Fantasy fiction - Writers Forum

Svalbard · 05-11-2007, 05:04 PM

This is the first chapter of book 2 in a fantasy series I am writing. I am in the process of editing book 1, a far less joyful experiance than the writing of it. Any feedback would be appreciated.

CHAPTER 1
FACTIONS

Nanter 1082VP

The cold winds of winter assaulted the city of Nanter with out mercy. People, heavily clothed, went about their business with surly faces. The worst winter in fifty years, they said. And in truth they were not wrong. Savage storms lashed the seas closing the sea routes to all but the most daring of captains. Further inland heavy snows fell making travel dangerous and in some areas impossible. In the more remote parts of the land people began to freeze and starve until death took them. It was proof to those who contemplated it that nature when it wanted was the most destructive force known to man.
“I build roads and schools. Hospitals for my people and yet one ferocious winter like this and it is not enough,” Ranald said to Rolf who was seated close to a roaring fire cradling a goblet of mulled wine in his hands.
Rolf was frozen to the bone and felt that he would never get heat back into his blood again. He had ridden hard from his lands in Sharl to bring Ranald the news he had received from Kalnordia. What he had seen on the journey had chilled him as much as the freezing temperatures. Villages were devoid of life their inhabitants either dead in their homes or fled to the illusionary safety of the cities. In his lifetime he had never witnessed anything like it. Even the occasional outbreaks of plague had ceased to be a problem due to Ranald’s public health works.
Ranald sighed and looked at Rolf with concern. The son of his father’s sister Rolf was one of Ranald’s loyalist and most able lords.
“I have had your apartments prepared and they will be well heated when you retire but before you do that you must tell me once again the news you have had from the north,” Ranald said.
Rolf took a long draught from his goblet appreciating the quality of the wine. The King of himself did not like wine but that did not mean that he stinted on the quality of his cellar.
“A merchant came to my hall begging an audience with me. Since I knew the man of old, a southerner by the name of Loyola, I granted the request. He was in a terrible condition all frostbitten with his clothes in rags. He said that he had travelled from Kalnordia braving the winter storms to escape the madness of Helgi’s rule,” Rolf paused to take a sip from his goblet.
Ranald stared at him intently.
“This Loyola is he trustworthy?” Ranald asked.
“As much as any other merchant. But he has built a reputation as an honest broker over the years so I have no reason to doubt his words,” Rolf replied.
Ranald took a chair near the fire and listened to the remainder of Rolf’s tale with a growing anger. Anger at his own stupidity in believing he could send a man of Sitric’s rank north as an assassin and believe that it could work. Well Sitric was dead, killed if the merchant was to be believed by Helgi in single combat and Helgi had also sworn to send out his fleets to raid Janter come the spring.
“Is it true, sire, was Sitric working for you in the north?” Rolf asked at the end of his tale.
“Aye,” Ranald replied slowly. “And I sent him to his death. How could I have thought that it would work? Far better if I had never done it. Sitric was a fine man and deserved better from me.”
Rolf had no reply to that. He stood up his joints aching. At thirty-five he was getting far too old for these mad winter rides.
“Sire, if I may…”
“Of course. Please retire. I shall see you on the morrow. When you leave you might notice Master Dal skulking outside. Send him into me,” Ranald said.
Rolf gave a slight bow and walked stiffly out. The King leant back in his chair and closed his eyes lost for a moment in memory.
Ranald was standing on the beach at Cebran. He was sixteen years old and frightened. A strong wind was blowing in off the sea as he looked across at the flat lands that stretched before him. Riders were coming across the plain, armoured knights flying colourful banners. At his side stood Ragnar ‘Toothless’ looking like some hero from the ancient past so old was his armour. Further ahead on the beach walked a giant of a warrior, swinging a huge double-bladed battle-axe in his hand. The warrior was walking towards the oncoming knights. Behind him stalked a fierce band of Kalnordian warriors.
“What is he doing,” Ranald asked of Ragnar.
“Sitric is winning you a kingdom……..
“Sire, you asked for me,” Dal’s voice floated to Ranald through his memories.
Ranald opened his eyes.
“Ahh there you are. Sit down Dal and warm your self by the fire,” Ranald said.
“I could have done that in the comfort of my own chambers,” the old counsellor grumbled taking a seat. Dal’s words brought a weak smile to Ranald’s face.
“Bad news I take it,” Dal said.
“Sitric is dead and I am at war with Kalnordia,” Ranald replied simply.
Dal nodded his head at the news.
“I need your advice, old friend. My blood calls for vengeance against Ralt but to do this I cannot afford a war against the north. I will need my fleets to blockade the city of Ralt. The death of Thrand must be answered in like. But if Helgi sends his ships south then we will see something that has not happened for a hundred years. Kalnordian reavers pillaging the coasts of Janter!” Ranald said the frustration clear in his voice.
Dal stared into the fire.
“You have the answer to one of your problems here at court,” Dal said.
“Einvarr is not ready,” Ranald replied.
“Regardless you must send him north. Men will rally to him. So north he must go but not alone…” Dal said leaving his sentence unfinished.
“Not alone. Of course he will have men and coin as much as I can spare,” Ranald said resigned to the fact that he must do as Dal said on this issue.
“Yes, yes all these you will give him but Ragnar must also go with him,” Dal said and seeing Ranald’s consternation he went on quickly.
“Ragnar is a legend in Kalnordia. His mere presence with Einvarr will draw many away from Helgi,” Dal said.
Ranald sat quietly for a while considering Dal’s words. His mind drifted back to that fateful day on the beach at Cebran where he had set out to win back the throne of Janter. Another man had stood with him there, Kali Swegnsson, the father of Einvarr. He was also dead killed by the traitor Helgi and his shade would be crying out for revenge. All debts would be paid, thought Ranald.
“It will be done as you say, Dal.”
The seer looked at his king and thought of the coming year ahead. Storm clouds were gathering and he would have a need to divine their meaning.

Not far from where Ranald and Dal spoke another gathering was taking place. Standing out on the balcony of his own rooms, Caric contemplated his return to the palace. The wind buffeted him but he did not feel the cold. He wore a cloak of fox furs which shrouded his body. Caric turned from looking down at the city to listen to the loud voices coming from his drawing room. Peering through the window of the door he watched as his young cousins Marcus and Flavius tried manfully to keep up with Joachim Foltrim and Kalter Maye, as they swilled tankard after tankard of dark Keldian ale. Herk and Dagal stood at the door of his bedchamber in quiet conversation and another youth Brand Aggerston sat watching the drinking binge with an amused look on his face. It was the presence of Brand that was puzzling Caric. The last time he had met the youth, he had just arrived from Parad to take up a position as a page in the royal court. That was two years before and in that time Brand had become fast friends with Marcus. From the moment Caric had arrived back at the palace Brand had made a point of attaching himself to Caric’s small entourage.
And that was what this little group was, his entourage, the following of a prince of the blood. Caric had soon realised that when his father had ordered him to return to Nanter that he would need to build a group of followers. A group who would act as his voice in the cynical and dangerous halls of the court. Dolfin had plenty of friends at court and Caric was not so naïve that he did not think that his brother would have them acting against him. His eyes moved to Kalter Maye, the eldest in his group and the most dangerous. The man was dying; you could see it in his sunken eyes and ravaged face. As a result he feared nothing and in that brief ride to Castle Hes, Caric had struck up an unlikely friendship with him.
It was Kalter Maye who had said that he would go to Nanter with Caric as he had a hankering to taste the delights of the city. Joachim, upon hearing Kalter Maye’s decision decided to also join Caric at court. He had discharged his duty at Castle Hes and had no liking to wintering at his father’s castle on the desolate moors of Sharl. The ride through the streets of Nanter to the palace had been a revelation to Caric. He was famous! Word had spread that Prince Caric was returning, the Hero of Catar and the streets were soon thronged with people who roared out his name. Their darling Prince Thrand was dead but now they had a new talisman, another dashing prince.
Caric remembered turning to Joachim Foltrim with a wide smile on his face.
“Think of it Foltrim! Think of the women that will be throwing themselves at us!” he had said.
“Why do you think Maye came along. But look at that crowd, Caric, they love you,” Foltrim had replied. Then he had said a strange thing.
“A dangerous thing, Caric, the love of the commons, be careful,” Foltrim had warned.
The wind howled and Caric decided it was time to rejoin his friends. Opening the door he entered the warmth of the room to hear loud laughter and coarse shouts.

Cefor · 05-12-2007, 05:27 AM

To be honest there are too many names to get to grip with.... you introduce so many too fast. And that last paragraph I practically skipped it all.

Maybe try and use less names and it would be better, or maybe less at once. ok?

Cefor

Valzar · 05-12-2007, 02:02 PM

I agree with Cefor. Also you don't begin sentences with "and." So...

Quote:

And in truth they were not wrong

Take out the "and" and make it "In truth they were not wrong."

I really do like it though.

Storm Eagle · 05-12-2007, 02:15 PM

nice and good...I would like to see your other book, please pm me if your interested in having me edit it as well.

Svalbard · 05-13-2007, 01:05 PM

Thanks for the comments. I understand what you are saying about the names. This is the second book and a lot of the characters would be established at this stage. It is a first draft so I will be looking at it again.

Azmakna · 05-13-2007, 01:46 PM