Mharvey
Sports Reporter
- Joined
- Jun 13, 2008
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Greetings,
I'm looking for a few honest, between-the-eyes opinions on a prologue I wrote for my recently completed novel. Does it do what is intended? Do you want to read more? Or if this was the first few pages in a bookstore, would you put it down and move on?
This story takes place in the atermath of the Great War, where an empire that has risen from the ashes of a peaceful and just kingdom, one hellbent on tyranny and oppression. Yet though the war is over, Inquisitors continue to comb the land, seeking any royal descendent with even a drop of noble blood, and making them vanish into the night.
There's a prophecy in play - foretold by one of the Azure Empresses prophets: If a member of the previous royal family so much as sits upon her Throne, everything she has built will collapse.
Now, after 11 years, the line is all but extinct - in fact, only one remains with royal blood. A boy, raised on the frontier of the Empire by adopted parents and raised as a peasent, the truth of his line known to only a few. He is the only one who can bring down the Empire and redeem his people's kingdom.
Below is the prologue to the novel.
******
Behind them, the demons gave chase.
Branches slashed at her face as she staggered to keep up, her feet threatened to slide out from under her on the icy snow. The trees whisked by her as she was dragged through the dark forest.
Strong, steady fingers held her arm as her escort furiously beat the tangled, bare bushes ahead of them. Someone was grabbing her lungs and squeezing.
A wolf howled behind them. She clung tighter to the baby at her chest. One hand held her escort, the other wrapped around the babe, swaddled in cloth. Sensing fear, the babe mewled and buried his face into her thin, wool coat.
Darla felt her feet catch upon something hidden beneath the snow. Rexis, her escort, stopped moving, threw an arm around her, catching her stumble.
“Keep moving,” Rexis whispered harshly.
Her strength was at an end. They had been running for almost an hour.
“Take Corliss…” she pleaded, holding the babe to Rexis. “I can’t.”
“You will,” snapped Rexis, determination written on his youthful face. In the moonlight, she saw but the silhouette of his proud nose and sharp, pointed chin. So confident – so strong for a boy of six and ten.
He’s too young, she thought. He’s too young to die here…
Forcing herself to her feet, she continued to amble after him. The shadows swelled all around them, dancing as the moon shifted between the gnarled branches overhead.
She saw them in the distance– light. Torches that flickered like will o’ wisps amidst the tree trunks before them.
“Damn!” cursed Rexis, his breath billowing out his mouth in steamy gouts.. “They’ve cut us off.” He spun Darla toward him, gripping her shoulders. “You must turn south. Toward the Leche… find a fishing boat.”
“What about you?”
Behind them, another wolf cried – then a second. Lights followed the shouts of men, swinging pellmell through the shadowy trees.
“There’s no time..”
He shoved her away from him, turning back north.
“Get Corliss out of here – he’s all that matters. Go!”
Finding strength from somewhere, Darla grit her teeth and moved on. Corliss’s head bumped into her chest. She wanted to carry him to safety, but she turned back – she had to.
Two wolves had broken through the treeline, their snarling yellow teeth contrasted by moonlight. Their glowing red eyes fixed on Rexis. Darla felt her knees go weak; they would smell the child for sure.
You have to keep moving…she told herself. You have to!
Her legs refused to move. A cold wave of nausea overcame her; she fell to her knees. Corliss opened his mouth to cry; she slapped her hand over the babe’s mouth. She scrambled over her own legs, thrusting her back against a tree, the branches obscuring her from sight.
A loud shing cut through the air, the sound of metal on metal. Panting, she glanced around the trunk. Rexis had loosed his sword from his sheath; a large golden ******* sword of grafton craft. She knew it was Excidias, a sword forged for kings. Its legendary power was known to even the smallest child of the lowest castes.
The first wolf lunged for Rexis’s leg; he found nothing but air as Rexis skipped backward, crunching snow beneath his rapidly pumping boots.
He brought Excidas forward with a sudden whoosh, then a loud squish. Black blood covered the snow as the wolf’s head fell free from its body.
A shout came from the treeline. Rexis spun to his side, planting his back against a tree. A crossbow bolt struck the snow just next to him, kicking up ice. A second thunked into his tree, halfway to the feathers.
The second wolf sprang around the trunk, snapping and snarling. Rexis drove his foot into the wolf’s muzzle; the creature snapped on his boot. Both went down in a heep. Excidas fell from his hands, landing in the snow.
The wolf yanked at Rexis’s foot, loosing his boot and rending the stocking and skin beneath it. Though fear filled Rexis’s eyes, the boy’s hand was steady.
He reached for his other leg, drawing a smooth jeweled dirk from his boot sheath. With a yell of determination, he jammed the four inches of metal through the wolf’s left ear.
The creature let out a pitiful yelp as it staggered backwards, as though confused. It whimpered, gave its own leg a bite… then rolled onto the ground, unmoving.
He’s all right, Darla thought. She felt light-headed, as though drunk..
He’ll be all right. She knew it was time to get moving, but if she tried to move, she would be seen.
Another four whizzes; three flew over Rexis’s prone form while a third whipped through the foliage, the point shaving across the boy’s forehead, leaving a line of red.
He kicked furiously at the ground, one bare, bleeding foot digging into the snow. He pushed himself back against the tree, steam shooting from his mouth and nose.
“Okay, okay – hold fire. Hold fire,” called a taunting, arrogant voice from the bushes. “You two, with me.”
Darla watched with a sinking stomach as three men entered her field of sight.
Through the gloom, one man stood out like a candle flame. He was dressed in a solid golden robe that blew in the frigid wind. A glimmering, azure-blue scarf covered his neck and draped down his chest and back. An elaborate black chapeau covered his head, adding six inches to his height.
What she could see of his face reminded her of a lizard; pointed chin, skin stretched tightly over the bones. Lips like slugs seemed to writhe independently of the rest of his face. She realized the man was laughing silently. He held a massive flail in one hand, the bail swinging from its chain inches from the snowy ground.
“Come out, come out –little Lorinthal. There’s a good boy. We’re not gonna hurt you.”
Contrary to his sly words, Darla noticed both of the man’s guards had drawn their blades, and the golden man himself jiggled his flail with eager anticipation.
Rexis forced himself to his feet and stepped out of cover, his bloody toes leaving a faint dark trail in his wake. Darla gasped, nearly revealing her position. What was he doing? She barely restrained herself – she wanted to call out to him – tell him to run.
He picked up Excidias and held it tightly in both hands.
“What a bore!” wailed the lizard-like man, as though wounded.. “He stands so disgustingly nobly! He looks his executioner right in the eye! Where’s the fun in this?”
Darla watched as four more men stepped into view, surrounding Rexis. They had crossbows leveled toward him.
“I’m not afraid to die,” said Rexis, his voice barely above a whisper in the wind.
“Aw – not even a little bit?” asked the golden robe man. He began to circle Rexis like a vulture. “C’mon – gimmie one itty-bitty plea, and I’ll make it quick. I promise. Please, oh please, General Aderias… don’t kill me! I’m just a little boy!”
Aderias cackled with insane, childish laughter. The sound seized Darla’s waist, making her bladder weak.
The six guards gave loud, exaggerated laughs. Rexis swallowed, his face drawninto scowl. Even when he was a child, Rexis had always been stubborn. Darla had spent hours trying to teach him letters and how to read, but Rexis was no scholar.
The idea that Rexis would not live a month as a man grown threatened to bring a sob to her lips. Her hand went to her mouth to choke a sob, as icy tears ran down her cheeks. He had just celebrated his sixteenth winter; a handsome boy who had already broken the hearts of two or three towngirls in the Westmarks..
Rexis’s lips quivered, his left leg shook. Yet, when he spoke, his voice was dead calm. Eerie.
“Why don’t you execute me personally in a fair fight?”
The man named Aderias narrowed his eyes, his face full of scorn. He held out a tremulous, accusing finger. “You and me?!”
“Aye…” snapped Rexis. “Or are you too weak to fight your own battles?”
At that, the ‘General’ began to cackle. He gave his flail a spin. “Of course – of course! A fair fight! Just you and me…”
Rexis advanced slowly, sword at the ready. Aderias continued twirling his flail.
“Yep – just you and me. Nails to Knuckles, grit to bone. A duel that even the Gods will watch!”
Aderias threw his head back and laughed that insane, blood freezing noise.
“Nah – just kidding… Guards, kill him.”
He flipped a dismissive gesture with a limp wrist.
A ripple of twangs filled the air; each accompanied by a wet splat. Rexis lurched forward, then backward – three bolts striking him in his back, shoulder and side. His sword fell from his grip as he dropped to a knee. He screamed.
“God smitten wretch…” sneered Aderias, stomping over toward Rexis. “Making me come out… chasing you…… snow in my Gods Smitten shoes … how’s that… for fighting fair!”
Aderias planted a soft-looking, red shoe into Rexis’s chest. The boy toppled over, the wind exploding from his shuttering chest. His body crunched on the ground, his blood steaming and snapping in the snow.
He looked with wide, wild eyes as Aderias loomed over him. The metallic ball of his flail swung side to side, rattling like a cobra.
“Uuugh! You got blood all over me!”Aderias screeched. Aderias proceeded to stomp upon Rexis’s face. Steam rose from the golden-robed man. “ALL over ME… wanna fight me fair… fair’s fine with me… the stains will NEVER come out!”
He stomped down, his eyes alight with pleasure.
Insane laughter like Darla had never heard. The sound would drive her mad.
The flail took the place of his shoe; she now heard the crack of grinding bones as the solid metal ball of Aderias’s flail mangled Rexis’s once handsome face.
He cackled while flailing away, blood splattering him from head to toe. All the while, the pleasure behind his painted face made her think he was not a man, but a demon sent from the hells to punish them all.
Perhaps he was.
All Father protect me…
Try as she might, Darla couldn’t look away. Please All Father, do not let them see me. Do not let them see me.
“Oooh, I’m so dirty! Gonna have to throw these away! Wee hee hee!”
He continued to flail away, his eyes wide with pleasure.
She knew now was her only chance to escape. Soon, they would see her snow tracks.
For now, all the guards were focused on Aderias, some awed, some horrified, as the Imperial resolved his bloodlust.
Corliss mewled into her hand, a whisper lost over the whooshing, crunching and cackling madman.
Slowly she rose, finding her balance.
She forced herself to back away, slipping into the undergrowth, until – at last – the horrible scene was gone. Turning slowly, she aimed to head south…
… and nearly slammed into a solid metal breastplate.
Her breath caught in her throat – she would have screamed had it not.
The man glowered down the length of his nose. He stood more than a head taller than her, clad in full platemail the color of night.
He grasped her shoulders, one bare hand, the other metal and artificial. Behind him, the azure cloak of an Imperial billowed behind him.
The dark knight glanced down and saw the baby, still pressed closely to her chest.
She once more met his eyes. His face was that of the consummate soldier; the one Darla had always pictured in the stories. Square jaw with short, spiky black hair. He had a cruel countenance that was somehow not reflected in his eyes. His eyes were grey –but soft, and understanding.
He blinked slowly, and gently pushed her aside. Without giving her a second look, he continued forward toward Rexis’s body, and the Imperials who had slain him.
Only then did she realize she was holding her breath. She exhaled vehemently and raced south, not looking back once.
I'm looking for a few honest, between-the-eyes opinions on a prologue I wrote for my recently completed novel. Does it do what is intended? Do you want to read more? Or if this was the first few pages in a bookstore, would you put it down and move on?
This story takes place in the atermath of the Great War, where an empire that has risen from the ashes of a peaceful and just kingdom, one hellbent on tyranny and oppression. Yet though the war is over, Inquisitors continue to comb the land, seeking any royal descendent with even a drop of noble blood, and making them vanish into the night.
There's a prophecy in play - foretold by one of the Azure Empresses prophets: If a member of the previous royal family so much as sits upon her Throne, everything she has built will collapse.
Now, after 11 years, the line is all but extinct - in fact, only one remains with royal blood. A boy, raised on the frontier of the Empire by adopted parents and raised as a peasent, the truth of his line known to only a few. He is the only one who can bring down the Empire and redeem his people's kingdom.
Below is the prologue to the novel.
******
Darla Farrin
Behind them, the demons gave chase.
Branches slashed at her face as she staggered to keep up, her feet threatened to slide out from under her on the icy snow. The trees whisked by her as she was dragged through the dark forest.
Strong, steady fingers held her arm as her escort furiously beat the tangled, bare bushes ahead of them. Someone was grabbing her lungs and squeezing.
A wolf howled behind them. She clung tighter to the baby at her chest. One hand held her escort, the other wrapped around the babe, swaddled in cloth. Sensing fear, the babe mewled and buried his face into her thin, wool coat.
Darla felt her feet catch upon something hidden beneath the snow. Rexis, her escort, stopped moving, threw an arm around her, catching her stumble.
“Keep moving,” Rexis whispered harshly.
Her strength was at an end. They had been running for almost an hour.
“Take Corliss…” she pleaded, holding the babe to Rexis. “I can’t.”
“You will,” snapped Rexis, determination written on his youthful face. In the moonlight, she saw but the silhouette of his proud nose and sharp, pointed chin. So confident – so strong for a boy of six and ten.
He’s too young, she thought. He’s too young to die here…
Forcing herself to her feet, she continued to amble after him. The shadows swelled all around them, dancing as the moon shifted between the gnarled branches overhead.
She saw them in the distance– light. Torches that flickered like will o’ wisps amidst the tree trunks before them.
“Damn!” cursed Rexis, his breath billowing out his mouth in steamy gouts.. “They’ve cut us off.” He spun Darla toward him, gripping her shoulders. “You must turn south. Toward the Leche… find a fishing boat.”
“What about you?”
Behind them, another wolf cried – then a second. Lights followed the shouts of men, swinging pellmell through the shadowy trees.
“There’s no time..”
He shoved her away from him, turning back north.
“Get Corliss out of here – he’s all that matters. Go!”
Finding strength from somewhere, Darla grit her teeth and moved on. Corliss’s head bumped into her chest. She wanted to carry him to safety, but she turned back – she had to.
Two wolves had broken through the treeline, their snarling yellow teeth contrasted by moonlight. Their glowing red eyes fixed on Rexis. Darla felt her knees go weak; they would smell the child for sure.
You have to keep moving…she told herself. You have to!
Her legs refused to move. A cold wave of nausea overcame her; she fell to her knees. Corliss opened his mouth to cry; she slapped her hand over the babe’s mouth. She scrambled over her own legs, thrusting her back against a tree, the branches obscuring her from sight.
A loud shing cut through the air, the sound of metal on metal. Panting, she glanced around the trunk. Rexis had loosed his sword from his sheath; a large golden ******* sword of grafton craft. She knew it was Excidias, a sword forged for kings. Its legendary power was known to even the smallest child of the lowest castes.
The first wolf lunged for Rexis’s leg; he found nothing but air as Rexis skipped backward, crunching snow beneath his rapidly pumping boots.
He brought Excidas forward with a sudden whoosh, then a loud squish. Black blood covered the snow as the wolf’s head fell free from its body.
A shout came from the treeline. Rexis spun to his side, planting his back against a tree. A crossbow bolt struck the snow just next to him, kicking up ice. A second thunked into his tree, halfway to the feathers.
The second wolf sprang around the trunk, snapping and snarling. Rexis drove his foot into the wolf’s muzzle; the creature snapped on his boot. Both went down in a heep. Excidas fell from his hands, landing in the snow.
The wolf yanked at Rexis’s foot, loosing his boot and rending the stocking and skin beneath it. Though fear filled Rexis’s eyes, the boy’s hand was steady.
He reached for his other leg, drawing a smooth jeweled dirk from his boot sheath. With a yell of determination, he jammed the four inches of metal through the wolf’s left ear.
The creature let out a pitiful yelp as it staggered backwards, as though confused. It whimpered, gave its own leg a bite… then rolled onto the ground, unmoving.
He’s all right, Darla thought. She felt light-headed, as though drunk..
He’ll be all right. She knew it was time to get moving, but if she tried to move, she would be seen.
Another four whizzes; three flew over Rexis’s prone form while a third whipped through the foliage, the point shaving across the boy’s forehead, leaving a line of red.
He kicked furiously at the ground, one bare, bleeding foot digging into the snow. He pushed himself back against the tree, steam shooting from his mouth and nose.
“Okay, okay – hold fire. Hold fire,” called a taunting, arrogant voice from the bushes. “You two, with me.”
Darla watched with a sinking stomach as three men entered her field of sight.
Through the gloom, one man stood out like a candle flame. He was dressed in a solid golden robe that blew in the frigid wind. A glimmering, azure-blue scarf covered his neck and draped down his chest and back. An elaborate black chapeau covered his head, adding six inches to his height.
What she could see of his face reminded her of a lizard; pointed chin, skin stretched tightly over the bones. Lips like slugs seemed to writhe independently of the rest of his face. She realized the man was laughing silently. He held a massive flail in one hand, the bail swinging from its chain inches from the snowy ground.
“Come out, come out –little Lorinthal. There’s a good boy. We’re not gonna hurt you.”
Contrary to his sly words, Darla noticed both of the man’s guards had drawn their blades, and the golden man himself jiggled his flail with eager anticipation.
Rexis forced himself to his feet and stepped out of cover, his bloody toes leaving a faint dark trail in his wake. Darla gasped, nearly revealing her position. What was he doing? She barely restrained herself – she wanted to call out to him – tell him to run.
He picked up Excidias and held it tightly in both hands.
“What a bore!” wailed the lizard-like man, as though wounded.. “He stands so disgustingly nobly! He looks his executioner right in the eye! Where’s the fun in this?”
Darla watched as four more men stepped into view, surrounding Rexis. They had crossbows leveled toward him.
“I’m not afraid to die,” said Rexis, his voice barely above a whisper in the wind.
“Aw – not even a little bit?” asked the golden robe man. He began to circle Rexis like a vulture. “C’mon – gimmie one itty-bitty plea, and I’ll make it quick. I promise. Please, oh please, General Aderias… don’t kill me! I’m just a little boy!”
Aderias cackled with insane, childish laughter. The sound seized Darla’s waist, making her bladder weak.
The six guards gave loud, exaggerated laughs. Rexis swallowed, his face drawninto scowl. Even when he was a child, Rexis had always been stubborn. Darla had spent hours trying to teach him letters and how to read, but Rexis was no scholar.
The idea that Rexis would not live a month as a man grown threatened to bring a sob to her lips. Her hand went to her mouth to choke a sob, as icy tears ran down her cheeks. He had just celebrated his sixteenth winter; a handsome boy who had already broken the hearts of two or three towngirls in the Westmarks..
Rexis’s lips quivered, his left leg shook. Yet, when he spoke, his voice was dead calm. Eerie.
“Why don’t you execute me personally in a fair fight?”
The man named Aderias narrowed his eyes, his face full of scorn. He held out a tremulous, accusing finger. “You and me?!”
“Aye…” snapped Rexis. “Or are you too weak to fight your own battles?”
At that, the ‘General’ began to cackle. He gave his flail a spin. “Of course – of course! A fair fight! Just you and me…”
Rexis advanced slowly, sword at the ready. Aderias continued twirling his flail.
“Yep – just you and me. Nails to Knuckles, grit to bone. A duel that even the Gods will watch!”
Aderias threw his head back and laughed that insane, blood freezing noise.
“Nah – just kidding… Guards, kill him.”
He flipped a dismissive gesture with a limp wrist.
A ripple of twangs filled the air; each accompanied by a wet splat. Rexis lurched forward, then backward – three bolts striking him in his back, shoulder and side. His sword fell from his grip as he dropped to a knee. He screamed.
“God smitten wretch…” sneered Aderias, stomping over toward Rexis. “Making me come out… chasing you…… snow in my Gods Smitten shoes … how’s that… for fighting fair!”
Aderias planted a soft-looking, red shoe into Rexis’s chest. The boy toppled over, the wind exploding from his shuttering chest. His body crunched on the ground, his blood steaming and snapping in the snow.
He looked with wide, wild eyes as Aderias loomed over him. The metallic ball of his flail swung side to side, rattling like a cobra.
“Uuugh! You got blood all over me!”Aderias screeched. Aderias proceeded to stomp upon Rexis’s face. Steam rose from the golden-robed man. “ALL over ME… wanna fight me fair… fair’s fine with me… the stains will NEVER come out!”
He stomped down, his eyes alight with pleasure.
Insane laughter like Darla had never heard. The sound would drive her mad.
The flail took the place of his shoe; she now heard the crack of grinding bones as the solid metal ball of Aderias’s flail mangled Rexis’s once handsome face.
He cackled while flailing away, blood splattering him from head to toe. All the while, the pleasure behind his painted face made her think he was not a man, but a demon sent from the hells to punish them all.
Perhaps he was.
All Father protect me…
Try as she might, Darla couldn’t look away. Please All Father, do not let them see me. Do not let them see me.
“Oooh, I’m so dirty! Gonna have to throw these away! Wee hee hee!”
He continued to flail away, his eyes wide with pleasure.
She knew now was her only chance to escape. Soon, they would see her snow tracks.
For now, all the guards were focused on Aderias, some awed, some horrified, as the Imperial resolved his bloodlust.
Corliss mewled into her hand, a whisper lost over the whooshing, crunching and cackling madman.
Slowly she rose, finding her balance.
She forced herself to back away, slipping into the undergrowth, until – at last – the horrible scene was gone. Turning slowly, she aimed to head south…
… and nearly slammed into a solid metal breastplate.
Her breath caught in her throat – she would have screamed had it not.
The man glowered down the length of his nose. He stood more than a head taller than her, clad in full platemail the color of night.
He grasped her shoulders, one bare hand, the other metal and artificial. Behind him, the azure cloak of an Imperial billowed behind him.
The dark knight glanced down and saw the baby, still pressed closely to her chest.
She once more met his eyes. His face was that of the consummate soldier; the one Darla had always pictured in the stories. Square jaw with short, spiky black hair. He had a cruel countenance that was somehow not reflected in his eyes. His eyes were grey –but soft, and understanding.
He blinked slowly, and gently pushed her aside. Without giving her a second look, he continued forward toward Rexis’s body, and the Imperials who had slain him.
Only then did she realize she was holding her breath. She exhaled vehemently and raced south, not looking back once.
