#aielund

New Post has been published on http://microcerpt.com/blog/2015/03/in-defence-of-the-crown-on-deck/

In Defence of the Crown - On Deck

Upon exiting the confines of the ship’s interior, Aiden was immediately welcomed by the fresh breeze, laden with the unique, salty tang of the sea. Despite his unsteadiness, Aiden realised the captain had been correct – the conditions were nearly perfect, and they couldn’t have asked for a better start to the short voyage.

The crew were kept busy managing the intimidating array of ropes and pulleys that held the sails in check, and didn’t pay much heed to the unsteady young man as he made his way out onto the deck. He took a firm hold of the mizzen mast, trying not to fall over as the ship swayed gently beneath his feet. For a solid five minutes he stood there, ostensibly to enjoy the air and the scenery. In reality, he was afraid of stumbling on the deck and appearing foolish before these seasoned sailors.

The helm was under the watchful eye of Lieutenant Masterson. Aiden’s attention, however, was caught by the two ballistae positioned on either side of the deck – massive, oversized crossbows that fired spear-like projectiles with tremendous force.

These were, in fact, the very weapons the crew of Redoubtable had used to engage the dragon over Culdeny, with remarkable results. Looking up at the countless yards of rope and sail, Aiden realised that if it had wanted to, the monster could have destroyed the ship with one blast of fire, and he knew the captain must have understood that too.

“Afternoon, Mister Wainwright,” a sailor remarked to him, appearing next to the young man as if by magic. Aiden recognised him as Woulfe, the man who had shown Pacian and himself to their cabin. He had slender features, though the dark stubble on his chin offset that, giving him a more rugged appearance. Sharp green eyes scrutinized the deck around him, and a bandana of cloth helped keep his wild dark hair in check. Like all the other sailors on board, he was wearing baggy trousers and a heavy brown tunic to ward off the chill.

“Shouldn’t you be saying ‘ahoy thar matey’, or some such?” Aiden replied with a half-smile on his face.

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you,” Woulfe replied laconically. “That’s all a bunch of heresay, actually. People talk the way they were raised, you know? Pleased to meet you. The name’s Ronan Woulfe.” Aiden shook his hand, being careful to steady himself with his other arm on the mast. “I noticed you admiring our ballista,” Ronan continued. “If you gotta take on a dragon, I can’t think of a better weapon.”

“More than that, it was accurate shooting, too,” Aiden complimented.

“Thanks.”

“You were the shooter?” Aiden asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Of the aft starboard station, yeah,” Ronan clarified. “The thing about dragons, is they’re big. Pretty hard to miss, really – all you gotta do is aim where they’re gonna be.”

“It’s still an impressive feat.”

“Woulfe, you’re not being paid to stand around chatting, get back to work this instant,” Lieutenant Masterson barked.

“Aye aye sir,” Ronan answered, still in the same laconic tone he’d used while talking to Aiden as if he wasn’t in a hurry, or being yelled at by an officer. The sailor leapt up the mizzen mast that Aiden was leaning against and scurried up the rigging, as the executive officer approached.

“Good afternoon, Mister Wainwright,” he greeted him. “Did you manage to get some rest?”

“Not as much as I would have liked,” Aiden sighed.

“Well, you’ll soon settle in, though I daresay you won’t be aboard long enough to get used to the motion of the ship.”

“A pity, I think I’m starting to understand the appeal of the sea,” Aiden mused, looking out over the expanse of blue water before him.

“As well you might,” Masterson replied, smiling for the first time since Aiden had met him. “I tell you, there’s nothing quite as soul-stirring as a sunrise on a clear morning at sea. The way the light filters through the fog in shafts of heavenly rays… it’s really quite breathtaking.”

“Sail ahoy!” a man yelled from the crow’s nest, high above the main deck on the tallest mast. Masterson, previously standing about in a casual manner, suddenly became alert.

“Where away?” he called back to the lookout.

“Port quarter aft, sir!” came the shouted response. Aiden looked in a random direction, unsure where he was referring to, while Masterson pulled out a small metal tube from his longcoat and strode over to the rail. Aiden promptly joined him, hoping nobody notied he had been looking in the wrong direction. Masterson had the metal tube up to his left eye, and Aiden realised it was aiding his vision.

“Is there a problem?” he asked the officer.

“Difficult to make out details at this distance, even with this useful contraption,” Masterson replied absently, “but she could be a merchantman out of Brigham, in the Rael islands. I doubt it would be an enemy vessel this far from Tulsonite waters, especially considering their recent defeat.”

“What about pirates?” Aiden asked, drawing a look of condescension from the officer.

“A pirate caravel is hardly going to be giving chase to a ship of His Majesty’s navy, Mister Wainwright,” he admonished. Aiden shrugged, feeling somewhat foolish, and resolved not to speak of naval matters again unless he really knew what he was talking about.

“So, what is your plan?” he asked of the young officer.

“Given the nature of our precious cargo, I’m not going to take any chances,” Masterson said. “I doubt we can outrun them in our current state, but should an opportunity arise in the next twelve hours to lose them in fog, I shall do so, just to be safe.”

See larger image

In Defence of the Crown (The Aielund Saga Book 2) (Kindle Edition)

By (author): Stephen L. Nowland

New Post has been published on http://microcerpt.com/blog/2015/03/nature-abhors-a-vacuum-a-desperate-duel/

Nature Abhors a Vacuum - A Desperate Duel

The sounds of a desperate struggle nearby finally snapped Aiden back to reality, and he spun around and rushed back up the corridor. He encountered a closed door which he slammed his shoulder into, splintering the lock and throwing the door wide open.

The room was simply a small guest chamber with a bed at one end, and a dresser and wardrobe opposite. His dramatic entrance hadn’t surprised the mercenary officer, who had an arm wrapped around the neck of a slender blonde girl, and a sword in his other hand. Aiden had never seen Princess Criosa Roebec in person, having only heard descriptions about her from time to time, but her fine features left no doubt he was looking upon royalty.

“Hold it right there, boy,” the mercenary ordered him, his voice sounding hollow and metallic behind his visored helm. “The lady and I are going to leave right now, and you and your mates are going to let it happen, understood?”

“What’s the matter, you afraid to fight a ‘boy’ like me?” Aiden chided, hoping to goad the warrior into a fight. “A real man wouldn’t be hiding behind a little girl, I think.”

“In any other situation, I’d be happy to oblige you,” the man growled, “but right now, I’ve got places to -”. His speech was cut off by a pain-filled shout. He flinched to one side, allowing Criosa to fall away revealing she had a bloodied piece of silverware in her hand.

The enraged officer swiped his mailed fist, sending her crashing into the wall and onto the ground, and swung his sword at Aiden in the same motion. He was prepared for this and managed to parry the blade, but was instantly on the defensive against the powerful warrior’s assault.

Sparks flew from his blade as he parried each attack from the mercenary, while trying not to be pushed back into a corner. He ducked underneath a wild swing from the officer and rushed around the side. Unfortunately, he met the warrior’s armoured knee with his chest, propelling him into the wall.

Discarding subtlety, Aiden picked himself up and lunged at the mercenary, crashing directly into him and bowling both of them over. Aiden slammed his sword hilt into the helmeted head with a resounding ‘clang’, but it seemed to have minimal impact.

The mercenary punched him in the gut and threw him to one side, sending Aiden’s sword skittering across the polished floorboards and under the bed. Adrenaline pumping, Aiden tried to scramble away from the warrior but one of his legs was held and he couldn’t get away. In desperation, he reached over his shoulder and grabbed the handle of his sceptre, pulling it out and swinging it at his opponent. The weapon impacted on top of his opponent’s head, connecting with his helm and leaving a sizeable dent in it.

The mercenary staggered backwards for a moment until he regained his footing, but it gave Aiden the precious time he needed to get back on his feet. Holding the sceptre before him, he spoke the arcane word of command and a brilliant shaft of light sprang forth, slicing the armour protecting the officer and burning the flesh underneath.

Roaring with pain, the mercenary charged, catching Aiden completely off guard. They crashed into the wardrobe, demolishing it and falling to the floor as both wrestled for supremacy. Aiden was momentarily winded, and tried to push the warrior out of the way but he was held fast by a gauntleted hand.

Panic started to set in as he was completely outmatched by this opponent, so Aiden started swinging the sceptre wildly, hoping to do enough damage to finish off his implacable foe.

Aiden was in mid-swing when the mercenary suddenly stiffened, giving him hope that he’d actually done some damage to the warrior. Aiden watched in disbelief as the mercenary suddenly dropped to the ground, revealing the rather battered form of Criosa standing behind him with a sharp carving knife in one hand.

Aiden leaned back against the wall and slid to the ground, his breath coming in short gasps as he was flooded with relief. Out in the hallway, he could hear the sounds of battle dying down, and he could only hope his companions had managed to survive.

He sat there, exhausted, looking up at the young lady who was trembling like a leaf. She dropped the small knife which clattered off the breastplate of their fallen enemy. The bodice of her elegant blue dress was torn, and the skirt was in tatters. Her silky blond, shoulder-length hair was unkempt and matted with blood.

See larger image

Nature Abhors a Vacuum (The Aielund Saga Book 1) (Kindle Edition)

By (author): Stephen L. Nowland

New Post has been published on http://microcerpt.com/blog/2015/02/an-unpleasant-conversation/

An unpleasant conversation

Everything went black as Pacian felt something pulled over his head. He reacted immediately, trying to reach up and rip off whatever was blocking his vision but his wrists were grabbed by powerful hands and wrenched behind his back.

Pacian thrashed around as he felt himself being dragged along. He managed to kick one of his assailants squarely in the squishy bit and received a heavy blow to the stomach for his trouble. Pace doubled over, wheezing for each breath. He lost track of time as his captors took him through the maze of backstreets. He was dragged through a doorway, which slammed shut behind him.

The burlap sack that had obscured his vision came off and he blinked the dust out of his eyes. A single candle provided light, creating vast shadows which loomed over the wooden walls. Pacian looked upon a small, almost empty room, with a single piece of furniture.

A plain wooden chair seated a familiar looking man with a neatly trimmed grey beard, wearing a white robe with the hood pulled up to partially obscure his face. The distinctive glint of metal armour was visible underneath the robe, and a large sword was attached to his belt.

“Archon Cain,” Pacian muttered, recalling the inquisitor he had held a knife to less than two weeks ago, in the heart of the Church. He was in more trouble than he thought.

“We meet again, Mister Savidge,” confirmed the inquisitor, his hands folded calmly in his lap. “I apologise for the rough handling, but after our last encounter, I felt it wise to take certain precautions. Rest assured these two gentlemen are professionals, and will not harm you further unless you give them reason to.”

“They look like fine, upstanding church folk to me,” Pacian drawled.

“I sense a healthy dose of sarcasm there,” Cain remarked with a thin smile. “Understand that the Church does not typically employ such people, except in special cases the Inquisition deems appropriate. As wardens of the faith, we are afforded greater latitude to achieve our goals.”

“What are your goals, anyway? Going to beat me up for threatening you?”

“Yes, but that is not my primary concern,” the archon explained. “Considering the nature of your involvement with Nellise, I made sure to keep an eye on events taking place in Stonegaard of late.”

“You were spying on us?” Pacian growled, giving up his attempts to break free of the two thugs.

“On Nellise, specifically, yes,” Cain responded. “The information I received indicates she is continuing to flaunt her position betwixt soldier of the Kingdom and representative of the faith, and it appears she has no intention of choosing one or the other. So, it would seem I must choose for her.”

“She’s not hurting anyone. Why can’t you just leave her be?” Pacian protested.

“Word of her exploits is beginning to circulate,” Cain explained, his tone conveying some degree of tension. “There are many influential people in Fairloch who would use her as a reason to further restrict the role of the Church, even more than we already are. Words such as ‘zealot’ and ‘militant’ are being bandied about, reminding people of the dark times in the Church’s past. I will speak this plainly so even you can understand – she cannot continue to represent the faith in her current capacity, plenipotentiary powers or not.”

“I don’t know what that word means, but if you ask me, she’s the best bloody representative you’ve ever had,” Pacian sneered. Cain didn’t respond, except to glance at one of the men holding Pace. The thug punched him in the gut, doubling him over in pain.

“I am not here to debate the issue with you,” Cain drawled dismissively as Pacian struggled for breath. “More of my associates will meet me near the Fair Maiden Inn, where I shall persuade her to seek the restorative environment of the Keepers of the Light. There, away from dark influences such as yourself, she will find her true path.” Pacian recalled his brief time at the monastery in the mountains, filled with ‘reformed’ criminals and the like and knew Nellise did not belong there.

“If you try to force her, you’ll have to get through Val and Sayana first,” Pacian rasped.

“Yes I’ve heard of their prowess,” Cain replied. “An akoran barbarian and a genuine sorceress, who apparently defeated an insurgent army practically single-handed. I’m afraid I’ll have to take her in as well, for entirely different reasons. Clearly, the wizards who recently examined her grossly underestimated her capabilities, so she too must be brought into the fold to ensure she doesn’t turn into some kind of rampaging monster.”

“You might find that more difficult than you imagine,” Pacian assured him.

“We are well-versed in dealing with heretic sorcerers, Mister Savidge,” Cain retorted. “And if she chooses to fight, she merely damns herself further.”

“Do you think this bunch of idiots is going to stop her?” Pacian scoffed, earning him another punch to the gut for his trouble.

“I am more than capable of neutralising her powers for a brief time, rendering her little more than a small girl with an attitude problem. My associates will have no problem dealing with all three of them and need not involve the Church with this sordid business.”

“So… you’re the only one that knows all of this?” Pacian asked, struggling to get the words out.

“For now,” Cain nodded, standing up. “I like to be discreet in all matters, for the public good. Now, I’m afraid our little chat is at an end. My friends will see to your every comfort – or lack thereof – while I set to my task. Think of this as absolution for your past crimes, Pacian. When it is done, do not think of striking back at myself or the Church, or even the duke won’t be able to save you.”

Cain walked to the door and opened it up, giving Pacian a brief glimpse of a dark alleyway somewhere in the city before it closed behind the inquisitor. He was then dragged over to the chair and ‘invited to sit down’ by his two hosts and their large fists. His arms were held behind him and it appeared they wanted to tie him to the chair for the coming entertainment.

See larger image

Ruins of legend (The Aielund Saga Book 3) (Kindle Edition)

By (author): Stephen L. Nowland

New Post has been published on http://microcerpt.com/blog/2015/01/nature-abhors-a-vacuum-confrontation/

Nature Abhors a Vacuum - Confrontation

Without another word, Aiden ushered the others from the office and outside into the ceaseless rain. Colt’s mouth was open to speak before the door had closed.

“So this is what you do for a living?” he snarled at Pacian. “Blackmailing people? If this was your plan you might have let us in on it, before we went in there. I’m in half a mind to go grab a hammer and get creative all over your face.”

“That was most certainly not the right way to handle this situation,” Nellise scolded. There was something about seeing her beautiful face looking so disappointed that didn’t sit right with Aiden. He felt ashamed, even if it wasn’t his fault. “Going to the head of the town guards and presenting this information would have been my preference, if you had bothered to ask me. I don’t like being associated with common criminals.”

“Criminal? Me?” Pacian practically shouted back, prompting glances from people passing by in the street. “That man in there was responsible for multiple counts of extortion, not to mention hiring people to commit murder. If you brought the town guards in on this, what do you think would have happened? Justice for all, and the town freed from the clutches of a criminal mastermind? Not bloody likely. It would have created a huge mess, with us right in the middle of it. Like it or not, we were used to eliminate one of Olaf’s ‘problems’, and we would most likely have been detained as well.”

“He didn’t hire us to go and kill Merin, as such,” Aiden pointed out in a hushed voice, glancing around in case anyone passing by might overhear their conversation. “I might be splitting hairs here, but I don’t think we’d be in as much trouble as you suspect.”

“You can’t know that,” Pacian contested. “We have no idea how the guards in this town were going to react and we’re not exactly well known around here. I suspect Colt here has a bit of a record with the militia, and Nellise might have been allowed to go free, because that happens to pretty women. But you and me Aiden? We’d be in irons, and how does that help the town?”

“Look, this way we keep his secret, he keeps our secret, we both keep an eye on each other, and we have money to feed ourselves with and then some. So what if he’s forcing us to do a few jobs, I mean, we get to leave, right? Nellise, we can use this money to help get this place moving again. Who cares how I got it?” The acolyte silently considered Pacian’s words. Aiden was more vocal with his opinion.

“You better hope he doesn’t just turn us into the guards when we’re not looking, Pace,” he warned ominously. “When all’s said and done, he’s still the Mayor, and we’re a bunch of nobodies.”

“I can’t discount the possibility,” Pacian conceded. “But if we make it to Highmarch and get those supplies the town needs, I reckon he’d be a fool to try anything against us. We’ll be heroes!”

Aiden shook his head, hardly believing the elaborate plan. It was a gamble, but it might just work. Pace had always pushed the limits of what civilised folk would tolerate, but Aiden had never considered him a criminal, even if he did know how to pick a lock and steal a coin pouch.

“That’s a good point, though I find I’m profoundly disturbed by the way your mind works,” Aiden finally said. “Do you two have anything else to add?”

“Only that I feel as though I have fallen in with bad people,” Nellise lamented. “I find your methods deplorable, even if your intentions were honourable. Regardless of what else I may feel, we still need to help the town, and we can’t do that from prison. You win, Pacian, but don’t think you’ve heard the last of this.” Pace had the good grace to look ashamed, though Aiden couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or not. Turning to Colt for his answer, Pacian was suddenly grabbed by the front of his tunic and pulled up to face level with the big man.

“The next time you pull a stunt like that on me, I’m gonna take you someplace quiet and beat you senseless. I’m not a crook, and I don’t hang around with crooks. Do you wanna know what I do with crooks?”

“You beat them senseless?” Pacian’s inquired, his face betraying his apprehension.

“I sure do, blondie,” Colt nodded. “Then I hand them over to the guards. They don’t ask how the crooks got so bloodied – they figure they’re just real clumsy and ran into a wall a couple dozen times. My point is, watch how you handle yourself, or you’ll answer to me.” Pacian nodded slowly, and Colt lowered him back down to the ground. “Oh, one last thing. Hand over the coins.”

“Why?” Pacian asked cautiously.

New Post has been published on http://microcerpt.com/blog/2014/12/nature-abhors-a-vacuum-chapter-one-out-of-beer/

Nature Abhors a Vacuum, Chapter One - Out of Beer

He was nearing the end of his meal when a man strode up next to him at the counter and slammed down a large wooden mug. The smell of stale beer and body odour washed over Aiden, making him glad he was just about to finish eating.

“Beer me,” the man said in a low, gruff voice. The innkeeper strode over to the counter from where he was preparing some food and looked the newcomer straight in the eye.

“Alright, but this is the last one, Colt.”

“It’s the last one when I say it’s the last one,” the gruff man explained. “Now fill ‘er up.” The innkeeper shook his head, but proceeded to fill the mug from a tap behind the counter.

“A little early in the morning to be drinking, isn’t it?” Nellise asked of the man called Colt.

“Since I never slept, I don’t think it matters,” he grunted in reply.

“You can’t just hide from your problems like this,” she counselled, her voice conveying genuine concern. Colt’s face, which had the sluggish, unfocused look of the professional drinker, suddenly focused on Nellise with alarming clarity.

“You think I like sitting around in this bloody inn getting drunk off my ass? It’s not like there’s anything else to do.” He quaffed his mug of beer quickly and slammed it down on the counter. “Another!”

“I told you, that was the last one,” the innkeeper reminded him, his stern face hinting he was not going to relent so easily this time. Sensing a potential fight, Aiden quickly sized-up Colt. He was a heavy-set man, just over six feet in height, with a considerable build that gave Aiden pause.

The innkeeper, however, didn’t seem to be fazed by Colt’s aggressive attitude. He may have been past forty years of age and carrying a lot of extra weight, but didn’t show any fear of a rowdy drunkard in his bar. Aiden hoped his confidence wasn’t misplaced, for he guessed Colt could probably make an innkeeper-skinned rug from the old fellow if he really wanted.

“Don’t start holding back on me now, mate,” Colt growled. “I’ve still got a ways to go before the room starts spinning. So keep ‘em coming, I say.”

“No, you don’t seem to get it,” the innkeeper informed him patiently, leaning forward over the bar which creaked under his weight. “I’m not holding back ’cause I think you’re getting drunk.” In one movement he hefted a keg onto the counter and pried open the top. “I told you it was the last one. As in, we’re out of beer.”

Colt’s eyes, which had been narrowed with terrible focus on the obstacle between him and drunken oblivion, suddenly grew wide with understanding. He leaned forward and looked into the keg, then back at the innkeeper.

New Post has been published on http://microcerpt.com/blog/2014/12/nature-abhors-a-vacuum-a-taste-of-chapter-one/

Nature Abhors a Vacuum - A taste of Chapter One

Aiden took the stairs down the hallway which led to the common room of the Bracksfordshire Arms Inn, the comfortable and more importantly affordable inn where the two friends had been stuck for over two weeks. Although accustomed to inclement weather in winter, the rain had been steady and unrelenting for as long as they’d been here.

When he and Pacian had shown up at the town gates, soaking wet and seeking shelter, they hadn’t realised that the entire town was about to be sealed by order of the Mayor, effectively ending their little expedition from Coldstream shortly after it had begun.

Answers to the inevitable questions such as ‘Why?’ and ‘Are you mad?’ were not forthcoming, save the Mayor deemed such measures necessary. There was a rumour going around, as they do in small towns, that bandits were killing anyone unfortunate enough to wander outside the town gates. Nobody had yet confirmed this of course, leaving the population of sixty or so villagers in a state of perpetual anxiety.

In spite of the early hour, the common room had its share of patrons, sitting around in comfortable overstuffed chairs illuminated by flickering lamplight. Bracksfordshire was a farming community spanning over a hundred square miles, with many small towns and hamlets dotted around the place. Even if there was little work to be done in the fields, farmers were in the habit of rising early and Aiden recognised several people sitting around the common room, people he’d come to know quite well, as one does in a small town with nowhere to go.

There was Jim Clifton, a wheat farmer of advancing years who grumbled to anyone within earshot about the loss of his crops. It was hard to avoid a conversation with the man, given the tight quarters and as such, Aiden knew more about wheat farming than any one man should. Laura Patel, a charming young lady more suited to a thriving city than a simple country life ran a clothing store across the street and had done a brisk business in cloaks and longcoats at the start of the bad weather. Her stock was now depleted and with the town closed off, was unable to bring in more.

Along with a few other farmers and shop owners, these people were huddled around the fire for warmth and to dry their clothes from the dash through the rain to reach the inn. The musty smell of wet clothing and damp skin was ever-present, although the innkeeper apparently had the brilliant idea of attempting to mask the odour by burning scented candles at the bar.

Aiden nodded in silent greeting to some of the locals as he passed the fireplace on his way to the counter. The inn was by far the largest building in town, and featured the finest appointments present in the small community. Bracksford was built on a major highway between the port city of Culdeny to the north and Fort Highmarch to the south, so traders always stopped by for at least a few days to sell their wares to the locals, but this time their stay was much longer than they’d bargained for.

“Mornin’ Aiden,” said the burly innkeeper as Aiden pulled up a stool. His thick beard was iron grey and did a fine job of disguising his heavy jowls. “You’re up early today.”

“I’m just too tired to sleep, if that makes any sense,” the young man mumbled.

The innkeeper chuckled while wiping down the counter with a cloth. “I think everyone in this room knows what you mean. Well, except her maybe.” He nodded to a young woman of incredible beauty sitting at the other end of the bar, warming her hands on a steaming cup of broth. Aiden had seen her around the inn before, but never had the courage to speak to her.

She had long, flowing hair that seemed to be blonde, but was so pale as to be almost white. Her delicate features were matched by her graceful movements – the way she blew on the hot cup of liquid to cool it, the thoughtful expression that crossed her face as she pondered what Aiden guessed were ‘deep thoughts’, and the way she smiled at him when it became obvious she was being stared at by a young man of about Aiden’s age, height, and appearance.

Aiden snapped his head straight back to the innkeeper, suddenly aware that he had been gazing at her again. The innkeeper grinned at him, but tastefully refrained from commenting. Instead, he offered to provide breakfast.

See larger image

Nature Abhors a Vacuum (The Aielund Saga Book 1) (Kindle Edition)

By (author): Stephen L. Nowland