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Short Story: A Knight’s Prayer (Part 2)

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Continued from A Knight’s Prayer Part 1.

Based on the previous stories Adrift and The Vision.

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A Knight’s Prayer

Sir Gabriel blinked then stared down at the elf wrapped in his tabard. “It’s not what you think. I didn’t-”

Leopold chuckled. “Unless you’re an elf, I know you didn’t.”

Relief loosened Sir Gabriel’s shoulders. “She couldn’t have been more than a few weeks old when I found her. I was walking along the sea as part of my rehabilitation and found her among the wreckage of a ship.”

“So you brought her back with you.” Sir Leopold bit back a smile. Sometimes the gods gave you what needed in the strangest of ways.

“I’ve been searching for her family since I found her, but I haven’t found them yet.”

“Can’t be easy taking care of a child by yourself with your duties and working on healing that leg.”

“I’ve been very fortunate. People have been willing to help. Thalia’s compassion beats strong in Tamryn.”

Sir Leopold chuckled as he watched the tall, broad-shouldered Knight gently brush a lock of hair from the little girl’s cheek. Thalia may play a part in people’s willingness to help, but he suspected the Twins had a hand in it, too.

“I brought her to Aerius at King Eli’s request.”

“King Eli?” Leopold’s brows shot up. “What does he want with a foundling elf?”

“I’m not sure, but I’m supposed to be meeting with him and Queen Auburn.”

Leopold leaned back against the pew. That meant Auburn had a vision. One strong enough and with big enough implications that Eli felt it necessary to investigate. Both interesting and terrifying. The elves were formidable but isolated.

Or they had been.

And he’d preferred it stayed that way. The fewer uncertainties the better while dealing with the eastern provinces.

“Tell me when you go meet with King Eli. I’ll come along with you. He can’t intimidate me no matter how much he tries.”

“I’m afraid he’ll tell me to send her away.” Sir Gabriel tucked his tabard around the child. “I don’t know where I’d send her. I’ve tried everything I can to find her family.”

“They may not want to be found. Elves are an odd bunch.”

“You’ve met them?”

“A few times, though none that look like this one.”

Sir Gabriel cupped her tiny hand in his. “There’s something else you should know. Her eyes aren’t human.”

“Of course they’re not. She’s an elf.”

“They seem to glow.”

“Like I said, elves are an odd bunch. Never met one that wasn’t more than twice my age, and most were a lot older than that. Maybe all of their eyes almost glow as children.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.”

Sir Leopold pushed himself to his feet. “Staying in the barracks while you’re here in Aerius?”

Sir Gabriel nodded.

“You’re not anymore. Get your horse. You’re gonna come stay with me, and I’ll introduce you to Marcus and Brelynn.”

The young Knight’s eyes widened. “But Sir Marcus-”

“Is a good man who’ll help Brelynn spoil Aurora. Might even catch Mara spoiling her when she thinks no one is looking.” Sir Leopold knelt before the altar to Dracor as Gabriel stared at him, whispered a prayer, then straightened. He nodded toward the young Knight. “Don’t make me make it an order.”

Sir Gabriel gathered up Aurora and cradled her against his chest as he pushed himself back to his feet without his cane.

Sir Leopold smiled. Boy had a long way to go, but the gods were on his side.

 

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Short Story: A Knight’s Prayer (Part 1)

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Based on the previous stories Adrift and The Vision.

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A Knight’s Prayer

The moon hung high in the sky when Sir Leopold pushed back from his desk. He’d had plenty to keep his days full before Sir Marcus had killed the Death Knight and blown the eastern provinces wide open. Now sleep felt like a luxury.

But the people in the eastern provinces deserved the gods’ light to shine on them, deserved to tuck their kids into bed and not worry about what would come for them in the night.

Long hours in a comfortable office seemed like little to ask in comparison. And it wasn’t like anyone was waiting for him to come home at night.

Sir Leopold chuckled. Not true. Not anymore.

Sir Marcus would silently worry Leopold was working too much again, but Brelynn would openly fuss at him. Mara would stare at him with her strange amber eyes, her thoughts as inscrutable as ever. Strange lot, but they were family. Even Mara.

Despite the late hour, Sir Leopold strolled one last time through the Temple of Dracor.

The god’s power radiated through the building, filling Sir Leopold and reigniting his faith and purpose. It burned stronger tonight, more brilliant. Sucking in a deep breath, the light filled Leopold and inspired him. Fatigue melted away under Dracor’s radiance, and Leopold again thanked the god for His favor.

Finally ready to head home and take the fussing he had coming, Sir Leopold paused outside the main sanctuary. A young Knight was kneeling before Dracor’s altar.

Sir Leopold waited, but the young Knight’s rigid back and hunched shoulders told Leopold more than words could.

The fussing would wait a bit longer.

Leopold strolled down the main aisle, and as he drew closer, he noticed the heavy cane and glimpsed the young man’s profile.

Knight Gabriel.

Another hero of the eastern provinces, and another victim.

As Sir Leopold sat on the pew behind the young man, he noticed a tiny child wrapped in the Knight’s tabard. Her pointed ears, sharp features, and golden hair warned she wasn’t human.

Not a bastard, then. Sir Leopold had seen enough of those in his time, and he’d learned how to deal with Knights who’d made that misstep.

This was different.

Sir Leopold sat beside the sleeping child and bowed his head in prayer.

Knight Gabriel startled when he finally saw the older man.

“I’m sorry, High Knight, I didn’t hear you come in. I’m normally more observant.”

“You’re in Dracor’s temple. No need for such vigilance here, and nothing to be sorry about. Your devotion is admirable.”

The young Knight of Valor tried to push himself to standing. His face twisted in pain.

Sir Leopold didn’t offer help, knowing better after years of dealing with injured Knights.

Gabriel grabbed the cane and shoved himself to his feet. Disgust twisted over the young Knight’s features before he could lock it away.

“How are you doing?” Sir Leopold asked.

“All right. The Council has assigned me to temple duties… for the moment.”

While he healed, but he didn’t want to admit weakness, not even to a fellow Knight. That was a weakness in itself, but Sir Leopold kept that himself. “Not what I meant. Eastern provinces are a horrible place. My nephew still struggles with nightmares.”

“Sir Marcus? But he’s-”

“A good man, a strong man, but still a man.”

Sir Gabriel ran his hand through his hair and sat beside Sir Leopold. “Nightmares are crushing some nights. Only place they get better is here.”

“Time can help. Talking can help more. You ever wanna talk to Sir Marcus or another Knight that went through what you did, you let me know. There’s no shame in it. Matter of fact, talking takes a great deal more courage than burying the pain.”

Sir Gabriel stared down at his cane, and Leopold could see the memories haunting the young man. Wasn’t fair or right, but nothing about the eastern provinces was. Sir Gabriel volunteered for the horrible assignment after his mother had died. He was unmarried and had no family left to grieve for him if he died.

A selfless act, even for a Knight of Valor.

Sir Leopold laid a steadying hand on the other Knight’s shoulder. “I heard your story, but I don’t know the real horror. Talk to Marcus. If not him, talk to Matthias. There’s no shame. No judgement. But they can help.”

Sir Gabriel balled his fists at his side. “They call me a hero, but I didn’t save them. I didn’t save…”

Leopold let him catch his breath. “I know you didn’t, but for the thirty or forty families you saved, you’re a hero. Thirty or forty families that would’ve died without you.”

“But-”

He squeezed Sir Gabriel’s shoulder. “You sacrificed a lot to hand Dracor a victory. And it was a victory.”

“But it was my fault. I consecrated the church. I had no idea it would bring so many ghouls.”

“And that consecrated church is a beacon of hope to that town and the surrounding lands. A place the locals go even now to escape nightmares I don’t even want to imagine. You gave them that.” Leopold nodded toward the altar. “You did what you thought was right. That’s all a man can do. Even a man in service to the gods.”

Sir Gabriel sucked in a breath as he considered Leopold’s words.

Leopold gave him a few minutes then nodded toward the sleeping child. “Who’s she?”

 

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3 Myths About Swords You Probably Believe

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I talked about armor here, but there’s also a lot of misconceptions about swords. Especially if you play RPGs or watch the History Channel.

 

3 Myths About Swords You Probably Believe

 

1. Swords of the Middle Ages Were Very Heavy

Many of us have played an RPG (role-playing game) in our time, whether in video game form or table top. This means we’ve seen the stats on weapons and had to make sure our warrior or paladin was strong enough to wield them.  While strength was important, the weights in these games and quoted on the History Channel may have been in there more for game balance than fact.

Not exactly like what you see in RPGs, but far more accurate.

Truth: According to the Wallace Collection Museum in London that has dozens of actual swords from the Middle Ages, you’ll be hard-pressed to find any that weighed more than four pounds. Most weighed less than three. Even the large “hand-and-a-half” swords rarely weighed more than 4.5 pounds. Large parade swords only weighed up to eight or nine pounds, but their blunt edges should be a clear sign they weren’t meant for combat.

All of these swords would be easily handled by a man who’d been training with them since the age of seven.

Some of this misconception may come from producing replica swords which are not made the same way they were in the middle ages or with the same materials. Still, it wouldn’t have taken more than a trip to a museum to prove this out.

 

2. Swords of the Middle Ages Were Clumsy

In a fencing booklet from 1746, the author talked about how heavy and unwieldy earlier swords were and stated they were designed for brute force. I can’t exclusively blame the Victorians for this one, though in the 1870s, a historian described earlier weapons as ponderous and requiring both hands.

Better for a video game than real life.

Truth: The weapons of the Middle Ages were light, strong, and well-designed. They were agile weapons designed to kill, and they did a fine job of it. They were not clumsy or heavy. They were not “clubs with edges”. Of course they weren’t. Men had been fighting with swords for thousands of years. Improvements were made along the way. Materials got better, and so did forging techniques. Guns would eventually change warfare, but not for a long time, and when it comes to survival, humans are remarkably inventive.

 

3. Swords of the Middle Ages Were Prone to Breaking

Again, not sure where this came from, unless a scholar was holding a 500 year-old sword that had grown brittle with time. Swords did not regularly break in battle. Seriously. If they did, that army would’ve lost, and you can guarantee the victor wouldn’t have adopted their shoddy techniques.

When you step back and look at this logically, of course it makes sense that knights and soldiers of the Middle Ages had finely-crafted blades that were light, sturdy and agile. War tends to bring about inventiveness as nothing drives innovation like survival. And the funding from kings and emperors didn’t hurt, either.

 

While video games may show us a visually appealing truth, and RPGs struggle with game balance, the truth about knights, swords and armor doesn’t change. Armor was practical and effective. So were swords. Important things for me as a writer to know, though I wonder if it will be disappointing or unbelievable to see the mundane truth in my work. Something for me to consider.

 Any other myths about the European middle ages out there we all take for granted?

Short Story: Brothers

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Brothers

“At least I didn’t set Mom on fire.”

Dylan threw up his hands. “I was two years old! Nobody brings up the fact that you pooped on Mom when you were two.”

“Did not. And you were three when you set her on fire.”

“Two, three, whatever. It’s not like I had control of the magic. Not like I meant to do it.”

Lucas inspected the joints on his armor. “Doesn’t matter. You still set her on fire.”

“And I’ve tried to make-up for it every mother’s day since. But no matter what I do, Dad still gives me this look like, ‘That’s it? That’s all you could get your mother after setting her on fire?’ I could magic her up a solid diamond horse and carriage, a fleet of solid diamond horse and carriages, and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

“A diamond horse and carriage wouldn’t move very fast.”

Dylan glared at his brother. “What about the time I tracked down three golden unicorns, captured them, brought them back here and taught them to dance for Mom. Dad still gave me the look because it wasn’t all five. But the other two were so freaking fast.”

“Should move faster.”

“You fast enough to outrun a fireball?” A glowing sphere of flame appeared in Dylan’s hand.

Lucas grinned. “What are you going to get me for my birthday if you set me on fire? The last two golden unicorns?”

“Go to the seventh hell.”

“Speaking of the hells, Dad must like you at least a little. He allowed an Oskelesian mage into Tamryn just to teach you to control your magic.”

“An Oskelesian mage that Sir Marcus, slayer of liches and all around hero, married. You may be a prince, but Sir Marcus would still kick your ass if he heard you say anything bad about her.”

Lucas crossed his arms over his chest and raised a brow.

“By Dracor’s left fang, you were engaged to their daughter. How bad can her mother be, Oskelesian or not?”

“You had to bring that up.”

“You were engaged last month. On purpose. I accidentally burned Mom over twenty years ago.”

Lucas strapped on his sword. “But Mom didn’t bargain her life to save Tamryn.”

“Not that we know of, anyway.” Dylan snorted. “Shouldn’t you go slay the dragon or something and bring your betrothed back?”

Lucas’s jaw twitched. “She made the bargain voluntarily, and he lived up to his half.”

“Hasn’t stopped other men.”

“I’m bound by the code of Dracor and the Dragon Church.”

“Sounds like an excuse to me.” Dylan leaned against the door frame.

“Then why don’t you go slay the dragon? Oh wait, if you’re not fast enough to catch the last two golden unicorns, you wouldn’t stand a chance against a dragon.”

“Who says I’d want to? Though better a dragon than Mom and Dad marrying me off. At least that’s a fast death.”

“If you want a fast death, piss Dad off again.” Lucas hefted his shield engraved with the twin dragon crest of the royal family. “Speaking of Dad, we have three minutes until we’re late.”

Both princes bolted down the hall toward the throne room.

 

 

 

 

Home Renovation: Does Lavender Coordinate With Pink?

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We finished painting my daughter’s room a soft lavender. Misty Lavender to be precise. Who thinks up these names? Maybe it’s a side job for romance writers.

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Misty Lavender pairs with Erotic Indigo? Ravishing Red?

But I digress.

It took a single coat of paint plus some touch-ups. Between my husband and me, we painted the room on Saturday and did the touch ups Sunday morning. My daughter slept in the living room on a carpet sleepover Saturday night as she didn’t like the smell. I barely noticed the smell, and I have a hyper-sensitive nose, but I figured she wanted the carpet sleep-over we’d promised. She was back in her room on Sunday.

We were feeling pretty good about our skills and the room. The pale lavender looks lovely next to the Silky White trim.

But I did notice the ceiling looked out of place.

According to HGTV, it’s ideal to pain the ceiling a lighter shade than the walls so that the ceiling looks higher, but it doesn’t have such an abrupt transition from the walls. So, we did that.

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A good reason to paint the ceiling a different color than your cat!

We figured this wouldn’t be a huge issue as we’d painted the ceiling a light purple to go with the previous My Little Pony Twilight Sparkle purple room that she’d had.

Except, it didn’t look right, and I didn’t know why.

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And a chunk of my paycheck because my daughter loved her for years.

When my sister came over, we showed her my daughter’s room. After she said it looked nice, her very next words were, “You’re going to paint the ceiling, right?”

Well, um, why do you ask?

She gives me “the look” I’ve gotten for many years when my complete lack of color knowledge peeks through. She then explains that the color on the ceiling has red undertones and the colors on the wall have blue undertones.

I look at her. “So that means blue and red don’t go together? Even if they’re on our flag?”

She was kind enough not to roll her eyes at me. Well, at least while I was watching. She explained they didn’t go together and that’s why your attention is instantly drawn to the ceiling.

So we need to paint it.

Home projects never go as I expect.

How about you? Ever have any painting mishaps? Ever end up with colors that clashed? Why? Did you fix them?

Update: Creative Endeavors

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While I may have posted a bit about our home remodeling adventure, I am still working very hard on my creative projects.

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I first saw white doves instead of smoke. Not sure what it says about me.

I’m on track to have the romance novel about Daniella and Callen ready by this fall. Yes, the same Daniella from To Love a Prince. She needs her own happily-ever-after.

 I finished my fourth round of revisions on this story and sent it to my editor and beta reader earlier this month. This is my first time using this editor, but I got her name from a blogger friend, so I am hopeful. My beta reader is amazing, and she’s done a better job than paid editors I’ve used.

I am both excited and nervous to hear back from them. It’s always hard to let your baby go. Yes, it’s not perfect. Yes, their honest critique will make it better. It’s still hard to hear, even if it’s needed changes.

While I’m waiting for their edits to come back, the short story I wrote about Sir Gabriel didn’t shake him out of my head. Rather, it wove him deeper into my thoughts. So, rather than work on the novel I’d been planning, he’s getting his own story. I’m 100 pages into it already, so it’s going to be a full length novel rather than a novella.

 I’ve started to think of stories for Eli and Auburn’s children, but I’ve put those plot bunnies in a pen for now.

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The creative joy of the plot bunny.

I think I will save them for a future series called the Sleeping Dragon or the Dragon Wakes.

 I still have several more story ideas for future novels in the Knights of Valor series, and I’ve had more ideas for the the series I started that involves dragon brothers and their riders.

Ideas aren’t my issue, but time sure is! The day job is quieting down as we head into the summer months, so hopefully I will have more mental bandwidth for writing and editing.

My goal is to release one more book this year and three next year.

Yes, I put that in writing. Hold me to it!