With my third novel, Prince of Malorn, ready to publish by the middle of May, I’m conducting a series of “interviews” with my characters. This one is the sixth. Enjoy!
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I meet with Arden the minstrel in the cozy sitting room of his little cottage near the edge of the city of Sazellia. He holds a stringed instrument that looks like a cross between a harp and a small guitar, idly stroking the strings and playing random little tunes while we talk.
“I’m sorry the furniture is a little dusty,” he apologizes as I take a seat. “I’m not actually here very often. I have a room in the palace, and lately it’s been so much more convenient to just stay there almost all the time, what with everything going on.” I assure him that I don’t mind a little dust, and pull out my list of questions.
Tell me about your family.
“Well, I grew up with my parents and four sisters. They were all quite a bit older than I and weren’t interested in playing with a little boy, so I spent most of my time reading and making up stories of my own. My father served on the king’s palace guard, and I think he had hoped his only son would follow in his footsteps. But I wasn’t the least interested in learning to fight, and I’ve always hated weapons. I still don’t know how to wield a sword – that is, I know just enough to write vivid battle scenes in my songs and stories, but I have no interest in learning the skill myself. Instead, I learned music from my grandfather. He not only played the malute, he made malutes for a living, and as a boy, I loved to spend time in his workshop. I’ve enjoyed music and stories for as long as I can remember, and the malute seemed the perfect way to bring both together.”
Arden smiles fondly at the instrument on his lap. “Grandfather paid me to help out in his workshop after school, and at first I just ran errands and swept the floor. But gradually he began to teach me how to use his tools – I wasn’t interested in them for their own sake, but I wanted a malute of my own so badly I was willing to do anything to get one. We spent months working on it, a little at a time, and he guided me through every step in the process.” Arden smiles again, remembering. “I learned more patience and attention to detail at that time than ever before or since. Everything had to be perfect. If I made the tiniest mistake that couldn’t be corrected, we threw the piece of wood into the fire and started again. But in the end, my malute was perfect, and it’s lasted me all these years.” He gives the strings a loving thrum.
I understand that you knew the late King Kerman back when he was still a prince. How did you meet him?
“I mentioned that my father was a guard. He once saved the king’s life when angry citizens were rioting in protest of a controversial new tax law. Afterward the grateful king told my father to name his reward, and Father asked if his son could be educated in the palace along with the prince. I was thirteen at the time, painfully shy and small for my age. Combine that with my complete lack of skill in mathematics and the sciences, and you can see why school was unpleasant for me in the first place. The thought of switching to a new school was agonizing, let alone a tiny one where the other pupils would all be royalty or the sons and daughters of nobles. But my parents were determined to seize the opportunity and secure the best possible future for me, and I had no choice.”
Arden chuckles. “I can still remember how terrified I was that first day, walking into the palace schoolroom where Prince Kerman and five of his noble-blooded peers sat around a massive oak table. They were all around my age, but every one of them was taller than I, and much more intelligent and good looking, at least in my teenage mind. They had known each other all their lives, and I was the newcomer, the odd one out.”
He pauses, lost in the memory, and his fingers wander over the strings of his malute. The tune he plucks out feels awkward, reluctant, much like the scene he is describing.
“The prince welcomed me courteously,” he goes on, “but at first I knew they were all laughing at me behind my back. I was hopelessly far behind the rest of them in so many areas, I’m surprised the teacher put up with my being there at all. Sometimes he assigned us work to do in twos or threes, and no one ever wanted to be partnered with me because they would usually end up having to explain the concepts to me all over again. It didn’t help that I daydreamed in class – there were just so many more exciting places for my mind to be than in that room. But soon as I found out I was allowed to visit the palace library, and that made it all bearable. I used to go there every afternoon after lessons were over and read books until my father got off of work. I always brought my malute with me, and if no one else was in the room, I would pull it out and play as I read. I never could hear a good story without imagining how it would sound put to music, so I would make up my own little tunes to go with what I was reading. Sometimes I would rewrite a scene in rhyme and turn it into a song.
“One day in class I was assigned to give a speech about the history of Malorn’s Western Wilderness. I dreaded the thought of standing up and speaking in front of my noble-blooded classmates, but at the same time, history was one subject I excelled in. It’s full of so many interesting stories, and the Western Wilderness has seen far more than its share of battles and noble adventure. My classmates had all been making speeches about the different regions of Malorn over the last few days, and most of them had been dreadfully boring. It was a tragedy, considering that most of the events they described were quite exciting, or they could have been if they had been told about properly.
“So, as nervous as I was about taking my turn, I was determined to do the history of the Western Wilderness justice. The class was surprised when I took up my malute, and I’m certain they had never before heard a speech like the one I gave. I had prepared it in a style that was a mixture of a poem, a story, and a chant with musical accompaniment. I’d worked hard for several days on the music, creating a tune that was fast-paced in the exciting parts and slow and sad for the scenes when I described death and desolation. I heard some snickers as I began, but it didn’t take long before the class quieted and I had everyone’s full attention. I knew I was doing it right when I heard them gasp at all the right moments and chuckle once or twice where I put in some humor; and I saw tears in a few people’s eyes in the tragic scenes.
“When I had finished, even the teacher was speechless for a long moment. Then Prince Kerman rose to his feet and began to applaud, and everything changed after that. Nobody laughed behind my back anymore or looked at me as though I didn’t fit in. From that time on, the teacher let me do a good many of my assignments in the form of poetry or songs; I found out years later that the prince took him aside and asked him to. He also requested that I provide part of the musical entertainment at his birthday celebration the next month, and when that went well, my confidence increased immensely. I started getting invited to social events and asked to perform for many of them. The prince loved a good story, and the two of us had a real connection from then on. But more than that, I appreciated his kindness; he was the first person who made me feel that I had actual talent instead of just a hobby that took my attention away from my schoolwork.”
Arden chuckles. “I’m sure that was a much longer answer than you wanted, but it’s hard for me not to turn everything into a story.”
What is your idea of success?
A dreamy smile crosses the minstrel’s face. “A perfect poem, every word just right, married to the perfect melody. One where every note, every pause, infuses the words with a depth of meaning they never could have achieved on their own. And a rapt audience, breathless, in tears, on the edge of their seats, their minds so intertwined with the song they scarcely know any other reality, the malute strings binding them to the world the instrument and I have created.”
Have you ever been in love? How did that work out?
Arden doesn’t answer right away. His eyes are distant and his fingers dance softly over the strings of his malute. “It was a long time ago,” he replies finally. “Prince Kerman had begun to show special interest in one of our classmates, Aleris, and romance was developing between several of the others as well. I suppose something was in the air that spring; I fell head over heels in love with a girl who lived in my parents’ neighborhood. Jiana and I had known each other for years, but suddenly everything was different. I composed dozens of romantic poems for her, mostly on the back of my parchment during mathematics lessons, much to the entertainment of my classmates when the teacher confiscated them and read them aloud. She and I were married the day after I finished school.”
The music he is playing grows dreamier. “We moved into this cottage with the help of money I been earning performing at city and palace events. We were young, and life was perfect. Just perfect. Neither of us had ever imagined it was possible to be so blissfully happy. Looking back, that was by far the most wonderful period of my life, but it didn’t last.”
His fingers move more slowly, and the tune he is playing grows so sad that I find myself blinking back tears. “Jiana died of a fever less than a year after our wedding. I was devastated; I felt as though my world had ended. I spent most of my days in the graveyard, weeping and composing sad songs. Prince Kerman, who was married by that time too, was concerned about me. He and Aleris regularly sent servants with food and drink and implored me to come in out of the cold as winter tightened its grip on the land and on my broken heart. But nothing could pierce the darkness my soul had fallen into.
“Finally, after months of lonely grief, spring spread its warmth across the land. As I huddled in my cloak beside my beloved’s grave, I found the topic of my melodies turning more and more to the new life I saw emerging around me: thirsty flower petals unfolding to sample the dew at dawn, a hard-working robin building its nest in the sunshine, crickets chirping messages to their friends in the falling dusk. And slowly, my heart began to heal. At last one day when Kerman came in person and begged me to move into a room in the palace, I accepted. He convinced me to start playing for special events again, and gradually I found that I could go on with my life. But my heart has never forgotten my first love, my only love.”
What do you do for a living now?
“Words and melodies are still my livelihood as well as the outpouring of my soul. From time to time I perform for events around the city, but I spend most of my time in the palace now. I’ve always written songs for banquets and special events, but shortly after Kerman’s father died and he became king, he and I discovered that my music can have a more practical purpose. I would sometimes join him in unofficial meetings or for informal conversations with people, sitting at the hearth or in a corner of the room and trying to make myself as unobtrusive as possible. While the others talked, I would play little tunes that I made up on the spot, much as I’m doing now. But I would tailor my music to the conversation and try to use it to make people do or think certain things. It’s difficult to explain how it works, and to be honest, I don’t fully understand it myself, but let me give you an example. Once a serving girl approached the king and queen to reveal a traitorous conversation that she had overheard between two members of the palace staff. The poor girl was trying to do the right thing, but she was so timid before their majesties that she could hardly speak a word at first. I remembered what that was like, and I played a soothing melody that I knew would have calmed my own quaking heart had I been in her shoes. Sure enough, her confidence grew, and in a few moments she was able to stop trembling and speak clearly about what she had learned.
“Another time, Kerman told me that he feared a certain messenger had lied to him, but he had no way to prove it. We sent for the man, and the king questioned him again while I played. This time I made the tune a tense one, such as I would have used to make the audience nervous at the point in a ballad where a character was about to land himself in trouble or fall into a trap. Sure enough, the messenger began to stammer and shoot glances around him as though afraid of some danger. As the king’s questions grew more pointed, I poured more emotion into the music, until my own heart was pounding and the very air in the room seemed to throb with tension.”
As Arden speaks, his fingers move more quickly over the strings, and I can feel the tension he is describing growing around us. My own breath starts to come more quickly and a sense of anxiety builds in me as he goes on.
“Well, the man started to stumble over his words and contradict himself, and then finally he broke off, dropped to his knees, and blurted out the truth. As he confessed his lies and begged, in tears, for the king’s mercy and forgiveness, I realized for the first time that music could be a far more powerful tool than any sword.” The tense tune fades into a slow and peaceful melody, and my pulse returns to normal as the anxiety fades.
If you could go back in time and change anything, would you? If so, what?
Arden nods soberly, and his music turns more serious. “In hindsight, I believe the royal family and I were naïve. I was never privy to many government matters, except for the kinds of conversations I mentioned when I was asked to play in the background, but I knew that some in the government opposed King Kerman’s decisions. An influential High Councilor named Rampus had begun growing in popularity and causing increasing frustration to the king. When Kerman took ill one day, we all thought he had simply eaten something that disagreed with him. The entire city was shocked when he passed away that same night. Queen Aleris was certain he had been poisoned and that Rampus had something to do with it, but nothing was ever proven. Kerman and Aleris had two children by then: Kalendria was eight and Korram was thirteen. Since the prince was still too young to rule, the High Council voted to make Rampus regent of Malorn until Korram came of age. I can’t see how anyone could have changed what happened, but if I could go back in time, I would do all I could to find a way.”
How have your job and your relationship with the royal family changed since King Kerman’s death?
“The widowed queen continued to provide me with a salary, and I continued to provide the palace and the royal family with music,” Arden explains. “I became almost like family to her and her children after Kerman’s death. While Queen Aleris struggled with her own grief and concern for the kingdom, young Kalendria took to sobbing for hours on end while Korram would fly into furious rages. I tried to set my own grief aside as much as I could to help them through theirs, and my music was able to bring some peace to their troubled hearts. But as the years have passed, the family has grown more worried. Rampus’s power has been growing, and we fear he has no intention of giving it up in a few months when Korram turns eighteen.”
The malute sounds worried too, anxious notes spilling out around us. “The trouble is,” Arden continues, “Rampus has his fingers in the military, as well as in every major business and industry in Malorn; and most of the nobility see him as a worthy and capable leader. Our options have grown more limited as the regent has grown more powerful, so we hide our suspicions and pretend to think we are all on the same side, hoping he will see no need to remove anyone else from his way. In our long, anxious meetings, my malute and I have counseled the royal family as much as we could.”
“I hear you have become a trusted advisor,” I say.
“Perhaps, but I often feel inadequate when it comes to knowing the best course of action,” Arden confesses. “When in doubt, however, I simply imagine what I would have my characters do if this were a story. Sometimes that ends up being impractically daring, but often it turns out to be the right move. That’s how I came up with the idea of Korram’s recruiting his own personal army to protect him from Rampus’s schemes; hence the prince’s current mission in the Impassable Mountains. Korram has always loved adventure stories, and he jumped at the idea.” Arden sighs. “Still, I worry that it will turn out to be one of those unrealistic quests that sound wonderful in a ballad but cannot succeed in real life. I suppose only time will tell.”
With my third novel, Prince of Malorn, hopefully ready to publish by the beginning of May, I’m conducting a series of “interviews” with my characters. This one is the fifth. Enjoy!
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I meet with Queen Aleris in one of the richly furnished parlors on the second floor of the Malornian royal palace. Servants have brought in wine and a tray of tiny, delicately frosted cakes, and we recline on velvet-cushioned sofas as we talk. The queen, resplendent in a scarlet gown, gestures for me to ask the first question.
What object would you save if your home was on fire?
“Korram’s crown – that is, the crown that will be his in a few months. It belonged to my late husband, King Kerman, and to Malornian kings before that for generations beyond count. Regent Rampus is determined to get his hands on it, but I’m just as determined that he will not steal what rightfully belongs to my son.” She smiles. “Ironically,
Korram hates gold and jewels. He will be one of those kings who wears the crown only on formal occasions, and even then, perhaps only when I remind him. Still, it will be enough to know that it’s his.”
Have you ever been in love? How did that work out?
She smiles again, sadly this time. “Kerman was the first and only person I ever gave my heart to, though it happened gradually. Ours was partly an arranged marriage; we knew each other, but we weren’t close. My parents were courtiers, and so I was no stranger to the inside of the palace. Prince Kerman and I had danced together at balls a few times, and I saw him regularly at royal functions. Once he had even asked me to go out riding with him, and we both enjoyed that. But I must admit I was quite surprised and flattered when my parents took me aside one day and told me that his royal highness had spoken to them requesting my hand in marriage. Our first few years together were challenging; he was always busy, and there’s more to building a solid marriage than saying “I do” to a handsome prince. Things only grew more difficult after his father died and he was crowned king. But as the years went by we grew to love each other more and more. Kerman’s death was just over four years ago now, and I still miss him.”
Describe the view from your bedroom window.
“From out on my balcony, I can see nearly the whole back lawn and garden. It’s a lovely view, especially in spring when the grass is bright green and all the flowers are blooming. There are dozens of varieties, and I enjoy them all, but my favorites are the purple irises by the pond. We have a large, winding pond full of brightly colored fish and water lilies, with willows bending over it from the bank and a little arched bridge over the narrowest part. There are fruit trees and winding paths all through the garden, with marble sculptures and carved stone benches scattered here and there. Arden likes to sit out under the apricot tree and practice new songs on his malute. When the breeze is right, I can hear it from my balcony, and sometimes I sit out there in the evenings to listen. Beyond the garden, the stone wall is covered with climbing morning glories in six different colors; those are Kalendria’s favorites. And beyond that, the city of Sazellia stretches for as far as I can see from the third floor.”
What makes you happy now?
“My children,” the queen replies simply. “Korram and Kalendria are my greatest joys in life. I only wish Kerman could have been here to watch them grow up; he would have been so proud. To be honest, though, he had little enough time for them when he was alive. Ruling a kingdom well takes more time and energy than any one person can really give as it is, and the job doesn’t leave much time for family. That’s the way it was with his father as well. I know Kerman meant to spend more time with Korram when our son grew older, to start preparing him for the responsibilities of leadership, but that time never came.” She sighs. “One never knows how much time one has left until it’s gone. But Arden has been a mentor and role model to my son in recent years, and I’m thankful for that.”
What is your greatest fear?
She turns to gaze out the window in silence for a moment. “That Korram will not live long enough to rule Malorn,” she replies finally, her voice low. “His eighteenth birthday, the day of his coronation, is just a few months away. If the regent means to try anything – and we are certain he does – it will doubtless be before then. That’s why Korram has taken on this mission in the Impassables. We feel it’s his only hope of survival against Rampus’s schemes. Of course, Rampus hopes he will never return, and I fear that as well. The mountains are a dangerous place. But at the moment I believe the capital would be more dangerous for Korram.”
How did you feel when Korram left for the Impassable Mountains?
She laughs. “Terrified, of course. And proud – so proud. My only son, still a boy, voluntarily stepping out into danger and the unknown to attempt a difficult mission for the good of the kingdom. And to ensure his own survival, of course. Kalendria and I were afraid we would never see him again.” The laughter goes out of her eyes. “We still are, to be honest. But we heard from him last month. A messenger arrived from a small town in the foothills and said Korram had been seen there recently. Apparently he said to tell Kalendria and me that he’s all right and will see us soon. When ‘soon’ is, though, who knows? And there was no word as to how his mission was progressing. I suspect he was being purposefully vague, knowing that Rampus was likely to hear of anything he said.”
What would you say Korram’s best and worst traits are?
“My son is stubborn. That can be good and bad, but it has led to perseverance and great determination. He never gives up when there’s something he really wants, and that helps me believe he will succeed in this mission. No matter the obstacles, he always seems to find a way. And he’s headstrong, which goes with the stubbornness. He doesn’t always heed advice or the wisdom of others when he’s set his mind to something. He’s bold – that can be a fault as well; I’ve had to caution him to be careful in what he says to Rampus. It doesn’t do to let one’s enemy know you suspect him before you are in a position to do anything about it, after all. But that boldness is what gives Korram the courage to do things like set out into the wilderness to confidently attempt what most people would say is impossible. And Korram is open-minded, refusing to accept that things have to be the way they have always been. For example, most of our people see the Mountain Folk as danger and inconvenience; he sees them as potential. But he is impulsive and doesn’t always think before he speaks or acts. And he doesn’t like crowds or attention or etiquette or formal events – all inescapable parts of life for royalty. His patience in dealing with them is sometimes less than exemplary.”
What would you say Kalendria’s best and worst traits are?
“My daughter is compassionate and understanding, quick to sympathize with others and stand up for them. She’s creative and imaginative, and she loves animals and has a way with them. She has a good eye for color and fashion, but I fear she takes it too far sometimes. Yes, a princess should be fashionable, but if Kalendria put half the focus into her studies that she does into her wardrobe and hair, she would be the best educated young lady in Sazellia. Still, she applies herself well when she chooses to, and she knows far more about the workings of the government than I did when I was eleven. And she’s determined too, persevering to reach her goals even when things are hard.”
Finish this sentence: I have never told anyone this before but….
If I’m not mistaken, I see a blush rise to the queen’s cheeks. “Don’t tell him I said this, but I could fall in love with
Arden if I let myself. I won’t, of course. It would never do. The widowed queen, falling for the court minstrel? Still, he has been my family’s most loyal friend, not to mention an invaluable adviser to both Kerman and Korram. And he will make some woman very happy if he can ever tear himself away from his music long enough to give his heart away.”
What’s been your favorite travel destination?
“I’ve always enjoyed visiting Alasia. I fear that sounds a little disloyal, coming from a Malornian queen, but I like to see new places. Apart from the Impassable Mountains, Alasia is the one destination we really can’t get to easily from here, not to mention all the possible political problems that could arise from attempting to make more frequent visits. And so I’ve only been twice: once to attend their previous king’s funeral – that was the year after Kerman and I were married – and once for the current king and queen’s wedding. Their royal family came here for our wedding, too, and for Kerman’s funeral. If that rickety little ferry across the Grenn River were safer and more practical, perhaps we could visit each other’s kingdoms more often and conduct trade on a larger scale. As it is, I fear Alasia and Malorn are likely to remain distantly cordial neighbors for the foreseeable future.”
With my third novel, Prince of Malorn, ready to publish by the middle of May, I’m conducting a series of “interviews” with my characters. This one is the fourth. Enjoy!
I meet Trayven in the room of the inn where he has been staying in the Malornian town of Daveen. He offers me a seat in the chair at the rickety wooden desk, and he sits on the bed under the window. I pull out my list of questions.
Do you prefer cities or the countryside?
“Cities, definitely. I hate wilderness life; always have.”
What is the one sentence you would never say?
He scowls. “I volunteer to attend the prince on his futile trek through the wilderness and report back about his every move.” His voice is mocking. “Of course, it made no difference in the end whether I volunteered or not.”
What makes you angry?
“Being used.” He sighs and picks at the woolen blanket on the neatly made bed. “That’s the dangerous thing about working in the palace. You’re basically giving Regent Rampus access to your life, to use it for whatever he wants. It pays well, though, and if you’re lucky you’ll never have to do anything but your actual job. But you never know when you might be ordered to do something else, and it doesn’t matter how you feel about it. You’d better do it well, or you may not live to regret it.”
Where were you born?
“In a village in the foothills of the Impassables.” He lowers his gaze as though ashamed to admit it. “I lived there till I was fifteen, and then finally I couldn’t take it any more and ran away to the capital.”
What do you do for a living, and why did you choose this career? Do you like your job? Why or why not?
“I’m a servant in the palace in Sazellia, or at least, I was until the incident with the prince. I don’t really know if I still have my job now or not, and I don’t think I want it if I do.” He looks worried. “When I ran away to the city, I first found work in an inn a lot like this one. Cleaning the rooms, serving food in the dining hall, that sort of thing. Did that for six years and was pretty happy with my life. Nothing glamorous, but I was in the city, and that’s what I’d always wanted. Lots to see and do, new people to meet all the time, it didn’t get as cold in the winter, and you never had to worry about Mountain Folk. I should have just stuck with that, but I met a girl who worked as a maid in the palace, and she told me stories about how grand it was. I heard they had some positions open, so I went and applied, and next thing I knew they had hired me. I worked there as a servant for twelve years, and at first I liked it a lot. But then King Kerman died, and things started to change. High Councilor Rampus became Regent Rampus since the prince was too young to rule yet, and he was stricter than the king had been. Bad things happened to people who made mistakes or didn’t do their jobs right. Not just their pay getting docked the way it used to be. The regent would give them strange and dangerous things to do. I don’t know most of the details because nobody ever wanted to talk about it, but you’d see how worried they were, and sometimes they’d be gone on errands for days or even weeks. And it wasn’t just us servants, either. It was the same with high councilors and nobles and everyone. It started gradually, but after a few years with the regent in charge, everyone was afraid to cross him. A few people tried, but then their family members died, or their businesses failed, or now and then they’d just disappear. But as long as you did what you were told, things went well for you, so I didn’t worry. At least, not until recently.” He sighs.
Where do you live? Is it the best place for you?
“Right now?” He gestures around at the tiny room with its bed, desk, chair, and closet. “I’ve been living here for the last few weeks, in between expeditions to the foothills. It isn’t much of a home, but at least I’m alive and have a roof over my head. I hate the camping I have to do on each trip, but it’s nice to know I’ve got some place to come back to. I hope when this is all over I can go home to Sazellia again, but it depends on whether I find what the regent wants and he forgives me. I’m sure I’ll have to look for another job, but at this point, I’ll be content just to keep my life.” He shivers and pulls his cloak tighter around himself.
What is your most embarrassing memory?Trayven’s face turns red before he can even reply. “It was about three months ago. There was a banquet at the palace, and I was serving wine to the guests after the meal. Everyone was listening to
the minstrel as he sang one of those historical ballads he’s always coming up with; it was really exciting, and I couldn’t help listening too as I went around with my tray of wine goblets. I should have been paying better attention to what I was doing, but when that minstrel sings, it’s like there’s a magic spell in the room. If you’ve ever heard him, you’ll know what it was like. But the spell broke pretty fast, let me tell you, when I fumbled with my tray right as I was serving the regent and the whole thing slipped out of my hands .” He shakes his head at the memory. “Eight silver goblets hit the floor with the loudest crash you’ve ever heard, and wine splashed all over him and me and everyone else sitting close by. I wished it was the floor itself that had shattered so I could just dive into a hole and let it swallow me up. I’ve never felt so humiliated in my life – or so terrified. I was sure the regent was going to have my head then and there. You should have seen his expression. But that isn’t his way. He had my job switched so I was emptying chamber pots and scrubbing latrines after that. And then when Prince Korram announced this plan of his, of course I was the one who got picked to go with him. I suppose the regent must have asked around and found out that I grew up in the foothills and knew about wilderness living, so it made sense, but I know it was his way of getting back at me.”
What’s the meanest thing you’ve ever done to someone?Trayven is instantly defensive. “I didn’t do it to be mean. If
Prince Korram hadn’t sent me away, I never would have. But how was I supposed to go back to Regent Rampus without him? Did he think I could just return to the regent and tell the regent I’d failed in the task he assigned me? He would have had me executed for certain! I tried to explain that to the prince, but he wouldn’t listen. He didn’t want me around any longer, probably because he had plans of his own up there in the mountains that were different than he’d told people, and he didn’t want anyone finding out. So all I could think to do was to go hide somewhere, start a new life in another part of Malorn where the regent wouldn’t find me. And for that I needed money.” He glares at me as though I’ve accused him of something. “I had no choice!” He thumps his fist against the pillow. “But how was I supposed to know that Dannel would find out and come after me for it? And now the regent’s going to have me executed anyway, unless I succeed in my new mission.”
What was it like spending those weeks with Prince Korram in the wilderness?“I hated it, mostly. I mean, being with the prince was all right. He’s the quiet sort, which is what I prefer. He doesn’t make pointless conversation for the sake of hearing himself talk, like some people do. And he learns fast. I figured I was going to have to wait on him hand and foot, but he wanted me to teach him everything I knew about wilderness survival, and as soon as he’d learned, he did his share. Hunting, fishing, lighting a campfire, finding the spots that made the best campsites, even loading the mules. It was like he couldn’t wait to get out of the palace and try life in the wilderness, just the opposite of me. He loved sitting by the fire at night roasting meat on a spit, and all I wanted to do was get home to where I could sleep in a real bed and buy a supper I didn’t have to catch and skin myself. Worst of all, he wanted to find some of those
Mountain Folk. The boy had some crazy idea he could get them to help him, but anyone who’s grown up in the foothills knows those savages don’t help anyone but themselves. And then when we actually found some, he insisted on camping close by and spending every day with them, talking to them, trying to get to know them.” Trayven’s voice is filled with disgust. “They’re filthy and ignorant and they smell as bad as the goats they keep. When I was a boy we always had to watch out for them, especially in winter when they come down low to escape the snow on the higher peaks. They would steal crops and eggs from our chickens, and then either run away like the cowards they are or threaten us with their spears if we tried to stop them. I hate those vermin! The whole time we were camped by them, I always felt like they were watching me. As worried as I was when the prince sent me away, in some ways it was a relief to leave.”
What is your political leaning?
“Oh, politics don’t matter much to me. Prince Korram’s a decent person, but he’s young and foolish and probably won’t make much of a king. Regent Rampus is smart and always knows what he’s doing, but he’s dangerous and cruel and I don’t know what kind of king he’d be either.” Trayven glances over at me worriedly. “You won’t tell him I said that, will you?” I assure him I won’t. “So personally, I don’t care, as long as I can stay out of both of their ways. I suppose they probably both want my head now. Fortunately, only one of them is likely to live past the next few months, and then things will be a little simpler.”
What is your greatest fear?
“That I won’t find what I’m looking for. I’m afraid all the time; I hardly sleep at night. But if that Dannel fellow is right, I can redeem myself for what I did – as long as I succeed now. I just hope he is telling the truth and the regent will forgive me. It’s my only chance.”
With my third novel, Prince of Malorn, hopefully ready to publish by the beginning of May, I’m conducting a series of “interviews” with my characters. This one is the third. Enjoy!
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I meet Jeskie, a young freckle-faced boy who looks about eleven, at a quiet table in a tavern. The lunch rush is over but it’s too early for dinner, and we’re the only guests in there at the moment.
He grins at me from his seat. “You said you had some questions for me. How about buying me some coffee and a fruit pastry, and then I’ll answer them.” He waves the tavern keeper over before I can reply.
“Why not?” I place his order and then pull out my list of questions.
How would you describe yourself?
He considers this. “I’m smart. I know a lotta people. Actually, I make sure on purpose that I get to know all different kinds o’ people all over Sazellia in all different trades. I can make them like me, and I learn fast and know how to earn money doin’ all sorts of different things. I’m good at listenin’ to people talk and not even hardly let ’em notice me, and I know ways to use the things I hear. I know where it’s safe to spend the night, and where not to go alone after dark. I can survive on the streets where most people can’t.”
What makes you angry?
“I don’t get angry all that often. But when I do, I s’pose it’s usually because someone’s been treatin’ me as though I don’t know anythin’ or can’t do much. I’m as capable as most grown people. I work here at Bertam’s tavern sometimes, in the kitchen and serving food both, as well as cleanin’ up at the end of the evenin’, and he says he don’t know what he’d do without me on busy days. And it’s the same thing all over. I work for people all over Malorn in ’most every trade, and they can all tell you I learn quick and do a good job.” He grins. “It’s nice havin’ lots of choices. If I don’t feel like serving ale, I can go polish boots or sweep floors or cut wood or muck out stalls.”
Where do you live?
“All over Sazellia. Most o’ the people I work for will let me stay the night when I’m done, and if not, I know places here and there in the city where no one’ll bother me. When it’s cold or rainy, there’s a couple people I can go to who’ll always let me sleep on their couch.”
Bertam, the tavern keeper, appears with his dessert and coffee. Jeskie seizes a fork and digs in with relish as I go on to the next question.
Tell me about your family.
“I don’t have a family,” he says matter-of-factly with his mouth full. “My mother died when I was little, and I don’t remember my father. But I’ve got lotsa friends, and that’s just as good.” He takes a sip of coffee to wash down his bite. “It’s fun being free to go where I want and do what I like, and when I need somethin’ or get in trouble there are people like Bertam here who will help me.”
You helped out in a military training camp for a while. What was that like?“That was fun.” Jeskie takes a sip of his coffee. “Fun but busy. I liked watchin’ the soldiers practice with their spears, even though they never let me join in. Sometimes I would grab an extra spear and try the moves by myself over behind the wagon, though. In the evenin’ I got to sit with them by their campfires and listen to them tell stories, and that was fun. But the part I didn’t like was that I couldn’t just go what I wanted and decide what kinda work I felt like doin’ each day, like I do here. I had to stay around camp except when I was goin’ on errands.
Sarge sent me out with the wagon a lot to get supplies. I got some here in Sazellia at first, but then they decided it would be safer not to come here, just in case, you know? So I went back and forth to lots of little villages and farms all around that part of the foothills. I never spent so much time on the road before, specially by myself. It was kinda fun seein’ all those places, but I like the city better.”
If someone were to offer you any gift you liked, what would you ask for?“That’s another easy one.” He sips from his mug again, grinning. “A spear. A few months ago I woulda said a sword, but now I know spears are better. They’re longer, and you can jab your enemy with ’em before he’s close enough to use his sword on you. The
Mountain Folk are better with their spears than anyone I’ve ever seen, but I know I could get good too if I had one o’ my own to practice with all the time.”
You were seen with Prince Korram at this very tavern recently. Did it surprise you when he showed up here?“It certainly did.” Jeskie laughs. “You don’t expect to see royalty in a place like this, specially after he’d been outta town so long. I was helpin’ out here for the evenin’, and when I came out to see what the guests who had just sat down wanted to order, I realized one of them was the prince. He wasn’t dressed like it, but he was wearin’ a ring with the Malornian royal crest, you see, just like the big one painted on the side of the queen’s carriage. But he looked like he didn’t wanna be recognized, so I thought I shouldn’t say anythin’. It was fun talkin’ to him, though, knowin’ who he was and knowin’ that no one else at the table knew and that he didn’t know I knew. And it was fun meetin’ his two Mountain Folk friends. You could tell they weren’t from around here just by the way they stared at everythin’. And the way they ate!” He laughs again, remembering. “I live mostly on the streets, and even I’ve got better table manners than them. ’Course, now I know that’s ’cause their people usually eat sittin’ round a campfire, and they don’t use dishes up in the Impassables. Still, it was pretty funny watchin’ them that evenin’.”
Finish this sentence: I have never told anyone this before but….
“That’s easy,” he exclaims, downing the last of his coffee in one long draft. “I hope there will be a war with Alasia like people are sayin’ there might be. Wars are so excitin’, and nothin’ much excitin’ ever happens around here. If a war does start, I’m gonna find a way to go join in. I know some soldiers over at the barracks. I’m sure I can get them to let me tag along.” He stuffs another bite of pastry into his mouth.
“Do you know how to fight?” I wonder.
“Well, not exactly. I mean, I can use my fists, but no one’s ever let me train with a sword or anythin’. But I’ve seen soldiers practice with swords and with spears, and like I said, I’ve tried the spear moves myself a bit. It can’t be that hard, and in a battle I’m sure you can find lotsa dropped weapons, so I know I’ll manage. I’ve always wanted to be a hero, and that’s definitely the best way.”
With my third novel in my Annals of Alasia trilogy hopefully ready to publish by the beginning of May, I decided to conduct a series of “interviews” with my characters. This one is the second. Enjoy!
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Lantil has invited me into his home, a wooden cottage in a small village nestled in the foothills of the Impassable Mountains, for this interview. The view through the window shows row upon row of coffee bushes spreading across the slope. His wife serves us coffee in battered tin mugs, and we sit on rough-hewn wooden furniture around the fireplace while I pull out my list of questions.
How would you describe yourself?
He shrugs. “I’m a hard-working man. I know how to take care of coffee, and I like a good strong mug of it to start the day.” He takes a sip of his. “I love my wife and children, and I think our friends would say I’m a good neighbor.”
What are your hobbies?
“I like to hunt. Lots of animals move down here to the foothills when it starts getting really cold up on the higher slopes. We get plenty of deer in these parts, especially; in fact, they’re a worse problem for our garden than the Mountain Folk. Sometimes my neighbor and I will take our bows and sit out at night watching for them. My wife makes a real good venison stew, and we smoke the rest of the meat to eat in the winter.”
Do you prefer cities or the countryside? Warm weather or cold?
He scratches his head. “I’ve never been to a big city like Sazellia before. I think I’d like it, though. I always enjoy the trips to town when we go sell our coffee. Mountain life is good too, but it has its disadvantages.” A troubled expression crosses his face. “Mountain Folk being one of the main ones, of course, but we sometimes get wolves or bears around here too, then there’s the fact that the nearest town where we can buy supplies is nearly a day’s ride away. And I like warm weather a lot better. Winters are pretty severe up in the mountains. Of course this is just the foothills, but we still get snow every now and then, and the wind blowing off the peaks gets colder than anything you can imagine. Besides, when the weather gets cold, the Mountain Folk move to lower elevations.” He shudders. “We do all we can to keep out of their way, but we can’t stop them from coming to us.”
What is the one sentence you would never say?
“I’d never say to those Mountain Folk, ‘Come help yourself to my garden vegetables or fruit without paying for them.’ But they’re always trying to.”
What makes you angry?
“Being robbed.” He scowls. “My family and I put a lot of work into our gardening. Thank goodness the Mountain Folk don’t care for coffee, since that’s our livelihood. But we have a little kitchen plot with vegetables and fruit trees that my wife and daughters care for while I’m tending the coffee bushes. We rely on that to get us through the winter, but those thieving Mountain Folk try to take whatever they can get their hands on.”
What do you hope to accomplish? What keeps you from achieving your goal?
“I hope to continue to provide for my family and save up for my daughters’ futures. I have four beautiful young girls, and the oldest will be getting married next year. My wife and I hope to help her and her husband get a good start on a little farm of their own, and put some money away for the others as well. Our second daughter wants to live in the city someday, which won’t be easy to arrange, but we’re going to try to set up some sort of apprenticeship for her.”
Did you ever have a pet? Describe it.
“We have a couple of cats that keep the mice at bay in the storage sheds. And now we have a flock of goats.” His face grows troubled. “They’re not really ours, and it makes me nervous every time I think of their real owners coming back for them. But they provide so much milk that we’ve been able to share with the whole village, and all our neighbors take turns helping to care for them. It’s been wonderful having milk for the children every day, and cream for the coffee.” He takes another sip from his cup.
“Who are their real owners?” I question.
“Well – they’re
Mountain Folk. After what happened here last autumn, I figured the least I could do was take care of their goats until they came back for them, but they never did. I keep thinking that someday they will, and I’m afraid they’ll be angry with me for keeping them so long. But I’m ready to give them back any day they ask, really.”
Have you ever killed anyone?
He stares at me. “How did you know? We all promised not ever to tell anyone outside the village. I mean, I don’t know if the law really applies when it comes to Mountain Folk, but just in case, we didn’t want the authorities to get word. After all, it was an accident. I never meant to shoot the girl. You don’t know what it’s like having those savages charge at you with their spears brandished; and I have my family to protect, not to mention our home and crops.” His voice is anguished now. “But she was somebody’s daughter, and the sight of her lying there – I mean, I don’t know what I would have done if it had been one of my girls who –” He breaks off and turns away with a shudder, biting his lip. “It was the worst moment of my life. I was just trying to scare them away, but then there she was coming at me, and I panicked.” He sighs. “Such a horrible memory. I wish every day that I could somehow go back in time and change what happened. I should have just let them take my apples. Of course, then they’d only get bolder and come and steal from us all the more. Still, that would be better than having her death on my conscience.”
With my third novel in my Annals of Alasia trilogy ready to publish by the middle of May, I decided to conduct a series of “interviews” with my characters. This one is the first! I stepped into the setting of the book so I could have conversations with about ten of my main characters. Enjoy!
I have arranged to meet Ernth by a certain stream in the foothills of the Impassable Mountains. When I arrive, he is spearfishing from the bank, a pile of three or four fish on the grass behind him. A bay horse grazes nearby. He joins me on a log and I pull out my list of questions.
Do you prefer cities or the countryside? Warm weather or cold?
Ernth adjusts the belt of his deerskin tunic. “The countryside, of course. Who wouldn’t like it here? I hate cities. And I prefer warm weather, because the colder it is, the lower in the foothills my family has to travel, and that means we encounter more
Lowlanders.”
How would you most like to spend a day off?
“I’d like to go off riding with my cousin.” He glances at the horse grazing a few yards away. I love to ride, but there isn’t much time for that most days. We could hunt deer or race our horses across the slopes.”
What object would you save if your home was on fire?
“You mean my tent? Well, if I didn’t have it on already, I’d save my jacket that I made from snowcat skin. Oh, and my necklace with the snowcat teeth.”
What is the one sentence you would never say?
He considers. “I can’t wait to go to the Lowlands!” His voice is scornful.
“When
Lowlanders cheat us or take advantage of us because we don’t understand their ways.” Ernth frowns and pokes at the ground with his spear. “It happens almost every time we interact with them.”
What’s your favorite food?
“I love roast goat! It’s all the more special because we usually only have it to celebrate something important, like when someone in the family gets Accepted.”
What do you think of Lowlander food?
He makes a face. “It’s disgusting. Well, most of it. They have an orange vegetable that isn’t bad, and sometimes they serve something fruity after the meal; I like that. But the only really good thing about meals in the Lowlands is coffee. It’s an ugly-looking black liquid that you have to mix with lots of white stuff – it looks like goat milk but it’s not the same – and then you dump in lots of sweet powder. After that it’s delicious. It’s the only thing about Lowland life that’s better than what we have here in the mountains.”
Did you ever have a pet? Describe it.
“Well, my family keeps goats, of course, for their milk and meat. And there’s my horse.” He smiles in the horse’s direction. “Her name is Hungry, and she’s as close to me as a family member. I struggled through the Rite of Acceptance and nearly died to get her, but it was worth it.” As though she understands, the horse ambles closer and nuzzles him, and Ernth reaches up to stroke her neck. It’s obvious the two of them share a special bond.
What did you have for breakfast?
“Lumjum cakes with berries, and of course goat milk.”
What is the strangest thing you’ve ever seen?
Have you ever been in love? How did that work out?
Ernth scowls, and when he finally answers, his voice is low. “It was almost two years ago. Her name was Jenth. She was murdered by Lowlanders. Why do you think I hate them so much?” He looks away, but when he finally meets my gaze again, he sighs. “Actually, we found out not long ago that it was an accident, a misunderstanding. The man who did it said he was sorry and gave us gifts of food, and my whole family has agreed to go back to his village to trade whenever we’re in the area. I suppose that’s a good thing.” He fiddles with the shaft of his spear. “But how am I supposed to change the way I’ve felt about them for so long?”
How many siblings do you have? Are they older or younger?
“I have one older sister, Charr. She’s married and has two young children. Her husband Thont is a good friend of mine.”
What were some things you liked to do when you were a child?
Ernth smiles. “My cousins and friends and I used to pretend we were on the Rite of Acceptance. We would make up situations for each other, like, ‘You haven’t eaten in two days, you just found a patch of berries, and there’s a hungry bear between you and them. What do you do?’ Then we’d act out the situation and try to impress each other with how we’d solve the problem. Sometimes it turned into a contest to see who could come up with the funniest solution.”
Of what are you proudest?
“That’s easy. Of succeeding in the Rite of Acceptance and earning my horse.”
Have you ever killed anyone?
“No. But supposedly we might have to when we all go to the Lowlands in this army of Korram’s.”
Do you have any scars you would be willing to show me?
Ernth pulls up the sleeve of his tunic to reveal a faint mark running straight across the side of his right shoulder. “I got this the day Jenth was killed. One of the Lowlander’s arrows grazed me as we were trying to get away.” He pulls up his other sleeve, and he grins as he shows me his next scar. “And this is my horse mark.” Sure enough, the mark – which appears to be a burn – is shaped roughly like a horse. “It’s the proof that I’ve been Accepted. The best pain I ever felt!”
What do you hope to accomplish? What keeps you from achieving your goal?
![The Busy Writer's One-Hour Plot](https://testdev636428150.files.wordpress.com/2021/01/39324-one-hour-plot.jpg)
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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.
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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)