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robinturnerBy popular request by at least one person, here is the second page of the novel.
While I proved better with swords than sorcery, I didn't enjoy the army life much, so when I was invited to replace our chief, who had just died, I accepted the chance to do very little for the rest of my life. For ten years, I assessed taxes, settled disputes with sweet reason, and banged heads together when that didn't work.
That changed the night after my fortieth birthday. I was in the inn, rather out of sorts, partly because I had spent the other night in the inn being far too much in sorts, and partly because I'd had to do the banging heads thing---a couple of miners arguing about a woman, or who was slacking on the job, or whatever it was that miners argue about. Then there was a banging on the door---we'd put the bar up because the latch was broken and a foul wind kept blowing it open, otherwise I suppose the man would have just staggered in. It's funny how you remember little things like that. I opened the door and he practically fell into my arms. I steadied him then sat him down. He stared at the table, trying to catch his breath, then said: ``Twohills.''
``What about it?'' I asked.
``All dead.''
The miners and farmers, who had been silent till now, all started shouting at once. I yelled for quiet, and eventually got it. Putting my hand on the man's shoulder I asked: ``How?''
``Lanbous. Killed everyone.''
``All the men?''
``Everyone. Women, neuters, kids '' He stared at me with a look I'd seen in soldiers a few times: it said ``Such things can't happen, but they happened.''
Branow the bartender spoke up. ``That's not Lanbou work. They'll kill anyone who gets in their way, carry off children---that's about it. Never known them even rape women, let alone kill them.'' He spoke from more experience than most; like me he'd been a soldier once, and unlike me, he'd fought Lanbou raiders.
The man almost snarled at him. ``I saw what I saw. I came down the hill and everyone was dead. Lanbous were riding away.''
``What time was this?'' I asked, not wanting to see an argument about whether they'd really been Lanbous or the Lanbous had changed their habits.
``Nightfall, last night.''
``You ran fast to warn us. Thank you.'' I turned to Branow. ``Get this man a beer and something to eat. Then we'll decide what to do.''
The inn went back to a chaos of questions and oaths, but I let them talk it out while not letting them near the man. Once he'd eaten and drunk a little, I got all the information I could out of him, Branow over to listen. There was precious little information to be had; what he'd already told us was pretty much what there was. I made a decision.
``Quiet!'' I yelled. They were quiet; they were used to me. ``These Lanbous or whoever they are ran off into the mountains, but that doesn't mean they won't be back. Kaltay and Istalei, you come with me and Branow. The rest of you know the drill: get everyone into the north-east mine. At dawn, the good runners---that's you, you, you, you and you---keep watch in the village. If Lanbous or anyone else nasty-looking turn up, you hare off into the woods as soon as you think they can see you. I'll leave you my spy-glass, so you won't be taken by surprise, and if they really are Lanbous, they won't bother to chase you much anyway. If we're lucky, they'll think everyone else has run off too. If we're not, then like I said, you know the drill.'' I was about to stride out of the door forcefully before anyone could ask questions, then I remembered I'd forgotten something. ``Oh yes, and take care of that poor sod while your at it.''
While I proved better with swords than sorcery, I didn't enjoy the army life much, so when I was invited to replace our chief, who had just died, I accepted the chance to do very little for the rest of my life. For ten years, I assessed taxes, settled disputes with sweet reason, and banged heads together when that didn't work.
That changed the night after my fortieth birthday. I was in the inn, rather out of sorts, partly because I had spent the other night in the inn being far too much in sorts, and partly because I'd had to do the banging heads thing---a couple of miners arguing about a woman, or who was slacking on the job, or whatever it was that miners argue about. Then there was a banging on the door---we'd put the bar up because the latch was broken and a foul wind kept blowing it open, otherwise I suppose the man would have just staggered in. It's funny how you remember little things like that. I opened the door and he practically fell into my arms. I steadied him then sat him down. He stared at the table, trying to catch his breath, then said: ``Twohills.''
``What about it?'' I asked.
``All dead.''
The miners and farmers, who had been silent till now, all started shouting at once. I yelled for quiet, and eventually got it. Putting my hand on the man's shoulder I asked: ``How?''
``Lanbous. Killed everyone.''
``All the men?''
``Everyone. Women, neuters, kids '' He stared at me with a look I'd seen in soldiers a few times: it said ``Such things can't happen, but they happened.''
Branow the bartender spoke up. ``That's not Lanbou work. They'll kill anyone who gets in their way, carry off children---that's about it. Never known them even rape women, let alone kill them.'' He spoke from more experience than most; like me he'd been a soldier once, and unlike me, he'd fought Lanbou raiders.
The man almost snarled at him. ``I saw what I saw. I came down the hill and everyone was dead. Lanbous were riding away.''
``What time was this?'' I asked, not wanting to see an argument about whether they'd really been Lanbous or the Lanbous had changed their habits.
``Nightfall, last night.''
``You ran fast to warn us. Thank you.'' I turned to Branow. ``Get this man a beer and something to eat. Then we'll decide what to do.''
The inn went back to a chaos of questions and oaths, but I let them talk it out while not letting them near the man. Once he'd eaten and drunk a little, I got all the information I could out of him, Branow over to listen. There was precious little information to be had; what he'd already told us was pretty much what there was. I made a decision.
``Quiet!'' I yelled. They were quiet; they were used to me. ``These Lanbous or whoever they are ran off into the mountains, but that doesn't mean they won't be back. Kaltay and Istalei, you come with me and Branow. The rest of you know the drill: get everyone into the north-east mine. At dawn, the good runners---that's you, you, you, you and you---keep watch in the village. If Lanbous or anyone else nasty-looking turn up, you hare off into the woods as soon as you think they can see you. I'll leave you my spy-glass, so you won't be taken by surprise, and if they really are Lanbous, they won't bother to chase you much anyway. If we're lucky, they'll think everyone else has run off too. If we're not, then like I said, you know the drill.'' I was about to stride out of the door forcefully before anyone could ask questions, then I remembered I'd forgotten something. ``Oh yes, and take care of that poor sod while your at it.''
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some beta-reader reactions
Date: 2008-09-26 10:14 pm (UTC)I'm troubled by the last line -- the typo isn't helping, and I'm unconvinced whether it's supposed to be a Riddley-Walker style error betraying our-neuter-narrator's unfamiliarity with written language, but doubting, because there aren't enough of these. But i think mostly what's troubling about it is that I'm not clear on who the "sod" is; I take it it's the "bearer of bad news", but... also I have my suspicious hat on and I wonder what zie [narrator] means by "take care of".
Also "Sand people ride single file to hide their numbers".
Re: some beta-reader reactions
Date: 2008-09-26 11:24 pm (UTC)The "sod" is the bearer of bad news. Our narrator pumped him for information but forgot to ask his name. That's the kind of thing It does. (Hell, the narrator Itself doesn't have a name yet, but that's my fault.)
Jeez, I hope everyone doesn't go "Ah, Tuskan raiders!" At least I can assure you that the hero doesn't meet Its mentor there. It doesn't have a mentor. No Obi-wan, no Yoda, no Gandalf, no Morpheus. And no bloody prophecies either.
Re: some beta-reader reactions
Date: 2008-09-27 04:26 am (UTC)i'd better stop before I'm down the rabbit hole of trying to trace influences.
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Date: 2008-09-27 04:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-27 04:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-27 05:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-27 09:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-28 05:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-27 05:58 pm (UTC)(or just continue to post pretty regularly... whichever works better for you)