Take my iPod, for example. Most of the time it's a wonderful little gadget that makes listening to music very easy and enjoyable. Except for today. While trying to update a few existing playlists and adding several new ones, it somehow managed to erase EVERYTHING and now I'm left with a very expensive paperweight. Not to mention the fact since I'm running Windows, the battery life is drained in a matter of seconds so that actually putting anything on it is like a timed trial. I'm still trying to figure out how it erased everything. Or, more over, why. I had it set to update manually, so it shouldn't have tried to update on its own.
Grrr.
Sometimes I wonder why I even bother with this stuff. It seems like most gadgets that are supposed to make life easier never live up to the hype. All I get are more headaches and less time to do the things I would actually like to do. Like listen to music.
Oh well. I just had to vent for a second.
I'm going to try something a little different with this blog today. I'm posting the first chapter to a novel that's currently in limbo, and I'm going to leave the comments open so that anyone and everyone can give their opinions. These can be as short or as long as anyone wants them to be. By that I mean you can say "this rocked," or "I've never read anything worse." It also means that if anyone wants to take the time to rip it to itty-bitty shreds, they should feel free to do so.
This is a pretty long chapter, just so you know. The title of the novel, right now, is The Princess of Stone. I can't decide if it's worth finishing or not, and this experiment is to see if anyone even cares enough about what's happening for me to continue. Right now, this is only a first draft. I cleaned things up a bit for presentation purposes, but I've not begun to actually edit it.
Anyway, now that all the disclaimers are out of the way, I hope you enjoy this first chapter. Thanks!!!
The Princess of Stone - Chapter One
Alandria’s arm tingled. After four straight hours of sparring with Steven she could barely close her hand around the grip of her sword. Her breath was labored and her skin stuck to the insides of her armor.
“You’re getting better,” he said. “You only died twice today.”
“Only twice? Tomorrow I’ll have to make sure I’m extra careless. I wouldn’t want you to start thinking I can handle myself or anything.”
“Sarcasm is not befitting a lady of your stature.”
“Maybe you have me confused with my sister. When you spend all your time at court sarcasm can get you in trouble. Down here with the soldiers, it gives you an edge.”
“Regardless,” Steven said. “I would hate for the King to believe I’m teaching his daughter bad habits.”
“Don’t worry about my father. He knows how witty I am.” She smiled.
“Want to go another round?”
Steven let out a low sigh. “While you could definitely use the practice, I don’t think it’s a good idea. You were supposed to start getting ready for the feast an hour ago. You wouldn’t want to risk offending your father’s guests by arriving late, would you?”
“Heaven forbid I offend the Kind and Queen of Arris. They might decide not to let Prince Frederick marry my charming sister. Wouldn’t that be awful?”
“Your father has spent a lot of time building an alliance with the Kingdom of Arris. You would be wise not to upset his hard work.”
Alandria sighed.
“Of course you’re right. You’re always right. Besides, I know Cydonia is really excited about meeting her fiancée. I suppose I should make an effort to be presentable for her, at least.”
“That’s the spirit. Now get going before Madeline sends someone looking for you.”
A devilish grin spread across Alandria’s face. “She’s probably about to explode! I bet she’s finally worn a hole in the carpet from pacing!”
“One thing I’ve found in the years of serving your father, Alandria, is that it’s never a good idea to make bets when it comes to a woman, particularly that woman. Now, I think you need to get going. I would hate for Madeline to tell your father you were late because of me. Who knows what he’d do?”
“He’d never do anything to you. You have to know that. As many battles as you’ve won for Thera…”
“I’m not worried about myself. I was thinking he might decide that his youngest daughter would be better off learning to speak with dignitaries than to lead armies.”
Alandria stopped and looked at Steven to see if he was joking. It was impossible to tell if he really believed that or not. Rather than take any chances, though, she decided it was time to get back to her chambers.
“Fine,” she said. “But if I have to start learning the finer points of talking to stuffy windbags, you’ll feel the edge of my blade.”
“Of course my Princess, though you would do well to wait till I’m in a drunken slumber before trying. You aren’t skilled enough to beat me in a straight fight yet.”
Alandria shot him a dark look before slipping her practice sword into a slot on the rack. Her arm still tingled as she pulled the last few pieces of her armor off and piled them on the floor.
“Will I see you there tonight?”
“My Lady, I wouldn’t miss your sister’s engagement feast for all the coffers in you father’s treasury.”
“What about all the wine in his cellar?”
“That, my dear, is a completely different story.”
His grin was so broad she couldn’t help returning it. Steven was as much a father to Alandria as the King, and she hated to admit she was almost fonder of the scruffy man-at-arms. While her father had always treated her like the princess she was, Steven was not afraid to give her a bruise when she made a mistake. Most people in his position would let the King’s daughter believe she was invincible, even if she didn’t know what end of the sword to hold. Plus, there was no one else that would dare return her japes. Most people just bowed their head and said “As your highness pleases” whenever she gave them lip. Luckily, though, Steven would be at the feast tonight, and she would have someone to talk to. Cydonia was usually her relief at events such as these, but her sister would be too busy getting to know her future husband to be any fun tonight.
With a sigh, Alandria turned and made her way out of the practice room. The lower halls were unusually vacant, and it wasn’t until she reached the ground level that she saw anyone else. But as empty as the lower levels were, the rest of the castle was abuzz with the excitement of their guests. Everyone was busy with the preparations. Her father planned on feeding everyone in the city, and a feast of that magnitude required a lot of time and effort. The feast was not just a celebration of her sister’s engagement, either. Arris had long been one of her father’s greatest adversaries, and the alliance between the two nations would put an end to a century of war and uncertainty. If there was one thing that could unite two competing nations, Alandria remembered her sister saying once, it was a marriage.
When she arrived at her chambers, Alandria found Madeline waiting for her with crossed arms. The toes of her left foot were tapping the floor, and there were veins bulging out the side of her neck.
“Where in Thera have you been?” Madeline shouted. “You’re supposed to be in the dining hall in less than an hour! It will take me that long to brush out that rat’s nest you call hair! Quick, get out of those nasty clothes and into the tub. I’ll have to scrub you myself to make sure you don’t take a lifetime to get clean. And what is that? Your arms are so bruised it looks like you’ve been in a brawl! I guess you’ll have to wear a long-sleeved gown to hide those hideous marks!”
Alandria wadded her sweat-soaked clothes up and tossed them on the floor. She was used to Madeline’s harping and paid little attention as the handmaiden ushered her into the tub and poured hot water over her head. Madeline was only thirteen years her senior, but she talked and acted like she gave birth to Alandria herself. When the woman was satisfied that all the dirt had been scrubbed away, she pulled Alandria out of the tub, wrapped her in a towel, and took a brush to her head. When there were no more knots—Alandria had to check the mirror to make sure she had any hair left at all—Madeline pointed her to the stack of clothes on her bed and said “Get dressed.”
Wanting the experience over as soon as possible, Alandria did as she said. Fifteen minutes later she was dressed in an elegant, long-sleeved gown that sparkled like emeralds. The sleeves were a soft, black material that even Alandria found lovely. She left the world of fashion to Cydonia, but there were some clothes that were too comfortable and beautiful to not enjoy wearing.
“We won’t have time to do anything special to your hair. I suppose I should count my blessings that it’s at least clean.”
Madeline brushed and pulled at Alandria’s hair till it was pinned up in a way that her wavy, auburn locks cascaded around her face. When she was done, she let out a satisfied-sounding grunt and pulled Alandria before the mirror.
“Not bad for having to cram two hours of work into forty-five minutes, huh?”
Alandria turned around, trying to see herself from all angles. “No,” she said. “Not bad at all.”
“I wish you would let me dress you up more often. You’re striking when you want to be. In fact, I think the Prince might have a hard time telling you apart from your sister tonight.”
“That shouldn’t be too hard, considering he’s never seen either of us. Not to mention the fact we’re twins.”
Madeline frowned. “That’s not what I meant, my lady. I was trying to give you a compliment.”
Alandria turned away from her reflection and smiled. “I know, Maddy. I’m sorry. Sometimes I can’t stop my mouth from running. Thank you for your help. Now, you best get changed yourself if you want to make it to the feast on time.”
A sudden change flitted across the handmaiden’s face. “Oh my, you’re right. I had completely forgotten about having to get myself changed. I better hurry, hadn’t I?” She gathered Alandria’s soiled clothes and moved toward the door. “Now, take care not to spill anything on your gown tonight. You don’t want to give the King and Queen the impression that we Therans are uncivilized.”
“If a hundred years of war hasn’t already given them that notion, I doubt a few drops of soup will make much difference.” Madeline turned to say something, but Alandria stopped her. “I was only kidding. You don’t have time to lecture me again right now. I promise I’ll try not to spill anything. Now go. I’ll see you in the dining hall.”
Madeline looked like she had something she wanted to say, and Alandria was thankful when the woman just turned and walked out the door. When the sound of her footsteps died away, Alandria turned to look at herself in the mirror again.
I really don’t look that bad, she thought. At least this gown isn’t too girly. Some of the dresses Maddy’s made me wear in the past were just awful. As she was turning to admire the dress from yet another angle, a knock at the door distracted her. Who could that be?
Waiting on the other side of the door was a guard dressed in shimmering gold armor. He wore a ceremonial sword at his side and a helmet with a large, purple plume. He bowed as the door opened, holding the end of his purple cape out to his right side.
“When milady is ready,” he said, “it will be my pleasure and duty to escort her to the dining hall.”
Alandria frowned. She knew it was customary for royalty to be escorted to any type of formal occasion, but she always felt like it was someone’s way of saying she couldn’t take care of herself. No matter what Steven said, Alandria knew she could take almost every man in the castle in a straight fight. She might come out with a few cuts and bruises, but the title of victor would still belong to her. Regardless, though, she still had to accept this man’s offer to escort her to the feast. If she arrived alone there would be quite a fuss, and this guard might even lose his life for failing to perform his duty.
“You honor me with your presence,” she said, using the words her etiquette instructor taught her almost before she could walk.
After checking herself one last time in the mirror, she closed the door to her chambers and set a brisk pace down the hall. The nameless guard walked two paces behind her, his footsteps mirroring her own. Through the halls and down the stairs they went, passing servants, guests, and other guards on their way. Without fail, the murmuring crowds would always fall silent at their approach, waiting till she was safely out of earshot to begin their whispers anew. Whether it was out of respect or fear Alandria didn’t know, nor did she care. Madeline was the castle’s foremost authority on gossip. If the crowds had anything worth hearing to say, Alandria would find out soon enough.
The door to the dining hall was open when they arrived. Two guards dressed in the same fashion as her escort stood on either side of the opening, both holding the banner of Thera. On a field of silver, a great, black elk stood before a mountain range. Alandria had always wondered how the elk had come to symbolize their nation, but the reason had fallen out of knowledge many thousands of years before.
In her near eighteen years of life, her father had held hundreds of feasts, and she had been to every one. She knew well what to expect when she walked through the passageway. But in all her years, there had never been a feast that could match the extravagance that was waiting for her. The walls were adorned on the right side with the banner of Thera, while the left was covered by that of Arris. A green and brown oak tree stood against a field of black, and it was odd for her to see the symbol of what had long been their greatest enemy in her father’s hall. Gold candelabras decorated each table, sitting atop the green and silver tablecloths. The finest silver and china had been delivered days before, and the stage at the end of the hall was already filling with musicians and performers of all types. It seemed that no expense had been spared.
The feast was set to begin with a quarter of an hour, and most of the guests had already arrived and taken their assigned places. The hall was alive with chatter. The clinking of glasses and loud laughter drifted over the crowd, though there was a noticeable decline in volume as Alandria made her way to the Royal Table. Shouts changed to whispers as she walked past the gathered courtiers, all of them staring at her in open-mouthed astonishment.
The table at the front of the hall was breathtaking in its décor. A total of ten places were set with the finest gold-plated dinner ware that Alandria had ever seen, and that was saying something. Each of the wine goblets were encrusted with sparkling jewels of every hue, though the two centermost cups were a good deal more elaborate—and larger—than the other eight. The plates, knives, forks, and spoons alone would fetch a high enough price to feed an entire family for more than a year.
The two center places, she knew, would be reserved for the newly engaged couple. Her father would sit next to Cydonia, and Alandria would take the place next to him. On the other side of the Prince there would be places for the King and Queen of Arris. She had no clue whom her father had deemed worthy to fill the remaining places.
She nodded to her escort as she took her seat. He bowed and left, his duty fulfilled. No sooner had she become settled than a servant arrived to fill her goblet. She smiled and sipped at the wine, trying to pretend that everyone in the room wasn’t looking at her.
This is why I hate getting to these things early, she thought. If only I had someone to talk to, I might be able to forget I was being stared at.
As if in answer to her thought, the seat to her left was pulled back, startling her. Steven plopped down, looking almost regal in court clothes. He smiled and leaned over to her.
“Thought you might need a little company till your father shows up.”
She smiled. “It wouldn’t be so bad if everyone didn’t stare at me so.”
“I know. Everyone here is trying to decide if their son, or themselves, has any chance of wedding you.”
Alandria shuddered. “Don’t even joke about that. Cydonia’s the marrying type, not me.”
“We’ll see,” he said, draining his cup. The servant had it filled before he had it back on the table.
Alandria was about to tell him that she would never marry anyone in that room if she could help it, but she was interrupted by a blast from the Royal Herald’s trumpet. Everyone stood to face the center aisle as the King entered the room. He moved down the carpet with slow, practiced steps. The crown of Thera, a simple circlet of gold with a single ruby in the center, rested atop his head, and he wore a marvelous suit of a rich silver and red colors. When he reached the dais at the front of the hall, he smiled and winked at Alandria before turning to face his guests with arms outstretched.
“Welcome to my home,” he boomed. “Tonight we gather to celebrate the joining not only of two lives, but of two nations. It is my great honor to present to you King Edward the third and Queen Ellen of Arris!”
Applause filled the room as a man and woman, both clad in black and green, entered the room arm in arm. They moved across the carpet only slightly faster than Alandria’s father had, though their steps were no less rehearsed. This was Alandria’s first glimpse of their esteemed guests, and she was surprised at how they contrasted each other. The Queen was one of the most beautiful women she’d ever seen, while the King was toad-like and ugly. She said a silent prayer for her sister that Prince Frederick took after his mother. When the King and Queen reached the table and took their seats, the applause died away.
“Now,” the King said. “For the moment we’ve all been waiting for. May I present to you Prince Frederick of Arris and his future bride, my daughter, Princess Cydonia.”
The earlier applause had only been a warm-up, it seemed. When Cydonia and her fiancée entered the room, there was such a roar of shouts and clapping that Alandria had to cover her ears. It wasn’t until the two took their places at the table that she was able to take her hands away and give them the attention they deserved.
Cydonia was dressed in one of the most extravagant gowns Alandria had ever seen. It was made from cloth-of-silver and had been fitted to her frame perfectly. However beautiful Alandria had felt before, she knew she could not begin to compete with her sister tonight. Not that she wanted to.
Frederick, like his parents, was dressed in an elegant suit of black and green. He was not a very tall man, but neither was he short. He had a full head of dark hair, and his face was strong and handsome. While he wasn’t the most attractive man she’d ever seen, he was far better looking than his father. Alandria gave a sigh of relief.
Her father took his place beside her, pinching her elbow and winking at her as he did so. Before sitting, though, he made one last announcement to the guests.
“Let the feast begin!”
The doors lining the side walls of the hall opened, and a stream of servants entered the room carrying silver platters filled with meats and vegetables of all sorts. They reached the Royal Table first, as always, offering them the pick of the foods. Alandria chose a healthy portion of pork tenderloin, some mashed potatoes with a brown gravy, sautéed squash, and a large heel of bread. She was so famished from training she forgot her manners and began to stuff her face. It took Steven elbowing her to make her realize what she was doing. There was a certain level of ceremony that had to be followed at these engagements, and it was customary for the guests of honor to eat first.
Alandria wiped her mouth with her napkin and muttered a meek “I’m sorry.”
Her father smiled and patted her arm. “It’s all right. Just give Cydonia another moment,” he whispered.
Cydonia took Prince Frederick’s hand in hers, and together they stabbed a large piece of meat with a fork. Both leaned in together and bit off a large chunk. Alandria smiled. She had always found the practice funny, and seeing her sister—which in many ways was like seeing a reflection of her self—partake in it was almost more than she could take.
Another roaring round of applause shook the room for a moment. When it died away, all of the guests returned to their seats and the feast began. Alandria tore back into her food, eating as though she feared her plate would disappear before she was finished.
“Slow down, girl,” Steven said beside her. “You don’t want to give the King and Queen the impression we’re barbarians.”
“You’re starting to sound more and more like Madeline everyday,” she said through a mouthful of pork. “I wouldn’t be surprised to find you wearing dresses in the next few days.”
Steven frowned and took a long draw from his goblet. “How was old Maddy when you showed up?”
“Panicked as always. She was so flustered she forgot she was coming to the feast, too.”
“Sounds like her. Always more concerned with what other people are doing than with her own business.”
“Yes,” the King interrupted. “But that’s precisely why I chose her to be Alandria’s handmaiden. Only someone willing to put their own concerns aside for a while is capable of keeping up with Ms. Mischief here.”
Alandria rolled her eyes and took a sip from her glass. “I can’t help it if no one can keep up with me. It’s not my fault I’m so spirited.”
The king laughed and winked at Steven. “No, we’ll have to blame your mother for that.”
Alandria tried to smile, but thinking of her mother made her sad. It had been almost five years since the illness took her from them, but the pain was still as strong as when it first happened. She knew her father meant well by the statement, but it still cast a dark cloud over her evening.
To her right, Alandria could hear Cydonia chattering away with Frederick and his parents. Her father, too, was involved in their discussion, though she couldn’t make out what was being said over the din of the guests. From the tone of their voices and the constant laughter, she could tell they were all having a great time. Steven was already working on his seventh glass of wine, and his slurred speech was evidence that it would not take many more before he was full-blown drunk. She sighed wishing something would happen to help cure her boredom.
As if in answer to her wish, a sudden blast of smoke erupted in the center of the room, causing many of the guests to scream and even fall out of their chairs. Alandria smiled, though, guessing the cause of the eruption. In all of the hustle and bustle of the evening, she had forgotten to wonder where Elrinm, her father’s magician, was.
The smoke cleared, revealing a man clad in the strangest robes. They were black, though as the man wearing them walked forward, they shifted from the darkest shades of red, blue, green, and purple possible. In his right hand he held a tall, gnarled staff of wood, while his left held something Alandria could not make out. His long, white hair was tied back to keep it from falling into his eyes, and his beard hung past the center of his chest. He wore a smile as he approached the Royal Table, his teeth sparkling in the bright light of the chandeliers.
“Greetings, Master Wizard,” Alandria’s father said. “You honor us with your presence.”
Elrinm bowed his head. “Nay, my liege, it is you that has honored me. An invitation to sit at the King’s table on such a momentous occasion is not something to take lightly. I apologize for my tardiness. A wizard’s work does not always coincide with the schedules of men.”
With a smile, the old man bowed to each of the Royal Table’s occupants. When he came to the King and Queen of Arris, he reached in his robe and pulled out a glittering orb. This he offered to the Queen, saying something too low for Alandria to hear. The queen’s eyes sparkled as she took the orb and handed it to her husband.
“Thank you, Master Wizard.” The King of Arris’s voice was rich and noble. “Your blessings are a kindness we had not sought.”
“Now that Arris is to be the home of Princess Cydonia,” Elrinm said, “I would not feel right unless I had done all I could to keep your borders safe.” He bowed low and swished away to take the empty seat next to Steven.
The general was quite drunk and close to passing out. He was having a difficult time keeping himself upright, and it was only a few minutes after the wizard sat down that Steven declared it was time for him to retire.
“But it’s still early, my good man,” Elrinm said. “Stay and have one drink with me.”
“I thank you for the offer,” Steven slurred. “But if I don’t make it to my bed shoon, I doubt I’ll make it at all.”
He stood, using the table to keep his balance, and staggered off to one of the side doors. Alandria watched him go and wondered what their training would be like the next morning. There had been many mornings where the old general had been nursing a hangover, but somehow she thought tomorrow might be especially bad.
“Don’t worry about him,” Elrinm whispered in her ear. “He’s gone to battle after nights spent far drunker than he is now. And he always managed to win, too.”
The wizard laughed to himself as he buttered a large hunk of bread. With a wave of his hand, a large haunch of meat floated across the table and settled onto his plate. He took his knife and fork, said a silent word, and attacked the food. Alandria tried to ignore the sound of his chewing, but there was so little else happening around her it was impossible. When the man finally cleaned his plate, he took a long draw from his cup and turned to smile at her.
“There, now that I have my mortal requirements fulfilled, I can focus my attention on more important matters. Like, for instance, your boredom. In fact, I think I have just the thing.”
Elrinm pulled a small, folded piece of paper from one of his sleeves and handed it to her.
“What’s this?”
“It’s from my apprentice. It seems he couldn’t wait to tell you this in person.”
“What does it say?”
“My dear, I find it best not to get mixed up in other people’s affairs unless absolutely necessary. Why don’t you read it and find out.”
Elrinm’s apprentice was a boy about Alandria’s age named Ryn Tarka. They met years ago, before he started down the path of becoming a wizard, and had been best friends ever since. They stayed in contact as best they could, but as the years went by and they each garnered more responsibility, their meetings became less frequent.
She unfolded the page and read the very short message written there. It said:
After the feast. North Tower. Bring cake.
Alandria smiled. Ryn was a sucker for cake, especially if it came from the King’s kitchen.
“Has he petitioned you to bring him cake?”
“How did you know?”
“The boy is nothing if not predictable. He asked me three times before I left to bring him some. Sometimes I’m amazed he hasn’t blown up to the size of a cow.”
“Give him time, Master Wizard. He’s still young.”
“Very true my dear. Very true.”
There was a pop next to her, and Alandria turned to see her father pouring out a glass of champagne for everyone at the table. When they had been served, the King turned his attention to the gathered guests. After a moment the chatter died away, and everyone in attendance was focused on the King.
“As the evening draws to a close,” he said, “I find the urge to toast the engagement of my daughter, Cydonia, to Frederick of Arris. When I first met Frederick I was taken by his graciousness and wit. He is a kind man and I know he will treat my daughter as well as any father could hope.” He turned to look at the young couple, both of whom were trying not to be embarrassed. “I wish you both long years of happiness together.”
“Cheers!” The cry came from all the guests, and in a moment every glass in the room was drained. As the servants scrambled to refill everyone’s cups, the King plopped back down in his chair.
“I think it’s almost time for this old man to find his bed.”
“I was thinking the same,” said the King of Arris. “My lady, would you care to accompany me to our chambers?”
The Queen smiled and offered him her hand. “It would be my pleasure.”
The two rose, bowed to the room, and left, escorted by her father and half a dozen guards dressed in the finery of Arris. Alandria watched them go then turned to address her sister.
Cydonia was sitting with her arm wrapped around Frederick’s, hanging on his every word. Alandria hated to interrupt them, but she really wanted to leave and didn’t want to wait.
“Cydonia,” she said, “excuse me a moment. I’m about to leave and I wanted to say goodnight.”
“How thoughtful of you. Frederick, have you met my sister yet?”
Frederick rose from the table and took Alandria’s hand gently. His grip was strong, but kind. “It is an honor, Alandria. I have heard many great things about you from your sister.”
Alandria cast him a sardonic grin. “It’s all right. You don’t have to lie.”
Frederick looked taken aback for a second, looked to Cydonia, and smiled when he saw she was doing the same.
“Don’t worry, Frederick, that’s just my sister’s wit shining through. Please, Alandria, don’t scare him off.”
“You don’t have to worry about that. It would take more than a joke to make me forget my love for you.”
Alandria almost choked. “How sweet. I suppose I should let you two get back to your conversation. I just wanted to wish you both well on this wonderful night.”
“Again, thank you my sister. I will see you in the morning.”
“It was a pleasure meeting you, Alandria. I look forward to getting to know my future sister-in-law better.”
“You, too, Frederick. Good night.”
She turned, winked at Elrinm, and then cut a verge large piece of cake for Ryn. Wrapping it in a napkin, Alandria turned and made her way out of the hall. She was halfway through the door when she heard a clank and a shout. Her earlier escort ran up from behind, adjusting his helmet and breathing very hard. He did not say a word, but Alandria could tell he was not thrilled at having to leave his wine glass behind.
“You can go back to the feast,” she said. “I don’t need an escort.”
“I’m sorry, your highness, but I can’t. Not until you make it back to your chambers safe and sound, anyway. If I let you walk back alone, Ole Steven would have my head.”
Alandria spun around to face the guard. “What if we both just agreed to tell everyone you walked me back? There isn’t anyone around that could say different.” She held her hand out to wave at the empty corridors around them. Everyone was busy drinking and eating in the Dining Hall and outside. “You can just turn around and head on back to the feast, and I can walk on alone to my chambers.”
“I don’t know, milady. I got a bad feeling about it. Why don’t you just let me walk you back? It’s not that far.”
Alandria sighed. “Because I don’t feel like playing the part of the princess right now. I would rather pretend to be a normal girl that can walk down a hall without an armed guard on her heels. Could you please—just this once—grant me that wish?”
She stepped forward and put her hand on his cheek. For a moment she couldn’t tell what he was going to do, but eventually he smiled and scratched his forehead.
“I’m sorry, milady. If I’d known how much it meant to you, I wouldn’t have made such a fuss. I don’t suppose any harm can come of it, as long as we both promise not to tell, that is.” He smiled and tipped his helmet toward her before turning to leave.
Alandria smiled. Sometimes, she thought, it’s fun getting people to do what you want. She turned and headed toward the kennels. There wouldn’t be anyone around tonight, and it would give her a free exit to the outer courtyard.
Her father’s hunting hounds were all asleep when she opened the door, but within seconds they were all lined up, whining to be petted. She scratched all five of them behind their ears for a second then went out the back door. The courtyard was empty. The sounds of celebration drifted over the walls, though, and she could see the light of the bonfire on the other side of the castle. Without wasting any time, she crossed the cobbled ground to the North Tower.
The door opened easily, and she was climbing the spiraling steps within seconds. When she reached the top of the tower, she found it dark and empty. Frowning, she sat in one of the two only chairs.
Ryn better not make me wait too long. If I’m not back in my room before Maddy goes to check on me I’ll be in big trouble.
The door opened below, squashing her concerns.
“It’s about time you decided to show up,” she called down the stairs.
There was no answer.
“Ryn? Is that you?”
Torchlight topped the stairs, causing her eyes to blur for a moment. When they adjusted she let out a small gasp.
“You…you’re not Ryn.”
The bald, scarred man smiled. “That’s right Princess Cydonia. Now, if you’ll just come with me…”
On the suggestion of a friend, I set up a myspace.com account. There isn't a whole lot there, but that may change in the near future. My page can be accessed by following this link.
Hope everyone is well... Now, back to work on The Book of Elrinm, or whatever it will end up being called...
I started writing this yesterday morning, but got side-tracked and am having to finish it now.
Stellarcon was a huge success. I met some really great people (too many to name individuals), and had a really great time in the process. Everyone was super-cool, and I even managed to make it through all of my panels without making an ass out of myself. At least, I think so, anyway.
Saturday night, after pretty much everything was wrapped up, I found myself at a party hosted by Michael Pederson of Nth Degree. I was told that it was to be the party of the Con, and I think that was a fair estimation. Two rooms were taken over for the affair, and people were still spilling out into the halls. It was great. One of the highlights of that party was the Nth Tea. This, for those of you that don't know, is a special mix of chi tea and about seven different types of liquor concocted by Michael himself. All I know is that halfway through my first cup, I was doing quite well. The coolest thing about it, though, was that it tasted great! It was one of those horribly-dangerous, alcoholic beverages that allow you to lose track of yourself quite easily. I managed to pace myself, though, and I was thankful for that yesterday morning.
Other con highlights: There are almost too many. Meeting Timothy Zahn at the ConCarolinas party Friday night was great, and getting to appear beside him on the Star Wars Episode III panel was even better. Everyone on that panel was great, though. Actually, all the panelists I was with were fantastic, now that I think about it.
The first one I did was called "Should you go there" or something similar, and was about the Dark Side of writing. Tee Morris, Tony Ruggierio, Jana Oliver, and Shawn Reynolds were on that panel with me, and they were fabulous! I don't think I could have made it through without them.
I would love to include every cool thing that happened at the con, but I think that post would end up taking the rest of the day to write, so I think I'll have to stop there.
In a few short hours things are going to start getting pretty hectic. I've got three (maybe four) drum lessons to teach tonight, and then it's off to record "Home Again" with The Downing Harris Band. It's a really catchy song, and we plan on having it finished and delivered to some local radio stations within the next few weeks. I'll let you know for sure when they have it in rotation.
After that, I've got to get ready for StellarCon. I'm really looking forward to this convention. It's been a while since I participated in a weekend-long Con, and I've been missing it. I know I'm scheduled for at least three panels and a reading. One of the panels is about where Lucas went wrong (or didn't) with Episode III. Man, do I have a lot to say on that topic. I watched it again last night, and I had a tough time of it. For a movie that had so much potential to kick ass, it sure fell short. Oh well.
So, the next few days are going to be pretty hectic, but I know they'll be a lot of fun, too.
On another note, I watched Mirrormask this week and was totally blown away. It was a little slow in places, but overall it was a beautiful film with a great story. I hope we see more from Dave McKean as a director, because he's brilliant.
One last thing: My brother, Larry, sent me this link yesterday. To try and describe the article would take more energy than I have to offer right now. Sorry.
Anyway, I hope all is well with everyone, and I hope I get to see some of you this weekend at the Con.
But not in any kind of entertaining way. I just realized that all of my web-surfing basically consists of revisiting the same four or five sites over and over and over again in the hopes of new content. Regardless of how many times I've been there in one day without anything new, I still go back, hoping this time it will be different. I think I may have a slight case of OCD.
So, I guess, if anyone knows of any good sites, please direct me to them. I'm getting tired of not reading anything new online. Of course, I could always go and write some more, but that would make too much sense. I can't go being productive, can I?
I just ran across this article on Alternet a minute ago and felt I needed to share. It talks about how telecommunications and cable companies are working to not only monitor and track everything we do online, but also charge us exorbitant fees for surfing and sending emails. As the article asks, is this the end of the internet as we know it?