Posted by: wrmcnutt | May 29, 2009

Not Fiction Friday – Not Promise of Power, Chapter 5

Welcome to Fiction Friday, when I attempt to force myself to finish my novel, by exposing you to one chapter a week. Hopefully, you’ll help inspire me to get the remaining chapters finished.  On review, this material is a little steamier than I remember, so be aware that it’s aimed at the 14 – 17  crowd and that it’s only had a single edit. Think “Conan Meets Harry Potter – And Then Takes Hermonie Off For A Weekend In London.”  I was afraid of getting trapped in endlessly re-writing the first chapters, and wanted a completed work before I went back to edit. So you’re getting my juvenile prose raw.


Well, it’s bad news.  Sorry, but when I opened chapter five of what I thought was my pre-written material, I found a note from myself that said, “put chapter five here.”  So I’ve got nothing for you this week. 

Um . . . Ooops.

I guess I need to start writing new material.  I could have sworn that I’d written this.  The pictures are all in my head.  I suspect I’ve mis-laid a file.  The good news is that I’ve checked chapters Six and Seven, and they are right where they are supposed to be.

Soooooo – I’ll start banging out 5000 – 7000 words for you guys for next Friday.  In the meantime, I will attempt to appease you with this, from my SCA stories list:

It has been some years past and gone now, and winter was upon the land.  The trees were bare and only brown grasses still stood, forlorn in the fields that had been so green.  As is the custom in the Barony of Thor’s Mountain, in the laurel kingdom of Meridies, the warriors were called together, that a Warlord might be selected to command the troops during the coming war season.
    As is his duty, the outgoing Warlord set the time and place of the tournament.  Then, in a sudden burst of madness, decreed that the tournament would be fought as in a round-robin, the victor to be whoever defeated all of his opponents IN SUCCESSION.
    A full thirteen men stood upon the field that day!  Think, gentles, of the mighty knights you know.  Of the Dukes and Princes.  How many, of even THAT exalted rank could stand victorious over twelved bouts, one after another, uninterrupted, and with little time to rest.  There are some few.  Some VERY few.
    And so the day ground on.  Time and again would an older, more experienced warrior work up four… five… six victories, and the populace would begin to hope.  Then some ambitious young turk would strike him down in his weariness.
    Then, as the sky began to turn crimson and gold with the sunset, and the chill evening wind began to blow, a young squire, Christopher Goldmunson by name, showed great promise.  At six victories, he stood strong, and looked to have a chance, when, fresh from no less than an hour’s rest, rose Eochar D’alain.  His armour was made up of worn and battered cast-offs, barely covered by a threadbare tabard.  His shield was the size of a Trimaran war-elephant, while poor Christopher was fighting two-stick.  Eochar grimly pulled on his ugly, 20-year-old helm and strode out upon the field.
    “You,” he cried, to the surprise of the populace, who had heard no word spoken for hours, other than the hoarse croaking of the marshalls, “You!  Are you loyal to the Baroness, and the cause of Thor’s Mountain?”
    Startled, Goldmunson replied, “For all my life.”  (A moving aside:  he’s a young fella, and born and raised here, son to Sir Goldman, also a native.)
    “And,” Eochar continued, pointing his battered blade at his opponent, “upon your oath, will you serve the Baroness loyally, in war and in peace, with all your strength and to the best of your ability?”
    “I will.”
    Eochar dropped his sword point to the ground and let his might shield dangle wearily.
    “Then I have no quarrel with you.  My lord Marshal, I yeild my cause to young Goldmunson.”
    Goldmunson went on to win, and serve ably as our Warlord for his term of office.

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  1. havn’t seen Chris (think he goes by Cauis now) in a few years………had forgotten that tourney.

    Were you there the day Jimmy beat the Queen?, I would love to hear your story for that, I have a photo I could send for attachment 🙂
    It was a Silverhammer, he had just been squired by Goldman

    • I’m sorry, but I wasn’t there to see it. I’d have to have somebody Tell Me How It Happened before I could spin it.

  2. oh, and sorry for your lost material, maybe its a blessing, the re-write could cure the blockyou have for future chapters!

  3. Maddog or Goldman would do the story more justice than I could, but they had to advise him to restrain his happiness, he was like a kid at the fair, jumping for joy before she could even call the shot, its a great picture, it was a great day

  4. I was just thinking “hey, it’s FRIDAY, go check the blog”


    good story. but still…’s not the continuing adventures of Alex.

    looking forward to dinner tomorrow and a new chapter five next week

    • You took that a lot better than I expected.

  5. well I was already feeling under the weather, so my response was a bit muted.

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