Polished Sword Part III LU's story

Honor, Lu and Jaster looked into the diminishing camp fire. Lu looked at the other two faces and began:

“I'll go next.” He didn't want Honor to tell her story. He definitely wanted to know what happened... yet a part of him didn't want to know. Just in case it wasn't what he wanted to hear. Maybe if his story was long enough, Jaster would be tired and the fire would be dead and Honor wouldn't have to attempt an explanation. Lu was certain that the policeman inside of him would be able to see the lies too easily and then it would never be the same between him and Honor. Anyway, if he could delay it, Honor could be spared a potentially embarraing situation. After all, he owed her... she'd saved his life.

“I grew up just east of the Deer Mountains in a village called the Village of Does. My father bred and trained champion hunting hounds for the nobles in towns and cities to the south. He even had some patrons as far south as Lyndeen.”

“Lyna's Deeden?” Jaster said.

“That's the old name,” Lu said.

“Ah”

“As I was saying...where was I? Well, when I was about 8 my father began to teach me the business. He loved me and had high hopes for me, but I knew that his highest hopes were for my older brother Finn. Finn was, and is, a strong and energetic man. My dad could tell that he was smart too. He devised a new training program that resulted in more obedient dogs. It also shortened the training period by three weeks.

“That is why my dad took it so hard when Finn joined the Queen's army. You see, despite Finn's work, our business was declining. Several breeders in the south had begun aggressively courting our best clients. Revenues were thinning and I think that Finn knew that there was no future there. But he also knew that he'd do well in the army. Like I said, he was strong and smart; he would excell and be a capable captain. Maybe even a field marshall one day.

After Finn left, business got even worse and Dad started drinking. We had less money and he spent what little we had on wine and rumbullion.”

“What's that?” Honor asked.

“It's a hard liquor made from molasses.” Jaster said.

“Anyway,” Lu continued, “Dad stumbled home one day and my mother lost it. She yelled and wept and he cowered in the corner. I had always worshiped my dad like was Dan the Triumphant. But I saw him in the corner and he looked up at me and I think he felt the shame and disappointment... the pity.” Lu paused and threw a pebble into the fire.

“He just...” Lu paused again. “He just... exploded. But not at me, at my mother. He shoved her hard into the wall. She screamed and then he was throwing a chair at me. I tried to duck but it hit me hard and gave me this scar by my ear.” Lu pointed to a line by his left ear.

Honor was looking at Lu and Lu noticed. He liked the concern in her eyes. She's looking at me. Is that pity? Those are very clear eyes. Lu thought.

“I guess it's harder to see with my beard getting longer.”

“You should shave.” Honor said. Lu almost said, “I may need help with that,” but he held his tongue.

“You look almost like me. A real mountain man!” Jaster said, patting Lu on the shoulder. “You were like a fortress when you first got here, but now you're a cute marmoset.”

Lu groaned. Honor laughed. “but his beard is probably not as soft as a marmoset's is.”

“You should check,” Jaster said. Honor stroked his beard... “Hmm. Pretty soft, but not as nice as an Arctic Marmoset. Maybe the desert variety.”

lu rolled his eyes. “Maybe I can be forgiven for not being perfectly groomed for the last (month? Season? Week?). But...”

Jaster interrupted him, “What happened next? Were you okay?”

“Oh.. well...My mom picked me up and ran to the servants' quarters where we spent the night on some of their alfalfa mattresses, with old Dirk at the door.”

“The next day my dad was as sorry as can be and he promised that it would never happen again. And it didn't. For a month anyway. And then he was in a rage again, directing his fists to my mom. I usually ran away...” Lu looked at honor again. Does she think me a coward?

“Then he was so sorry again the next day. He promised it would never happen again. But the next time was only 3 weeks or so away. Each episode came closer and closer together until he was drunk and violent almost every night. We avoided him whenever we could.

One night though, we got inhis way. I forget why we were even in the main house, but we were and we got in his way. He grabbed mom and pinned her down and...” Lu's voice got heavy and he coughed.

“I ran down the lane and wept by the mail post at the end of our estate. I was so distracted that I didn't hear the horse's hooves on the gravel until they were very close to me. I looked up just as Finn, in full battle uniform said, 'Lu, what's going on?'

“He was a fearsome sight. He had a brass breast plate, a red cape and crescent shield. His face was much stronger than I remembered it. He had a long wooden sword with obsidian shardes lined in a row down the side. He also had a steel javelin at his side.

'I've heard that things have changed around here since I left.' he said.

“I was about to respond when there was a crash and a scream from the house. Finn drew his javelin. His teeth were clenched and his eyes were furious. He began marching quickly to the house, but I ran ahead of him and put my hand on his wrist, bringing the javelin down.”

“Move it, Lu,” he said.
“Let me do it, I replied.” Lu paused and stared at the fire. He picked up a few stray pieces of bark and threw them into the fire. Honor's face was ashen and she stared at him. Jasters hands were together, his gaze in the fire.

“He gave me his javelin without a word. We marched up and threw open the door. Father had mother by the forearm and was twisting it back.

Finn said, “Father, stop.” He looked at us and let mother go. Then he... I still can't believe he did this, he slumped down to the floor and began sobbing. He said, 'just do it quickly son.' it took me a moment to realize that he was talking to me. I looked at the javelin in my hand. It's like I'd forgotten I was holding it. But I realized then that I had been clenching it tightly, holding it high in front of me, like this.” Lu held up the branch he'd been picking at. Then he threw it causually into the fire and said,

“I couldn't do it. He was so pathetic but I still loved him. It was so strange though. Mom was looking at me, scared to death, Finn was looking at me like he was deciding if I was strong enough. I found out later that they were both hoping I wouldn't kill him. Mom told me later that she was worried about what would happen to my soul, my character, who I was if I killed my own father. Finn didn't want me to do it because he, like me, still loved my father, although I don't know that he wouldn't have killed him if he'd had the javelin.”

“So I'm glad that I found another way...”

“What did you do?” honor asked.

“We put him in the dog run.”
“What?” honor said. Jaster laughed. Lu smiled.
“He was acting like a badly trained dog, so we treated him like one.” Lu said.
“So you made him live with the dogs?” honor said.
“Wait, wait,” Jaster said, “I think I know what you did. You and Finn had been taught by your father how to train the dogs, right?”

“Right. Father had an excellent and well designed system for creating perfectly obedient and well trained dogs..”
“So you trained your father?” Jaster slapped his knee and laughed.

“Exactly. After 6 weeks we could pour wine all over him and he wouldn't even dare lick his lips.”

“Did it involved a lot of punishment?” Honor said.

“Not as much as you might think. More so at the beginning. But you'd be amazed at what you can do with small rewards and full environmental control.”

“So what happened then?”

“Finn helped us for a while and we turned the business profitable again. Turns out that other breeders had got a hold of some superior breeds from Ohzarish. Finn was able to purchase a few of those and after 5 or 6 years the business was very profitable again. Dad sold it and retired to the city. Finn went back to the army and took me with him. And now about 10 years later I'm here, on a mountain hill overlooking the valleys surrounding Mountain Path.”

Polished Sword Part II

This is the second part of the Polished Sword. The first part is here:http://collinwriting.blogspot.com/2011/02/polished-sword.html

There is a gap between the first and the second posts that I haven't written yet. The old man from the first scene is going by the name of Jaster. The soldier is Lu. The scene is on a hill in a mountainous region at night and Jaster, Lu and Honor sit around a camp fire. Jaster tells a story.

… So I thought I'd tell you a bit about my background to break the ice, so to speak.”

“I always assumed you were the spirit of Corius, sent to help us when in need.” Lu said, half joking. Jaster laughed., but Honor and Lu looked at Jaster as if they both harbored a suspicion still.

“No, my story, though interest, I think, at least isn't quite that interesting. And I won't tell you everything about me, but ou might be interested in some of my background.

“Please tell us,” Honor prompted.

“well, um... ah. I'll start there. When I was a young man I lived with my family in a small valley not 30 miles from the coast. There was a medium sized port city there, and after I had reached that age that all youth eventually reach, I decided to leave my home and seek my fortune there.”

“What was the city called?” Lu asked.

“Kensington Port.” Jaster said.

“You mean Kenport? You call that a med-sized city? You must have seen some very large cities in your time.”

“Well, maybe my memory isn't what it used to be.. but nevermind... Kenport they call it now?

“since before I was born, I think”

“Well, in Kenport, I met with a merchantman who hired me to be a sailor on his ship. It was a trireme, usually powered by sail, but often by oar. It was exhausting work to pull that oar for hours at a time. I worked very hard, slept little and lived on chalk-like rye bread.”

“But I loved it! It was such an adventure to escape to the sea! I grew to love the solitude and the beauty of the sea and sky. And the ports we stopped at were amazing. There were so many in the east and even some far eastern places where the people spoke very odd languages and wore tattoos of animals on their bodies”

Honor thought of the tattoo of the Jaguar on her forearm and wondered...

“anyway, one night I was out alone, fishing. I was just letting a line over the (back of ship?) when well, I'd better explain some other things first.

“Sailors are notoriously superstitious. Now I'll be the first to admit that I'd dabbled in a little magic when I was little. But I was totally unprepared for all of the strange little rituals that the sailors had. Some believed that it was good luck to hold your breath turing the time between the strike of lightening and when you hear the thunder. Or they believed that by holding their breath, they actually pushed the lightening and the storm farther away.”

Lu interrupted, “It's not much different in the army. Before a battle there are tons of rituals, prayers and magic charms and stuff. People do that kind of thing more often in stressful situations. A charioteer I knew always spun in place 3 times before a race for luck. He also wore the same lucky scarf around his neck.”

“Exactly,” Jaster continued. “some sailors believed that on a calm, dark night, the spirit of Orkalis haunts the waters. It is bad luck they say to be alone on such a night.”

“Well I ignored their warnings because I'd grown up with different ideas. Anyway, it was about 1 in the morning and I was yawning. In fact, I must have fallen asleep on my feet because I remember coming to when I felt a tugging on my line. When my eyes cleared up I saw that it wasn't a fish on my line, but a woman! She was standing in the air, about 10 feet from the boat and was tugging on my line.”

“I thought I was dreaming and I probably was because like in a dream I knew things that I hadn't been told. The woman was dressed in tattered rags, but she had a beautiful crown with a ruby carved like a rose. She pointed to the other side of the boat and I knew that she wanted me to let my line out over the (starboard?) side.

I also knew that if I did so, I would be saving her somehow. She was in awful danger and I had to save her like she was my own daughter.

I rushed to the (starboard?) side and let my line down. Almost immediately I felt a tug again on my line. The woman was there again, about 10 feet away. She was smiling and I saw that her rags were slowly transforming into a glorious emerald gown. She grew bright and flew into the sky like a shooting star, but going up instead of down.

The line still felt heavy so I pulled it up. On the hook was a mass of sea weed and encrusted something. Barnacles on a rocky and metallic mass of some kind.

Some other sailors voices were getting closer. I was still kind of in a daze and barely noticed when one sailor asked me if I'd seen that bright shooting star.

For some reason I told him it was the Spirit of Orkalis and that this junk I'd fished up was her crown. Funny thing was, I knew it was true.

The next day, one of the sailors and I used oil and a knife to remove some of the encrusted crud and life off it. It was plain to everybody that this was the crown. The ruby rose shone like the light and there was a great commotion on the ship.

The captain was eventually involved. He explained to me that it wasn't proper for a simple sailor to take the credit and that a captain was much more suitable for receiving the reward that the Queen was sure to give. After all, he was young whereas I was...” Jaster paused.

“What?” Honor said?

“Well, we were both young...” Jaster looked confused for a moment. Honor and Lu looked at each other.

“anyway, he decided that he should present the crown to the Queen for reward. I was angry, as you can imagine, but he explained that if I was difficult that somebody would be one day fishing me out of the sea. Besides, he gave me a raise and a promotion to 3rd mate. I decided that I was lucky to get any consolation prize, so I promised to keep my mouth shut about it. Until tonight, of course. And you are the only two who have heard the whole story. Although I'm sure there's more to the story that I'll never know or that I've forgotten.”

“Being an officer had a lot of perks. I got better food and I didn't have to row anymore. I also earned the resentment of some of my fellow sailors who had been working, toiling for many years longer than me but without a promotion. When we arrived at a port called Kaladortia there was another of the Queen's merchant ships. I was able to get the captains of the two ships to agree to a transfer. I became 2nd mate on the new ship and my career in the queen's merchant navy was well on its way. Obviously my life took several turns after that, but you'll have to wait until the next starlit night to hear some of those stories.”

Use of Subplots

Use of subplots.
I think that the use of subplots could be an important factor in the success of a novel. I’ve divided subplots into two main categories. Traditional subplots and nested mini-subplots. All subplots, whether traditional or nested, have a beginning, middle, climax and resolution/denouement.
Traditional subplots begin at the beginning of the novel and end at about the end of the novel. The main plot often doesn’t depend on the traditional subplot, rather, it could stand totally on its own without it. The traditional subplot is usually just comic relief for the main plot or a romantic distraction or a fun mystery to distract you from the intense main adventure.
The nested subplot, however, happens completely within a short part of the novel. I divide nested subplots into two categories: injection mini-subplots and advancing mini-subplots.
Injection mini-subplots are just for injecting excitement into the story. They don’t necessarily advance the main plot (or even a traditional subplot) they are just to remind the reader that the bad guy is still out there and that the hero is good with the sword (or gun or debate skills or whatever). An example of an injection mini-subplot is when in a high fantasy like Wheel of Time trollocs attack Rand, the hero. It’s just for fun and to make the story more exciting. It doesn’t advance the main story much except to say that the bad guy is still after him. It begins with the problem (an attack) has some action (the middle) a big fight and a resolution when the trolloc’s blood is dripping down the sword. The end of the injection mini-subplot.
An advancing mini-subplot, however, actually advances the main plot. An example of this is in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. At one point, the deranged lunatic Sirius Black is seen attacking someone or something in Harry’s dorm room. Previously it had been established that Black is out to kill Harry. There’s two mysteries “how did he get through the password protected door?” and “why didn’t he kill Harry when he had the chance?” The first mystery is part of the subplot. Turns out that Neville Longbottom wrote down the password on a scrap of paper and then accidentally dropped it for Sirius to find. This is the subplot. Sirius disappears, but the other mystery remains. This is only answered at the end of the novel and is actually crucial to the main plot. This is one thing I think J K Rowling does very well. All of her subplots fit tightly with the main plot of the novel but also have their own beginning, middle, climax and resolution. Even comments by characters that seem to have nothing to do with the main plot often end up being important. J K Rowling is good at having a secondary reason for these comments so that they don’t just appear “thrown in there.” This is because the comment that seems relevant to an interesting subplot is simultaneously important for the main plot (though the reader does not yet know it).
When it comes to the success of a novel, I think that traditional subplots are often very helpful, but I think that nested mini-subplots are probably found in every single best-seller. I need to read more of those, but that is my guess.

The Polished Sword

This is a possible beginning to a new fantasy novel.

The Polished Sword

Honor's back was sore, her butt was raw and her teeth chattered each time the fierce wind blew down from the face of the mountain and down the steep, rocky road. Honor clung to the horse's back and then looked down the mountain where she saw those 4 men in red uniforms leading their horses over a snowbank. Honor moaned.

“Keep going girl,” Honor said, patting the mare. “It won't be long girl.”

But Honor didn't know where she was going. She regretted now choosing the road that went higher into the wintery mountain. She thought the soldiers would be discouraged. Ten of them have turned around. Only these four maniacs are still following me.

Honor thought back to the strange events of the night before. The bloody bodies, the accusations, the mysterious horse that was already saddled, reined and shod as if prepared for her. Honor pulled her thin robe closer across her shoulders and shivered again. Her cheeks were growing numb and her ears were white as the snow around her. She put her hands under her arm pits and felt ice on the side of her body. It felt good to her hands, but she shivered violently.

Looking back again, Honor saw that one man had stumbled. Or his horse had. Either way, only three remained. Honor looked ahead through the swirling snow and storm. The light of the sun was barely visible but it all seemed blue and gray. But then what was that yellow light? Was it her imagination? Whatever it was, it was gone. Honor looked back and saw two horsemen going back down the mountain. Only one left. He looked stocky with thick, taut arms and brown hair flapping around his face. Honor looked ahead.

The road became a narrow path and the rocks became loose and slippery. Honor's mare trudged around a narrow bend, almost slipping down the steep side. After the bend, the road widened again. Honor looked back. If she stayed here, she would catch the man and his horse broadside. Honor's fingers were clumsy as she tried to untie the rawhide ropes holding her saddle bag shut. She finally got it open and pulled out a long dart and a blow tube.

“Thank you Rose,” Honor thought and with a chuckle, “You said this could save me from a jealous suitor.”

Honor could hear cracking and thunking rocks; shifting and falling gravel. Honor saw the long face of the horse with its glinting brass cover. Honor hastily placed the dart in the blow tube and brought the tube to her mouth. Honor sucked up as much of the cold air as she could without coughing. The man looked up and his eyes went wide as Honor shot the dart into the flank of his horse. The horse reared and both man and horse fell down the side of the mountain.

The horse fell far. Honor smiled a flash of a smile and then grimaced. The loss of her pursuers didn't make her situation much less difficult. She pondered going back to town, but only saw her neck in a noose for doing so. She turned her horse back up the path, hoping that the legends were true: that the old god of the mountain, Corius, was a benevolent god. The horse began to plod onward again, but suddenly Honor pulled her to a stop. What was that? she thought. A voice?

Honor squinted down the mountain and saw a glint of red and brass between a scraggily gray tree. She could barely make out the word, “help.” Honor's stinging hands and ears as well as her gasping lungs begged her to forget about him. It's not my fault if he dies... Squaring her jaw, Honor turned back around and led her horse to that narrow bend. She put her hands in her armpits again for a moment and then opened her saddlebag again. Inside she found a long rope. She dismounted and tied the rope around the thick neck of her mare, using the rabbit-trap knot that Tiberius, (that simple helpful farm boy) had shown her. Honor tied the other end around her waist. She spelunked.

The rope wasn't long enough to get all the way to the tree. But Honor was close enough to see the man twisted in the branches of the tree. One leg was particularly twisted, but its twistedness had saved him from joining his horse's bones far below.

“Can you climb up to me?” Honor yelled down to him.

“No! It's too much... It hurts...”

“You have to try. Don't you want to live?” Honor saw the man's eyes narrow and he clenched his jaw. Grabbing onto a branch he screamed and ripped his twisted leg out of the branches it was folded up in. Using the branch and various rocks, the man hobbled on his good leg up the steep mountain. He reached Honor and tenderly, with frozen hands, limply grasped the rope around her midsection. Honor felt his fingers on her back and side like fresh fish shoved into her dress. As he shifted his weight from his good foot to his grip on the rope, Honor felt the rope becoming limp in her hands; her horse was slipping. Quickly Honor braced her feet on the mountainside, straining to hold herself and the soldier on her weary legs.

“My horse can't hold our combined weight,” she said to the man.

“Then leave me. I wouldn't make it very far anyway,” the man groaned.

Honor considered it.

“No. I will put it around you and the horse will pull you up. Then you will send the rope back down to me and I'll come up.”

“That's an awful lot of trust you have in a soldier that was recently seeking your life.”

“Corius will avenge me if you let me perish after saving yours!”

“I will send the rope back down to you.” Honor made to remove the rope from her midsection. But suddenly the rope became taut again and with almost violent force, Honor and the man were dragged up the mountainside. How did that tired horse get so much strength? Honor wondered. Maybe she was spooked by a rattle snake? No, a snake would not be out in this weather.

When Honor and the soldier crested the edge of the path, they saw Honor's mare and next to it a huge draft horse pulling the rope. A man with a long white beard was pulling on the reins of the draft. He looked down the path at the two. Honor saw the snowflakes, slightly whiter than his beard, clinging to his long hair. He approached them. Smiling at Honor, he gingerly, delicately, removed the soldier's bluish hands from the rope. He then picked up the man and threw him over his shoulders. Honor couldn't see how he did it; his arms were not very big.

After setting the soldier, stomach down, onto the draft, the man returned to Honor. She was shivering and exhausted. She felt tense shame when she said, “Will you take care of me?” and burst into tears.

“My dear, what do you think I am doing?”

“Don't give me to the soldiers!”

The man smiled as he lifted her. “I don't get along with the soldiers. You will be safe.” Honor wept like a little girl.

Sleepless in Texas

Well here I am, in Anna, Texas and fully awake at 2:08 A.M. I could say that my body is still used to Utah time and that's why am still awake, but if I were in Utah it would be 1:09 A.M.(took me a full minute to type that sentence) and that is not much better. For some reason or another I cannot seem to fall asleep, maybe it's because it's unfortunately hot here. Even when it rains it doesn't have that refreshing, mind numbing quality coldness that Utah rain has. I know that every state has its own unique weather, but I am only now appreciating Utah's uncanny ability to change temperatures so quickly. This appreciation has come from the realization that the temperature here never fluctuates more then 3 degrees, unless its 10 degrees hotter, but the rule seems to be that the temperature can only increase and not decrease. I believe I have now discovered why I am still awake. It's hot.

It could be that its hot or it may also have something to do with all the things on my mind. Enrolling in a new school and starting a new degree program that will not be cheap. Also my wife and I are both currently unemployed. We are not beggers on the streets by any strech, in fact I think its pretty impossible that we will become homeless. Of course now that I have said that its bound to happen somehow.

The people in Texas are very friendly, and if my wife and I were to end up without a home I am sure there would be plenty of people who would offer us a place to stay. People really try to live the Christian way out here and they talk about it on every radio station. Even with the wonderful in-laws and the true Christians all around, its hard to not feel a little bit alone in a new place.

I posted a new story

"Triumph of the Omega" is a 20 or so page story that I am working on that I need help with. I really like the story but it has hit a wall and I don't know where to go with it, so if anybody has any suggestions let me know. Go to the page on Tessa's wiki found on the link on the right. Then look at the recently edited pages on the right and you will see "Triumph of the Omega"
there. Thanks!

new blog now

This blog is the first step in beginning a publishing company. Bryninn Erickson and I decided that we wanted a blog where writers could get feedback on their writing, and eventually, if they don't get published elsewhere, we could publish them. It used to be called SEpublishing, but Bryninn didn't like that one, but since he didn't give me any other ideas, I just changed it to Collin's writing club. :) I'm sure it will change again in the future.

The goal is to get our work published and perhaps even make a profit doing so. I don't know how it will all work yet, but ideas are welcome.I'm thinking that one rule will be that before you can post a writing sample that you want feed back on, you must read a previous sample and give meaningful feedback.Also, it is my advice that no writer take any feedback seriously unless it is supported by 2 people. It is easy for a writer to become discouraged or torn in two or three directions, but if two or more reviewers agree on a criticism, then it is more likely a good idea.Also, Tessa set up a wiki at http://tessalrs.wiki.zoho.com/HomePage.html that we can use to post writing and comment on it. We could restrict the page so that only some people could view it or have it open to any viewers.