Monsieur Scattlocke - the Completion of Draft the 1st

*showers everyone with pizza and confetti*

In case the title didn't make it obvious enough:

I finished the first draft of my WIP Monsieur Scattlocke!!!

*screams forever*

So in celebration, I thought I could have some fun here, and actually tell you something about the book and pass out some pizza and snippets.

Yus. Snippets.

But we'll get to that later.

Now, technically I finished the first draft on Thursday the 8th, but I just took this long to get around to doing a post. Better late than never though!

I'm gonna put up allll the numbers and stuff of the finished 1st draft just for fun

Words | 62k

Chapters | 21

Pages | 174

Characters (no spaces) | 289,504

Paragraphs | 3,386

And, as you may have noticed from the picture, I've now named the series.  The Outlaw Legends (because basically everyone is an outlaw by the end. Mwahahaha). And I've admitted to myself that there's going to be (probably...maybe...hopefully) three books (*screams* I've said it now. I've admitted to myself that there's three books not just two. I can do this. I can *dies*). Monsieur Scattlocke, Agent Kit, and...Something Flint that I haven't a clue on yet.


Ooh hey, now we need to have a synopsis.

2556 days exactly.

Seven years was too long a time to be outlawed for. Yet here Will was, dismally remembering the day when the Great Federation had officially claimed him an outlaw. 

They’d even put six hundred ciphers on his head.

That was nothing to the six hundred million it was now.

William Escarlate, an outlaw running from his past, finds himself in the middle of Britain. Yet it is not the Britain most would expect. The Eastern Empire has forced it into a real life Robin Hood reenactment - their only hope to stall the world-wide war.

His hopes to begin his life afresh as a Frenchman under the name Monsieur Scattlocke are dashed when an enemy agent sees him and Will must go on the run once more.

This time he runs with the Sherwood Outlaws.

It isn't long before Monsieur Scattlocke becomes the outlaw leader, and his name is famous across the country for his daring escapes and rescues. Will hopes that perhaps there might be a chance that his past has left him behind.

But no one, not even the infamous outlaw leader, can escape the Great Federation forever.

Eventually, everyone is caught.

*epic soundtrack starts playing*

And now we need some snippets!!!

I was going to do the first paragraph and the last one (although, technically the first bit is at the beginning of the synopsis) but then I kinda realised that the last sentence is a pretty big spoiler and I don't want to ruin it all.

(Because yes. When beta-reading stage comes along...*grins like crazy*)

Wherefore I have spent another fifteen minutes scrolling through the document looking for some other random scene. 

And attempting to convince myself that you all know it's first draft, unedited stuff, so it doesn't matter how terribly terrible it is. *cringes*

So here's one from the beginning of chapter the 18th:

Will pulled down the wanted sign, screwing it into a ball in his fist without caring to look at it.

They were everywhere.

Allan, Ivan, Meldon, Kingsley and Tain.

Even Emir.

But most of them were Will.

Every week, every day that past, Will could feel the noose tightening.

He couldn’t last much longer.

Every day he left the camp half not expecting to return.

“They still can’t get my hair properly.” Emir squinted at his own wanted sign in his hand. “I mean, just look at that.” He pushed it under Will’s nose.

A smile danced across Will’s features at the sketch. “Maybe you should get a re-style,” he suggested, nodding at the sign. “It quite suits you.”

The Arab boy snorted through his nose. “Yeah right.” But a grin quirked up the corner of his mouth.

Another six weeks and Will would have been in Britain for a year.

But something inside him said that either one way or the other he wouldn’t be in Britain at the end of those six weeks.

Either he would have run, or be caught.


Hmm...that was a bit of a mixture of amusing and depressing...lets see if I can find one more. This one is from chapter 14.

There was no time to be careful anymore, if the coast was clear now, it wouldn’t be for long. Will flipped the trapdoor open the rest of the way, letting it thud softly against the ground.

Right in front of a pair of riding boots.

Will froze, slowly raising his eyes.

“What, I ask you, do you think you are doing here?” Merian put her hands on her hips, a scowl over her fair features.

Will gaped. “I...sorry, my lady,” he choked, shock and relief making it hard to get the words out.

She raised her eyebrows. “I should think so,” she remarked sternly. “Now, quick. Tell me what you’re doing here or I’ll tell father.”

“Rescuing Allan and Ivan,” Will said hesitantly.

She wouldn’t tell her father.

Would she?

She cocked her head to one side. “From our stables? Last I checked they were in the Sheriff’s prison.”

“They were but then we got them out,” Will shrugged awkwardly. “Through a trapdoor.”

“And why are you here now?”

“Because this is where the trapdoor went to,” Will said helplessly. “I had no idea.”

“Uh, Will...” Emir’s voice floated up from below. “Who are you talking to?”

“Don’t worry,” Will called down. Looking back at Merian he waited pleadingly.

“Why is there a tunnel from the Sheriff’s dungeon to our stables?” Merian demanded, crossing her arms in front of her.

“Long story,” Will said. “I'll tell you some time.”

There. Hopefully the 1st draft-ness doesn't make it too bad. I almost gave them an edit before posting them but I resisted because the whole point was it was a 1st draft thing. 

Speaking of editing.

*deep breath*

That's what's next up for me.

I took a three-day break after the finishing of draft the first, and then...

it

began.

The stage of dreaded editing.

Now. To be entirely honest I opened the document on day one and thought "Aw c'mon. It can't be as hard as they all say."

Ten minutes later I was slumped at my desk with my head on the keyboard, groaning like a wookiee.

And yes, I can make a noise like a wookiee.

But no. Don't ask me to now. Wait until I'm editing and I'll do it without having to be asked.

But!!! I'm not going to moan about the fact that I've done, like...one chapter so far (if anyone happens to have some editing inspiration, PLEASE HELPPP MEEE), because this post is about the finishing of draft the first! Which is a matter for celebration and pizza!

*hands out some more pizza*

Here's some random facts about Monsieur Scattlocke, because you totally wanted to know.


#1 | it's the longest novel I've ever written so far. (I've technically only done one other completed more-than-one-draft novel (The Bridge of Anskar - although it isn't quite long enough to count as an actual novel so it'll have to go by novella) so it's not a hard thing to do really)

#2 | I cannot work out what genre it's in...I mean, it's dystopian...except they spend most of the time in a forced-back-to-medieval setting. Is there a genre for Robin Hood Retelling?

#3 | the idea came to me about March this year.

#4 | the first scene I wrote when I first had the idea actually never happens in the story.

#5 | the sequel is going to be nothing like I had originally planned.

#6 | like, NOTHING.

#7 | there are cool flashbacks and melting slushy snow and Russia is probably completely different from how I imagine it. But that's their problem, right?

#8 | I really wanna tell you something, but it's a big spoiler so I can't. xD

#9 | they actually...kinda...fail at the story goal in the end.

#10 | hence there's a sequel. Which may or may not fail as well (I haven't actually worked it out yet). Hence there's also...(come on. Just admit it) there's also a third book.


Eeep. Basically, I'm so excited about finishing the first draft. And I'm very pleased at the length too. Like, 21 chapters is pretty cool.

And you guys are all so amazing for listening to my rant, and being excited with me, because that's just what you're good at.

*jumps up and down on one foot several times*

*noms on pizza*

That's it, I guess, then. But tell me all your own novelling experience, and I shall proceed to give you pizza and confetti. And if you're doing editing, we can cry together. And more pizza.

Basically, there'll be lots of pizza.

|| Jane Maree ||

Swords, Sails + Scoundrels: Ordinary Occurrence

*clears throat* I have a quick announcement before I start. Savannah (yup, same one as who wrote the fun guest post) has now started a public blog!!! It's called Scattered Scribblings and you all totally need to go check it out.

Back to this blog now.

The votes for Zeeb's Zephyrus were a bit of a war. Basically a war against me, wherefore I have tried my best to start the story on a happy-ish track. *hopes* So, I'm hoping that, even if I haven't shaken off one of two titles (such as 'Jane the Cruel'), maybe I have partially atoned for my meanness. :P

So, on to-- Oh, I never actually got around to saying what option won. In the end, it was number three. But it was close. Very close. I may have forgotten several verbal or uncommented votes so...sorry about that if I have. But anyways! On to the story!

“Louise? Great whales, they caught you too?” Gripper’s voice came muffled in the still air.

I hunched my neck around, peering into the shadows through a mist of tears.

A scuffle of movement came and Gripper’s familiar features appeared at the edge of the square of morning light coming through the grid of the hatch.

His brows drew together in a look of furious concern and he shifted forward, raising his bound hands to untie the gag over my mouth. “Cowards they are,” he snarled, expression dark with rage. “Ambushing people to take them as slaves.” He spat on the floor. “Did they hurt you?”

My throat was tight, and I couldn’t get the words out. Tears of pain and fear blurred over Gripper’s face until he was just another shadow.

I couldn’t do this.

“Louise.” Gripper’s arm went around me, pulling me to his side.

I buried my head of his shoulder, letting the tears come.

How had I ever thought I could do this?


The hatch crashed open and I flinched awake.

How long had I slept for?

Only a bare glow of light came in through the lifted hatch, at least a day had passed.

The Zephyrus lay still. Waves lapped against the hull but the ship itself was dormant.

We’d reached the main land.

Brushing the sticky marks of tears from my cheeks, I straightened, swallowing hard.

A pirate bearing a lantern shuffled down the ladder, followed by half a dozen more. He bared his teeth at me in a harsh smile. “Ye ready missy?”

I clenched my barely feeling hands behind my back. No.

They couldn’t.

Gripper’s arm tightened around me for a moment and then he stood, stepping in front of me. “Were d’you think you’re taking us? We’re not slaves, ye know. The Captain is coming for us.”

“Us?” the pirate repeated, stepping close to Gripper, hand on his dagger. “There’s no us about it. You’re staying right here.”

Gripper lashed out, grabbing the man’s right hand before he could draw the dagger. “What are you talking about?” he snarled, voice dangerously low.

“Get the girl,” the man nodded at his companions. “Take her up to the Captain. I think we’ll have to deal with this one.”

A sob of fear caught in my throat, as two men drew knives and stepped toward Gripper.

“Don’t hurt him,” I heard the words come from my mouth before I realised.

“Hah. Don’t worry about that missy. Just you tell him to be a good boy and we’ll leave him in one piece.” The pirate’s eyes met mine.

Daring me.

Gripper gaze flashed on me with a wild anger. “Don’t do it, lass,” he said. “Don’t worry about me.”

One of the pirates grabbed my arm.

I looked from the knives to Gripper.

I couldn’t make a decision like this.

A knife edged into the skin on Gripper’s arm, a small drop of blood trickling down the sun tanned skin.

“No.” The word came out wrenched with pain. “Don’t hurt him.”

“Lass, I—”

“Gripper, the Captain will come for you, I know.” A sob welled up, blocking the words. Choking it down, I continued. “I’ll be fine. Please, just...” I couldn’t finish, the words catching on the lump in my throat.

Gripper’s shoulders slumped, the anger draining from his frame. “We’ll come for you, lass. You wait for us.”

“I will,” I squeaked.

The knives slid back into their sheaths, and I was dragged toward the ladder.

I didn’t look back.

In the west, a red glow of sunset tinged the sky with its light, giving the deck an eerie fire.

The Zephyrus was secured to a long wharf, and even in the dim sunset the dockside bustled with people.

“Welcome to Levonel.” Captain Zeeb’s voice in my ear made me freeze.

Stepping around in front of me, his hat tipped up jauntily, he curled the corners of his mouth into a mocking smile. “It seems your captain was too slow, eh?” he said. “I’ll grant, it was a good story. Almost took me in.” He dismissed it with a wave.

He drew his dagger, inspecting the edge and then reached behind me and sliced through the ropes. Not even a scratch touching my skin.

They needed me whole.

No one buys an injured slave.

Anger and helplessness clenched in my stomach.

I couldn’t do anything.

“Well, we’d best get going before it’s too late and all the good buyers are gone home.” Captain Zeeb clapped his hands together.

A pirate, his hand on my upper arm to stop any attempt at escape, pulled me forward after the captain. The boards of the dock echoed hollowly under our footfalls.

A slave.

They were selling me as a slave.

I couldn’t let them do that.

If only Eumin and Leonora knew where I was.

A door opened and Zeeb stepped through, bowing to me mockingly as I had no choice but to follow.

Warin couldn’t be that far behind, could he?

The tavern was wide and packed with men, sailors, merchants, peasants, farmers. Zeeb pushed through to a table with one empty seat.

“My friend!” A man rose with a laugh and slapped Zeeb’s shoulder heartily. “I heard your message. A girl this time? We’ll find her a perfect mistress.”

The men laughed again.

Captain Zeeb dropped into the spare seat, returning the greetings of the other men at the table with a broad smile.

The pirate shoved me forward until I stood only slightly behind the captain, two hands resting heavily on my shoulders.

A reminder of the impossibility of escape.

The first man turned and ran his gaze along me, rubbing his beard between his fingers. “How did you come across this one?” he asked.

As casually as if I were a bundle of furs for trade.

My jaw tightened.

This wasn’t right.

“Oh it was the ordinary sort of occurrence,” Zeeb chuckled, nodding knowingly at those gathered around the table.

A shiver of anger tingled up my spine.

This couldn’t be happening.

“So how much are you thinking?” The words came cold and unemotional from one of the other men.

My breath came in gasps through the anger and frustration that built up inside me.

I wasn’t a bag of goods to be traded.

I wasn’t someone’s possession to be sold like nothing.

I wasn’t a slave.

I was...

Who was I?

Lady Louise De Corlette of Feâ Sirih.

Louise Conwell.

Crew member of the Rift.

Why did it have to be me here stopping Marius?

What was so special about me?

“Twenty silvers?” Zeeb’s voice cracked. “I was hoping something far higher for such a sweet maid. I call eighty.”

“You hope to get eighty from that skinny wretch?” one of the men scoffed. “I wouldn’t pay thirty.”

“You must see the quality. She has manners of court in her bearing.”

I wanted to run.

Do anything.

As long as I could get away from here.

From these men who were discussing me like a prize animal they hoped to sell at the fete.

A scream welled in my throat, pressing higher every moment.

This wasn’t happening.

I would never be a slave.

Never.

I’d rather die than be someone’s.

My vision blurred with tears of frustration and helplessness.

Please no!

The tavern door opened, the creak a bare sound hardly noticed in the rough noise.

“Sixty then.” The burly man threw up his hands, slapping his purse onto the table. “I’ll take her for sixty and no more.”

“Deal.” Zeeb thrust forward his hand and shook on the bargain, a wide grin plastered across his features.

Pain screamed through my mind.

It couldn’t have just happened.

I wouldn’t believe it.

Silence.

I raised my eyes.

The entire tavern was dead quiet, not a breath of a whisper.

All eyes were fixed on something in the center of the room behind me.

I couldn’t turn, the pirate’s hands still frozen on my shoulders.

Then an achingly familiar voice spoke.

“I rather think I’ll be taking this one for free.”

҉

1. Relief flooded out every other thought. Eumin. They’d found me.

2. Marius. No. He couldn’t be here. 

3. “Cap—Captain Wielder?” Zeeb croaked, his eyes round and bulging.

҉

Do you forgive me now? See, look how nice it ended! I mean, yeah, option number two wasn't too nice, but I'm honestly not expecting many votes for it because you're all such nice people and don't want to give me any more chances for being nasty. :)

Hopefully you liked it.

Fair Winds!

|| Jane Maree ||

The Importance of Secondary/Minor Characters - Guest Post by Savannah Grace

Heyo everyone. As you hopefully read from the title, [cue everyone going back and actually reading that monstrosity of a very-long title] today I have a wonderful friend here to do a guest post!!!

Welcome to Savannah! *cheers and applaudations*

Now, I would give you a link to her blog and all because it's such a fun place of epicness, but unfortunately it's also private. So it would kinda be pointless.

[Edit: SHE'S JUST STARTED A PUBLIC BLOG, SO YOU SHOULD TOTALLY GO CHECK IT OUT!!! Scattered Scribblings]

Equally unfortunately, that means you don't get to read the guest post I did for her (which was called '20 Fun Facts about Down Under and the Inhabitants Thereof' just in case you were curious). If anyone feels terribly eager to read it, do say so and I might post it here as well.

Now, I say Savannah is a 'friend' but to be honest, I've never met her, or talked to her in person, or anything. Don't worry! I'm fairly sure she's a legit human being--oh sorry. Actually, she tells me she's an orphaned elf from Middle Earth.

That figures, I guess.

She and I 'met' over Camp NaNo and have been great buddies ever since. She's a very epic person. And I am very pleased to welcome her to my blog!

I'd better stop rambling now and hand it over to her, and see what she's got to say about the Importance of Secondary and Minor Characters.


[Enter Savannah]


  Harry Potter. Lord Of The Rings. Star Wars. The Hobbit.

   What character do you think of when you hear those words? Most likely the names Frodo, Harry Potter, Bilbo, and Luke Skywalker came to your mind. The main characters – pretty much the stars of the show.

   But honestly, the stars of those shows would probably be DEAD if it wasn’t for side characters (sorry, sorry, just had to point that out).

   I’m here today to discuss the importance of secondary/minor characters and how to use them + not use them.
 

 Don't you love the pic Savannah made? It looks so...I dunno...American. :D

1. Without them … well, you have no cast. Whatsoever, really.
   Guess that makes a pretty good first point, doesn’t it?  

   So, um … who else REALLY doesn’t want to read a story with only ONE character? Come on, what fun would that be? Without Secondary and minor characters, you have NO cast of characters! And without a cast of characters, you have a very bland story.

   I don’t think I want to read a bland story, thank you very much.

2. They’re an extra POV/pair of hands
   If you’re writing a very huge novel, there’s a good chance that you won’t be in your main character’s head the ENTIRE time. There will probably be a couple places where the scene is from a different character’s head.

   And that doesn’t work without a side character now, does it?    

   Of course, they’re also useful when you need two things to happen at once in two very different places. Send the side character off to place B and main character to place A.

   Problem solved.

3. They’re help (or company) for the main character
   Could YOU make it through life all on your own? You couldn’t. I’ll just tell you that.

   And your main character can’t either – trust me.

   Your main character will probably need a friend … and maybe mentor-ish kind of character … or siblings and parents … you know, all the works.  Or half the works, whatever works for you *shrugs*.

4. Don’t have the secondary save the day
   YEAH you don’t want to do that. The main character is supposed to save the day, not a secondary character. Sure, we’ll like the secondary a lot (or you’d at least hope we do), but we’re really rooting for the main character.
 
   For instance, what if Hermione had killed Voldemort instead of Harry (you know, somehow …)? I for one do not think that J. K. Rowling’s fans would have been pleased (she might end up with a bunch of Muggles yelling at her very loudly). Or what if Pippin had destroyed the Ring instead of Frodo?

   Secondary characters can do a lot of great things, but don’t turn them into the main character.

5. Secondary characters can have plots of their own
   Ever heard of this funny little thing called subplots? Well yeah, you need side characters for those (most of the time).

   And what fun is a story without one of two little subplots? I literally can’t think of one story I’ve read that doesn’t have subplots, can you?

   A story definitely become more full when you add subplots (just don’t add too many – then it’s simply overwhelming). Secondarys help with that.

 
   SO yeah. There’s a peek into my brain.

   *looks over post* *realizes … it wasn’t actually very helpful* *shrugs* *uses it anyways*

   *exits stage*

Don't ask why I put it in Spanish...Random impulse, and it looked cool. :D

So there we are! Thanks again Savannah for the guest post, it was great fun.

I hope you all enjoyed it, and maybe even learnt something. (More use than mine was, unless you wanted to learn about the randomness of me)

(Just wanted to mention, Savannah and I blew our brains up attempting to work out our American/Aussie time zones so we could publish the guest posts at the same time...So I published this at 10am Monday, and she did it at 7pm Sunday. [cue a few more brains exploding at how that even works] It took us a while to work it out. :P)

And...I think that's basically it!

Don't forget, that if you want to read the guest post thing that I did for Savvy, just ask, and if there's enough of you wanting it I'll post it here as well.  

Fair Winds!

|| Jane Maree ||

Swords, Sails + Scoundrels: Zeeb's Zephyrus

Is it just me, or is anyone else feeling like the year is going past so fast? 

There was Camp NaNo in April and then again in July, and then there's actual NaNo in November which is coming up WAY TOO FAST. (And I still have no clue what in the world I'm even doing)

And we've done twenty chapters of this story already. Which is very exciting.

It wasn't hard to tell which option one for Lost from the Light. I mean, when there's 9 votes for option three...it's really not hard to see where it's going.

And I had lots of fun writing it. Hopefully I don't get into more trouble for being a mean author. ;P

Enjoy!

I threw myself to the side, tearing loose for long enough to scream. “Warin!”

Hands grabbed at me, pulling backward, smothering my mouth before I could shout again. Kicking and struggling against them, I bit down on the hand over my mouth.

With a yell it withdrew and I launched forward, slipping away from the grasping hands. “Warin! Gripper! Help!”

A tall figure was beside me in a moment, sword catching the faint starlight. Warin pulled me back from the charging shadows of men.

“Get behind the others,” he ordered, stepping forward to meet the attack.

I scrambled backward, hearing the clash of blades as Warin drove the men back easily.

The rest of the crew was running forward, weapons in hand.

The attackers wouldn’t last long.

Ducking behind the crewmen, a muffled shout made me spin.

A large figure was silhouetted above the cliff, swinging a fist at a lanky shadow.

“Gypsy Boy,” I gasped, running forward.

Altin was struggling against the man but he couldn’t escape. I threw myself onto the figure’s back, sending him staggering to the ground.

He rolled, crushing my arm beneath him, and I screamed for help again.

A knife blade flashed above.

I brought my knee up, jamming it into the man’s stomach with as much force as I could, hearing the gasp.

Jerking to the side, I struggled free, scrambling out of reach as he started to rise.

Gypsy Boy grabbed up a discarded sword, bringing the flat of the blade down hard on the back of the man’s head.

With a grunt he collapsed flat again.

I stood panting for a moment.

Altin’s dark blue eyes met mine. “Louise, you sa—”

“Don’t address her as if you were her equal,” Warin interrupted, stepping in between us. “‘My lady’ will do for you.”

The dark jaw clenched. “Sorry, my lady,” he muttered, turning away.

I felt a twinge of regret.

“Did they hurt you?” Warin asked, sheathing his sword with a quick movement.

I shook my head. “Not really,” I managed, licking my strangely dry lips.

“It was close. If you hadn’t been so watchful they might have easily killed some of the men.” Warin’s hands were clenching and unclenching at his sides.

“Who were they?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder to the dark sea past the cliff edge.

“Pirates. I don’t know whose crew.” Warin narrowed his eyes. “I don’t think they knew who we were either.”

“Are you all right, lass?” Gripper came up behind me, resting a hand on my shoulder.

I cracked a small smile. “Fine thanks.”

He nodded, patting my back reassuringly and turning aside.

“Did they all run?” I glanced up at Warin.

He was scanning the tree line. “I don’t know. I don’t like it, honestly. Something doesn’t feel right about this whole thing.” Moving toward the scene of the short fight, he bent, picking up a torn strip of fabric, sliced by a sword from someone’s cloak. “There’s only one reason they’d come after only you or Gypsy Boy.”

I looked over my shoulder again, the hairs on the back of my neck prickling.

“Why?” I breathed, not sure I wanted to hear the answer.

“Slaves.” Warin’s voice held a bitter edge, his eyes fixed, unfocused, on the ground.

A shadow moved behind him, just under the trees, and I stiffened.

“Warin,” I said slowly.

He drew in a sighing breath and glanced up.

“I think there’s—”

Following my gaze, he turned. Right into a sword blade.

It pierced into his upper arm, where moments ago it would have gone right into his back

I screamed, stumbling back as figures rushed for me.

Slaves.

No.

Dropping to the ground, I tried to scramble into the underbrush, but my burnt hands tore agony across my vision, my arms collapsing beneath me and sending me sprawling.

Rough arms dragged me up, running instantly, slapping through bushes and ferns. I struggled and yelled, trying to break free.

“Shut her up, will ye?” a voice snarled from my right.

“Yessir,” One of the men holding me replied, wrapping a hand over my mouth.

I couldn’t breathe.

What were they going to do to me?

“That’s better.” The pirate’s voice seemed distant and echoing. “Soon as we get ‘er back to the Zephyrus, we can teach her a lesson on keeping her mouth shut, eh?”

“Cap’in Zeeb always does,” another voice chuckled.

The sound bounced inside my skull, the spinning and blurring around me.

I couldn’t breathe.

Maybe I would just die now and save them the trouble.


Something hard nudged my stomach.

“D’ya think it’s alive?”

“Aye, she’s a breathing. Ye don’t breath when yer dead.”

“I still think ye squeezed her a bit too ‘ard.”

The hard thing nudged me again and I swam up from the sea of unconsciousness.

Where was I?

Hard boards rubbed against my cheek, rocking with the familiar motion of waves.

Waves.

My eyes jolted open, and I gasped for air. Standing over me, a group of roughly dressed pirates broke into a chorus of ‘I told ye so’s and slapped each other on the back.

“She’s alive,” one proclaimed. “I’ll tell the Cap’in.”

A tall man reached out his arm, blocking the way. “On the contrary. I’ll tell the Captain. Who do ye think is the first mate here?” The voice was a deadly calm.

The pirate stepped back. “Sorry sir,” he muttered. “Jest got excited, like.”

“All very well,” the first mate growled, his voice low.

Slaves.

They thought I was going to be their slave.

I couldn’t.

Wouldn’t.

Warin wouldn’t let them.

I pushed myself into a sitting position, glaring up at the pirates. “You will regret this,” I said. “You have no idea what you’ve done.”

A hand grabbed my collar, hauling me to my feet. I was spun around by a rough hand to face a brawny crewman. “Don’t worry, girl, we’re not scared of you.”

“You’re cowards. All of you.” I couldn’t control the anger that was welling furiously.

“If you think a skinny lass in boy’s clothes is going to make us tremble in fear, think again.” The man let loose a bellow of laughter.

“Here’s Cap’in,” one of the others warned, stepping away to the side.

A man dressed in an embroidered waistcoat and tricorn hat pushed forward, hand resting on the ornate hilt of his sword.

“So this is our girl, eh?” the man glanced toward the first mate.

He nodded. “Aye, Captain Zeeb. All yours.”

The Captain looked me up and down. “A fair catch,” he murmured, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “She’ll make a fine addition to our coffers. Should be able to find a rich lady wanting another serving maid.”

“Stop it,” I said, the words slipping between my lips before I could stop them.

He paused, eyebrows raising. “Stop what?”

“All of you. You keep calling me a catch, but I’m not. And I’m not yours either.” The anger bubbled higher inside me.

“Ah but you are. Finders keepers.” He shrugged carelessly.

“I am not,” I shouted, stepping toward him. “I am not yours, or anyone’s and if you don’t take me back right now, you will have more trouble than you bargained for.”

“Bah,” Captain Zeeb snorted contemptuously. “We are pirates miss. Your words do not worry us.”

“Captain Wielder will come after you,” I said, the words burning with fury. “And he will catch you, and rescue me. Do you know why? It’s not because I am his. But because I am his friend.”

A murmur rippled around the crewmen at the mention of Warin. The Captain stepped forward, crossing his arms firmly.

“You are trying to fool us. You do not know Wielder. He makes no friends of commoners.” He dismissed my words with a wave of his hand.

“That’s just where you’re wrong,” I hissed. “He does actually, and I am his friend. He will make you more than sorry for what you’ve done.”

Captain Zeeb glanced sidelong at his murmuring crew, a film of uncertainty over his eyes.

I took my chance. “See.” I turned to the crewmen. “You know the stories of Captain Wielder. Would you be willing risk that I’m lying? What if I wasn’t? Because I’m not. He’s coming for me as we speak.”

I knew the words were true.

He would come.

Captain Zeeb hesitated another long moment. “Very well,” he said at last.

My shoulders relaxed. It was going to work.

“Someone take her down to the hold. We need to get her to the mainland and sell her as fast as we can.” Captain Zeeb turned toward the tiller.

“No!” I shouted. “You can’t—”

A gag was whipped over my mouth, ropes yanking my hands behind my back. I struggled against the hands but couldn’t escape as they dragged me down into the black hold of the ship.

“Have fun,” a pirate chuckled as he slapped the hatch down again.

҉

1. A scratch of noise came from the blackness, moving closer with shuffling steps.

2. I twisted my arms, working at the knots around my wrists. If they thought I was going to sit here waiting, they had the wrong idea altogether.

3. “Louise? Great whales, they caught you too?” Gripper’s voice came muffled in the still air.

҉

To be honest, I don't think I even have a favourite this week, so I'm really looking forward to seeing what you all choose. Hope you liked this week's chapter! (Oh and did you notice how I handily came up with a random dude called Zeeb just so I could title this beginning with 'Z'?)

Fair Winds!

|| Jane Maree ||

Swords, Sails + Scoundrels: Lost From the Light

Twenty chapters. Can you believe it? We've already done so many.

And there's still quite a few left to go yet.

I'm guessing that SS+S is probably going to end up the longest of my serial stories, because there's still so much more that has to happen before I can even start thinking about ending.

Judging Justly got a pretty obvious majority for option three, so it was back to the Darkness with Louise. (And I'm the one who will get in trouble for being mean to her again. No, don't worry. I liked option three too :P)

Something cold as ice wrapped around my legs, dragging me down. Into Darkness.

I screamed, the sound wrenching violently from my throat.

Falling, slipping, downwards. I couldn’t see anything but black.

Nothing but Darkness.

I landed on something hard, my burnt hands pressed against a freezing stone floor. A small relief.

For a moment I didn’t dare raise my eyes from the grey stones. Panting, my throat dry with terror, I slowly tipped my head up.

The faint light I could see by came from nowhere, simply shimmering around me like from a sunbeam.

All else was Darkness.

Pushing myself up, I skidded back slowly until my back touched against a cold wall.

Where was this?

A slow dripping of water echoed from the far right, the only sound other than my own rasping breath.

“You have brought it...”

I jerked back at the voice, my head scraping against the stones of the wall. Jumping to my feet, I searched the Darkness desperately.

“Who are you?” I asked, trying to make my voice firm and commanding.

“This cannot happen like this. You are His brother. You could not have such—”

I spun in the direction of the voice but it seemed to be coming from all directions at once. “Stop it,” I yelled, barely controlling the swelling panic that rose in my chest. “Who is that, and where am I?”

“This cannot be...” The voice sounded confused, and angry.

And something else that I couldn’t identify.

“What can’t be?” I gritted, pressing back into the wall as the Darkness seemed to swirl around me.

“You. You cannot be.”

Choking down a scream, I laid my burnt palms on the cool stone, trying to calm down.

It was just another of those dreams.

“Except I am.” I licked my lips nervously. “So what are you going to do about it?”

A deeper shade of Darkness twisted out from the black. Darker still than the rest. Fear clenched my throat and I couldn’t have screamed even if I could find breath to do so.

The Darkness shaped into a man. Tall, a flowing cloak twisting and lashing from his shoulders as if it were alive, a deep hood completely obscuring his face.

Dark himself.

Terror locked my legs. I could barely think.

Then the hood slipped back a way and I almost saw two black orbs of eyes.

Drainers of light.

A glance and light would fade.

But before those eyes touched mine my knees crumpled and I found myself on the floor. Liquid fear flooded my mind, blocking out all rational thought.

I couldn’t fight this.

How could anyone fight this?

“There is no hope...” The words crept down through the Darkness like snakes.

“No,” I said, clenching my jaw. “There’s always—” I couldn’t get the words out.

What was the point of saying it anyway?

Leonora had said something about that once. There was always...something.

Always...

Always...

What was there always?

I couldn’t remember anymore.

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to.

Maybe it was hopeless. Hadn’t I thought so myself so many times?

How had I ever thought I could do this?

My hand, resting on the floor before my eyes, blinked with the faint light, dimming slightly.

“Wait.” I had to fight to get the word out. “Before you said something wasn’t right.”

Dark hissed viciously, the Darkness around him writhing at the sound. “There was never hope for you.”

“Never think something is hopeless, Louise. If you give up before you even start trying, it’s just wasted everything.”

Leonora’s face swam across my vision, an earnest look in her eyes.

“No.”  I pushed up from the floor, standing shakily but keeping my eyes low.

I couldn’t risk meeting those of Dark.

“No. I think you’re—” My breath came in gasps, every word an effort. “You’re—not—right—”

The light around me burst brighter, barely, but it did. For a moment I saw the stone floor a metre from my feet and then a scream pierced my ears, tearing pain seeming to shred my very self apart.

I staggered back, my only thought to escape.

To escape that sound.

Something wrapped around my waist, pulling me forward, the smell of salt and grease filling my nostrils. I flailed wildly, struggling against the pull.

I couldn’t give in.

Something knocked me sprawling on the ground.

It was damp and grassy.

“Lass, it’s just me. Come back ‘ere, lass.” Hands touched my shoulders, gently shaking.

It wasn’t Dark anymore.

Stars blinked in the sky high above, the shadowed face of Gripper leaning over, twisted anxiously. 

“You okay, lass?” the sailor asked again.

I swallowed, my whole body shaking uncontrollably. “I—” The words stuck in my throat.

“What happened?” Gripper’s voice was tight. “Ye almost slipped straight off...” he left the words hanging, nodding his head forward.

I pushed up and a scream almost shuddered through my lips again.

A bare pace away from my feet, the ground dropped off into nothing.

Scrabbling backward away from the drop, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the cliff edge. I had almost fallen? My breath gasped, heart throbbing in my chest.

How almost?

“Capt’in?” the rough voice came from a way behind. “You alright?”

“Fine,” Warin’s reply came through gritted teeth, and I could hear his heavy breathing even with the distance.

I stood, leaning on Gripper for support, my mind numbly trying to understand.

What had happened in the Darkness?

Had I somehow hurt Dark?

Maybe even...could I hope that perhaps I had...

I shoved the thoughts away. I couldn’t have destroyed him...it so easily.

“Louise,” Warin was beside me, eyes blinking away exhaustion. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” The word came out croaked and barely audible. I coughed, swallowing several times before trying again. “I’m alright.”

Warin looked at me for a moment, eyes searching.

“It...it happened again,” I managed in a whisper.

He nodded slowly. “I saw.”

“How long back do we have, Cap?” Gripper asked.

Warin turned to his crewmen, gathered around or slumped, resting, on the ground. “Too far,” he said, the words short. “We won’t make it.”

“Do you think Rantu’s after us?” another sailor asked, fiddling with the hilt of his sword.

“Undoubtedly,” Warin said. “But we can’t keep up this pace all the way. Half an island is far enough.”

“They’ll catch up,” I said, my voice quavering even with the whispered words.

Warin’s eyes fell on me. “Yes,” his reply came soft. “They will.”

It was all my fault, I knew. If he hadn’t spent all his energy carrying me halfway across the island he could keep going.

“You can leave me,” I said, pushing down the half of me that was screaming “No! Don’t leave me behind!”

“No.” Warin shook his head before I even finished. “I’m not leaving you any more than I would leave behind Gripper or any other member of the crew.”

A growl of assent came from the surrounding crew.

“You’re one of us now,” someone grunted. “We as look after our own.”

Beyond the fear and pain I felt a surge of something.

Something undefinable.

But something good.

I was one of them.

A weak laugh bubbled up my throat, and I felt it shake through my shoulders. “What’ll Leonora say?” I asked, my breath catching on a half sob half giggle.

“I doubt there will be much she can say,” Warin said, a faint smile brushing his own features.

The crewman holding Altin over his shoulder crouched, lowering the unconscious Gypsy Boy to the ground. “Can we risk a rest?” he rumbled the question.

“We have to,” Warin replied tiredly.

A strand of hair fell into my eyes but I couldn’t be bothered to brush it away, my hands aching dully as they were.

Gripper pulled his jacket off, draping it over my shoulders. “Come, lass,” he murmured into my ear. “You’ll need to sleep. Not even the Capt’in can keep going forever, even though sometimes that can be hard t’ believe,” he added the last with a slight smile.

“We need to rest. There’s still a fair way to go.” Warin’s voice seemed to come through a fog. “Three on watch at all times.”

The jacket over my shoulders was warm and I let myself slump slowly to the ground, eyes slide shut, dropping off to sleep.

A minute later, I came awake with a jerk, gasping for breath.

Dark.

He’d been standing there, as if waiting for me to sleep again. Waiting. Watching.

I couldn’t sleep.

Not now.

Pulling my knees up and wrapping my arms around them, I clamped my bottom lip between my teeth.

The shadows around me were like creeping Darkness.

At any moment they would change shape into Dark himself.

I couldn’t bare this much longer.


It shouldn’t be possible. How can She hold such power?


I jolted to my feet, pulling Gripper’s jacket tight around my shoulders.

Clenching my jaw, I stepped lightly over the legs of a sailor, moving to the edge of the tree line, leaning my cheek against the rough bark.

“Please,” I breathed, feeling the touch of a soft breeze on the back of my neck. “Please if there’s someone out there who can help. I think I need it.”

The wind sighed through the leaves and I turned my back to the trunk, sliding down to hunch at the bottom.

The opposite of Dark was Light.

If Dark was an actual thing, who says there wasn’t a Light?

“Light if—if you’re there, could you—” I stopped. 

It was ridiculous. What was I expecting to happen?

I let a long sigh slip through my lips.

It was cut short before I could finish, a rough hand snapping down over my mouth.

“This one’ll do, eh?”

҉

1. Before I could even think about struggling, something hit the back of my head and everything went black.

2. “She’ll be a fine enough prize,” a second voice snarled in reply.

3. I threw myself to the side, tearing loose for long enough to scream. “Warin!”

҉

I posted a little later on in the day than normal because it was my brother's birthday yesterday so I couldn't do my normal half-morning of writing the story and blog post. So instead I wrote the story in the evening (and...it may have gotten a little late before I was done) and the blog post this morning.

And I've now finally discovered how Louise is actually ever going to defeat the baddies and everything. That's rather nice.

Anyway, I think that's about it then.

Fair Winds!

|| Jane Maree ||