29
Dec
No, I am not dead, despite all appearances to the contrary. I am, I think, quite alive. However, I have been absent from this blog for almost the entirety of December. Some of that was for good reason, some laziness. However, with the coming of the new year, I’m back.
So, I suppose this is a good time to outline a few things about where I stand with books, projects, and all those other bits of writing that I’ve got going on. You may have heard about this Splintered Lands thing I’ve been working on. Well, it’s getting closer. A lot closer. The first book should be out next year, and with luck, so should the second. There’s 3 novels, an anthology, and a novella all coming. They’re written by brilliant authors, and as the time gets closer I’ll be seriously encouraging you to go check them out.
I’ve also got a short story called King Bloodaxe coming soon. Call it a “Viking” fantasy. The story’s done, and off with readers now, and you know it’s a good thing when the first reply back is “where’s the second story?”
Finally, I’m announcing a tentative publishing date for Chloddio, second book in The Four Part Land, of July 21st. It’s currently in rewrites, although I should probably say extensions. I edited the story so fiercely the first couple times that it’s fallen below the word count I’d like to publish as a standalone print novel, so I’m writing new segments to flesh out certain subplots.
For those of you who’ve read Tarranau, this story takes place at almost the same time, and indeed many of the events in one story overlaps with the other. It begins a second trilogy that will follow Chloddio the stonemage as he seeks battle with enemies from the high tundra and the burning desert, until the path ends at the gates of his city.
And now to whet your appetite, I have a little excerpt from the story. At the time of the journey, Chloddio is a freshly recruited soldier, traveling on his first patrol through the lands of Tri-Hauwcerton.
On the seventh morning past the cave, the squad descended to a valley floor, a grey and winding passage that marched west to east. The valley itself swept around in a great crescent, and the ends were hidden from view behind mountains weathered and old. It was a desolate place, with thin grass and low bracken the only plants to be see. Here, even the patrol road shrank away to a faint trace on the ground, as if nothing could make its mark on this landscape.
The patrol swept past, Chloddio eager to be gone from this desolate place. In the high mountains, there had been a savage beauty, primal nature unscarred by the hand of man. Here, though, there was just savagery, for the beauty was stolen by the howling of the winds and the whispers of the grass.
Presently Sergeant Werilc called for the lunch halt, amidst a field of tumbledown boulders that provided some protection from the wind. Knackered, the patrol eagerly set to, and Chloddio sat himself down next to Jankoaen and Verick.
“Are there people this far out into the wilderness?”
Jank shrugged. “There have been, from time to time. Mostly bandits though.”
“Every decade or so, some poor fool who doesn’t like city life and rules decides to come out here and set up a village with his friends and family.” Verick gestured at the landscape around them. “Usually they come running back after the first winter. Those that survived, anyway.”
“There’s people that do that?”
“When you have nothing, the only thing to risk is yourself. And people don’t put too high a price on their own lives when they’re beggared and starving.”
“You know, Jank, you’re just going to depress me and the young lad. Try being cheerful for once.”
“Depressing? Me? You’re the old maid nattering on about those wilding villagers. Earth’s peace, most of those are just legends, told third hand.”
“Better my third hand than your first. Since all you do is make it up as you go along.”
“Enough, ladies.” Sergeant Werilc folded himself into a seating position. “Jankoaen’s right. The last known village north of the Carns died a full decade ago. Even the tax collectors stopped trying, and they hunt down dead people. As for the bandits, well, all of us veterans fought them up here once or twice. But even those were usually further south, trying to poach the ore from the mines. Out here? Nothing. Even the army only comes this way because it’s a shortcut. And because it gives us a little mountain and outdoor training without being too dangerous.”
Jankoaen sniffed the air. “We’re cutting it close this year, Sergeant.”
“I know. Why do you think we march so quickly?” With that the sergeant was on his feet, bellowing for the soldiers to pack their food and get back onto the road.
A clatter in the rocks behind him spun Chloddio about. Standing before him was a man dressed in furs and leathers, and carrying a crude blade. Shouting a warning, the stonemage dove to the side, grabbing at his hammer and shield. The veterans were just as fast to react, as all about the camp scruffy bandits appeared, weapons and armour crude and homemade. Standing atop a rock was the bandit’s leader, and he pointed at their packs with a sword, the blade dulled by age.
“Give us your packs, your tents, your food. Everything.”
“You have got to be kidding me.”
4
Nov
I woke up to a wonderful gift this Friday morning – A long review of Tarranau by Alex Laybourne. Here’s how it opens…
Epic Fantasy is not normally a genre I read, but ever since I have started becoming serious about my writing, I have promised myself to expand my knowledge base in as many areas as I can, and the first thing I wanted to do was to expand my reading interests.
Tarranau was the perfect book to get me started, because to summarize for all of those who do not have the time to read this but would still like to hear a few words… It was AWESOME.
As you can imagine, I was super pleased. It’s such a lovely present to see on a Friday morning.
3
Oct
Now, you may not have noticed because I’ve been fairly quiet about it, but Breaking an Empire came out late last week. It’s a novella that details much of the backstory of Bedwar Barthu Dirio, and the war that built the kingdoms seen in Tarranau. I absolutely adored writing it, and, if I may, I shall quote an earlier post that I wrote when I finished the story.
Breaking an Empire was a short story I set out to write to bring Unfolding a New Continent up to the word limit I wanted it to be at before I started editing. It was supposed to be 25,000 words of backstory as to why the two main kingdoms of The Four Part Land hate one another so much. Effectively, it was a longer take on those history segments over on the main page. It turned out quite differently than that, for me. Oh, the story went where it was supposed to. I couldn’t change that without rewriting the setting. But I didn’t expect the six characters to mean this much to me. Every other time I’ve finished a longer piece of work I’ve been happy. It feels like a great accomplishment, and then with a little polish it’ll be great. This… this feels a little more like a loss, like closing the chapter on something that shouldn’t quite yet be over.
30,000 words from when I introduced them, here is the conclusion to the story of Rhyfelwyr, Locsyn, Taflen, Gwyth, Llofruddiwr, and Rhocas. I will miss them.
I really enjoyed writing these characters. So much so, that when the opportunity came, I wrote this, and brought these old Veryan soldiers back. I had to. I missed writing them so much I was willing to tweak the plot of books 5 and 6 of The Four Part Land series to make sure they could reappear. And, so, like the story says, the boys will be be back.
Now, on to the giveaway!
This one is pretty simple. All you have to do is buy a $0.99 copy of Breaking an Empire and forward the email receipt to jamestallett AT thefourpartland DOT com. The first 20 people to do so will receive free electronic copies of Tarranau, the first novel in the epic fantasy series Tales of The Four Part Land. Or you can just subscribe to the newsletter from over there on the left. Either way, you get an epic fantasy novel with multiple five star reviews for nothing! So why wait?
Where to buy Breaking an Empire – Kindle USA – Kindle UK – Barnes and Noble – Smashwords
28
Sep
I’ve been fairly quiet on here recently, and I’m not entirely sure that it’s going to change. But it might, never know. That said, I thought I’d let people know where I’ve been the last month or so, and what I’ve been up to.
The first is that since the last day in May, I have been gainfully employed. After two years getting my MBA, actually have a paycheck, and thus money, was a strange and unusual occurrence. I could purchase things simply for pleasure, rather than otherwise. Given it coincided more or less with Borders’ going out of business, this means that I am now the owner of rather too many books. Too many more books, I should say. As you can see to the right.
As an addendum to the job front, I am now in the housing market. This is a strange experience, and would represent the first property I own entirely on my own. It’s been an interesting journey, and I’m now somewhere on house 40+, in terms of those seen, but I do appear to have finally found one or two that I like. So I may, just may, have a place to call my own before the end of the year.
This would do wonders for my writing, for right now I commute an hour and fifteen either way each day. The job is worth it, but I can’t wait until I get a place an hour closer, and get two hours back each day. At least one of those hours could likely be spent on writing, and what a boon that would be for my storytelling.
On the subject of my storytelling, there are a few bits and pieces going around. I have been interviewed by the wonderful Alex Laybourne, who is entirely too kind. If you have even a moment to pop over there, please do, and show support to a friend of indie writers. Later this week, he’ll have a guest post from me on how I create worlds, and specifically where The Four Part Land came from.
Finally, and this will appear in a separate post soon enough, Breaking an Empire is starting to crop up on shelves today. It’s on Amazon and Smashwords, and I’m just waiting for it to hit Barnes and Noble before having a nice big announcement.
There’s also a few contests that just might be kicking off soon around these parts, so keep those eyes peeled. And now, back to my rather boring life.
29
Jul
In addition to my normally scheduled post today, I have a little gift for you readers. If you go to Smashwords and enter coupon code LV72P, you’ll get Tarranau for 40% off.
AND L.M. Stull is making this deal even more enticing —> Visit her blog for details on how you can snag an autographed paperback! But you’ll have to hurry – these offers only last until Sunday night California time.
Coloured Waves
A wave lapped at the shore, foam tinted red.
Water splashed as boys sprinted from the ocean, running before the surf.
Some fell, and did not rise. Others stumbled, then ran all the more.
Fountains danced upon the sand, becoming flowers for but a moment.
Flowers there would be, but not here, not yet.
Men no longer ran from the surf. They stood with shovels and concrete, waved and shouted.
They built, and the beach disappeared under their construction.
Then they left.
A wave lapped at the shore, foam tinted white.
.
.
.
.
And the second half of the double feature.
String
A string. Such a petty, tiny object. Used for mundane tasks, boring tasks. Yet it represents the universe. Ever wonder why that was the case?
Because it is string. Circular, I know. But the infinite possible actions with a piece of string mirror the universe.
Someday, we’ll understand what we see. Truly understand, that is. Right now we build theorems and descriptions and formulae, and no one really comprehends.
When measurement produces what something is, and not what something looks like, then we will know.
And upon that day, we believe.
19
Jul
The Lianese line began to slacken and turn back on itself on one side of the square, and Rhy tried to look over the combat to see what could steal their resolve, but he could see nothing. The scene resolved itself moments later, as several Lianese soldiers collapsed with daggers piercing their throats, revealing a blood-soaked Llofruddiwr standing with two of his long-knives in hand, slashing into his Lianese foes. Caught between a suddenly surging shield wall on one side and a dervish on the other, the Lianese turned back to back, fighting desperately as two of them tried to slay Llofruddiwr. He dismissed their pitiful attempts, catching each strike on his knives before batting one Lianese weapon aside and kicking the soldier in the groin. One foe incapacitated, Llof turned his full attention on the other, and in a whirlwind of cuts and slices, hacked away at the wrist on the sword hand, wounding it until it could no longer hold its weapon. Both foes rendered incapable, he stabbed each, cutting an artery and letting them bleed out.
The Lianese forces on that side of the barricade were soon finished, but two more Veryan troops had fallen, rending their total count down to nine, now that Llofruddiwr had returned to bolster them. That left those nine against fifteen of the Lianese, and the Veryan forces were exhausted. Locsyn could barely stand, having been cut along his thigh, unable to lower the shield to defend himself. Rhocas had gained a wound across the back of his sword hand, and his arm trembled each time he tried to lift the blade. Gwyth stood like a rock, but this rock bled from cut after cut, and even his prodigious strength had slowed and weakened. Only Taflen stood unwounded, for even Rhyfelwyr and Llofruddiwr had been struck. Knowing what must be done, Rhy called out “Charge!” and leapt over the barricade, followed by Llof on his left and Taflen on his right, with the other soldiers a step behind.
Rhy could feel the energy fast draining from his body as he pushed it beyond all limits, and he staggered on his third step, nearly falling to the ground as he struggled with the enemy in front of him. Only a Llof knife-thrust stopped that stumble from being the end, and in a moment Rhyfelwyr was back on his feet, his sword sweeping around in a low arc to cut the ankle of an enemy, shield held high to protect from strikes to the head. Gwyth summoned his massive strength for one last blow, and simply slammed his blade into a Lianese shield, cutting through the wood and metal to drive the tip of his weapon into his foe’s neck. Sword caught in the shield, he let it go and grasped his shield with two hands, laying about him as if it were a club.
The far end of the line was anchored by Rhocas and Locsyn, and they fought as a team, one blocking strikes, the other leaping forward to thrust through the openings created. The style of combat was alien to the Lianese troops, and two fell before they began to understand the rhythm of blows, and drive the two Veryan soldiers backwards. Stumbling, Locsyn was only just able to turn his body to catch the attack on his shield, and he saw Rhocas take a further step back, leaving Locsyn fighting two on his own. Locsysn did all he could to defend himself, not even trying to counter, only trying to deflect the strikes as they came at him. He was rewarded for his skill a few moments later when a lance of blue flame flew over his shoulder and played upon the nearest Lianese troops, incinerating the two he had been fighting, and then turning down the line to catch two more.
The burst of flame from Rhocas left the young mage in a near faint, kneeling on the ground and retching, but it had shattered the Lianese soldiers entirely, and they scattered, a few caught from behind by the daggers of Llofruddiwr, but most escaping, the Veryan soldiers too exhausted to try and follow. Gathering themselves in a tight circle, Taflen applied bandages to the various wounds, cutting strips of cloth from the dead soldiers around them. They waited there for many minutes as the sun passed across the sky, sprawled upon the ground like so many dead, their bodies shut down. Only when the sun began to touch the tops of the buildings did Rhyfelwyr stand again, and gesture the others onwards, towards the warehouses.
Eight Veryan soldiers set out, Rhyfelwyr in the lead. Another had died while they recovered in the market. Rhyfelwyr looked about and his small unit, blood spattered, staggering, and at less than half strength, and wondered why he did this. Why did he lead young men into battle over and over, only to watch them die? He feared he knew the answer: he could do no other thing, that he was such a soldier he could no longer exist outside the strictures of the army. Perhaps he couldn’t, at that.
15
Jul
The proof arrived yesterday, and I approved it late last night. This morning, I was able to order the first author’s copies of my novel. It’ll hit Amazon soon, and I’ll be sure to let you all know.
12
Jul
The second charge came, and it was repulsed in the same way as the first, glass spheres breaking the momentum at point-blank range. There spheres rarely killed, but the clouds of abrasive glass would injure many an eye, and the spray of sharpened waste would make the ground a spike-ridden mess, and for that Rhyfelwyr was grateful. In the brief pause as the Lianese forces gathered for a third charge, Rhy spoke with his squad, pulling them from the lines.
“We’ve lost three of the twenty men we started with, and three more are like Locsyn, wounded. They’re going to throw a third round of javelins, and we’ve already tightened the wall once. Do we charge?”
Taflen looked up, examining the Lianese forces for a long moment before shaking his head. “We stay, we’ll take more of them with us that way.”
Gwyth grunted. “Uplifting, you are.”
Nervously twirling the end of his moustache in one hand, Locsyn shook his head. “Rhocas, can you get us out of this?”
The young mage sighed. “I’ve been training as a mage for only a few days, I can just barely manage summoning fire when I want it. I can’t do one of the giant balls of flame. I’m sorry.”
Rhy patted the young man on the back. “Nothing to be sorry about, you signed on as a soldier and you do a soldier’s job. We stand.” Rhy turned back to his post in the centre of the barricade, and only Taflen heard him mutter that “I hope Llof comes up with something.”
The third trumpet called, and Gwyth readied himself, his shield held high to catch the incoming javelins. His arm ached and a slow trickle of blood flowed from where the arrow had pierced it in the morning, but he ignored the pain, and caught the first Lianese soldier over the wall on his shield, slamming it up into his foe as the man jumped from the barricades. A sword thrust around the side slammed into the Lianese ribs, and Gwyth dumped him off, shield reset to deal with the next foe.
Taflen steadied himself, one foot up on the wooden barrier, and as the first of his foes tried to scramble across, he caught the fool with a hard strike to the helmet, cleaving the protection and leaving his foe writhing on the ground. Two more followed at the same time, pushing Taflen back as he fought to keep his shield in front of one and strike at the other with his sword. The split attention meant neither succeeded, and a thrust at his ribs was only stopped by the quick attention of the Veryan soldier to Taflen’s left. That assistance allowed the historian to strike hard at the legs of the foe to his right, and the sword carved through the shin until it lodged midway into the bone, yanked from his hand as the Lianese soldier fell. With nothing but his shield left, Taflen put his right hand behind the boss and slammed it into the face of his second foe, knocking him backwards. The strike was too late for Taflen’s ally, for in stopping the thrust at Taflen he had left himself open, and a countering blow had left him dying in the dirt. In the brief moment of freedom that he had, Taflen grabbed the sword from his fallen comrade’s hand, stepping backwards and readying himself for the next foe to come.
The shield wall contracted further, with only ten of the original twenty still standing, of which five came from Rhyfelwyr’s squad. He was proud of them, that they would stand against the odds, but some twenty five Lianese soldiers remained to press in on them, and that left Rhy sore at heart. He could see Rhocas calling on his magic, and brief sputters of flame would appear, but the carnage and the chaos of the battle had stolen the mage’s concentration, and soon he fell back on his sword, standing in the shield wall and delivering blow for blow, his face pale with sweat. The young man had seen too little of life to die, and he fought with the strength of the desperate, fear lending power to his strikes, and speed to his counters.
5
Jul
Several times they were struck from the side or the front by opposing Lianese soldiers, but each time, the Lianese were repulsed, although one close encounter had hung in the balance until Rhocas had gathered himself and sent a jet of flame playing across the Lianese front lines. Their moral broken, the Lianese tried to flee, and were slain by the charging Veryan forces.
Each skirmish brought Rhocas, Rhyfelwyr and their forces closer to the warehouses, and now they could see the bulky shapes only a few streets away, the heavy forms promising food and sustenance for weeks to come. Calling to his troops to rally on, Rhyfelwyr trotted round a corner to find himself in a market square, still filled with the stands and stalls of the hawkers. Cautious for an ambush, he gestured left and right, sending Taflen and Gwyth to scout through the remains. The other soldiers tucked themselves in tightly, forming a small square of shields at the edge of the open area.
Taflen advanced cautiously, his sword and shield held at the ready, eyes as much on the roofs around him as they were on possible foes hidden behind the stalls. Gwyth strode forward, openly challenging any who would dare to come stand with him, using his shield to swipe the stands aside, knocking them to the ground. After both had passed through two-thirds of the square, they glanced at one another, and nodded at Rhyfelwyr. The sergeant led his forces forward at a steady pace, until he glanced upwards and saw Llof standing on the building opposite, waving and point down at the street below. Rhy cursed, then shouted at the men around him. “Square, form a square! Pull the stands in as barricades! Now! Now!”
The Veryan soldiers leapt to obey, with Gwyth picking up two stands at a time and stacking them into a deep wall in the direction that Llof had gestured. Within moments there was a shielded square of Veryan forces, wrapped around by an outer barrier of wooden stalls and market detritus. As they finished readying themselves, Lianese forces poured from two of the streets into the market. Combined, the two forces outnumbered the Veryan three to one or four to one, and Rhy steeled himself for what was to come. Leaning over, he tapped Rhocas on the shoulder. “Don’t both using your magic until we’re engaged. Otherwise, you’ll be a pincushion.” Turning to bellow to the soldiers around him, the sergeant cried out orders for the defence. “Grab spheres! Meet their charge at five paces! Then swords!” The soldiers readied appropriately, their faces showing the strain of half a day fighting in the alleys of Horaim, for the sun stood high overhead, and it had barely crested the horizon when the fire had first struck the north gates of the city. Here and there, a shield or a sword sagged towards the ground, but their comrades would jostle the arm back to its proper place.
A trumpet rang out from within the Lianese forces, and Locsyn saw the javelins being readied that would precede the charge. His arm pained him greatly, and was still all but useless, but he had been able to sling his shield from his shoulder and strap it to his upper arm. He could barely move it, but it covered half his body, and that was better than before. Wordlessly, he took the sphere of glass that Rhocas proffered him and tucked it away in his belt pouch. A second trumpet sounded, and Locsyn ducked down as the Lianese charge began and the javelins flew overhead. Most were deflected away, caught in the barrier or glancing off shields, but a few pierced through the shields, and others found gaps in the defences, opening small holes in the Veryan forces. Men stepped forward to fill the holes, leaving an already thin line even thinner. Soon, Locysn knew he would be called to step into the line, and do the best he could with but one arm.
As the Lianese forces reached three paces from the barricade, Rhyfelwyr cried “Throw!”, and the glass spheres were hurled outward, smashing into the face and shields of their foe, shattering into clouds of abrasive shards and cutting splinters. The front lines of the charge stumbled and collapsed, blinded Lianese soldiers collapsing to the ground with broken and bloodied faces. Those behind tripped and fell over their comrades, leaving the charge a ruin before it even reached the barriers. And now, when they tried to charge again, there would caltrops scattered across the ground, promising injury to any who tried to step forward.
The Veryan forces watched as the Lianese withdrew, picking their wounded up and pulling back to gather against the edges of the market square, building courage for another charge. Rhyfelwyr wished they had been able to take more advantage of the confusion of the broken charge, but that would have meant breaking the shield wall and stepping over the barricades, and giving up that defensive surety for a momentarily opportunity was not worth the cost. He called out, and the second, and last, round of spheres was brought to hand. There would be nothing but the sword after this, and if the Lianese were wise to that and started to bombarbed the Veryan forces with arrows, the only response Rhy could conjure would be a deadly charge over the barricades, into a waiting force. He could only hope that the battle was going well enough elsewhere, so that these Lianese forces did not have the time for a leisurely battle.
24
Jun
This is an excerpt from the third novel, Laeccan Waters. Currently, the main characters and their Hálsiend allies are trying to extract themselves from a raid that went badly wrong.
Ceinder fought desperately to defend those Hálsiends around her, but their numbers were getting thinner and thinner each time she looked. Even with her assistance on their strikes, there were so many of the enemy that exhaustion was killing many of her allies, as they became slow, and too tired to block the next blow. Indeed, she was reaching that same level herself, and if she did not collapse right then, she would do soon. Still, she had managed to hold the line, preventing the Þracian troops from overwhelming them here.
On the other flank of the battle, Atyniadol and the two warriors were all but fallen, their armour covered in nicks and cuts, and with red seeping out from several places on Atyniadol, for her thinner armour could not turn blades aside the way the mountain plate of Tri-Hauwcerton could. Atyniadol knew that soon she would need to step back from the battle to staunch her wounds, but there was never a break, never a moment when she could disengage and take that time, for they were so closely pressed by the enemy Áðexe that losing the rhythm of attack and block would see her skewered on the end of a thrust. So she fought on as the crimson trails crept further up her arms.
Next to her, Sawwaed and Bwyell could both see the distress that Atyniadol was in, but despite their best efforts, they could not carve out a pocket of peace in the centre of the maelstrom either, and so they lashed left and right with their hammers, the blows less well-timed and more wild, as they relied again and again upon their armour to save them. Their shields were chipped and dented in many places, for they were as much weapon as protection, and often their most effective assault was to slam a foe with the heavy boss upon the shield’s face, and finish the matter with a second strike from the war hammer.
By now, they had built a bulwark of corpses about their position, and the Áðexe of Þracian were forced to climb over the bodies of their friends in order to get at the humans, but while that slowed the pace of the assault, it meant that the enemies came at the humans from on high, at the level of their heads, and thus were the humans continually forced backwards, into a tightening circle, their backs to their Hálsiendic allies.
Sawwaed risked a glance along the line of their retreat, and saw the dim figure of a man face down in the snow. Knowing that it could only be Tarranau, he shouted and bellowed over the field of battle, calling for all soldiers to pull back from the battlefield in a fighting retreat. They had probably left the matter for too long, for their were down to less than one hundred and fifty troops, but at least the casualties they had inflicted upon the Þracians were so grievous that their force could never been used again.
The Hálsiends now gave ground with every step, ceding the hilltop position to their foes as they clustered about the western edge of the rise. With them came Ceinder, still on her feet and still deflecting enemy blows, although now she staggered with each one that she pushed aside. Bwyell reached Tarranau’s body first, flipping him over and listening for a moment before nodding to Sawwaed. Sawwaed grabbed the two nearest Áðexe, detailing them to carry Tarranau during the retreat.
Of the Þracians following them, there were perhaps six hundred left, and while that matter meant that the casualties inflicted were far in the favour of the Hálsiends, the difference in size of force still looked to spell the end for the humans and their allies.