Birthday Sale on all of my novels

Hello, Time for my yearly birthday sale. Monday June 22 is a special birthday for I have reached a milestone. 

Everyone of my E-books is a $1.11 off (No I am not a 111 years old. It isn't that milestone yet :) ) 

And all of my paper novels are two dollars off-except for one which they only allowed me to reduce 1.44 . They will be on sale until June 27.

Whatever the price they are fun reads with adventure, mysteries, suspense and action. Western short stories, Urban Fantasy, steampunk, Science Fiction adventure. 

Here is my Amazon author's page https://www.amazon.com/L-E-Doggett/e/B01C58R1II…

and https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/%22L.%20E.%20Doggett%22…

SaturdayScenes July 20 Four tales elsewhere

           #saturdayscene  July 20 ’19 

I am cheating a bit on this SaturdayScene and doing a repeat from last Aug. Which is why I added the year to the date. Most everyone who does read these most probably has not seen these already. If so please excuse the repeat. This set of four flash tales take place in other places. The first is Africa, second is somewhere around Norway and the North Pole, third is Africa too-a different part and time than the first story, and last Japan. You probably have seen a longer version of the viking story but still there other I don’t recall posting here before. As I implied before if I am wrong excuse me.   But do not forget my novels for sell, four great adventures, fun to read.  

So without further adeu here is story one:

The Tower

           The boy and girl, tall and lanky, even though in their early teens, walked toward the end of the hills. For now they were called Esiankiki and Loiyan, but that would change as they grew. 

     Both felt not right for the mountains they were leaving were strange to them. Not at all like the Savanna. They feet ached from the hard rough surfaces they had walked on. 

     They stood the beginning of one side of the part of the Savanna where they came from. The trees they knew still grew here and some of the animals they killed or competed with came here too. The air felt warm as it should. The scents of grass, the droppings of lions, and desert air all grew as they walked closer to the natural border. Loiyan thought he heard the cough of a lion far in the distance, but little of any other sounds. 

      It would be good to get back to the foods they knew, bread made from the grains they had grown with.

     Before going home though both had wanted to see the Tower. It looked manmade shape under many and many years of grime, but very few stories passed down to the next generation told of it. No one knew when it had been built or why. To worship the Red god or the Black one maybe. Loiyan thought it was something the evil Red god would like. Esiankiki wasn’t sure. It had different levels, each one with what looked like walls that swooped up to a sharp point. The oi-boni had never restricted the Masai from going there but he had given warnings, as far as they knew no one had climbed to the top-fear maybe or that it was just different?

      Both had some honey to eat so they did not worry about food. Water might be a problem later. It took them two hours or more to get to the tower. Up close it looked both man made and natural. Neither knew how that could be but each agreed on that.

     Loiyan placed the palm of his hand on it: rough like the huge rocks they had just climbed over but warm. Esiankiki placed her ear to it. She thought she heard something but so faint she couldn’t be sure: she said that she didn’t like the roughness against her ear’s skin. She pulled Loiyan back when he wanted to taste it with his tongue. Too rough for that she said. 

     Around the other side they saw a way in, or up. What could be very old steps, worn smooth by feet and weather. With very careful steps they went up. The first level had a place to walk but they couldn’t see over the edge of the wall even as tall as they were. The same with the second level. As far as they could find there was no way in, and no places to sacrifice offerings mixed with grass. Maybe that was on the top. But once they reached as far as they could go still nothing. The inside of the walls looked and felt smooth. The bottom had smelled of age and something neither one liked. But up here only air. They saw lions and tall grass further on, for the walls had grown shorter on the way up.

     No blacken areas with very old ash so no sacrifices up here either. So what was this used for? To watch the lions, to see if any enemies were coming? The People did sometimes fight. 

    They examed the walls carefully for long minutes. Loiyan found lines in the inner wall like a doorway, The People used curtains over doorways, but they knew others had wood and metal doors, some with metal and what was called glass. They both had been to cities, ridden in cars and a train. They had seen a helicopter land. That had been noisy, worse than a very large pride of lions Loiyan had been trapped in when very small. All of the beasts roaring at once had deafen him. The helicopter’s noise had been louder than a big rain storm with lightning and thunder. But if this was a door he nor Esiankiki had seen any way to open it. He tried to slide his fingernails into the cracks but something stopped them. Esiankiki noticed the indentations near waist level on one level, but they didn’t seem to do anything. Loiyan who had the hearing of a warrior thought he heard clicks from inside when he pressed then indentations, but nothing happened. Both felt tiny vibrations in the door but they did nothing. Esiankiki thought she tasted in the air something like what flavors the air when lightning strikes. The space in-between the lines grew warmer but only a little. That made no sense. 

    After a while they gave up and walked down. Back at the bottom they saw more lines in the tower but they were shaped wrong for a doorway for any person. And they all went into the ground. So they knew the Tower went deeper like a huge rock. These doors looked like something that slid out maybe. Esiankiki stated that she wasn’t sure why she thought of that. Loiyan thought it would be something larger than a hut if so. With a final shrug-that the People had picked up from the shorter white visitors-they left and finally headed home. The People or someone else had lived in the Tower many many ages ago, they were now sure of but who? And how did they get the doors to open? They would never know. Maybe The People had climbed those steps and but they came away with more questions that could not be answered so they either forgot them or decided not to bother others with unanswerable questions.  Maybe when Loiyan became a warrior he would ask and come back with others who knew more than he did. For now though they would just go home, it had been too long since they had seen family. 

end

The Last Viking

The Viking looked over the side of his ship. The mountains rose out of the ocean, higher than he would want to climb anymore. The day looked cloudy and cold even though he was viking and therefore used to cold. While not as deep as in some places the water here was still deep enough to hide monsters, or even an angry whale. 

   Askell glanced along his longship. The wood looked aged, it had nicks, claw marks, and blacken areas. That last fire they barely got out in time. He supposed he could get one of the new style of ships with multiple masts but he, and his crew, were too old to change that much. 

   He stroked his grey beard, looked down. 

   "To port now!” He shouted

   Something scraped the hull as the longship turned too slowly. 

   So this ocean was not deep, those rocks were hard to see. Movement under the water, Oh oh, something huge lived down there. 

   It neared the surface and before he could cry out for them to raise oars, three of them hit it. It thrashed, caused water to splash into the longboat. Cold water that soaked their footwear. The oars didn’t break, thank Odin.

    He snarled, spat bile out. Nothing would sink them in this cruise.

     Once the water settled again he ordered them to head for the distant bit of land. It had what looked like a strip of land they could beach the longship. Further in lay the base of a tall cliff They might be able to build housing right next to the cliff and have fish, birds and seals and maybe even smaller whales to eating and to use for tools and clothes. 

   He looked around. No one would be chasing them this far, but if they did they would pay for that with their blood, for his crew still kept their weapons sharp.

   Askell double checked the depth and for any other movements. He would have to be on his toes to make sure nothing else hindered them.      

end

Congratulations 

      Jacob snarled, he wouldn’t let them smash him into the mud. He shoved against one man the same age as himself. That worthy went “ufff” as another two bodies jumped on top of the others. Some of them let out exclamations too. His lighter brown skin could easily be identified among their black skin. They all were from around here while he came from somewhere different.

     He twisted his body one way then another, kept his legs moving so they couldn’t be grabbed. He sneezed: someone wore an awful cologne. Probably Kensu. 

    Someone used both hands to shove him harder, forced his face toward the mud patch on the parade ground. The whole area was plain dirt, not even grass. Mud holes were not rare even though most of it was dry dirt. Light metal bleachers filled one side. But they would be of no advantage to Jacob, nor would the various light and speaker poles around the area.

    Jacob surged his back upward to flip off whoever was on his back. It didn’t work. He thought it was time to start punching and jabbing. A second thought, no one used fists, hands or feet as weapons. They all depended on brute strength, and their weight, to get his face into the mud. 

    Their grunts and heavy breathing filled his ears, but no name calling or obcentaites, which surprised him. He managed to get his feet and hands on the ground: one hand and knee splashed the mud around. He shoved upward and managed to stand as his attackers fell off. However his victory lasted one-second for someone tackled him and rolled with him toward the mud. Kerrich, he thought for. Sweat matted his hair, the clothes of those that touched him were clammy with it. He spat out the mud in his mouth-at least they used fresh water and mostly clean dirt.

    Again he tried to get his hands under him so he could shove off the ground, but two more joined in the, what was still called, a dog pile. His face inched closer to the mud. No! These guys weighed a lot even though he had proven himself the better, stronger fighter. 

    With a snarl he surged upward, but only moved an inch, more poundage landed on him. He could smell the mud, at least it seemed to be just water and dirt. Before he could take a breath his face smashed down into the mud. It filled his mouth when he breathed in, splashed up his cheeks, got in his ears and hair. A roar of victory followed that and with a suddenness that surprised him all of the weight vanished. 

    He jumped up, turned to face them. Eight young men stood in badly formed semi-circle. Their formation instructor would not be happy with that a part of his mind said.

    Half of them looked unsure, would he attack them?  

    The leader stepped forward but only so close. 

    He said, “Congratulations, you will be the first cadet to become Captain.”

    Jacob blinked, they knew that? 

   “We honor you with our traditions.”

   He nodded, for he knew of this one where they congratulated another cadet to raise in rank, but never expected to have it done to him. They had never really excepted him. 

   He spat though, to get the taste of the mud out of his mouth.

   Jon-Wel said, “The commissary has a new batch of Mars Malt beer. You can wash out your mouth with a bottle. I will buy the first one.”

   Jacob didn’t know if that was part of the tradition or because Jacob didn’t usually have much money unlike them. But…

   He smiled, “I would be happy to wash the mud out that way,”

  Some of the men looked relieved. 

  The leader nodded and motioned toward the store. 

  Jacob thought, He may never be one of them, but he had their respect and well wishes, that was good.    

end

            

The Way Stop Castle

Jounn turned in his saddle to face his friend Brock. He felt glad they had stopped. The horses hoofs had been stirring the sand dust. It made his mouth dry when he breathed it in, not to mention making him cough.

          “There is the castle I told you about.”

          After he spoke he looked back down from the small dune they both had stopped on. Night covered the desert which is what they wanted. It cooled quickly here after the sun went down. But the dark made it better not to be seen.

           The castle, a ruled by a neutral Duke far from England, sat on a hill. The neutrality though will probably have to change to one or the other roses, he thought. The structure looked gray tall and narrow with a full moon behind it. A village in front of it. Guards walked the wall. The gate looked still open even this late.

           Brock said, “That wall, most be a good ten feet hight and what? Three feet thick. It would hold an army for a while. If one came here at all.” 

           “I am not fearful of armies, but of sudden changes of neutral Dukes. Or of an assassin.”

          “You think they would really send one after us?”

          Jounn shrugged, “They have done it before. During the last bit of fighting, which I can barely recall, my cousin was challenged to a duel by someone who turned out to be en expert swordsman. After the duel the man disappeared but left a rose. I have heard of that all my life with warnings to be watchful.” 

          “But if you don’t trust the Duke, why stay here?”

          “We are not staying here. We present ourselves and the Duke gives us a suite of rooms. He knows me so will not think it strange that I would come here. We say we need to mediate over the conflict so we need to stay in the rooms without being disturbed. Once settled we change to less conspicuous clothes, bathe and be rid of traveling odors then head down to the stables. In my last two visits I learned that there is a back gate through the wall. It is small but a horse can get through. We get our horses and leave that way. Even if a guard sees us and if he should report it the Duke would be still able to say that he gave us rooms and then we left without even a proper thank you or good bye. That he knows not when, or where we went. Or even if we left the castle. We could be hiding among the vassals and others that live here.”

          “Do you think that will work?”

          “I believe it will, but we still need to be on our toes and watch. We will be able to get supplies for a long trek through the desert, but we hide our trail and head South, which might further confuse anyone that is sent after us.”

         “Well, that plan is better than no plan, or just running.”

        “As I said we will watch and keep our hands close to our swords and daggers. If he portrays us we will sell our lives dearly. If he is still neutral than we go as I said and leave him with an excuse.”

         His friend nodded and said, “Than we should make sure we have no roses on us then he can say he did not realize we had chosen sides.”

         Jounn nodded, picked off a brooch off of his chest, while his friend ripped off a fastener on his cloak, and started his horse down the dune. 

end 

    

Way of the Samurai 

      “You are late.”

    “I know, Father, I have no excuse,” even though I did-saying good bye and finding my round hat had not been easy. I had tied my waist long hair into one braid. My long dress would be help against the cold. I wore a lighter outfit under it, if it warmed. I suspect that my Father had on something under his armor. His helmet with the grimace face hid his face as it should. He wore his two favorite swords and I am sure a third. He stood between the posts of the gate as the sun sank. He looked magnificent.  

     He grunted and nodded once. 

     Our road led between two tall strands of bamboo over a rough surface. No one had come this way in years so they had not kept it up. The wind blew leaves around.

    Father was a hard man, but a tough, experienced, brave and honorable warrior. He showed his love in training me well so I would be able to defend myself and in teaching me honor. I have only the one sword though. I am not a Samurai so can not wear the armor but I am not sure I would want to.

     The air smelled strongly of bamboo and growing things. Maybe we should take some of the shoots to eat later, but Father is ready to leave now. 

     I sighted, I have already defended myself. That group of three thieves had shown surprise when their heads rolled to the ground. The last one had been a fair fighter-he lasted five swings. And months later, the first man I had killed for trying to dishonor me-he had been someone important. Later when questioned Father acted like he didn’t know who had killed him. 

     Now we go-to somewhere else. He has not told me where but I trust him. Maybe it was to protect me, or because he was tired of this place and just wanted to go to some place new, or he knew of something bad coming to this area soon. He would train me more in the way of the Samurai as we go. Maybe I would be able to make my own armor by the times we get there-if I decided to wear some.

    I am glad I had brought two skins of water and two bags of nuts and cooked rice, they would last if we found nothing else to eat later and didn’t collect the shoots here.  He would have something on under his armor too. 

    I kept my eyes on him and did not turn for one last look. 

end

Excerpt Number five and last of my '18 NaNo Novel

Dec 8. Coming closer to the day we celebrate God is with us and how God the Creator showed off His love for us in a very demonstrative way.

This is the last excerpt of my ’18 Nano novel. Next week I will post four or five mini stories. I haven’t done that for a while. The week after will be a Christmas tale or two written by me. After that I will continue with the serial Airship Battle.

This is from chapter ten-there are twelve and starts with in the middle of a battle. They have to get to the house-temple of the wargod off to one side of a city under siege. It is suppose to be deserted but maybe not after all.

This has 3,375 words-a tiny bit long-and has been spell checked and a little bit revised. More complete revising and probably a new chapter when I get it ready for publishing.


They swung at each other, with some of the blows non-threatening for they missed. Jar’s managed to impact the man though. The other joined in. Jar had to increase the speed of his blows as he went back and forth to block the incoming blows.
Both men looked for openings and either would find one soon. His arm absorbed the hard blows but soon even he would get warn down. He concentrated on magic, drew in energy, it rushed in and filled his inner self, and just shoot it out in the form of colored lights, an easy sending.
Both men backed up, not to escape the lights but to make sure he couldn’t come in with a cut or stab. But he had figured they would do that. He spun around to one side so that when their sight cleared he was no longer in front of them. By the time they found him he had hit one of them.
He had pulled his dagger out and now charged at the man who first attacked him. He came in from the side and used a full body blow. The man stumbled sideways and knocked the other man’s sword arm. The first man missed his step again when he realized that his chest had been sliced open right above where his cuirass ended. It wasn’t bad for Jar hadn’t had good leverage but it went across his upper chest and hurt.
Both guards recovered very quickly, faster than Jar had hoped, but the one still had to untangle his arm. Jar went in and the second man with his dagger, It went into the side of his arm instead of the side of the man’s chest but it made a hole almost all the way through that arm, damaging the muscle. Jar pulled it out, spun in time to raise his sword to block a blow for he had seen a shadow move and knew what was coming.
Jar managed to recover traded two swings and somehow ended up almost side by side with the guy. He reached out and because he couldn’t get his blade against the man Jar swung back to hit the just under the top of the cuirass with the pommel of his sword. The man grunted and stood there for a moment like he was stunned. Jar reached back of the man grabbed his far shoulder and spun him into the second man who managed to switch hands and came at Jar. Both men fell, Jar kicked one sword away. A bit of sending and the other sword stuck to the ground.
He moved over to where the strong man was having problems. His opponent now had dented armor, which included a streak down the side of his helm. But he was still awake and active. Jar moved slowly behind him, he picked up a helmet that had fallen and put it on. The soldier tried to get by the strong man’s swings which were slowing. Jar tapped him on the shoulder and said, “Its me.”
The man said, “Not now,” through what sounded like gritted teeth.
“I bet you can’t take him in ten heartbeats.”
“What?”
“I bet you cannot beat him in ten heartbeats.”
“Go away.”
“Sorry can’t do that.”
“Why not, I am busy.”
“Not any more.”
At that he sent and flicked his wrist. The man helmet flew of. He spun around faster than Jar thought he could but Jar still managed to punch him in the chin hard. The soldier stepped backwards and fall. Jar knelt fast and punched him again.
Jar said, “I win the beat, you lost.”
He went through the man’s pockets quickly and found a coin purse. A glance inside showed gold and silver.
“I will take this as my winnings.”
The man cursed and struggled to get up. Jar moved and said, “You lost.”
The strongman brought down his club. The soldier grunt and his eyes closed. Jar didn’t know if he was dead or would wake with a very bad headache and he didn’t care to find out.
He stood. The others had won, Rosa had helped John after she killed her third appoint. He had been afraid someone would die. He waved for them to move on. He could hear clashes of fighting some in the far distance echoing through the city and some near by. Those last might be just guards fighting hoodlums but better not to find out.
Again they stayed to the shadows. Two houses further and they all dropped to the street when a large rock crashed down nearby. Jar heard it roll down a street and wreck another house. They continued on.
They came to the correct house. Jar hadn’t noticed it at the time but this was the largest house in the area. He had seen the other buildings he took to be guest or servant houses but now he wondered if they were actually storehouses for weapons and maybe soldiers who wanted to work for the wargod. They had tricked everyone into thinking there were just a few when it reality it had been thousands more from what Juan had said. How they found the ritual to make a key like they did he didn’t know. It sounded like there had been very few who knew you could make a skeleton key for that much less how to.
The gate was closed and looked to be in better shape than most of the other houses. It had been shined and looked new. Taller than the walls by a man’s height and wide enough for three horses to go through at the same time, without touching their sides. Black and brown, thick wood with a dozen iron bands around it. He new they were thicker than his little finger was long. The pastor door seemed part way open. Nice of them to leave it unlocked for them, but just to be on the save side they would go in another way. Not the same way as before though.
After a search he found a small gate along one side. A tiny thing he must have missed in his searchers, so he corrected himself by looking closer at it. There may be or may not be alarms on it. Jar’s stomach let him know with a loud rumble that sounded like a storm at sea that he had reached a point where he needed food.
No time for that but he needed, they all did, energy and it would embarrassing not to say unhealthy if his stomach sounded like that while trying to sneak into the house. With a movement of his head showing resignation he waved everyone back.
The wife and daughter had searched the bodies back there and had found some food, untouched by blood or inner body parts. That included some squashed bread and cheese, and of all things nuts. They all ate fast, and talked while eating. Jar thought they should go up over the gate. That would be the lease likely to have strong wards and alarm spells. The strong man thought they should just bash through the gate fast, there were broken columns and trees to use to batter it down.
Jar said, “Yes we could, but you are still hurt and are tired, we may need your strength later. The elf might be able to open it with his sendings but that would alert anyone in there too. Best make it as easy and less noisy as possible.”
The daughter said, “They may know you are out here already and it won’t matter what we do or how we get in.”
He nodded, “Yes that is true. I have considered that already but even if they know I am out here, the less time they know that I am inside the better.”
They all nodded with that.
A moment later he thought about adding, and it would be better in there than being caught out here by his troops. He could hear fighting and rocks being thrown about inside the city. They would be here very soon.
They hurried to the small gate and while helping each other up-they were show people after all-he finished his beard and cheese together.
Up on the wall top they soon jumped down the other side. All quiet and fast. He thought about leaving the wife and daughter but not with the troops coming. No where would be safe for them.
Rosa surprised everyone including Jar by jumping the wall. She had hurried down the street than galloped down it fast then sailed over the gate, wall and wards. She landed lightly as Jar expected. They made their way to a side door that servants had used. He thought about climbing up the outside wall like last time but they might be expecting that. Besides more than likely the temple would be in the basement.
The place smelled of bad magic, and old air. He heard nothing but their breathing. The guards and dogs had probably joined the soldiers but he didn’t trust that. There would be someone here to guard this place especially after they realized he would be headed this way with that first paper key.
On the way to the side door though he had a thought. If they went inside and headed for the basement and he tied his pack with the letter in it Rosa’s back, they might not know he was going up the outside. He hated to part with it but if he failed they would still have a chance of closing the gate that allowed the wargod out.
Or better yet they would think he still had it and would follow him and think the troupe were worthless. He nodded and he touched Rosa’s horn. He explained the plan. The unicorn could close the gate or as the case might be, reopen it and let the wargod be pulled back in. She would know what to do. From what she said, unicorns stayed out of opening and closing gates but they could since they worked magic.
She agreed for the warlord meant to either control unicorns or kill them. Any of the rest of the team could place the letter on the correct lock. He figured it could be any type of box, or plate or flat surface which might hold the key by magic, long enough to unlock and wake the wargod. Of course that had already been done but the altar, or whatever one called it, should still be handy.
He would help them open the front door but then he would just jump up and climb up the front of the building. They could react like they didn’t know what he was up to. They could go inside and just sit a spell, if nothing happened or was there to stop them, but after a few minutes take off for the basement.
Not much of a plan but it was the least complicated which might help the other side fall for it.
Jar looked around the door and he could smell old blood mostly human but also something else he wasn’t sure about. Maybe they had used blood deaths to enhance the wards on the door, or maybe it was the blood of one of the adherents of the god that he had pretended to be at the beginning of this. The two of them may not have taken no for an answer and so were shut up. Maybe a traitor to them they had made an example of. It didn’t matter that much, even though some.
The wards on the door were not as powerful or as hard a he figured they would be. After a long moment he found one ward and joined it. He found the basic spell under all of the extras, reshaped and twisted his sending energy until it fit even with that basic ingredient. He held out his hand palm out and concentrated. His sending eased itself in and hitched onto the basic one that Jar had found.
The unicorn let him use some of her magic so that he had what he needed. The door’s wards let him move closer and he used a tiny branch-harden by a sending fire. In no time he had the main lock undone. He pulled out as easy as if he had used the right key. Next he eased into the ward that notified someone that the door had opened. This time he stayed in long enough to tie two sections of that ward together so that when the door opened it would seem to be fine to the ward because the two parts would still be touching.
His legs started to complain and he knew that last bit had taken too long. Sweat rolled down his back and even though no one voiced any thoughts he suspect all of them wanted him to get a move on. With the possible except of the daughter.
Jar pulled his essence back toward his body. It stopped at one point. He blinked and pulled. Nothing: he didn’t move back to his body. Sweat formed on his forehead and threatened to get in his eyes while he checked out what held him.
There two sharp points made of magical energy. Not everyone would be able to see them. He concentrated more. Then he sent out two bits of energy. One hook pulled back but the other one stayed. He shook his head, He just wanted to go in a corner and stare at a wall. Memories came up from his childhood, his first failures at sending and more. He missed his mother even though he had barely met her. He remembered discovering his ears were like hers. But she went away anyway.
Even when he blocked those thoughts he wanted to give up and cry. He tried to back off then to slide sideways through it but this wasn’t a physical hook grabbing his clothes or even skin. It had a hold of his psychic. It had to be made to let go.
He moved closer and studied it. It should let go.
Oh, there a tiny part had gone in deeper. That could be why his thoughts and emotions had taken the turn they had. He traced the near invisible, even to him, line and saw where it ended. Once there however he found it easy to unhook it. Maybe because he knew these thoughts mind pictures that made his emotions so heavy. He had fought with them for a lot of his life even when things went well.
The hook fought him but he managed to send it back to the larger hook and to unhook it. Once free he spent to more time there, but was back where he belonged in less time than took to think it. His muscles relaxed, by that he knew they all had tensed, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Even though somewhat easy that was the hardest those heavy emotions had hit in years.
He opened the door just wide enough to allow everyone in. He didn’t want to take any chances. Once each member of the troupe was in he closed it and made sure it would stay closed.
John said, “Hey, you’re not in here.”
“Sorry,” at that he flexed his knees and leapt up to grab hold on the shelf like ornamentation above the door. The only way he could make it was because he had elven like strength.
He pulled his body up all the way, stood on that shelf that was only half of one of his feet wide. He found a copy of that head again-he assumed it was the original head the wargod had. He may still have it but Jar hadn’t seen the base of that dark cloud to be able to tell.
The stone was rough, and warmed by the sun. The troupe had spoken longer but now had given up since they could not shout.
Up higher and he smelled fresh bird poop. With no one living there birds could perch here, or they had a, probably, large bird guard. He better keep an eye out for one.
The third story had more dust and accumulated bird droppings and bat guano. Evidently the staff didn’t get this far with their cleaning. He really should tell the mansion’s owners about their sloven ways. Except they may know about it and not care. This was further up than most people would be able to see or smell after all.
What they left behind, even the dried very old crap, made the stones more slippery then they would normally be. Not to mention he wanted to say yecch every time he reached for the next hand hold. He had his hands in worse messes a time or two, but not recently.
The rough stones up here were hard on his hands but at least it helped to negate the slippery surfaces. His feet were another matter, however. They tended to slip on any surface. Maybe he should take off his boots and socks.
He shook his head, for when he licked his upper lip, he got sweat on his tongue. He continued anyway: there was no other option. He couldn’t let the average citizen down, not even the rich deserved the wargod-well, most of them didn’t.
When he reached the fifth floor, the one he wanted, he reached for the next ledge, grabbed it and tested it to make sure it would not come apart when he pulled on it. The builders could have used more stronger stones instead of porous ones. Too many of course and the house would fall down not too long ago. Out here though no one know what had been used. Someone hired to fix and maintain things here would probably notice if they came up here. The staff didn’t but a repair man might. But they may not care what someone on the economic level thought of their house. Might not care how the staff thought of them either, as long as they did their jobs.
His thoughts continued, and distracted him from exactly how dangerous this was. One slip and he would fall four stories. He might hit the hard marble walkway or the little softer grass on dirt or a taller bush that might break his fall in a good way depending on how strong their branches were. He had a better chance here in the front though than he had when he climbed the side of the house.
He reached for the next level’s decoration pocket and pulled up. Just as his head cleared the level a huge black shape came at him and a heavy guano stink filled his sinuses. Some auto defense?
Jar reared back and one arm jerked.
His fingers on that hand slipped. He reached forward with the other even as the shape came at him. That hand slipped on fresh dung as he realized the shape belonged to a bat, twice as large as his head. It had fangs and probably sharp, pointed teeth.
Even while the fingers of both hands slipped, he thought this could be the reason the staff were lazy out here. He reached out with each hand but both set of fingers slipped again. His head went back in the beginning of a fall.
Wind went by his head, the weight of his body pulled his hands from even the slippery hold they had caught.
He felt his fingers leave the stone, now air lay beneath them. His body dropped at the same time the bat flew over him. Its out wings touched his face and the wind of its passage seem to send him down even faster.
Jar tasted bile but couldn’t spit it out,
Out of instinct, for his mind had gone blank, he reached out again; any port of safety would do. His hands grabbed stone, his body jerked. Almost hard to enough to pull him loose again, but he had fallen only about a foot.
He still heard a crack of stone.


end excerpt

Excerpt number four of my '18 NaNo Novel

Winter is here for many and Christmas is coming-as I said last time, a sign that God loves us but also a sign that He is with us. God the Creator Loves you.

This is the fourth and second to last excerpt of my Nano Novel. This one takes place very soon after last week’s. I choose it because there are two short term characters I want to see if anyone can figure out. I doubt anyone will know the first one even though she shows up twice. The second one is more obvious. Because of that I will probably delete at least her when I revise the novel. Usually when I do this no one says anything so I don’t know if anyone had figured out the character(s) I put in. But I still think it is fun.
If you missed the previous excerpts you can scroll down for they are all under this one. 

This excerpt is 3827 words long.





The lock clicked and Jar glanced around just in case some hidden person, or the image, had heard it. Sweat started to drip again. He opened his senses to magic. The room had an abundant supply of it, including a large source in the drawer. But he could tell that none had become active or alert.
Noises were probably normal in this office so it would be hard to set an alarm for certain sounds when everything was considered normal to the wards.
His mouth became dry, as it sometimes did. Jar hadn’t brought anything to drink but that was probably for the good. Still cool water or even wine would be useful right now.
The drawer came open and he found the paper. It lay under two other magicked papers. Hmm, he wondered what they were about, but he came for one only. He ran his hand around it and felt nothing. Even laying his hand on top only produced the effects of the paper itself. Nothing under it either.
He reached for the paper but stopped himself. Something he had missed. Jar closed his eyes and energized his hand even more. Next he reached for the paper again with an open hand. When the magic of the paper reached for his senses he stopped and sent in his mind. He checked, searched around in overlaying circles to see if anything had been mixed in with the paper’s magic. That would be something Juan would do.
Nothing outside of what should be there. Maybe he didn’t have time to place an extra protection on it or decided that since it would be moved soon and the paper messed with that it would be better not to. Either way or another one it was good for Jar.
Jar placed the paper in his backpack again, as secure as last time. In a moment he reversed his steps and waited by the door. He listened but heard nothing. No snares wrapped themselves around him. Neither did any beacons. So far so good.
He opened the door and almost stepped back. A man in a black uniform: tunic and wide pants, walked up to him. Jar almost stepped back or bolted past the man-who turned out to be a woman. She walked past him almost without seeing him. She wore two swords and blue feathered arrows. The woman had short brown hair almost ready for a wide hat or a helm of some type and she looked young for this work, but sometimes that could be deceiving but then again he was young.
He swallowed his first impulse to run and instead he turned back to the room and said, “Good idea, I will see about it tomorrow.”
If she glanced in through the open door she would see the image standing there. She looked preoccupied so would probably not notice anything strange about the image-probably. As far as he could tell she didn’t even glance at him but more than likely his presence and what he said had registered on her mind. It might come to the forefront of her mind later.
The longer that took the better.
He closed the door and walked down the hallway toward the entrance as if he belonged there. He passed another person: a cleaning lady by her looks, even though she looked wiser and more alert to the world than most. Plus she carried three books in a knapsack. He could make out the outlines. They had a library down here that only certain people had excess to. It had books of power and some with strange tales and others that seemed almost alive. He knew that they found some of those books in caves, among ruins and in a couple of cases strange men and women gave them to the Organization. Those were suppose to be from other dimensions. He shrugged on that idea.
She went down a side corridor kinda of fast. He turned to look after her-was she an agent who realized something was wrong? He thought he heard a woman’s voice mumble something. A burst of a strange magic washed over him for a moment. He hurried to the corner and looked down. He sensed magic vanishing around the door jam two doors down.The room it led to contained a bunch of books anyone could read, even though not as many as that other library was said to have. Three men hurried up the hallway he still stood in and turned the corner. They ran past the door.
He turned back thinking he better hurry, but that was down right strange. And that magic he had never felt anything like it. And probably won’t again, he thought.
At the right door he went in and pressed the hand print on the wall. It would activate the steam mechanism that would push the room up to street level. Something the great artist da. Vinci was reported to have designed.
Once the door opened again he went out. Since it was night out, he walked to the back door-there were just enough candles and lanterns still glowing to see where to step, and unlocked the door to the outside. It would let him out in an alley where he could walk out of, go down a dark street and then to a busier street. Carriages and people walking might still be about on that street, but he wouldn’t attract any undo attention if someone did see him. Any guards for the Organization would know him and not think it strange that he would be out this late.
He went the long way about so he could leave the protected area on the same street that he came in on. If he acted like he came out of one of the block houses on that street anyone sent by those chasing him would not think it strange.
Once near the street he slipped into some shadows and eased his way around the corner. The ground was soft under his feet so it must have rained. He could smell wet bushes and air. Two carriages rolled by on the next street and he heard a couple of men talking on the street he was on. They most probably had not noticed him for they sounded no alarm or asked questions of him.
He licked his upper lip and got sweat on it. This time of night the air of the shadows felt the same as the air in the open. Once around the corner he stayed in the shadows of the houses and bushes as he made his way to the right house. The house didn’t matter but he wanted one in the middle of the street. Under cover of all the anti-magic and spells being cast here. He moved on. Twice he had to leave the thicker darkness because of obstacles like a field full of debris from a burnt building. Somehow it had been kept from burning the houses on either side.
Jar climbed over some of the remains of the structure but he went slow and kept as close to the deeper shadows as possible. Once over them and back to where he was master he wiped his lower face, then spat out the ash he had gotten in his mouth. He shook his head when he wiped his hands on the grass. Now he could smell the burnt wood. This fire must have been within a couple of months ago.
When he made it the house he wanted, he waited. Jar listened for carriages, footsteps and any other noises people would make. Nothing for a count to sixty, so he left the darkness and dashed to the street. People either walked on the hard surface of the street or along the edges where it would be a tad safer. He choose the edge of the side he had been on. It was a bit darker there and less chance any spy would noticed he wasn’t on the street a moment ago.
Jar wasn’t sure all of this was necessary but this time he had to do as much as possible to keep them in the dark-so to speak.
He walked out of the covering and along a busier street. If they still watched for the key, he would have seemed to be coming from a safe house. Or an apartment the magic and sword school ran.
He kept an eye out for anyone following him, like a shadow would, but that wasn’t easy while trying to look like someone in a hurry to go home. The air grew chilly and he sensed magic as well as something else in the air. He looked to the sky. Was the war god closer than he thought, like outside the city? No, the population would be running the other way. Could he or it, be watching him like some giant eye in the sky? Probably possible. He didn’t know the capabilities of this wargod. Maybe he should find out. Maybe he should have found out before he left. Too late for that. The more time he would have taken for that increased chance of it being caught or stopped for any other reason though.
Jar continued on. He found a boy he knew would take a message to any citizen. He wrote a note out to John explaining that the best chance they had to escape, at least for a couple of years, from the wargod was to go over the hight mountain. There were passes so they could get over and the third city along a river was huge and had many warriors plus wizards of great power they might stop the wargod or distract him long enough so that someone might be able to find a weapon against him. Jar said he was headed back to where this all started with what would stop him now. If he succeeded then they could come back if not they would be safe at least for some time. If not they might be able to get on a ship overseas. And be save a few more years. Of course they could spend time in a church to pray for his success. And to give the boy a copper and silver coin.
After the boy took off with the letter-Jar had given him a copper and silver coin and said he would get the same when he delivered the letter-Jar turned around and headed toward a side gate. He might be able to buy or if need be steal a horse from a rich man.
When he arrived at the gate he looked around. This gate was small, only two horses could get through at the same time if they touched each other, for few people used it. It had three iron bound doors, two outside and a thicker one closed from the inside. Plus hot oil pots up top of it and an inside moat with sharp stakes at the bottom. Now covered by thick boards which could be used for arrow shields. It smelled of rotten food and unwashed bodies. On the way he had bought two packs full of food and saddlebags with hay and oats in them. Then he bought a horse. It wasn’t as fast as he wanted but it looked healthy and like it could run for miles.
Once outside he turned one direction, east where he rode until that evening. He found an area where new wizards liked to practice their magic. The place was full of wards, traps and spent spells. Even illusions and such. It could be dangerous of any wizards were there now but he risked that. He manage to find grass for the horse and water for both. He ate bread and cheese then bedded down off to one side.
The next morning he changed directions and followed a small caravan that had four wizards in it. They might cover him enough to keep those priests from being able to catch sight of him. The wargod himself was unknown.
They traveled for three days then turned to go around that dry area. Jar shook his head: they shouldn’t be so concerned about their comfort.
He continued on through the edges of the small desert. There were some small watering holes along this edge, just enough for a horse and rider. Still hot with dry air but this way would be much faster. The way he jumped in and out of magic fields might confuse the priests and they would not know where he was for a while, or they would know immediately. Either chance however, still he had to go this way.
His horse didn’t seem to mind a diet of grass with a few oats mixed in at times. He ate what he had. At one stop though he found that his horse was having problems. Too hot for the faster traveling maybe or something wrong with it the owner had failed to tell him about? He didn’t know so sold the horse for half of what it should have been good for. On the way out of town he managed to cut off a small coin purse from a man dressed in rich clothes. Only a few coppers, more sliver and three small gold coins. He probably had more than one purse. This one might be for thieves or he was a con man who was trying to sell a bridge. The coins were real.
On the outskirts of that town he managed to join a caravan as a guard. He wouldn’t get paid as much as the others but he got to eat with them and had a place for sleeping. And he would not have to stay long here. The town stunk. It smelled like the public privies just let it drop on the ground under them. It didn’t take long for this trip but he spent a day in the shadow of the local city hall, until he was chased off by a magistrate. Jar managed to get close to the man and steal his purse in the process though. Jar disliked the man’s attitude and he might be able to get a replacement from the civil authorities since he lost the purse while on city business.
This purse contained just a little more than the one he got from the rich man. Still the coins went well with what he had still hidden in his clothes. The trip turned out to be short and boring. Except for toward the end, they were attacked by a new band of robbers. These looked like survivors and deserters from various militaries. All of the uniforms were dirty and had blood stains on them and the men stunk. Jar had been asleep before his night duties when the alarm horn sounded. He jerked awake grabbed his sword and knife, headed out of the wagon-he and the others slept in. Three of the attackers were down with crossbow bolts in them. Another one came his way. Jar though shook his head at the guy just before he changed directions and headed for the man who looked like the leader. The man, dressed in a newer uniform with no rips but had the image of a man’s head on his breast. Jar thought it was the same head that had adorned the house he had snuck into.
The attacker looked cleaner too. Jar titled his head, so they sent some out further to cause trouble so the populace and probably military could be worn down even before the wargod’s main force reached them.
The man saw Jar headed his way and turned toward Jar. He brought his weapon up in a ready position. He didn’t attack though, he just defended himself while he let Jar do the attack. Jar saw that and pulled back but only a bit.
Jar and the other went back and forth: swords clashed, both spun, slid and bounced backwards when needed. After many swings they rested a moment. The other had hit Jar’s chain mail over leather. But like him the light armor half elven: stronger than most human armor but not nearly as tough as full elf armor.
The attacker over reached but instead of going in, Jar pulled back. No, he would fall for something like that.
Metal clashed in Jar’s ear, he heard groans from a distance away. It warmed for Jar, sweat formed but he could see the attacker sweated also.
Jar spun away from one incoming swing but swung all the way around and stepped in further. He swung and hit the man’s arm. The blow hadn’t the strength behind it as Jar wanted but still enough to jar the man badly.
Somehow the man managed to bring his sword around to block a second blow, which inspired Jar to slide back. They each had armor that had new dents but that still blocked and deadened blows.
Jar licked his lips and came back with something like sweat. He seemed to be in worse shape than the attacker though.
They traded more blows. Jar panted but he could see that so did the other. He swung and swung and swung but couldn’t get his blade through the man’s defenses. The opposite was true also which was good for Jar.
After three harder than usual blows Jar pulled back a little but the attacker lounged. His blade’s edge impacted Jar’s chain mail on his right breast. The impact knocked Jar backwards five steps. It also cracked three links and busted one.
Jar groaned but then snarled and went in hard and fast he drove the attacker backwards, but a cunning blow knocked Jar’s blade from his hand: that blow had bruised his chest muscle which weakened his arm. More sweat dripped down Jar’s back, this time he didn’t care that when he used his tongue to lick his upper lip he got sweat.
He jumped back, without a glance to where his sword went. The man smiled and went in for blurry of blows which would end up with the blade in Jar’s throat or stomach or side. However Jar dived in under the attacker’s arms, he reached out with both hands as if he wanted to throttle the attacker. The man leaned back, Jar stepped in, but as his left hand touched the man’s throat he lowered his right and drew his knife in one move. Before the man even noticed that action Jar stabbed him in the side of his chest. Jar had noticed a weak spot there and had hit it twice. This time the point of the knife cut through the armor and into the man.
Blood poured out, however a heartbeat later Jar flew backwards. He landed on his tail, but raised up immediately. His knife had cut the attacker but the man had backhanded Jar before it could cut in too deeply. It still bled: Jar smelled the blood and the man’s sweat. He spat when he realized some of the man’s blood most have sprayed on and in his mouth.
The man dropped his sword, probably had become too heavy with that wound, but he drew a knife much like Jar’s with his left. They circled each other and panted. Jar considered faking a fall so he could hamstring the man. But he wore a type of greave.
Jar knew that the man had to finish this now, before he bled enough to weaken him too much. He might still die but at least he would finish off Jar first. Which come to think of it might be his job today.
The attacker charged and Jar went under him and up fast. The back of his head hit the man’s stomach hard enough to lift him up. Jar straightened and punch the man very hard in the face. He stumbled back with blood flowing from his nose. He had to shake his head. Before he could recover though Jar lounged, rolled his body to one side so that his arm touched the man’s side and then off of the man.
He spun around after Jar but then stopped. By the look in his eyes he had realized something worse was wrong. Jar had managed to bring up his knife and slice it over the man’s throat. Not as deep as such would usually go but still enough. The man’s legs buckled, he tried to say something, probably a curse for him Jar thought, and he collapsed. Jar turned back to the fight.
Another man in the same type of armor came toward Jar. Jar shook his head. He hurt, was tired and now this. But before the new attacker came close he jerked, looked down at the long arrow that had just blossomed from his chest. The expression on his face said he couldn’t believe it, then his face went blank and he fell backwards.
Jar’s muscles relaxed in relief. He spun around though. That arrow must have been shot by a strong arm to penetrate that armor like that. He saw a figure in black run down the line. When he looked back he saw that the arrow had blue feathers.
He titled his head when he looked after the archer. He or she may have brown hair. Jar moved on after another attacker but hoping none were near him. The battle ended soon after. The survivors took off. Three looked injured. After he made sure all of them had left he thought that they would not last long. Not only were their two leaders dead but their numbers had just shrunk significantly. He went back to where he battled the one leader. He went through the man’s pockets, picked up a well made small dagger and five gold coins with four large silver ones. He must have been paid well.
After a moment he recalled the man hit by the arrow. He went to him but the arrow was gone and it looked like his pockets had been gone through already. He shrugged and went back to the wagon. He needed a little something for his pain and to rest.
Later that night though he still had to go make his rounds. On his way out to the further wagons he saw a figure in a black outfit. He chased her down. The young woman turned on him and Jar noticed that she wore a small brooch on her collar. It seemed to show a rose.
Jar said, “I apologize for startling you. I just wanted to say thanks and to get your name if I could?”
The woman stared at him and said, “You’re welcome, but I won’t be here long enough to give you my name. I am just looking for my father.”
Then she turned and walked off.



end excerpt