This is my first critique request. It’s the third chapter of my novel, introducing a new place and new characters. I’ve really struggled with this chapter. The first two chapters are action-packed and this seems to me a bit flat in comparison. Basically, it’s setting the scene for the next chapter, where these people meet the locals. I’ve tried to strike a balance between some scenes to bring the characters to life and pushing things along because the chapter covers 4 to 5 months.
Please tell me what you think. Did you want to read on? Is there too much description? Not enough back story? How are the characters?[FONT="]
[/FONT]
CHAPTER 3
Sun Lake - Midsummer - late autumn, Year 31
Jak toiled up the slope in the heat of the early afternoon sun with no thought other than to keep going as long as possible, to distance himself from the town that had dashed his hopes. Numbed by a succession of disasters, griefs and unremitting effort, he trudged on and the survivors followed him as if they still believed in salvation. At the crest of the rise, he stopped, staring at the valley stretched before him. It was possibly two leagues wide and double that in length, the ground falling away in a series of green terraces. A third of the way along the valley, lush grass gave way to a lake stretching as far as he could see. The water was still, reflecting the deep blue of the almost cloudless sky, the bright green of the lowland grass, the varied green of the broadleaf woods covering the lower slopes and the dark evergreens framing the valley sides. Northwards, the lake narrowed between huge rock faces. Beyond that, barely perceptible in the distance, were the peaks of a vast mountain range. To his right and below, one of the broader terraces occupied a large bay in the cliffs. Partway along the bay, a waterfall dropped from the heights, splashing into a narrow stream, which flowed down towards the lake below.
Jak stood speechless, his eyes telling him this was worth looking at and his mind beginning to register that here was fertile land for pasture and for crops. Here were timber and stone for building. Here was the potential for fishing, hunting and gathering stores for the winter. Amid gasps of surprise and appreciation, everyone halted, as if they too had decided to rest, to absorb the view and the possibilities for the future that, at last, seemed to carry some hope.
He looked around for Seanna while others gathered in groups to discuss ideas and the herds grazed. Not far away, a woman with bright auburn hair was talking animatedly. She turned and smiled, making a gesture that embraced them all, and then she pointed to the valley. Jak grinned. Yes. At last! He punched the air.
Sandir came up to him, clapping his shoulder. ‘This is what we needed.’
Jak nodded, too full of conflicting emotions to speak. As people began to look to him for guidance, he strode towards Seanna and others took this as the signal to move on. Instead of the grumbles or the unthinking resignation accompanying recent starts, he noted renewed enthusiasm and a notable increase in speed as the various groupings descended towards the valley. Jak held Seanna’s hand and Sandir walked alongside.
By late afternoon they assembled in the sheltered bay under the cliffs. Still bathed in sunlight, it was sufficiently large to accommodate them all together with the herds, although these continued to make their own leisurely way towards the valley floor. Families began to set up temporary shelters for the night and to prepare the evening meal, while discussions continued. There was some preference for building their settlement on lower ground near the lake. However, the advantages of their current position and the thought of spring floods tipped the balance towards the higher site. Planning began in earnest.
Late that evening, Jak climbed the slope behind the camp to obtain an unimpeded view of the lake. The water shimmered in a light breeze, silvered by the light of the large single moon. The surrounding heights were dark peaks against its brightness. The muted roar of the waterfall and of the rushing stream partly drowned the homely sounds of people preparing to settle down for the night, and occasional lowing from the herds.
‘There you are,’ Seanna sounded both relieved and amused.
He placed his arm around her shoulders. ‘I’m just admiring the view.’
‘Of course you are and what could be better? I thought it would take a long time to become used to just one moon and, when we were on the plain, its size was dreadful. Here though, it seems not only right, it’s perfect.’
‘That sounds good to me. And let’s hope the experts were right when they said just one moon will mean a more stable world.’
Seanna said, ‘We need stability.’ She nestled against his side and was quiet for several minutes. Then she said, ‘Isn’t this a wonderful place to start our family again?’
He caught his breath and hugged her closer. They had not spoken of their loss; it was too recent and too painful, but she was right. Once their settlement was established, they must do their best to ensure future generations.
Seanna laughed softly as if she had read his mind. ‘No, Jak, not later, now.’
He made love to her that night and the following nights, not because he now had some vision of a future for them, but because their grief-wrought estrangement had been bitter.
She knew it was too late, but she tried nevertheless, forcing clenched teeth open to trickle the emetic onto slack tongues. The older boy eventually produced a painful spit of vomit mixed with blood. The girl’s breathing stopped and Seanna held her breath in dread, but the girl breathed again and then urinated, her water dark and foul smelling. The younger boy died quietly in his mother’s arms. Her eyes, dark and damp, met Seanna’s. ‘I should have watched them,’ she said. ‘They didn’t understand the risks.’
Seanna had warned everyone, but young ones forget easily and, in the struggle for survival, close supervision of children was a low priority. When she had time, she must identify the plant that caused this and mark it as dangerous.
‘Seanna, there you are!’ Elli came to a sliding stop, belatedly taking in the scene before her. ‘What’s wrong here?’
‘I wish I knew,’ Seanna said bitterly. ‘They ate some kind of berry.’ She took Elli’s arm and walked her outside, lowering her voice. ‘I’ve done all I can, which achieved nothing, except perhaps to make the ending harder on the children and harder on their mothers.’ A single tear leaked from the corner of her eye and she brushed it away. ‘Who else is ill?’
‘You’re needed here. We’ll manage.’
Seanna shook her head. ‘I can’t do anything for those two but, if I can help someone else, I won’t feel such a failure.’
Elli briefly gripped Seanna’s hand. ‘Several people complained of headaches and slight fever this morning. We thought they’d had too much sun and maybe over-indulged last night, but now more people are affected and the fever’s getting worse.’
‘Fever and headaches I can treat. Let’s hope that’s all it is.’
Seanna’s treatment reduced the fever and relieved the headaches but, despite her efforts, the sickness continued to spread. Soon, over half the workforce was affected. Rest seemed to be the best solution but most continued to work, with fatal consequences. As the death toll mounted, few argued against enforced rest, but recovery was slow and many remained weak and listless with persistent and painful coughs.
The work parties were so reduced as to be almost ineffective. Dennet scrapped his building schedules and they concentrated on the essentials: barns for the animals, for fodder and food storage. As the weather worsened and animals were brought inside overnight, sick and convalescent were squeezed into haylofts and the few completed cabins, so they, at least, had adequate shelter. Given time, they would build sufficient homes but, in the meanwhile, those who laboured all day in the biting wind spent the nights huddled under makeshift roofs stretched over part-built walls. Fresh coughs and colds added to the misery.
‘Curse them!’ Jak whispered.
Seanna rolled over and propped herself up on her elbow, hugging the blankets around her body in an attempt to retain some warmth.
No one else had stirred and the only sound in the makeshift shelter was the wind swirling gustily around the settlement. For the last five days, it had driven through any unchinked gaps, caused tarpaulins to flap in spite of taut guy ropes, and blasted sleet into unprotected faces as they attempted to complete at least two more buildings. They would not survive; they had run out of time. He had failed them.
Seanna touched Jak’s shoulder but he would not look at her. ‘Curse them!’ he said again. ‘Curse the bastards who condemned us to this.’
‘It was our choice to come. We knew the risks.’ Seanna knew that was not what Jak meant.
‘What would it have cost them to give us shelter, to help us to build? Even if they didn’t want us within the walls of their safe little town with its fancy stone buildings and its trees and . . .’ He ran out of words. ‘Why did they condemn us to this?’
Please tell me what you think. Did you want to read on? Is there too much description? Not enough back story? How are the characters?[FONT="]
[/FONT]
CHAPTER 3
Sun Lake - Midsummer - late autumn, Year 31
Jak toiled up the slope in the heat of the early afternoon sun with no thought other than to keep going as long as possible, to distance himself from the town that had dashed his hopes. Numbed by a succession of disasters, griefs and unremitting effort, he trudged on and the survivors followed him as if they still believed in salvation. At the crest of the rise, he stopped, staring at the valley stretched before him. It was possibly two leagues wide and double that in length, the ground falling away in a series of green terraces. A third of the way along the valley, lush grass gave way to a lake stretching as far as he could see. The water was still, reflecting the deep blue of the almost cloudless sky, the bright green of the lowland grass, the varied green of the broadleaf woods covering the lower slopes and the dark evergreens framing the valley sides. Northwards, the lake narrowed between huge rock faces. Beyond that, barely perceptible in the distance, were the peaks of a vast mountain range. To his right and below, one of the broader terraces occupied a large bay in the cliffs. Partway along the bay, a waterfall dropped from the heights, splashing into a narrow stream, which flowed down towards the lake below.
Jak stood speechless, his eyes telling him this was worth looking at and his mind beginning to register that here was fertile land for pasture and for crops. Here were timber and stone for building. Here was the potential for fishing, hunting and gathering stores for the winter. Amid gasps of surprise and appreciation, everyone halted, as if they too had decided to rest, to absorb the view and the possibilities for the future that, at last, seemed to carry some hope.
He looked around for Seanna while others gathered in groups to discuss ideas and the herds grazed. Not far away, a woman with bright auburn hair was talking animatedly. She turned and smiled, making a gesture that embraced them all, and then she pointed to the valley. Jak grinned. Yes. At last! He punched the air.
Sandir came up to him, clapping his shoulder. ‘This is what we needed.’
Jak nodded, too full of conflicting emotions to speak. As people began to look to him for guidance, he strode towards Seanna and others took this as the signal to move on. Instead of the grumbles or the unthinking resignation accompanying recent starts, he noted renewed enthusiasm and a notable increase in speed as the various groupings descended towards the valley. Jak held Seanna’s hand and Sandir walked alongside.
By late afternoon they assembled in the sheltered bay under the cliffs. Still bathed in sunlight, it was sufficiently large to accommodate them all together with the herds, although these continued to make their own leisurely way towards the valley floor. Families began to set up temporary shelters for the night and to prepare the evening meal, while discussions continued. There was some preference for building their settlement on lower ground near the lake. However, the advantages of their current position and the thought of spring floods tipped the balance towards the higher site. Planning began in earnest.
Late that evening, Jak climbed the slope behind the camp to obtain an unimpeded view of the lake. The water shimmered in a light breeze, silvered by the light of the large single moon. The surrounding heights were dark peaks against its brightness. The muted roar of the waterfall and of the rushing stream partly drowned the homely sounds of people preparing to settle down for the night, and occasional lowing from the herds.
‘There you are,’ Seanna sounded both relieved and amused.
He placed his arm around her shoulders. ‘I’m just admiring the view.’
‘Of course you are and what could be better? I thought it would take a long time to become used to just one moon and, when we were on the plain, its size was dreadful. Here though, it seems not only right, it’s perfect.’
‘That sounds good to me. And let’s hope the experts were right when they said just one moon will mean a more stable world.’
Seanna said, ‘We need stability.’ She nestled against his side and was quiet for several minutes. Then she said, ‘Isn’t this a wonderful place to start our family again?’
He caught his breath and hugged her closer. They had not spoken of their loss; it was too recent and too painful, but she was right. Once their settlement was established, they must do their best to ensure future generations.
Seanna laughed softly as if she had read his mind. ‘No, Jak, not later, now.’
He made love to her that night and the following nights, not because he now had some vision of a future for them, but because their grief-wrought estrangement had been bitter.
*
She knew it was too late, but she tried nevertheless, forcing clenched teeth open to trickle the emetic onto slack tongues. The older boy eventually produced a painful spit of vomit mixed with blood. The girl’s breathing stopped and Seanna held her breath in dread, but the girl breathed again and then urinated, her water dark and foul smelling. The younger boy died quietly in his mother’s arms. Her eyes, dark and damp, met Seanna’s. ‘I should have watched them,’ she said. ‘They didn’t understand the risks.’
Seanna had warned everyone, but young ones forget easily and, in the struggle for survival, close supervision of children was a low priority. When she had time, she must identify the plant that caused this and mark it as dangerous.
‘Seanna, there you are!’ Elli came to a sliding stop, belatedly taking in the scene before her. ‘What’s wrong here?’
‘I wish I knew,’ Seanna said bitterly. ‘They ate some kind of berry.’ She took Elli’s arm and walked her outside, lowering her voice. ‘I’ve done all I can, which achieved nothing, except perhaps to make the ending harder on the children and harder on their mothers.’ A single tear leaked from the corner of her eye and she brushed it away. ‘Who else is ill?’
‘You’re needed here. We’ll manage.’
Seanna shook her head. ‘I can’t do anything for those two but, if I can help someone else, I won’t feel such a failure.’
Elli briefly gripped Seanna’s hand. ‘Several people complained of headaches and slight fever this morning. We thought they’d had too much sun and maybe over-indulged last night, but now more people are affected and the fever’s getting worse.’
‘Fever and headaches I can treat. Let’s hope that’s all it is.’
Seanna’s treatment reduced the fever and relieved the headaches but, despite her efforts, the sickness continued to spread. Soon, over half the workforce was affected. Rest seemed to be the best solution but most continued to work, with fatal consequences. As the death toll mounted, few argued against enforced rest, but recovery was slow and many remained weak and listless with persistent and painful coughs.
The work parties were so reduced as to be almost ineffective. Dennet scrapped his building schedules and they concentrated on the essentials: barns for the animals, for fodder and food storage. As the weather worsened and animals were brought inside overnight, sick and convalescent were squeezed into haylofts and the few completed cabins, so they, at least, had adequate shelter. Given time, they would build sufficient homes but, in the meanwhile, those who laboured all day in the biting wind spent the nights huddled under makeshift roofs stretched over part-built walls. Fresh coughs and colds added to the misery.
*
‘Curse them!’ Jak whispered.
Seanna rolled over and propped herself up on her elbow, hugging the blankets around her body in an attempt to retain some warmth.
No one else had stirred and the only sound in the makeshift shelter was the wind swirling gustily around the settlement. For the last five days, it had driven through any unchinked gaps, caused tarpaulins to flap in spite of taut guy ropes, and blasted sleet into unprotected faces as they attempted to complete at least two more buildings. They would not survive; they had run out of time. He had failed them.
Seanna touched Jak’s shoulder but he would not look at her. ‘Curse them!’ he said again. ‘Curse the bastards who condemned us to this.’
‘It was our choice to come. We knew the risks.’ Seanna knew that was not what Jak meant.
‘What would it have cost them to give us shelter, to help us to build? Even if they didn’t want us within the walls of their safe little town with its fancy stone buildings and its trees and . . .’ He ran out of words. ‘Why did they condemn us to this?’
Last edited by a moderator:
