Hello again me,
So the four day shift went well though the earlies are a killer... but along with the earlies come the opportunity to attend a Zumba class with Alex Henry. Now
that is an awesome. Love the music, the ambience and the 'hot and sweaty' feeling at the end of the workout that lets me know I have worked out and yet still feel invigorated. Check him out on Google, Alex Henry, Zumba Zcom. (of course as I assume Im still speaking to myself I'll accept the tiny voices in my head telling me I'm not only preaching to myself but I'm already a convert! ((madness creeping in))) lol WHO SAID THAT!
Now begins a two day off spell which I've been looking forward to no end as I can spend my day doing chores and washing my car, before tomorrow is spent typing and reading. Though I must confess I can't spend another entire day in bed reading, as I did last week much as I'd like too and I've just finished 'The Great Convergence' by JRLallo, which is the second book in the series I began and finished last Sunday. The Great Convergence I have to say was as good as the first book and I'll tweet the author later to let him know I enjoyed it as much as the first. On a similar note, another colleague at work has told me he also had a problem leaving a review on Amazon for 'The Tessellation Saga', my own small offering. I don't know why there is a snag for reviews but it seems there is. Sort it out Amazon please.
My daughter has suggested I put an excerpt from Tessellation Saga into this blog so I chose an excerpt from Chapter 5, its the chapter in which our hero, Gideon is born. I chose it because although not the first chapter in the book it is the first one I actually wrote.
Away on
the other side of the forest, a coach rocked heavily from side to side as it
raced along one of the forest tracks. One of the last of the winter storms
trying to turn back the spring raged manically all around it, the driving rain
stinging the eyes of the horses despite their weather covers.
‘This
is a filthy night and so cold… more like its still winter, we should never have
been given this job… ‘e should ave got someone else,’ shouted the driver to his
attendant over the rumble of thunder.
‘Who’s
the mark anyway, an’ what’s she done that soldiers want’ ‘er?’ the attendant replied
also shouting, as the driving wind tore off his rain soaked hat. ‘Journey’s sake!’ he cursed as he turned to follow
its progress as it tumbled and flew far behind them, the wind now whipped
through his unrestrained hair and thoughts of his lost hat paled into
insignificance as the view behind them made his blood freeze.
‘We
should slow down,’ shouted the driver.
‘You
tell them that then,’ the attendant replied in a panic as he pointed to riders
following in the wake of the coach, catching up fast despite the storm. ‘By the Journey, ‘ow the ‘eck did they find
us?’ he added as a wheel jammed in a rut in the muddy ground, causing the coach
to jump into the air before crashing back with a lurch. Lightning arced across the night sky lighting
the track with instant daylight for a second.
The attendant, thrown into the air with the coach frantically struggled
to regain his fragile hold on the unstable vehicle.
‘Much
more of this and we’ll all be stopping fer good, no money is worth this, they
can take ‘er!’ the driver hollered in the direction of his partner as he
offered a steadying hand. A crossbow
bolt thudded into the back of the coach, swiftly followed by a second, narrowly
missing the driver’s hand and he suddenly realised they would probably both be
dead men very soon.
‘Move
damn yer!’ he shouted at the horses, ‘move or we’re all dead.’
The
riders following hard were intent on catching up and the frightened driver
urged his horses on, trying desperately to get them to move faster, the coach
pitched violently, once more unseating the attendant as he clung on to its
side.
“E said
as how we were ter keep her safe, ter get her ter…,’ the driver didn’t get to
finish or if he did, his voice was lost as simultaneously lightning flashed
across the night sky and thunder cracked eardrums leaving the party of travellers
temporarily deafened. As the gap between
the riders and dangerously rocking coach closed, the driver began to pray,
still the gap narrowed. The forward
rider came closer, forcing his beleaguered horse onward; suddenly he was up
against the side of the speeding vehicle. The attendant carefully reached across and
attempted to push him back with a spare bullwhip kept atop the careering
carriage.
The
beautifully braided twelve-inch leather handle was now slippery in the intense cold
and rain and cracking the twenty-foot lash was almost impossible. Coupled with his own unsteady gait and the
closeness of the pursuing rider, the handle proved as ineffective as the
leather lash and the twenty-inch fall, the single piece of leather attached to
the end of the lash and usually most effective when used to cut or strike a target.
Now it lay uselessly coiled atop the
moving boxes and in frustration, the attendant threw the whip aside, his bowels
turned to water as he watched the pursuing rider’s attempt to leap the short
distance between his horse and the carriage. Almost in slow motion, the wind picked up the
abandoned whip and flung out its thong, the leather handle wedged sharply under
a box of luggage and the lash itself wrapped around the body of the man as he
readied to jump, it curled and struck his horse in the face, the long wet fall
biting deeply across its muzzle. The rider
went down alongside the coach as his animal shied with intense pain. Unsteadied, the soldier immediately grabbed
out at the wet rope like whip, catching hold and attempting to secure himself as
it untangled from his body and flew like a tail behind them. The attendant saw the man’s hands slipping and
a look of horror cross his face as he disappeared beneath the coach and once
more, the vehicle jumped, he wondered if the cause was yet another rut in the
road or the soldier falling beneath the fast moving carriage wheels.
Time
returned to normal as the body of the soldier appeared from behind the coach,
dragged along by the whip that had again entangled about him. The attendant felt sick as he saw spurts of
what looked in the darkness like black blood, mingling with the mud and rain,
the soldier remained silent as his body tumbled and twisted behind the coach
like an unsteady rudder on a boat at sea.
Almost
imperceptibly, the drag caused by the soldier’s body began to slow the carriage
down causing the driver to scream again at his frightened horses. In frenzy, the attendant realising what had
happened tried to release the handle of the whip from where it had caught, box
after bag he threw from the coach top as he dug for the pinioned handle, the pursuers
avoiding the missiles with ease in their pursuit of the carriage. As he finally wrenched the handle free, the whip
flew from his hands through the rain and disappeared beneath the muddy water in
the roadway, the soldier’s broken body slowed and stopped, now little more than
a hump in the road as the carriage took off once more with added momentum.
‘Slow
and we’re dead!’ screamed the attendant as he watched the remaining soldiers also
slow and gather around their fallen comrade, ‘they’ve stopped to see ter their
mate..., move,’ he added, unsure if the driver had heard his screams as even
shouted conversation now became inaudible. The terrain became rougher as the volume of
water and slush increased, the wheels jarred and shuddered as they continued
their breakneck speed pulled by the soaked, terrified and exhausted horses.
Ahead
of the racing team, near a bend in the track, lightning struck again close to
the route they were following, an old tree suddenly lit up and its silhouette showed
in high relief for an instant as it sheared off near the base of its trunk. The tree fell across the track only to immediately
disappear beneath the water that had gathered in the sludge. No trace of the trees once great bole was visible
above the water line as it settled deeply into the mud and the small fire at
the point of the lightning’s strike had no chance to gain hold, so quickly died
out as the rain continued to pour down in torrents.
The
carriage rushed on toward its fate.
The
wind howled as the first of the horses caught the hidden trunk sunk deep in the
mire. It stumbled and pulled its pair
down slightly before they both managed to scramble over the obstacle but the
damage was already done. The second set
of horses caught the unfamiliar downward pull of the first pair, frightened and
tired they too jumped, almost landing on the backs of the lead pair, then they too
went down. Amongst the thunder and
lightning, the driving rain and the mud, the horses screamed as they tried to
raise their broken bodies. The exposed
wheels of the carriage smacked hard into the submerged log causing the whole
carriage to spin and topple trapping the coachman beneath it. Lines snapped as the body of the attendant
flew, thrown high into the air by the forward momentum of the carriage, his
head hit a tree and he fell unconscious, landing precariously balanced between
two branches high above the scene of carnage below. The driver with his ankle broken by the weight
of the carriage lay helpless in the freezing cold mud, he was trapped and
unable to pull his leg free as the rain beat down and their pursuers made up
time behind them.
Inside
the carriage, a heavily pregnant young girl held her extended belly, she was
bruised, battered and sore but her relief at the movement inside her belly
caused her to smile.
‘They
won’t have you, he won’t have you
little one,’ she said, ‘I’ll protect you.’ Pushing hard at the door of the carriage, she
grabbed her bag and heaved her large swollen body out into the cold, rain
soaked night only to find amidst the screaming horses, the mud and the rain, the
driver, still trying through his pain to free his ankle. In flash of lightning, he saw her watching
him, indecision on her face, finally, she shouted above the storm.
‘Let me
help you...’ she called as she waded uncomfortably toward him.
‘No, no
my lady, go, run now, they’re coming for yer,’ he replied between gasps of pain.
“Sides, I would have let ‘em take yous,’ he added harshly.
‘I
can’t leave you… I won’t leave you...’ She
replied, as despite her size she tried to pull the offending ankle free. The driver’s scream rivalled that of the
horses as the weight of the coach shifted, settling deeper in the mud and as it
rocked, the ankle suddenly shot free revealing the open fracture and the blood
mingling with the mud and rain. The girl
landed in the mire, now as filthy and wet as the driver himself. ‘Come on... please try…,’ she shouted through
the rain lashing against her face and stinging her eyes as she tried to pull
him to his feet. He struggled to stand,
his entire weight resting on one foot.
Slowly both he and the girl crossed through the still screaming horses
to the side of the track where she tore a length off her underskirt to staunch
the bleeding and cover the fracture, the bone, white and jagged as it pushed
unnaturally through the skin. With the
ankle bound, she again helped him to his feet and they took off into the woods,
fear for their lives taking the edge off any pain and without thought for their
tracks, as evidence of their passing became quickly obliterated by the rain. Deeper and deeper they went through the trees
but above the sound of the unprecedented violent storm, they could now hear the
muted sounds of their pursuers searching for them at the site of the crash.
Hope you like it. Like I said its part of 'The Tessellation Saga' by me, DJRidgway.
Lastly, just seen a fantastic picture by Reg Saddler, its of Red Beach, in Rio De Janeiro, its a very clever picture and well worth a view. If I knew how to link it to here I would! My niece Sylv, would love it, as unlike me, always has a camera on her. Her blog is called, 'my fabric heart' and is great but again, unlike me she knows how to add pictures and links without getting the book for dummies off the shelf!
Chores are calling, I have a date with a mop!
