Brant/Brenwyr/a snippet
Did I ever say that Lord Brandan and his sister Brenwyr were twins? That seems to be a recurrant theme, but I can't remember if I was explicit here.
Speaking of twins, something new from Novel 11:
Prologue
The Riverland: Winter 24 - 25
I
The room was dark and stiflingly hot. Sage burned on the hearth, but failed to cover an underlaying stench that caught at the throat and made eyes water, unless those were tears. Flickering shafts of torchlight edged between the drawn curtains and streaked the walls, almost but not quite cutting through the miasma. From outside rose a muffled chant, one word repeated over and over, punctuated by the clash of weapons and of pots and pans:
“Wake, wake, wake…”
In the room was a bed. On it lay two figures, one bending over the other, who did not stir.
“Wake, wake,” the former murmured in the latter’s ear. “They call to you. So do I. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave.”
And he shook the slumped shoulder.
The second form sunk farther into the disordered covers, emitting gas in a subterranean groan:
… let me go …
“I won’t, I won’t, I won’t.”
“Wake, wake, WAKE!” cried those outside, to a final, cataclysmic crash.
II
Torisen woke with a gasp. His tower room at Gothregor was quiet except for sentries on the outer wall calling out the last watch of the night before dawn. His Kendar servant Burr snored at the foot of his bed, grumbled, and turned over without waking. Had he also been touched by the dream, if that was what it had been? More likely, he had felt his lord stir but had sensed no urgency.
Torisen believed differently.
Pushing back the blankets, careful not to disturb Burr again, he rose and went to the open window. The breath of early winter entered it, cool on his bare skin. Below lay the inner ward’s vegetable garden, in deep shadow for it was the dark of the moon. Everything there had already been harvested, if not yet consumed. He had yet to hear from his war-leader Harn or his sister Jame in High Bashti if King Mordaunt meant to supply them over the winter in payment for the Knorth’s service as mercenaries over the past season. To be fair, he hadn’t written to Jame or Harn recently either. They must wonder what was going on.
He also wondered.
Something was wrong in the Riverland
Speaking of twins, something new from Novel 11:
Prologue
The Riverland: Winter 24 - 25
I
The room was dark and stiflingly hot. Sage burned on the hearth, but failed to cover an underlaying stench that caught at the throat and made eyes water, unless those were tears. Flickering shafts of torchlight edged between the drawn curtains and streaked the walls, almost but not quite cutting through the miasma. From outside rose a muffled chant, one word repeated over and over, punctuated by the clash of weapons and of pots and pans:
“Wake, wake, wake…”
In the room was a bed. On it lay two figures, one bending over the other, who did not stir.
“Wake, wake,” the former murmured in the latter’s ear. “They call to you. So do I. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave.”
And he shook the slumped shoulder.
The second form sunk farther into the disordered covers, emitting gas in a subterranean groan:
… let me go …
“I won’t, I won’t, I won’t.”
“Wake, wake, WAKE!” cried those outside, to a final, cataclysmic crash.
II
Torisen woke with a gasp. His tower room at Gothregor was quiet except for sentries on the outer wall calling out the last watch of the night before dawn. His Kendar servant Burr snored at the foot of his bed, grumbled, and turned over without waking. Had he also been touched by the dream, if that was what it had been? More likely, he had felt his lord stir but had sensed no urgency.
Torisen believed differently.
Pushing back the blankets, careful not to disturb Burr again, he rose and went to the open window. The breath of early winter entered it, cool on his bare skin. Below lay the inner ward’s vegetable garden, in deep shadow for it was the dark of the moon. Everything there had already been harvested, if not yet consumed. He had yet to hear from his war-leader Harn or his sister Jame in High Bashti if King Mordaunt meant to supply them over the winter in payment for the Knorth’s service as mercenaries over the past season. To be fair, he hadn’t written to Jame or Harn recently either. They must wonder what was going on.
He also wondered.
Something was wrong in the Riverland