angienano's Journal

Chunk 2
Wow, I got off the ship and just crashed. :( And I don't mean only sleeping a lot, although I've been doing that too. It's like all my energy and enthusiasm and writing-fu just flowed out and ran into the gutter. I'm a little short of halfway to where I should be right now, wordcount-wise. I know I can catch up; the trick is whether the oomph will kick in soon enough. [crossed fingers]

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"And so you're taking care of him in return. Good, that's properly done."

"Not everyone agrees, Father." And Arden told him how the priest of Baruno had come in and ordered all the men slaughtered.

The Emperor scowled and said, "Petty of him. A man in his position should be able to compromise around the edges. Bad enough we had to kill all the others -- there'll be repercussions from that for generations. But every last one -- except for yours, and I agree that they'll likely agitate to have him killed as well. I'll have to speak to Ripavo about that, make sure he knows when enough is enough."

Arden went down to one knee, bringing the water up to his chin. "Father, there is more." And he told him about the encounter with Ashti, and the fight between Baruno and Dereno, and Dereno's scolding. "So the Revered Lord really isn't Ripavo anymore. That is, I assume he's in there somewhere, but Baruno is riding him like a horse, and also some few others, and he plans to mount you next. Ashti and Dereno were both very clear about that."

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Chunk 1
Hey, NaNo 2008, here we go. :D

I've been writing but haven't posted before now because I haven't felt like packing everything up at however much before midnight, lugging it down three decks to where I can get a signal (usually, sometimes, intermittently) and then fighting with the internet on the ship's end and the blown server on NaNo's end, to try to get a count in before midnight. Ick. So I'm just posting what I've got right now -- which is more than I need for Day Three, go me -- and I probably won't post here again until the night of the 5th, at which point I'll be home and once again using my desktop-sweet-desktop and our DSL connection. [hugs DSL connection]

For anyone who hasn't heard, I'm continuing with Swords and Shadows this year. This chunk below wraps up Chapter Seven and is about half of Chapter Eight, I think. The first six and a half chapters are still here if you want a refresher.

Please note that when I wrote about the first thousand words of this, I was horribly seasick. :P I take no responsibility for any glitches or stupidity in that chunk -- I'm just covering my eyes and promising to fix it in revision. [wry smile]

[This is my tenth cruise, by the way, and I've never been seasick before. :/ I already had a bit of the flu, though, and with my stomach already delicate, 65 mph winds (instant hurricane -- just add rain!) were enough to set me off. That's definitely an experience I never want to repeat. :( ]

Anyway, here we go -- enjoy!

Angie

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Chapter Seven, Cont.

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Chunk 17
Well, it's not midnight yet but I know I'm not going to do much more than this. It's just a few hundred words and completely pathetic, but hey, the boys are moving again. :) And we're at a decent stopping point, which is better than leaving you all in the middle of a paragraph, right?

I really ran out of steam a few days ago and I have no idea why. Alea and I were talking about trying again in January, so we'll see what happens then. I have some writing committments for December that I'm actually looking forward to, so that's good.

So, for a temporary wrap....

==============

Roscha hauled himself to his knees and Luka stepped over and pulled him up the rest of the way out of reflex. Luka was still staring at the glowing god, his second in less than a month and if it kept up he was going to find himself becoming a pious man.

Dereno planted the head of his hammer on the floor and leaned on the shaft with both hands so he could stare down at Luka. "And why are you still here? You could have been in Cara by now, dealing with this outrage."

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Chunk 16
Less tonight than last night. At least I finished Chapter Six and got a good start on Chapter Seven. Enjoy. :)

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Luka made a startled exclamation into Arden's mouth, then let go of his arm and reached up to grip his hair hard before attacking back.

They grappled for dominance, with a little less violence but a lot more passion.

So far as Arden was thinking at all, he was sure he'd win that battle. They were matched fairly evenly when it came to brawling but on this particular battlefield, Arden was sure he was the leader in experience, by several orders of magnitude. The Ruvori were moralizing prigs who stoned, strangled or drowned men who lay with other men. Luka's desires obviously leaned in that direction, but any actual experience he'd had would have been fast, furtive, and weighed down with shame, and likely engaged in with another man just as hesitant and just as inexperienced.

Arden, on the other hand, had been exploring men's bodies and learning how to give and take pleasure from someone who was made the same way he was ever since his cock first stiffened.

What he hadn't considered, though, was the possibility that he simply wanted Luka more than Luka wanted him, and what that would do to the power balance.

Or maybe he'd just underestimated Luka's experience. That was always possible too.

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Chunk 15
OK, I've been stuck and this is a really lousy time to be stuck. :/ I managed to break 30K words, which is where I should've been at this time last night, if I wanted to have any hope at all of hitting 50K on time. I'm really doubting I'm going to make the deadline, but I'll keep pushing and see how far I can get. [sigh]

=================

Luka thought about addressing the Molani emperor as "Gramp" and decided to save it for some time when he'd become weary of life. Or perhaps for a time when he was travelling in some foreign land, several months' travel distant, and sending a message back.

He was as close to relaxing as he'd come since the seige had begun, until Roscha banked the fire and lay down on one of the blankets, then pulled the other one over him and patted the space next to him, obviously expecting Luka to come sleep near him. Luka scowled, but before he could object, Roscha said, "You need to be near me. Their water skins are full of beer and they've been drinking it all day. If we're obviously together, they'll leave you alone."

Once it'd been brought to his attention, it was obvious that the soldiers across the clearing were nowhere near settling down for the night. They were as raucus as any he'd ever camped with and clearly enjoying their drink. It wouldn't have been a problem if he'd been a free man; he could handle any six amorous drunks, or even a shamed and murderous drunk.

But he couldn't fight back. And right then he felt as much like an owned piece of flesh as any slave in a mine with an iron collar around his throat.

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Chunk 14
Hey, I wrote today! Go me! The bad news is I'm only a bit over 25K, so I need to write about 5K per day for the next five days if I want to finish. Ack! [flail] Thanksgiving must've come later in the month this year; I was a bit farther along this year when I left to go to Reno, than I was last year, but I'm farther behind now than I was when I got home last year. :( Damn. I'm past the point where I'm sure I can do this, but I'm going to give it a shot, so we'll see. [crossed fingers] I did a bit over 3K today, so that's a nice warm-up. I'll keep telling myself that....

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There were many tactics used in war which weren't strictly honorable, but winning the war as quickly as possible meant bringing as many of your own men as you could back home, alive and missing as few pieces as possible. If the commanders had to make some hard choices and take some dishonor onto themselves to make that happen, that was still their duty and part of what made warfare such a cursed business.

But that didn't mean a man had to admire the ones on the other side who did it to them. Luka could respect the men on his own side who burned crops or fouled wells -- or spied on the enemy. Or at least appreciate them, even if "respect" was going a step too far. But enemies were still enemies and moreso when they went sneaking and lying. He respected the men on the other side who faced him openly with a sword or a spear. He hated them and did his best to kill them, of course, but he could still respect them as warriors fighting for their own people, and all the more if they were skilled.

Spies, though, they were different. Luka had to acknowledge that they were necessary, but that didn't make it right, or honorable, or admirable.

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Chunk 13
It's been a few days and I'm now almost 8,000 words behind pace [flail] but I'm up at my mom's and I'm not writing as much as I'd like. I also have spotty access to the internet; Mom has a wireless hub but unfortunately it only works when it feels like it. Sometimes unplugging it and plugging it back in, with or without rebooting my laptop, will help. But then again, sometimes it doesn't. :/ I'm piggybacking off a neighbor's unsecured wireless right now because I haven't been able to get Mom's wireless to work all day. No clue how long this will stay open.

Anyway, keep a set of virtual fingers crossed for me. :)

============

They mounted their horses and continued to the gate. The Molani guards set to the watch called a challenge, and Arden responded with his full name.

The senior sentry gave him a quick bow, but gave Luka a dubious look. "Highness, we've been ordered not to allow any Ruvori to leave."

Arden gave him sharp glance. "This man is my slave, and therefore Molani."

The sentry bowed lower and even more quickly while waving them through.

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Chunk 12
Very short chunk tonight -- my apologies but I was dashing around like mad today and I'm exhausted right now so I'm going to post what I've got and then go fall into bed. I'll be travelling tomorrow, going to visit my mom for Thanksgiving, so I have no idea whether tomorrow will be any better. In between my e-mail binging every eighty seconds today, I did some really great work with Alea so now I actually know where I'm going; once I have some more time to write and the energy to keep my eyes focused, I should be able to get some things done. So thanks to Alea, and thanks to the rest of you for your patience. {{{}}}

============

His mouth opened several times, like a babe searching for a teat, until finally he managed to say, "Lady, I beg pardon, but what do we do?" The goddess turned and glared at him, despite the fact that she'd been staring right at him the entire time. He didn't know how it had happened, but only that it had.

The goddess sighed and took on an aspect of impatience. "Put down Baruno, little prince. He has horded power and bartered it into more, multiplying his influence on the mortal Earth like a moneylender redoubling his coin. He has accumulated enough to manifest upon a mortal, as I have upon this my servant.

"But Baruno remains. This is...." Ashti paused, as though searching for words. Perhaps she was puzzling out how to explain the unknowable affairs of the gods to a mere mortal, but Arden got the feeling that there was something she was reluctant to say.

"This is costly," is what she finally chose. "I cannot remain for long without expending a great deal of... of influence. I must leave soon. Baruno remains. He stays, inhabiting his mortal host continuously. Rather than influencing through dreams and portents, or even through commands, he controls directly. It focuses his influence, allowing him to make frugal use of what he has. And mark well, little prince -- what he has is more than any other god, enough to manifest four times over already, and still he craves more. He would starve us all and rule this world with his own hands."

"Who?" Arden dared to ask. "Who has he inhabited?"

"You can puzzle out whom he has already inhabited for yourself if you think on it. I will tell you something much more valuable -- that the one he seeks next is your emperor."

Arden felt a frigid shiver move up his spine, and while his shocked mind sorted through everything the goddess had piled on his shoulders, she reached out with two fingers and gently but firmly touched both his and Luka's eyes, simultaneously, in the impossible way of deities. She said, "Do not delay and do not fail" and then... left.

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Wow, It's Evening Already
Just dashing in to say that I've been busy -- I just posted a column at Romancing the Blog (my first one!) -- and I haven't gotten back to the boys yet today. Unless I feel particularly inspired later this evening (right now I'm heading downstairs for some dinner and to spend some time with my incredibly tolerant husband) tonight's NaNo chunk is likely to be a bit thin. At any rate, I'm still trying to figure out what more Ashti can tell them without giving it all away. [duck]

Back later, although probably not with as much as I've been posting the last few days. :/

[ETA: Or... let's make that tomorrow. :/ I fell asleep after dinner and just woke up a bit ago. Not going to make it tonight. Sorry! /EDIT]

Angie

Chunk 11
A bit closer, although not quite caught up yet. Until the counter-widget catches up, I'm at 19,547. And hey, our first actual fantasy scene is in this chunk! :D

==========

Arden gathered up the clothing into a bundle, tucked the sheathed swords under his arm, and followed the soldier out into the main room. Luka was still squatted down near the fireplace, staring at something in his hand.

"I got your clothes," Arden said. "Bought them off of a looter. And these." He rattled the swords and their wooden sheaths clacked together. Luka spun around to stare, and flailed around to find his balance.

"My swords--!"

My swords," Arden corrected, "at least for a while. I hope you understand if I don't give them to you right away. I'd like to think that you'll retain enough of your sense not to kill me in my sleep so long as I'm the only one who knows where to look for Tochi, but it's hard for a newly enslaved man to settle down and accept his lot and I'm not going to gamble my life on your being sensible about it. If you give me a reason to trust you for more than a few hours, I'll let you have them. It'll be handy to have a companion on the road who can fight.

"For now, though, we'll have to count on your looking fierce to frighten off any bandits."

Luka threw him a hateful look, which was no more than Arden had expected.

Arden turned and headed out to the horses, asking over his shoulder, "What did you find there?"

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Chunk 10
I'm still catching up -- less than a thousand words behind pace now, yay. :) In case the counter-widget is still sluggish, I'm up to 17,421.

============

Luka moved forward into the doorway as far as he could without touching Roscha. He was conscious of every draft on his bare skin, of every eye they'd passed, but he was doing his best to put his personal shame aside and concentrate on more immediate matters. Right now that was finding Tochi, if he'd understood Roscha correctly. If he hadn't been lying again for his own purposes.

He looked over Roscha's shoulder into the small room, but the only person inside was another foreigner, a younger man with around twenty-five years, with curly hair like Roscha's but a dark gold instead of black.

What he didn't see was Tochi, or anyone else for that matter.

The younger man said, "Wait, what?"

Luka realized that Roscha'd been speaking Ruvori at about the same time Roscha did; he threw his hands up in frustration and babbled something -- presumably the same questions -- in Pilen.

The young man shook his head at Roscha, looking both sad and angry, and said something back. He made a quick, angry gesture at a spot on the stone floor. Luka pushed past Roscha to look, ignoring his nakedness in his need for information. The patch of floor looked freshly scrubbed, but whoever'd cleaned it hadn't done a good job; the quick cleaning had left remnants of blood in the cracks between the stones.

Luka's stomach lurched and a clear picture flashed into his mind of the same priests going into that room and this boy -- hardly older than Tochi himself -- not being fast enough, or strong enough, or clever enough to stop them. Or just not having the rank to enforce his will, as Roscha did. Whatever it'd been, though, they were too late.

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Chunk 9
I discovered tonight, right after posting my numbers, that I had my NaNo account set to the wrong timezone; it was an hour east. [facepalm] I was wondering why my graph looked off, duh. It's fixed now, although today's numbers are still registered to tomorrow (which is today right now, but anyway), but at least it should start registering correctly tomorrow night. All this time I've been scrambling for midnight and NaNo thought it was one. I'd just been figuring I was late a lot, that the site was slow or whatever. :P Anyway.... Good day today; I made up some more slack. :)

[EDIT: Dammit, the counter's off again. It looks like it takes a while for the correct number to get down the pipeline or something. :/ I'm actually up to 15,039. /EDIT]

============
"I don't suppose mentioning that I'm the only reason you're alive now would help?" he asked over his shoulder.

Luka made a contemptuous-sounding grunt from behind his gag. You didn't thank a man for saving your life when he just wanted you as a fuck-toy.

"I didn't think so," Roscha said, standing up with some items in his hands. "Having you be properly grateful would've been the easiest solution, though, so I had to try."

He sat back down beside Luka and set a small wooden box on the covered basket next to the bed. "Listen, then."

Roscha had a small but sharp looking knife in one hand and Luka made it a point to give anyone with a weapon at least some fraction of his attention. Was Roscha going to kill him now after all? That didn't make any sense, but then none of this cursed situation made sense.

"When the Temple of Baruno -- the Patriarch, that is, speaking Baruno's wishes -- urged war on Ruvor, he said that the god demanded it" Roscha explained, speaking quickly. "That there was some evil being plotted here, something foul which would bring darkness and plague upon the world if it succeeded. The Patriarch said so, claimed that Baruno had come to him in a vision and revealed it. I'm not sure how much faith the Emperor had in the prophecy, but he was happy enough to have an excuse to come make a try for your city. Running an empire takes a constant flow of wealth and this city is very rich."

Luka had heard some tale of a divine curse but had discounted it as either false gossip or merely an excuse the Molani were spreading. He still thought so; gods hardly ever involved themselves directly in mortal affairs, certainly not in the heart of civilization.

Those who were meant to tend to the divine needs and speak for the gods, however, were very likely to take advantage of their position, and try to manipulate events to their own advantage. This Patriarch, or perhaps the Emperor himself, had seen a pile of gold sitting to the east and decided to come take it, with the stamp of the Molani moon god to cast a veil over their greed.

"That was all fine and nothing new, although hard on your folks, I'll admit," Roscha continued. "But Baruno demanded that all of the Ruvori men be killed."

Wait, all? All? ( Read more... )

Chunk 8
The counter-thingy's still fritzed up, but the NaNo site has theirs out and they're working, so I'm switching over. The third-party ones were cool but at least these show the right number. [wry smile] I got a bit over the daily goal today, so I'm a bit closer to being caught up, yay.

[EDIT: Aaaand, the official NaNo counters are not working. [headdesk] The speedometer one is still stuck on day before yesterday's total, but this one is stuck on yesterday's number. Bother. Anyway, today's total was 12,479. :/ /EDIT]
==============

That did it. Conversation ceased and almost everyone in the room turned to look at the grey-robed man near the door. The few exceptions were men still busy with their new slaves and Arden supposed they could be forgiven for not noticing even a good, echoing bellow.

Unfortunately, he doubted that forgiveness was on the arch-priest's mind. Fortunately for the men still going at it, the arch-priest had another target in mind; all he'd wanted with the shout was an audience.

Sure enough, the priest strode through the room, taking a straight path and letting others shift out of his way. The fact that everyone did, in a room full of nobles and conquering war heroes, was testament to the current supremacy of Baruno's temple, and specifically its Holy Patriarch.

The man swept up to the head table, pointed an accusing finger at Duke Pormano, and proclaimed, "Blasphemer!"

Pormano gave the priest a shallow bow, his expression calm and grave. He had to have been expecting this, which didn't surprise Arden at all. It was an old and cherished custom that when an enemy resisted, when the Molani defeated them they slaughtered all the warriors and enslaved everyone else. It gave enemies of the empire an excellent reason to surrender, or to just go along with whatever suggestions the imperial emmisaries might make so that it never came to war at all.

Slaves comprised a large portion of the loot from any conquest, and the common soldiers' pay was a pittance. They were given rations, basic clothing, equipment, shelter -- a few coins for beer were considered adequate, aside from the fact that their commanders couldn't afford to field their troops if they had to pay as well as support them all. The soldiers looked forward to looting the conquered, which gave them an excellent reason to fight hard and win.

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Chunk 7
My NaNoWriMo Progress

[ETA: for some reason my counter-thingy isn't registering properly. :/ I'm actually up at 10,685.

Angie, poking the counter with a stick /ETA]
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The commander of the naval forces, whose deeds included the sacking of two port cities which had tried to relieve the blocade of Parakovac Ruvor, chose a young man. He took him without any excess brutality, taking a minute to stretch him first; from what Arden had heard about Commander Aeran and his chiefest captains, there was little personal hatred toward the Ruvori. He'd likely set his new slave to mending ropes and climbing masts and whatever all else sailors did on shipboard, and the boy would be a Molani officer by the next war.

Two more of Arden's older brothers made their choices; both were close enough to the throne to want women.

The heir to the kingdom of Voberen, an allied state which would be part of the Empire within a generation, chose women. There was no rule about it there, but the Voberi copied Molani customs and fashions in a desperate attempt to remain only allies.

One more brother, the seventeenth and just two years older than Arden, took a man.

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Chunk 6
Bother. I meant to write more tonight but I fell asleep right after dinner and woke up about fifteen minutes ago. I banged out a bit more, but then midnight hit. I finished the paragraph before posting, though, so you wouldn't have to remember half a sentence until tomorrow night. :)

My NaNoWriMo Progress

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[scene break]

Duke Pormano, supreme commander of the armies which had conquered Ruvor and the ranking Imperial in the place, threw excellent victory celebrations. To the man's credit, he'd had more practice at it than anyone else Arden knew of. The duke was a brilliant strategist and tactician both, and an inspiring leader.

Effective, Arden thought. That's what it sums up to -- the man gets the job done, whatever it is about him that lets him do it. That's why he's there, in that place, and he's welcome to it.

Arden was more comfortable when he could focus on one task at a time. Even if it were the sort of task where a mistake was likely to get him killed. Even if it were the sort of task where he occasionally did absolutely nothing wrong save being in the wrong place when some terrified little man finally collapsed under the weight of his fears and decided he needed to kill someone.

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Chunk 5
My NaNoWriMo Progress

Well, that sucks. [glances up at estimated completion date] Looks like I need to speed up a bit. [laugh/flail]

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Luka decided to jump right into the fray. "Hello again, Halvic Silver. Hung any more lost farmers today?"

Halvic turned red and sputtered. "That man is a spy!" he shouted. "And you are a traitor for harboring him!"

Luka looked up and searched the heavens for patience, making his movements over-large and easy to see from down in the street. "He is a sheep farmer, Halvic. An idiot from the country who thought he could come to Ruvor and find his brother on the first street corner. They likely don't even have street corners in whatever village he's from."

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Chunk 4
A little ahead yesterday, a little behind today. I might be getting close to the end of Chapter One, though, so that's good. :)

==============

Roscha nodded. "Makes sense I suppose." He shrugged and worked on gnawing off a corner of his bread.

They sat in the sun and ate. The meager meal always quieted the boys down for a few minutes, but they were boys and soon the younger ones were finished eating and chasing each other about the yard. Luka could see that they were neither as quick nor as nimble as they'd been, that the jumps over the water trough to one side were both fewer and lower than before, but the ones swarming around playing -- the littler ones who had between seven and ten or so years -- could forget the rest of the world. Or at least set it aside for a while.

Roscha leaned over so his shoulder bumped Luka's and pointed to a couple of students scrambling up the rough-finished stone toward the catwalk over the gate, ignoring the wooden ladder. "Are they supposed to be doing that?"

Luka felt the warmth of solid muscle pressing against him and remembered staring at those shoulders the night before. He shifted away a little and said, "Not really but they do anyway. I only thrash them for it if they fall."

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Chunk 3
Halvic puffed up even more and Luka wondered whether he'd burst right there in the street. No such luck -- that'd be too simple a solution.

"We will do as we see fit!" Halvic bellowed, glancing around at his fellows as though double checking that they were still with him. "This is none of your business!"

A quick glance showed Luka that one or two of the mob were looking doubtful but most were glaring at him just as angrily as the smith. "It is everyone's business when a murderer goes by his house," Luka retorted. "Or a gang of murderers." He took a step back for space and drew his swords, the double shing sound echoed when Tochi did the same. "You leave the fellow with me and I'll see he does no more spying. Go back and see to your own families."

He wasn't really expecting them to do any such thing, and sure enough they didn't. A man with a torch hollered what he doubtless fancied was a war-cry and swung the flaming length at Luka's head.

Luka parried the torch, catching it on the dull back edge of his left sword, then smacked the man across the ear with the flat of his right. The street was chaos around him and he moved around the edge of the melee, swords spinning. He heard Tochi give an enthusiastic whoop and sighed. Have to talk to him about that.

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Chunk 2
Still didn't get as much as I wanted done today, but more than yesterday. :)

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Just as they passed, the man looked up at him and they stared into each other's eyes. Luka felt a jolt of shame go through him -- what was he doing just standing there, watching that pack of fools haul this man off to do who-knew-what to him? And for what? The crime of having no friends in the city? Or the crime of being unable to afford a set of new clothes, bought all at once and matching?

More like the crime of being an easy target when they needed one, when the ones they really hated were outside the walls and out of reach, in the Molani army. Or inside themselves and doubly out of reach; they hated their own fear and the cowardice that implied so they had to attack something, someone. A fearful man did stupid things, he always told his students. This was a lesson come live and trooping past their walls.

Luka stepped out into the street and strode the few steps it took to move around in front of the passing clot of men. He'd spotted the silversmith as the leader, so far as the rumbling gang had one, so he called, "Evening, Halvic Silver. What are you doing there?"

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Chunk 1
Like I did last year, I'm posting each day's whatever. The breaks will be wherever I was at midnight and probably won't coincide with any actual scene or chapter breaks, so keep that in mind while you read.

I spent most of today banging out notes and not much time actually writing. I'm actually at a little under a thousand words right now; I'd have quite a bit more if we were allowed to count said notes, alas. :) After last year, though, I'm less uptight about daily wordcounts. I feel good about this one and I think I have more of a handle on where I'm going and how I'm going to get there than I did at this time last year.

This one's a fantasy, although there won't be all that much magic in it. It'll be smutty eventually but probably not for a while. I know, so what else is new? ;)

====================

Swords and Shadows

Chapter One

Luka Tevarion peered down the street into the lengthening twilight and debated one more time going out to look for Tochi. There was no one visible directly outside the walls of his school but he could hear angry shouts and pained screams and the wordless roar of riot drifting by on the evening breeze off Lake Smedevo on the other side of the city.

Tochi was one of his best students, at twenty-six nearly ready for the black and red badge of a swordsmaster; he was spinning death with the two swords and was better than Luka himself with a pair of longknives. Luka had sent him with Luka's sister Lena and their mother to hide in the ossuary vaults, where the bones of the dead rested. He'd heard others talking of sending their women and children there, a few days ago when the last of the granaries in the southern district of the city -- the one only five streets from the school -- had been stormed by starving rioters.

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