Chapter Twenty One
Five dawns after obtaining the level of Doci amongst the Celesti, Tyrone had still managed to hold from the Shadow the secret of achieving that status. In his mind Tyrone was rating this a rather important victory, but he had no illusions that the Shadow would simply let it lie out of good will, as if good will and the Shadow were comfortable mates in the same thought, let alone in the world!

Still there was also a slight amount of respect from his dark friend now that it had become clear Tyrone had won his long pursuit of Krenchi. Though to be sure there was always some new comment when she joined the men at the end of the day. It was not in the Shadow to let any situation go untested by the sharpness of his spelon tongue.

These were the thoughts that orbited Tyrone’s need to find the Shadow this mid-day. There were things the two men needed to talk about, things both had thought long settled on the night they were so ingloriously cast into the valley of the Celesti by a flood.

Tyrone knew the City just well enough to find his way to the district where the Vernita sept had many of their forges and workshops. Unlike the Shadow, Tyrone was not at all embarrassed to throw himself on the good nature of the local craftsmen. Soon enough he found himself standing in the open wall of a workshop watching the Shadow being instructed in the method of thinning and sharpening an axe head. After a moment or two Saltori Trasbello look up from watching one of his master crafters instruct the Shadow and noticed Tyrone. Leaving the men to their work the big smith walked over to Tyrone.

Chapter Twenty

Trasbello walked with all of his clan this night. He had no doubts as to the will of the Chositha. Under his leadership they had been the voice for the traditions that he and all the Celesti had been raised with. When the question had been put to those that had not attended the previous nights meeting, there had been only a handful that made the argument for the breaking of silence. Of those five had been assigned by Trasbello himself to make sure that all points of view were known before the vote.

As he could have predicted, the Chositha were overwhelmingly against this risky change in policy. But even with this victory in his hands, his stomach was tight, and his brows were furrowed. He was enough of a realist to know that what the Chositha choose was not always the way that the Celesti as a whole would choose.

He had seen how well Getovan and Brother Carlinus had played to those who had little status among their clans. It was entirely possible that the leaders of the other clans would be forced to bow to the choice of their followers. No clan could be lead without the consent of those that followed. It was one of the core truths of the Celesti way of life, and Trasbello was not one to forget. Had he not become the youngest Saltori by that very reasoning? All day long he had sent his Methodenon’s and Delmorael’s to speak to their counter-parts in the other clans, trying to counter the influence of the Sczenchi. He did none of this politicking himself, it would not have been proper for him to use his position to try to sway the views of those not in his clan.

Not that it stopped Getovan, he thought darkly. He’d had many reports of the Saltori’s words and deeds that day. It did not really surprise him. Anyone that would not only willingly break the silence, but propose it before the Council, was not a true leader of the Celesti.

It worried Trasbello that he would think so, but had he not heard similar thoughts from others under him? Still, it gave him no pleasure to think what it might mean for the Celesti that one of their leaders thought more of power than preservation of his people. That thought lead to the possibility of an open rift in the leadership, and while he did not know that this must happen, if it did the Saltori of the Chositha knew it meant bad trouble and hard times for the Celesti if it came about.

Happy Saturday and welcome to the 19th installment of Dark Soul. For those who have just joined this series this is a draft of a novel I have been writing (for way too long if the truth be told!). I am posting it here in serialized form in the hopes of getting some feed back.

If you are indeed just joining this series you can find the previous chapters at the links below. I am treating this as a learning experience so any comments good, bad or indifferent are completely welcome.

Chapter Eighteen

When one is occupied with new things, time seems to fly on the very wings of an eagle. This was certainly the case for Tyrone. As he walked down the Street of the Clay, where the Pathri made much of their jars and bowls, he could not believe how much he had become part of the life of the City. Even on this street, which was one that he did not often travel, he saw and greeted Celesti that he knew.

In the last three weeks Sly Tongue had become a name known to many in the city. With his easy going manner and a seemingly endless store of funny stories from his life out beyond the mountains, Tyrone was welcome at nearly every eating hall in the city. He was even starting to look more like one of the Celesti, as he acquired his own, lefteat, the sashed garment worn by all Doci in the City. He had been given the clothes by the grateful members of the Kethalan, for giving two of his steel knives to the small group of butchers.

Even though the Shadow had taken to calling him ‘The Irish Magi’ and kept asking when he was going to really help the people of the City and give his tongue away as well, Tyrone was really starting to feel that this place could be a home. He had not felt that way since the day that he left his Da’s Keep. It was unsettling to think that he might fit better among a people that he had not known existed, than with those of his own family and native land.

Shaking his head to clear it of uncomfortable thoughts, Tyrone turned left onto the Colored Lane, and dodging around a group of squat Barchare, still dusty from the days mining, he spotted the cozy Chifalow dinning hall were he was to meet Heltiase. And there striding down the street, a good head and shoulders over the crowd was the man himself.

Heltiase’s eyes meet Tyrone’s and the older man nodded and waved to him, urging speed. Curious Tyrone quickened his steps and was shortly standing next to the Chifalow Telethan. “Hail, Heltiase.”

Happy Saturday and welcome to the fifteenth installment of Dark Soul. For those who have just joined this series this is a draft of a novel I have been writing (for way too long if the truth be told!). I am posting it here in serialized form in the hopes of getting some feed back.

Chapter Fifteen

It was long after dark when Brother Carlinus was lead up to the House of Summer by one of Getovan’s junior Sczenchi. As they approached they saw light in many of the windows, and laughter of several people floated out of the open doorway to greet them.

p>“ I think I will go in alone, Jalbin. There is no need for you to come inside,” said Brother Carlinus to the young man.

“As you wish, Brother Carlinus,” said Jalbin with a bow. “Sleep well.”

Brother Carlinus did not wait to see the Sczench walk away, but instead made is own way up to the gate and then to the door of the House of Summer. Inside he could hear that the talking was coming from the room that they had breakfasted in. As he stepped to the door way he saw that more than just Tyrone and the Shadow were there.

Around the fire sat his two traveling partners, and the young woman with the amazing long hair. To her right was a wizened old man with sharp eyes and a bent back. On the other side of the fire sat the Garshon that had come to rescue Tyrone from his foolish pride, what was his name? Just as Brother Carlinus entered Heltiase looked up and noticed him.

“Well, here is the last of your group, home and safe!” The others all looked up and saw the priest standing in the doorway.

“Brother Carlinus!” shouted Tyrone, though there was no need. “Come and join us. We were just having some of this fine beer and Krenchi and Trelievence have been telling us some of the, um, less commonly approved stories!”

“Stories I would have, and a bit of the beer would not sit poorly. But, perhaps you have had too much already?” asked Brother Carlinus archly. This received a loud laugh from the rest of the room. Brother Carlinus came and sat by the Shadow, nodding his hello’s to all in the room.

“We were starting to wonder if you had gotten lost, Brother Carlinus,” said Heltiase. “Have you eaten yet? We have bread and fruit, in addition to the beer”

“Thank you, ah, Master Heltiase, but no. I had my supper with Saltori Getovan and his Sczenchi, some time ago.”

“See? I told you the good Brother would not miss a meal. At least in a city this size,” said the Shadow. This earned him a sour look from both Heltiase and Tyrone.

“All the better to keep my strength up for fighting the ungodly,” said Brother Carlinus. Tyrone rolled his eyes at toward Heltiase, as if to say ‘See what I have to put up with?’. Older man opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by his friend Trelievence.

Okay, here is the thing. I have been working on a novel, Dark Soul, for about the last five years. I am in the third draft of the thing and I could use some reader feedback. I know that posting here is leaving me wide open, but what the hell?

It is a fantasy novel set in an alternate Europe around the year 1,000. This reality has gods and devils and they are active participants in the world. Under the story of heroes and lost cities run the themes that interest me, faith, lack of it and honor. This whole thing started out as short story but just sort of got away from me as the characters (especially Tyrone and the Shadow) wouldn’t just be the sketches of people I intended them to be. The Celesti also turned out to be far more complex and interesting than my original outline for them indicated. All of this is my long-winded way of saying the story is long.

In any case I am posting the first chapter this week. If the folks of this community are into it (and don’t think they could eat a toner cartridge and a ream of paper and crap a better novel) then I will keep posting chapters. Any feed back, good or bad is appreciated. I can’t promise I will follow all the advice I might get, but I will certainly consider it.

Without further delay or fanfare, Dark Soul.

Dark Soul

Chapter One

It was getting dark in the forest. The trees stretched over-head and blocked most of the sky, but it was definitely twilight, whether one was in the forest or not. The road ran along with no pressing need for straightness, and from the back of a horse, it looked like a tunnel that constantly ended a few dozen yards ahead. The two riders could not have been more different. To an observer they looked like the kind of juxtaposition that a philosophy professor might come up with for the definition of opposites.
The one was clearly a warrior. Slightly above medium height, with long brown hair, held back form his brow with a thin leather string. Dressed in a short sleeved chain-mail shirt, covered with a leather vest, a bastard sword slung at his back, its leather wrapped hilt poking above his left shoulder, heavy dark green felt pants, bloused above calf length hob-nail boots. This man was clearly someone born to fight, and win. He rode a chestnut stallion with the confidence that can only be gained form long days and weeks in the saddle.