Esfires
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- Mar 6, 2012
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This is the last part of Chapter Three of my WIP. You can find Chapter One here:
http://www.sffchronicles.co.uk/forum/536996-chapter-one-900-words.html (Check the end of the thread for a revised version)
There isn't too much you need to know for this scene as it's still early on in the book and is fairly self-explanatory. Lieutenant Mathews is part of a company of soldiers wintering in the town, and is boarding with the Gates family. We met him in Chapter Two, and established that he is a little quiet and awkward. I believe all the other characters were introduced in Chapter One.
This is the second Chapter from Elizabeth's POV. I'm trying to drop in a little exposition, particularly in the dialogue, as well as some description of the relations within the family. I want Lieutenant Mathews to be a little evasive about his time in the east, but it's not incredibly necessary that the reader pick up on that now. I just want it to be there for those who would catch that sort of thing.
After you read it, let me know if you understood what happened with the fork-dropping incident. I'm not sure if I got that across clearly.
He was still there when Elizabeth returned hours later to call him for dinner. The bag had been unpacked. The empty sack had been folded neatly on the bed and his sword leaned against the far wall, but the man himself sat just as she had left him.
She informed him that dinner was waiting. He murmured an acknowledgement and stood, brushing his already clean coat before following her down the stairs.
Simon was already in the dining room when they arrived. He trailed in Mrs. Hill’s wake, hands snaking out to sample the food as she brought it in from the kitchen.
“Hands off, you little vermin,” the housekeeper said as he tried to sneak a finger past her elbow to the large dish she carried.
Elizabeth sucked in a sharp breath as her brother nearly upended the lamp that flickered at the center of the table. “Simon, please.”
He brought a gravy-covered finger to his mouth. “I’m starving.”
“Fourteen years you been eatin’ from my table,” said Mrs. Hill, “and you ain’t starved for a one of ‘em. I suspect you can manage to last a few more minutes.” Despite her chiding, the housekeeper allowed his next intrusion to slide past her defenses unopposed.
It was an old game between them, one that only persisted because both sides got a taste of victory every once in a while. Elizabeth wouldn’t change it even if she could. She took her seat along one side of the table as the silent officer sat across from her.
“Simon, seat yourself,” said her father as he entered the room, and her brother quickly took the chair next to the officer.
Her father’s eyes were red, tired. He had rolled back the sleeves of his white shirt above his hairy forearms, but it wasn’t enough to hide the dark stain on one of his elbows. Elizabeth suspected that the knees of his trousers bore similar marks and that, if she were to walk out tomorrow morning to the great oak behind the house, the winter honeysuckle growing around the base of her mother’s headstone would appear newly tended.
The meal commenced in silence. Her father was lost in his own thoughts, and from what Elizabeth had seen of the officer, he regarded conversation as a duty more than a pastime. She would probably only make him more uncomfortable if she forced him to speak.
As Mrs. Hill brought the last course to the table, her father finally emerged from his musings. “John told me some disturbing news,” he said. “About the caravans coming through the Hills.”
Elizabeth never liked talking about business, but she was grateful that her father had at least found something else to occupy his mind. “Mr. Williams is a nice man,” she said, “but he’s too gullible. He’s always being disturbed by one thing or another.”
“He seemed awfully worried this time,” her father replied. “Something about the Hillfolk tightening up the passes.”
“He probably heard it from Mr. Newcastle,” she said. “He delights in dire news, especially when he can spread it to someone like John.”
“But he hates being proven wrong,” her father pointed out as he brought his fork to his mouth. “He doesn’t spread rumors unless they have more than a little weight.”
“You sound as bad as John,” she teased. “It’s still just a rumor, isn’t it?”
“Mr. Mathews,” her father said, returning his attention to his meal. “Your Major Price tells me that you spent some time out east.”
The lieutenant dropped his fork at Elijah’s question. He bent to retrieve it before responding. “Only a little. I’ve spent most of my time in Maridon, sir, where I was born.” He prepared to stab at his food with the fork, but paused and sent a guilty glance around the table.
“Well, surely you’ve heard something about the passes,” Elijah said. “More than has come in on the barges, at least.”
Simon noisily sucked his fingers clean as her father finished speaking. Elizabeth stretched out her foot to give him a gentle kick under the table. He ignored the nudge and continued smacking at his fingers until he caught sight of her glare and discretely made use of his napkin.
She looked back at the officer. His face flushed and he quickly wiped the fallen fork with his napkin and returned it to its place on the table. Unable to finish eating without it, he simply folded his hands in his lap and said, “I wouldn’t know anything about it, sir. I was sent back to the capital nearly a year ago.”
“Still,” her father said, looking up from his plate, “you must have interacted at least a little with the Hillfolk. All of my news is second hand, at best. You’ve actually met them.”
“Only briefly,” the lieutenant said. “Most Dunlanders we came in contact with were regular army or traders, nearly all from the coast. They’re as much strangers to the Hills as we are.” He dropped his gaze to the table. “I think the Hillfolk hardly consider themselves to be Dunlanders at all, and the rest of Dunland seems to share the sentiment.”
He almost seemed embarrassed, but Elizabeth couldn’t decide if it was because he didn’t have more to tell or because he had revealed so much already. “Would they really cut off traffic through the Hills,” she asked, “when so many people rely on the passes?”
“I can’t imagine so,” he said, raising his eyes to meet hers. “They wouldn’t have anything to gain from it. The Hillfolk have a reputation for being pigheaded, but they’re not stupid. They may be protective of their mountains, but most of their coin comes from the tariffs they take from the caravans.”
“Let us hope they aren’t that stupid,” added her father. “Sending goods down through the Gap is three times as expensive. If they shut up the passes then somebody is sure to try to open them again, whether it’s us or the Dunlanders themselves.”
Simon perked up at Elijah’s statement. “Would there be a war?”
Elizabeth frowned at him. “Simon, don’t sound so hopeful.”
He turned to the officer at his side. “Could I join the army?”
“Simon,” Elijah began.
“Do you think I’m old enough?”
“Simon!” Her father extended his arm, pointing through the doorway toward the stairs leading to the second floor.
“But-”
“Now,” Elijah said. There was no question of disobedience in his voice.
Elizabeth bowed her head as Simon slunk from the table. Her father resumed his meal, but the discussion was over.
The officer merely sat and stared at his plate, looking for all the world as if he wished to be anywhere else.
http://www.sffchronicles.co.uk/forum/536996-chapter-one-900-words.html (Check the end of the thread for a revised version)
There isn't too much you need to know for this scene as it's still early on in the book and is fairly self-explanatory. Lieutenant Mathews is part of a company of soldiers wintering in the town, and is boarding with the Gates family. We met him in Chapter Two, and established that he is a little quiet and awkward. I believe all the other characters were introduced in Chapter One.
This is the second Chapter from Elizabeth's POV. I'm trying to drop in a little exposition, particularly in the dialogue, as well as some description of the relations within the family. I want Lieutenant Mathews to be a little evasive about his time in the east, but it's not incredibly necessary that the reader pick up on that now. I just want it to be there for those who would catch that sort of thing.
After you read it, let me know if you understood what happened with the fork-dropping incident. I'm not sure if I got that across clearly.
He was still there when Elizabeth returned hours later to call him for dinner. The bag had been unpacked. The empty sack had been folded neatly on the bed and his sword leaned against the far wall, but the man himself sat just as she had left him.
She informed him that dinner was waiting. He murmured an acknowledgement and stood, brushing his already clean coat before following her down the stairs.
Simon was already in the dining room when they arrived. He trailed in Mrs. Hill’s wake, hands snaking out to sample the food as she brought it in from the kitchen.
“Hands off, you little vermin,” the housekeeper said as he tried to sneak a finger past her elbow to the large dish she carried.
Elizabeth sucked in a sharp breath as her brother nearly upended the lamp that flickered at the center of the table. “Simon, please.”
He brought a gravy-covered finger to his mouth. “I’m starving.”
“Fourteen years you been eatin’ from my table,” said Mrs. Hill, “and you ain’t starved for a one of ‘em. I suspect you can manage to last a few more minutes.” Despite her chiding, the housekeeper allowed his next intrusion to slide past her defenses unopposed.
It was an old game between them, one that only persisted because both sides got a taste of victory every once in a while. Elizabeth wouldn’t change it even if she could. She took her seat along one side of the table as the silent officer sat across from her.
“Simon, seat yourself,” said her father as he entered the room, and her brother quickly took the chair next to the officer.
Her father’s eyes were red, tired. He had rolled back the sleeves of his white shirt above his hairy forearms, but it wasn’t enough to hide the dark stain on one of his elbows. Elizabeth suspected that the knees of his trousers bore similar marks and that, if she were to walk out tomorrow morning to the great oak behind the house, the winter honeysuckle growing around the base of her mother’s headstone would appear newly tended.
The meal commenced in silence. Her father was lost in his own thoughts, and from what Elizabeth had seen of the officer, he regarded conversation as a duty more than a pastime. She would probably only make him more uncomfortable if she forced him to speak.
As Mrs. Hill brought the last course to the table, her father finally emerged from his musings. “John told me some disturbing news,” he said. “About the caravans coming through the Hills.”
Elizabeth never liked talking about business, but she was grateful that her father had at least found something else to occupy his mind. “Mr. Williams is a nice man,” she said, “but he’s too gullible. He’s always being disturbed by one thing or another.”
“He seemed awfully worried this time,” her father replied. “Something about the Hillfolk tightening up the passes.”
“He probably heard it from Mr. Newcastle,” she said. “He delights in dire news, especially when he can spread it to someone like John.”
“But he hates being proven wrong,” her father pointed out as he brought his fork to his mouth. “He doesn’t spread rumors unless they have more than a little weight.”
“You sound as bad as John,” she teased. “It’s still just a rumor, isn’t it?”
“Mr. Mathews,” her father said, returning his attention to his meal. “Your Major Price tells me that you spent some time out east.”
The lieutenant dropped his fork at Elijah’s question. He bent to retrieve it before responding. “Only a little. I’ve spent most of my time in Maridon, sir, where I was born.” He prepared to stab at his food with the fork, but paused and sent a guilty glance around the table.
“Well, surely you’ve heard something about the passes,” Elijah said. “More than has come in on the barges, at least.”
Simon noisily sucked his fingers clean as her father finished speaking. Elizabeth stretched out her foot to give him a gentle kick under the table. He ignored the nudge and continued smacking at his fingers until he caught sight of her glare and discretely made use of his napkin.
She looked back at the officer. His face flushed and he quickly wiped the fallen fork with his napkin and returned it to its place on the table. Unable to finish eating without it, he simply folded his hands in his lap and said, “I wouldn’t know anything about it, sir. I was sent back to the capital nearly a year ago.”
“Still,” her father said, looking up from his plate, “you must have interacted at least a little with the Hillfolk. All of my news is second hand, at best. You’ve actually met them.”
“Only briefly,” the lieutenant said. “Most Dunlanders we came in contact with were regular army or traders, nearly all from the coast. They’re as much strangers to the Hills as we are.” He dropped his gaze to the table. “I think the Hillfolk hardly consider themselves to be Dunlanders at all, and the rest of Dunland seems to share the sentiment.”
He almost seemed embarrassed, but Elizabeth couldn’t decide if it was because he didn’t have more to tell or because he had revealed so much already. “Would they really cut off traffic through the Hills,” she asked, “when so many people rely on the passes?”
“I can’t imagine so,” he said, raising his eyes to meet hers. “They wouldn’t have anything to gain from it. The Hillfolk have a reputation for being pigheaded, but they’re not stupid. They may be protective of their mountains, but most of their coin comes from the tariffs they take from the caravans.”
“Let us hope they aren’t that stupid,” added her father. “Sending goods down through the Gap is three times as expensive. If they shut up the passes then somebody is sure to try to open them again, whether it’s us or the Dunlanders themselves.”
Simon perked up at Elijah’s statement. “Would there be a war?”
Elizabeth frowned at him. “Simon, don’t sound so hopeful.”
He turned to the officer at his side. “Could I join the army?”
“Simon,” Elijah began.
“Do you think I’m old enough?”
“Simon!” Her father extended his arm, pointing through the doorway toward the stairs leading to the second floor.
“But-”
“Now,” Elijah said. There was no question of disobedience in his voice.
Elizabeth bowed her head as Simon slunk from the table. Her father resumed his meal, but the discussion was over.
The officer merely sat and stared at his plate, looking for all the world as if he wished to be anywhere else.
