He breaks off once more, shaking his head with a sigh. “I’ve got to send for Anya as soon as they start letting people across again,” he tells me finally. “There’s no future for us in Alasia anymore.”
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This is an interview with the character Talifus, the Alasian traitor who betrayed his kingdom in my novel In the Enemy’s Service. For an explanation of why I’m interviewing my characters, click here.
Lieutenant Talifus has agreed to meet with me in a tavern in the city of Almar, not far from the Alasian royal palace. When I arrive, he is already seated at a table with a tankard of ale, staring morosely into its depths. He barely nods as I sit down across from him.
“Questions, eh? Fine, go ahead. You won’t tell the Malornians anything I tell you?” I assure him I won’t.
1. Do you like your job? Why or why not?
Talifus scowls. “I hate my job. Those stinking Malornians tricked me! Before the Invasion I was a captain; they promised to promote me but instead I got demoted to lieutenant. I have to work under Captain Almanian. I should have been his superior by now.” He sighs angrily. “Not that I liked my job all that much even before. You know, I never really wanted to be on the palace guard. As a boy, I always pictured I’d join the army, where there’s plenty of room for advancement. It only goes up to captain in the palace. What more is there to strive for when you’re already at the top?”
“So why did you join the palace guard in the first place?” I prompt.
“Well, King Jaymin put me on it, and you can’t really say no to the king. Though I see now that I should have. He was nearsighted enough to think he was doing me a favor, I suppose. You see, my father was captain of the guard years ago when his father – Jaymin II – was on the throne. The two of us sort of grew up together here in the palace, but we were never close friends. Our fathers died in battle together when we were both sixteen, and I suppose Jaymin III thought he owed me something. He knew I was a good fighter, so after they crowned him king he gave me a position on the palace guard. I pretended I appreciated it – what else could I do? – and started working my way up the ranks, and here I’ve been ever since. Until the Malornians offered me the chance at something better, and then broke their promises, those filthy stinking liars.”
2. Do you have any friends? Significant others?
“Not anymore. All the Alasians I know hate me, and the Malornians don’t trust me. Nobody respects me anymore.”
3. What is your idea of success?
“Promotion. Power. Wealth. All of which I was supposed to get after I helped them invade.” He glares at me as though it were my fault. “I gave up everything to help the Malornians. Everything! And what did I get in return? Broken promises and demotion.” He slams a fist down on the table. “It’s all Captain Almanian’s fault. He’s ruined my life.”
4. What do you hate?
“Those filthy Malornians, of course. Almanian, especially. Someday I’m going to make sure he gets what he deserves for what he did to me.” Talifus takes a swallow from his cup and thumps it angrily back down on the table, ale sloshing over his fingers.
5. What do you do in your spare time?
“Try to plan ways to get even with them. And drink.” Talifus wipes his hand on his breeches, still scowling. “It’s their fault I started drinking. I hardly touched a drop until the day that messenger approached me with Regent Rampus’s offer and I began planning how to help them invade. Now I can’t seem to stay away from the bottle. I never used to be like this. Well, not as much.”
6. What did you have for breakfast?
“I didn’t have breakfast today. My stomach was acting up after last night’s wine. I’ve still got a headache.” He mutters something under his breath about “that cursed Almanian”.
7. Did you ever have a pet? Describe it.
“No. I don’t like animals.”
8. Do you believe in luck? Why?
“Yes. I’ve had nothing but bad luck for weeks now.”
9. What is your favorite scent? Why?
This makes him pause. “I don’t know. Fresh oatcakes, maybe. My parents and I, that used to be our favorite breakfast together in the dining hall when I was a boy. As we sat and ate, my father often used to talk to me about the future, about the army career he was going to help me get, about all the power and privileges I’d have when I was an officer.” Talifus sighs. “It never bothered him that I didn’t want to follow in his footsteps. He had contacts in the army who he was sure would help get me on the fast track to success. We often talked about it at breakfast before he went off to work, and I still associate oatcakes with the promise of a bright future.” He sighs again. “Now that all the Alasians here have to do what I say, I sometimes make Lutian cook them for me even when they’re not on the day’s meal plan. But for some reason they don’t seem to taste as good anymore.”
10. What is the strangest thing you have ever seen?
Talifus’s eyes grow distant. “You don’t expect to see a company of hundreds of soldiers moving in complete silence. I don’t know how they did it that night. Wrapped their boots in cloth, maybe, to muffle the sound of their footsteps. And it was a dark night, perfect for their plans: no moon, and the sky was overcast. I was expecting them, but even so, I hardly realized they were coming until they were right there before the palace gates in a silent throng. Not a single footstep, not a whisper, barely the slightest rustle of movement. If it hadn’t been for the torches by the gate, I would hardly have known anyone was even close by. And yet there they were, ready to change my life and Alasia’s.” He sips distractedly from his tankard. “You wouldn’t think life-changing events would slip in so silently. Maybe that’s why it seemed so strange, so out of place. You’d expect an invading army to charge in with trumpets and war horses and battle cries. You don’t expect them to just appear out of the darkness like a horde of ghosts in front of your home.”
11. What is the most frightening thing that has ever happened to you?
Talifus looks away, and for a moment I think he isn’t going to answer. When he speaks again, his voice is lower, and I have to lean forward to hear.
“It was that same night, of course. The night of the Invasion. There were four of us guards who knew what was about to happen, and I had arranged the schedule so that two of us were on duty at the gates and the other two at the main door, ready to let the Malornians in.” He chews his lip, fiddling with the handle of his cup. “You ever have one of those moments where it seems like your future is teetering on the edge of a blade? You need to make a quick decision, and you know that one way or another your life is never going to be the same afterward. And you’re terrified you’re about to make the worst mistake of your life.” He sighs heavily. “Not that I really had much of a choice by that time, you know? I had already agreed to help them. The arrangements had all been made. They’d paid me an advance – not a terribly big one, considering everything I was doing for them, but they’d promised a lot more would be coming afterward. And now there they were, waiting outside the gate while I stood guard up top, and I had a split second where I almost….” His voice trails off and he closes his eyes, shaking his head hopelessly. When he lifts his tankard for another gulp of ale, I see that his hands are shaking.
“But I did it, of course,” he continues finally. “I had to. I had to! They would have killed me if I’d backed out of the deal then, and the other three would have let them in anyway, so what would have been the point? I had no choice, really.” It isn’t clear whether Talifus is trying to convince me or himself. “Almanian was there at the front, and I led him across the courtyard and into the palace, showed him and his men the way through the corridors. I’d tried to keep the duty schedule as light as I could that night, but I had to assign some guards to each floor or it would have looked suspicious. We killed them all. We had to. I didn’t want to do it, but there was no other way. And I didn’t realize the Malornians were going to kill everyone, even those off duty and asleep. That part wasn’t my fault! And when Almanian made me lead the way to the king and queen’s room, I – I – I -” Talifus breaks off again, his voice anguished, trembling all over now. “I swear I didn’t know what they were going to do! The messenger hadn’t said anything about that part! I never thought they’d harm King Jaymin. Just take him captive, maybe, along with the queen; make him a puppet ruler in their new government, or something. How could I have known? How could I? You can’t blame me for what they did!” His head sinks into his hands and he groans. “I’ll never forget that moment, waiting outside their door with Lasden while Almanian went in. By then it was obvious, but what could I do? Lasden was watching me with his sword ready like he knew I was having doubts, and their people were all around. I couldn’t have done anything if I’d wanted to. I wouldn’t have stood a chance. There was no point in trying.” He buries his face in his hands again. “It wasn’t my fault,” he moans once more.
I wait, but for a long time Talifus remains motionless. Finally he fumbles for his cup and drains the rest of his ale in one gulp. Glancing across the room, he catches the bartender’s eye and gestures with the empty cup. The man hurries over with a pitcher to refill it, and Talifus raises it again, sucking the contents down almost desperately, as though he thinks the only solution to his anguish lies at the bottom of the cup.
Finally he pauses for breath and looks up, seeming surprised to see me still sitting there. “You’re done, aren’t you? Leave me alone now, all right?” Without waiting for me to leave, he turns back to his ale.
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| This is about how I picture Rampus. |
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This is an interview with the character Rampus, regent of Malorn and conqueror of Alasia in my novel In the Enemy’s Service. For an explanation of why I’m interviewing my characters, click here.
Pushing my way through the heavy blue curtain that hangs across the entrance, I step into the throne room of the Alasian palace. Regent Rampus sits on the ornate golden throne in the center of the room, watching regally as I approach along the red carpet.
“Thank you for being willing to meet with me, sir,” I greet him, stopping before the throne. “I have a few questions for you, if you don’t mind.”
He waves his hand expansively. “What better way for the people of Alasia to get to know their new ruler? By all means, ask what you will.”
“Very well, sir.” He does not offer me a seat, so I pull out my pencil and parchment and prepare to write standing up.
1. Do you like your job? Why or why not?
“Of course I like my job.” He laughs as though this is a stupid question. “Regent is the most important job there is, except for king, of course. But since his royal highness Prince Korram is still too young to take on that position, I gladly offer him the benefit of my counsel and services.
The young prince is so grateful for my years of experience and the load I daily shoulder on his behalf. All of Malorn benefits along with him, of course, and I humbly submit that our kingdom has thrived under my management as never before in its history. And now Alasia and its citizens are beginning to experience the benefits of my leadership as well.”2. Do you have any friends? Significant others?
The regent laughs again. “Need you even ask? All of Malorn is my friend. My kingdom loves me, as Alasia soon will too. Any man in Malorn would do anything I asked of him. Any woman I smile at falls in love with me. The wealthy and powerful sit at my table; the wise and skillful lay their riches of knowledge and talent at my feet. All the resources of both kingdoms are at my disposal now. It’s all mine!” His eyes are alight and his voice has been growing in intensity, but abruptly he seems to remember where he is, and his gaze focuses on me once again. “And of course I use it all in the service of Prince Korram, soon to be King Korram. The dear boy has been like a son to me since his father died.”
3. What is your idea of success?
“Complete power, of course. Again, to be used in the service of my prince.”
4. What do you hate?
“People who stand in my way.”
5. What do you do in your spare time?
“Enjoy the benefits of my position.” He smiles, fingering the intricate designs carved into the gold on the arms of his throne. “Look around you. Life is full of little luxuries for those capable of earning them.” He leans back on the velvet cushions, obviously comfortable and satisfied, then seems to recollect himself again and quickly sits up. “But of course that’s only when my long day’s labor is done, and even then I spend most of my spare time trying to think of more ways to serve my kingdom – both of my kingdoms – and my prince.”
6. What did you have for breakfast?
“Eggs, sausage, warm oatcakes with some delightful sort of syrup, and three kinds of fresh fruit from the palace greenhouse.” Rampus smiles again. “Quite a treat in winter, wouldn’t you agree? A small example of those benefits I was speaking of. Oh, and I had a cup of that sweet spiced tea that they make over here. Supposedly the late royal family was fond of it; I thought partaking of a local beverage for breakfast would be a nice tradition for Alasia’s new ruler to carry on.”
7. Did you ever have a pet? Describe it.
The regent gazes thoughtfully into the distance. “I kept a hawk for nearly fifteen years. Trained it myself and used it for hunting. You don’t know anything about grace and power until you’ve watched a hawk bring down its prey. I always admired its deadly speed, its unfailing accuracy, its efficient use of that hooked beak and razor talons to shred some helpless creature’s flesh.”
8. Do you believe in luck? Why?
“No; I believe in power. People who sit around waiting for good luck never get anywhere, but with enough power – wisely applied, of course – a person can do anything.”
9. What is your favorite scent? Why?
The regent’s expression grows dreamy. “There’s something about walking into a banquet hall where a feast has been prepared in my honor. It doesn’t even matter what’s being served – the mingled aromas are almost intoxicating.” He inhales deeply as though smelling them now. “For some reason other people’s feasts never smell as good. When I received word that the Invasion had been successful, we had quite the celebration back in Malorn. You should have smelled the royal banquet I ordered for the occasion.” But then his smile fades into a frown. “It would have been a perfect celebration, commemorating a practically perfect victory, but then that fool Arden had to go and ruin my evening.”
“Arden, sir?” I venture.
“The palace minstrel. He was supposed to prepare some music in my honor – that is, in honor of what our army had accomplished in Alasia. Instead he decided to be clever and sing some dreadful ditty denouncing me as a butcher and calling for a quick end to my rule and victory to my enemies.” The regent glares down at me as though it was my fault. “He completely ruined my celebration!”
10. What is the strangest thing you have ever seen?
Regent Rampus’s expression darkens still more. “People who think they can defy me and get away with it. Like Arden. But I showed him; I had him thrown into the dungeon, where he can rot until the end of time as an example to anyone else who may be tempted to follow in his footsteps. And he’s lucky to have gotten away that easy.”
11. What is the most frightening thing that has ever happened to you?
The regent glares at me again, still in a bad mood. “Frightening things don’t happen to me. I make frightening things happen to other people. To those who defy me. To those who get in my way. To those who think they can keep me from attaining everything I want. Everything!” He rises to his feet in anger. “Tell that to your readers! Tell them that no one can stop me, no one can stand against me, no one had better dare to ever try to thwart my plans. Or they’ll regret it, and they don’t know what fear is until they have felt my wrath.”
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This is an interview with the character Almanian, a Malornian military captain in my novel In the Enemy’s Service. For an explanation of why I’m interviewing my characters, click here.
“Come in,” Captain Almanian calls when I knock on his office door. I open it and step inside, finding myself in a lamplit room that was looks as though it was once a small sitting room for palace guests, now turned into an office. The captain sits behind a large desk covered with a map and several sheets of parchment.
“Have a seat.” He waves me to a chair before the desk. “Let’s make this quick; I have a lot to do today.”
“I understand,” I assure him. “Thank you for being willing to meet with me.” I pull out my list of questions.
1. Do you like your job? Why or why not?
“I do my job.” His voice is expressionless, and he leaves it at that. I wait, but nothing else is forthcoming, so I go on to the next question.
2. Do you have any friends? Significant others?
“Not here in Alasia. I have friends and a wife back home in Malorn. Our two daughters are both grown and married.”
3. What is your idea of success?
“Victory.”
4. What do you hate?
“Incompetence. Laziness. Insubordination. People who are supposed to have joined my side but refuse to cooperate and follow orders.” From the annoyance in his voice, I can tell Captain Almanian is thinking of someone in particular.
5. What do you do in your spare time?
“When I have a moment to sit down by myself, there are always maps and reports to study. I’ve also been looking through different parts of the palace over the last couple of weeks, trying to familiarize myself with its layout and get a better picture of what Alasians are like as a people. It’s fascinating how much you can learn from what you find in an art gallery, a throne room, a royal suite, not to mention a library.”
6. What did you have for breakfast?
“Steak and eggs and weak Alasian coffee.”
7. Did you ever have a pet? Describe it.
“My wife keeps a couple of cats at home. I don’t care much for them, but as long as they stay out of my way, we get along all right.”
8. Do you believe in luck? Why?
“I believe a good soldier makes his own luck.”
9. What is your favorite scent? Why?
The captain frowns as though the question irritates him. “Scent? I don’t know.” He shrugs. “Fresh coffee, maybe. The Malornian kind, of course. I’ve got to ask around and see where to buy it here. There must be merchants who bring it over.”
10. What is the strangest thing you have ever seen?
He considers this for a moment. “People who refuse to accept change,” he replies finally. “Look at Alasia, for example. The citizens know there’s no going back to the way things were, so you’d think they’d settle down and accept our authority and the many advantages of Malornian rule. And yet we continue to face uprisings and rebellion, which only make things worse when we have to crack down harder. I don’t blame the people for being angry about what happened; for hating
us, even. But how will it help them to keep struggling even when it’s obviously too late to save their kingdom?” He shakes his head. “Pride is a funny thing.”
11. What is the most frightening thing that has ever happened to you?
Captain Almanian shrugs again. “It’s always a little frightening planning a campaign or working out a battle strategy. Lives will be lost one way or another, but how many usually depends on how I decide to do things. The men under my command have all accepted the risks, of course, but there are often civilian casualties too. It’s unfortunate when that occurs, as it had to here in Alasia, but sometimes that’s what it takes to accomplish a mission. And like it or not, we all do what we must.”
He pushes back his chair. “Speaking of which, I have to get back to work. I hope this has been helpful.” Rising to his feet, he gestures to the door, signaling that the interview is at an end.
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