+

+ fantasy, Opinion, Star Wars, Uncategorized

Thoughts on ‘The Last Jedi’

by Unknown's avatar

Who is/ will be the last Jedi?

Its amazing how many freaken theories come up when A SIMPLE TITLE is released. Good lord! Already theories have abounded about who the last Jedi is or what the title may mean.

So lets dive in, shall we?

  1. Who is the Last Jedi?
    1. Rey – This is the most obvious choice. She’s likely to be trained by Luke and is going to carry on the Jedi mantle. It will be a surprise to nearly everyone if this is not the case, though Daisy Riddley’s comments on the matter have fans thinking that this may be ambiguous.
    2. Luke – Second most obvious… MOSTLY BECAUSE THE TITLE CRAWL DURING THE FORCE AWAKENS LITERALLY CALLS HIM THE LAST JEDI!!
    3. Kylo Ren – Perhaps he is the last Jedi? Killing his father may have taken it’s toll on him emotionally and this may in turn aid in his path back to the light. So in this case, what about Rey and Luke? There is a standing theory that Luke is actually no longer a Jedi and is in fact a new concept known as a Gray. This is a Jedi that recognizes the use of both sides and practices their abilities as such. This makes sense as we’ve seen Luke travel at least partially down the path of anger and hate.
    4. Supreme Leader Snoke: Ugh… not even getting into this one. It’s pretty insane.
  2. The Last Jedi could refer to more than one:
    1. This could refer to Luke and Rey.
    2. Perhaps the ‘Knights of Ren’ as it could be that they were a return to ancient Jedi ways.

Any thoughts? Other wild theories?

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.

jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com

I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.

Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!

Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

+ advice, Fiction, Inspiration, literature, Music, non-fiction, Writing

From My Writing Playlist

by Unknown's avatar

 

Yeah this little gem is a little-known song from the D2 Mighty Ducks soundtracks. I honestly feel bad for this song. It’s a really adrenaline-pumping theme that came out a few years too late. This is a song that belonged in the 1980s and I get what they were trying to do here, given that the original came out right at the ass end of the Hair Metal age.

Its a rare gem that almost forces your muscles to head bang as you listen to it.

When to Listen: General playlist for me, but you could make the argument that these belongs as a build up song. A song where the main hero is putting in the last bit of training he needs to take on whatever his final foe is.

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.

jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com

I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.

Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!

Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

+

+ advice, Author, Fiction, literature, Opinion, Uncategorized, Writing

Powering Through!

by Unknown's avatar

I’ve got a question about writing.
I’ve currently got a novel in the works but I am currently finding it hard to continue. How do you power through the finishing stories?
 -Bahanehm

Hi Bahanehm,

Good question. I actually get asked this one quite a bit. Its a little hard to answer without knowing exactly what’s stopping you, so I’ll try to give a few general tips that have helped me in the past.
1. STOP WRITING! Don’t try to power through it because you’re not going to get very far, and trust me there is nothing worse than reading a novel that the author was clearly unenthusiastic about. Don’t… PLEASE don’t write if you’re just doing it to get it done. Your audience WILL pick up on it.
2. Reflect: What made you write this novel? What made you initially want to write it? Was it a movie you saw? A book you read? Perhaps a discussion you had with someone? Go back to whatever it was that inspired you to write and rediscover what made you do so in the first place.
3. Go do something else: Not kidding, go listen to music (I’ve posted several playlist options), go read a book, go watch a movie, or go out an experience the world. Get a refresh and then come back.
4. Reread what you already wrote: You’re going to need to do this anyway… multiple times. Go back, read, make corrections, and then try to pick up where you were.
5. Write an alternate path: Try creating a different storyline, say have your characters make different decisions and see where the story goes.
6. Write something else: Have another story in mind? Perhaps this is what’s stopping you from finishing your first one. Well, get it down on paper and then go back to your old one.
Hopefully these will help you get your mind back on track and help you start up again.
I’ll also open it up to my readers and let them offer any suggestions that they may also have. They’re usually pretty good about it.
Thanks,
Jim H.

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.

jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com

I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.

Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!

Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

+

+ advice, Democrat, Opinion, Politics, Uncategorized, Writing

The Importance of Freedom of Speech

by Unknown's avatar

Okay… You would think that such a post would be unnecessary, you would think that people would understand why a universal right to express your opinion is so vital to a free society… nay one of its truest cornerstones.
Once again, you would be going backrupt on your estimation of societal intelligence.
Don’t get me wrong, the majority of people out there are fairly intelligent, but the intelligent majority is also not very vocal. There’s a reason the term ‘vocal minority’ exists.
With the recent rise of violent outbursts at colleges surrounding Milo Yiannopoulos, police afraid to go after child sex traffickers due to fear of being label racist, and a government refusing to label terrorism what it is out of fear or a narrative… suddenly the problems become very clear.
Plus Milo’s speech was cancelled due to riots at UC Berkeley, arguably the birthplace of student Freedom of Speech movements in the U.S. I couldn’t come up with a more eyebrow-raising example if I tried!
Anyway, as a writer who has created stories dealing in social commentary, religion, and to a very minor extent, politics, I can’t stress enough how important free speech is.
Regardless of the content, Freedom of Speech is one of the most important rights we have, second only to the right to life. You don’t have to agree with the content of a person’s message, but as a free person, you do need to acknowledge their right to say it. Why? Because someone may feel the same way about what you have to say, but guess what? He can’t stop you from saying it except under very specific circumstances which I will address below.
So in your opinion, ALL speech should be protected?
 No not ALL speech. Inciting violence which can get someone hurt or killed must never be protected. Yelling ‘fire’ in a crowded place is absolutely unacceptable and so on. That should speak for itself.
So what about hate speech?
Yes… Hate speech MUST also be protected.
…
Hear me out! Let’s take a look at movements here in the United States. Look at the KKK, Neo-Nazis, Black Panthers, Black Lives Matter, 3rd Wave Feminism, and most terrorist organizations.
They are all free to express themselves and express their opinions openly without fear of being prosecuted in most Western nations. People can hear their opinions, read their literature, and see for themselves what these people actually stand for.
As a result, most KKK and Neo-Nazi movements are a very tiny minority. Their marches are usually tiny, consisting of only a few  to a few hundred people brought in from miles.
Most media that show their support today for BLM or most forms of identity politics are met with extreme scrutiny, see their rating flushed down the drain, and their mediums die. The individuals find themselves locked in small echo chambers surrounded by their like-minded cliques, because there is no other way for them to survive.
Because of this, the main stream media is beginning to fall apart and alternative media is on the rise because people are seeing these people for who and what they are.
Case and point, allowing these people to spew their bile and show what they truly believe and who they truly are is the best weapon we can wield against them. Don’t believe me?
Remember this charlatan?

For the longest time, she hid her bigotry, misandry, and flat out racism under the blanket of social justice. But then on election night, it came out for all to see, and to be honest, I’m glad she said it. I’m glad she has the right to… why? Because everyone saw her for what she is, and they let her know it:

https://twitter.com/ProperJimmy/status/796721139879845892

https://twitter.com/Brandon_Bahret/status/796261726584868864

https://twitter.com/DESTRYUR/status/796263653385371648

People do actually notice. That’s why these movements aren’t getting bigger and why they’re quickly losing ground. Trust me, let the Laci Greens, the Al Sharptons, and the Fred Phelp’s out there spew their hatred. When they do, smile, nod, and turn your back on them and walk away.

Afterwards, vote both with your ballots, your words, and your wallets. Let people know what you think of these people. Vote for candidates who are in YOUR best interest, not who they tell you to, and finally do not endorse them in any way. Stay away from their organizations, their sponsors, and whatever products or companies are behind them.

Do that, and sooner than later, they’ll find themselves alone in a room with the shadows of the people they’ve tried to hurt… suddenly, all their power is gone, and they have to face the specter of what they truly are and what they’ve truly done.

This from the guy who railed against MTV News for their racist New Years Resolution video???

Did you see what I wrote to MTV News about it?

I didn’t want them to take the video down. I recognized their right to say what they said… and I also knew how damaging it would be to their business.

Yeah Jim, that philosophy worked out REALLY well with the Nazis, didn’t it?

Sigh… okay points off for Goodwin’s Law!

In all seriousness though, this is true, so let’s put that into context, shall we? First of all lets look at the National Socialist German Workers’ Party of Germany. Prior to Hitler, they were very small and even after he joined, they were considered by most to be a fringe group.

Hitler was able to gain popularity by spewing well-worded incitement, not only against the Jews, but against society as a whole. The government back then had little power to do anything about it and the people were so poor, so destitute… sadly, a lot of the pictures we see of working-class people from the Weimar Republic are often mistaken for Holocaust photos. These were people desperate for a change and willing to take it in whatever form it came. Not to mention that the culture and climates were considerably different in those days.

In the end, we don’t have to like what people say, but we do have to recognize their right to say it and understand that if what they say is truly despicable, they will be digging their own proverbial graves.

I take it that you’re against political correctness?

Let’s take a look at the definition of it, shall we?

po·lit·i·cal cor·rect·ness
pəˈlidəkəl kəˈrek(t)nəs/
noun
  1. the avoidance, often considered as taken to extremes, of forms of expression or action that are perceived to exclude, marginalize, or insult groups of people who are socially disadvantaged or discriminated against.

It’s one of those things that looks good on paper… however… even in its earliest history, it has negative connotations:

– The phrase “politically correct” was associated with the dogmatic application of Stalinist doctrine, debated between Communist Party members and American Socialists.
Project Muse

-“throughout the 1970s and 1980s, the New Left, feminists, and progressives… used their term ‘politically correct’ ironically, as a guard against their own orthodoxy in social change efforts.” –Debra L. Shultz

– “political correctness actually began as an in-joke on the left: radical students on American campuses acting out an ironic replay of the Bad Old Days BS (Before the Sixties) when every revolutionary groupuscule had a party line about everything. They would address some glaring examples of sexist or racist behaviour by their fellow students in imitation of the tone of voice of the Red Guards or Cultural Revolution Commissar: ‘Not very ‘politically correct’, Comrade!’ ” –Stuart Hall

 

-“What has come to be called “political correctness,” a term that began to gain currency at the start of the academic year last fall, has spread in recent months and has become the focus of an angry national debate, mainly on campuses, but also in the larger arenas of American life.” –Robert D. McFadden

-Political correctness is one of the brilliant tools that the American Right developed in the mid–1980s, as part of its demolition of American liberalism…. What the sharpest thinkers on the American Right saw quickly was that by declaring war on the cultural manifestations of liberalism – by levelling the charge of “political correctness” against its exponents – they could discredit the whole political project. — Will Hutton

The list goes on… on paper it looks like an okay idea. A philosophy by which people self-censor when they think that what they say may hurt another person. However, like so many things that look better on paper than in practices, this philosophy is one of those things that is easily perverted and/or corrupted, particularly in a society where people are far too easily triggered and where we are slowly plunging into the dark area known as ‘thought-policing.’

Yes, forcing people to self-censor… and when they refuse to, assuming that their words are meant to be bigoted or racism… when you get to the point where you don’t only have to worry about what you say, but also what someone might perceive you to be thinking… that is extremely dangerous to the point of an Orwellian threat to a free society.

So yes, in its current societal form, I am against political correctness. Because even in its most basic definition is it anti-free speech.

So write on friends! Write what’s on your mind just write true and don’t do anything that can directly harm another human being.  You are free! Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise!

I would like to close with one of my favorite speeches from a sci-fi fantasy universe that I grew up with. Given the recent climate surrounding this particular universe… the quote is very ironic, but very true nonetheless:

“With the first link, the chain is forged, first speech censured, first thought forbidden, first freedom denied, chains us all irrevocably. Those words were utter… as wisdom and warning. The first time any man’s freedom is trodden on, we’re all damaged.” – Captain Jean Luc Picard, Star Trek The Next Generation

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.

jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com

I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.

Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!

Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

+

+ fantasy, Fiction, Historical Fantasy, literature, Reading, Religion, Urban Fantasy

Destiny: Divinity’s Finale, Book 2, Chapter 2

by Unknown's avatar

II

 

As Baltazar predicted, within two hours, the storm hit. Waves crashed over the deck and rain poured down on the crew. Though the ship was secured to prevent it from taking on water, they were still struggling to tie down the cannons on deck. The men had gotten the sails up and the cabins were secure, but a loose cannon could do serious damage.

Papi and Melisande were on deck trying to help out as much as they could. Mel stood with Gilles as they tried to push the number two deck cannon back into position. The cannon by itself was heavy and water crashing over it, made pushing it into place even more difficult.

Once the cannon was back on its blocks, Gilles reached out to Melisande, “Quick hand me the line and secure it!”

She struggled to reach him, but didn’t make it in time. The cannon broke loose and rolled forward, sending Gilles flying over the side. Melisande screamed, “Gilles! Man overboard!”

Every crewman who had already finished securing their lines ran to the side of the boat. Melisande watched as they tried to throw him a line, but the force of the waves crashing over his head made it impossible. His head disappeared beneath the surface every time a wave hit.

Melisande knew that he would drown if they didn’t do something quick. She called out to him, “Come on Gilles, swim, swim man!”

Another wave crashed over his head and she could hear him struggling to breath. Without thinking, she stripped off the vest that she’d been wearing, leaving only her shirt and undershirt on, and jumped overboard. Papi saw her and cried out, “Messy, no!”

He was too late to grab her as she jumped over the railing and plunged into the ocean. She swam towards Gilles as quickly as she could. It took all of her strength to reach him as the waves crashed over her.

Within moments, Melisande grabbed him by the arm and held him above the water. The dirt washed off her face and the hat that had protected her hair fell off. She pulled on Gilles as she swam, “Its ok, Gilles, I have you.”

Gilles opened his eyes and looked at her strangely, like he had never seen her before. They swam back to the ship where the crew pulled Gilles back on board and tended to him. Half drowned, he was taken down below to rest. He didn’t say anything and just lay there with a confused look on his face. As the men returned to their duties.

Meanwhile, Melisande was struggling to climb back on board. Baltazar had been called out to the deck and was watching as the group pulled his new cabin boy up. When she was finally up to the railing, two men grabbed her and pulled her over the side. She lay on her hands and knees coughing for a few moments before standing up. She was surrounded by crewmen and Papi was unable to get to her. Her clothing stuck to her skin, revealing her figure.

Gasps could be heard from the crew as they realized what she was. Baltazar’s eyes went wide and he pointed at her, “You there, stand fast!”

He then turned to the two sailors nearest to her, “Bring her astern!”

Papi began breathing quickly and struggled to get passed the crowd. Two sailors grabbed Melisande and brought her to Baltazar. He looked her over for a few moments and smiled, “Well, well, Melisande is it? I should have recognized you sooner.”

Melchior appeared next to them, “You know this woman captain?”

“Aye,” he replied with a wide grin, “she kept me from falling into a puddle of mud and I saved her from some local ruffians.”

Melisande stood in front of him with a defiant look on her face as Papi came up behind them, “Captain… sir, I can explain!”

Baltazar turned to his cook, “You can explain this Mr. Clement, I belive that I would enjoy such a story. Why is there a woman on my ship?”

Papi nodded, “Sir she lives at Mont St. Michel, she was an orphan placed in the charge of the church. She must have snuck out and travelled to Gransville.”

“I see…” Baltazar replied. “So you know this girl.”

“Yes sir,” he replied, “a long time now.”

Shouts errupted from the crew as one large man with a thick black beard and matching locks of hair called out, “Having a woman onboard is a black mark on a ship! I say we throw her overboard.”

Melisande reached behind her back with both hands and pulled out a pistol and a knife. She turned the knife on the large sailor and pointed the gun at Baltazar’s forehead, “No one is throwing me over the side!”

Scattered laughs came from the crew as she stood with her hands shaking. Baltazar narrowed his eyes, “Easy there Mel, where did you get that pistol?”

She breathed deeply, “I stole it from the hold, just in case something like this happened.”

The quartermaster came up next to Baltazar, “Sir, be careful, those pistols were loaded, I saw to that.”

“Well, looks you thought of everything Mel,” Baltazar said with a smile, “but I wonder, how do you intend to shoot me with wet powder?”

She looked at the gun and was about to respond when Baltazar grabbed it from her hand. Two crewmen grabbed her from behind and ripped the knife away from her. Baltazar shook his head, “It never work have worked anyway.”

He then turned to the quartermaster, “Put this back in the hold, and this time, see to it the weapons are secured.”

The quartermaster nodded and took the pistol, “Aye, aye sir.”

Baltazar turned back and looked at Melisande. There was a lot of worry in her eyes as she waited to hear her fate. He smiled as he spoke, “Our former cabin boy will have my cabin. We’ll set her ashore once we’ve completed our mission.”

A look of relief and gratitude came over Melisande’s face as the crew protested, “You would risk a black mark on us?”

Another crewman spoke up, “Aye, looks like the captain may have actually taken a shine to this tavern whore! I say we throw her overboard.”

Baltazar grabbed her, pulled her away from his men, pushing her towards the cabin, “And I say she stays aboard.”

Baltazar faced the angry stares of his men and drew his rapier, “Or would any man jack here dare challenge my orders?”

The looks on the crews’ faces turned from anger to fear. One by one, they slowly began to back away. Baltazar nodded as he put his sword away and stabbed the knife they had taken from Melisande into the mast, “No one, no one is going to challenge me? Disappointing… at least the tavern whore was willing to put up a fight, back to work, all of you then!”

The men grumbled as they returned to their posts. Baltazar snorted and turned his cabin. Melisande had already gone inside and shut the door. Baltazar opened it and walked in.

Melisande was sitting at his desk with her face in her hands. She was clearly upset. Baltazar pulled up another chair and sat down next to her. He grabbed a towel and began wiping her face to help her dry off, “Why the tears?”

“All I wanted,” She replied, “was a life of adventure. I was so tired of living behind the abbey walls. I wanted something more for myself. I wanted to find out about my family, where I come from, and who I am.”

Baltazar smiled, “So you escaped the abbey and came all the way out here.”

She nodded, “I was desperate to get away.”

“Was anything you told me about your family true?” Baltazar asked.

“My father wasn’t a blacksmith.” She said quietly. “I’ve spent most of my life studying and reading, that’s how I know so much. I was taught how by the church, but what I told you about them dying when I was young was true. I don’t even know my family name.”

Baltazar frowned, “I am sorry for you. I can sympathize, believe me. My family and I have a… troubled history. I haven’t spoken to any of them in years. My father denied that I was even his son. So I can understand what that’s like.”

She looked up at him, “More than anything, I was hoping to find some answers. There has to be evidence out there. I need to know where I come from.”

“Take it from someone who knows,” Baltazar replied, “sometimes ignorance can be bliss. If you keep this up, you may find out that you were happier before knowing.”

“It doesn’t matter… That’s all over with now isn’t it?” She asked sadly. “What do you intend to do, kill me?”

“Are you joking,” Baltazar replied, “you saved my best helmsman. In return I’ll give you safe passage to our next port. Once there, you can do what you want. If you want to try your luck on another ship, all power to you.”

Melisande nodded, “I thank you for that…. Captain.”

“You’re quite welcome,” Baltazar said as he got up and left the cabin.

Papi was waiting outside, “Captain, please don’t hurt her. She’s an innocent soul. I swear she never intended to hurt a fly.”

“Relax man,” Baltazar replied, “pull yourself together. I have no intention of harming her in any way. I swear it on my family name.”

Papi nodded, “Then please turn us around and return her to the abbey.”

“Put about?” Baltazar scoffed. “Have you gone mad? We’re out at sea. Going home now would not be good for business. I will set her ashore after our voyage.”

Papi looked at him concerned, “But where sir?”

Baltazar placed his hand on Papi’s shoulder, “Relax my friend, I promise you that she will be cared for. For the time being, just know that she is well protected in my cabin.”

Papi sighed, “Very well sir.”

“Thank you.” Baltazar replied. “Now return to your duties.”

“Aye, aye sir,” Papi said, not at all convinced that his captain wouldn’t defile her at the first chance he got.

Baltazar felt the rain begin to slow and looked up. The clouds were beginning to break and the storm was passing them by. He smiled and turned to the helmsman that had replaced Gilles, “Steady as she goes, helm! We’ll beat this storm yet!”

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.

jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com

I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.

Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!

Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

+ advice, fantasy, Fiction, Opinion, thriller, Uncategorized, Writing

From My Writing Playlist…

by Unknown's avatar

Yeah, this one may come as a surprise, but I actually liked Rihanna before she was almost literally driven into the ground by her record label. ‘Finally a pop star I can get behind.’ I thought… boy was I wrong… but anyway. Her early stuff is still good.

When to listen: Writing suspense? Thriller? Horror? Here you go!

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.

jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com

I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.

Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!

Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

+

+ fantasy, Fiction, Historical Fantasy, Historical Fiction, literature, Religion, Writing

Destiny: Divinity’s Finale, Book 2, Chapter 1

by Unknown's avatar

Book 2

The Pirate Heroes

I

The next two days were spent refitting the Specter for its next journey. Melisande worked hard to make sure that she won the acceptance of the crew. She served the meals promptlyand then helped clean below decks. She made sure to help out anywhere that she could, but made sure that no mug was empty when in the hands of a crewman. The crew appreciated the speed with which the drinks were served and refilled.

One late evening, she listened to two of the crewmen on deck arguing like they did the day she came on board. One she recognized as Melchior, the first mate. The other she had met a few days earlier. She didn’t know his name, but everyone just referred to him as the quartermaster. Judging by the sound of their voices, they weren’t happy.

“Two days it’s been.” Melchior yelled. “Where the hell be the captain!”

The quartermaster shrugged, “Last I hear tell of him, a woman had him tied up on land.”

Melchior rolled his eyes with a chuckle, “Literally or figuratively?”

“I don’t ask questions.” The quartermaster replied, “It be unsightly. That be what I was told and that be all I wanted to hear. This woman he be looking for apparently be something special.”

“She best be an angel.” Melchior replied. “If the captain be wasting all our time on this.”

The quartermaster nodded, “Heard he saved her from a gang a few days ago, he did. Now he be smitten.”

“Poor fool…” Melchior replied.

Melisande’s eyes widened as she listened in. Oh dear God, it can’t be…

**

An hour went by as Melisande tended to her chores. Papi was barely talking to her, still angry by her refusal to return to shore. It weighed heavily on her that the man she knew and loved may never look at her the same. Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard the boson’s whistle piping all hands on deck.

Melisande quickly dropped what she was doing and ran up on deck with the rest of the crew. She turned to the man closest to her as she watched the gangway, “Gilles, what is going on?”

Gilles, the helmsman, was a short man with no beard and thick black hair. When he turned to face her, it was as though his whole body moved, “Captain be comin’ aboard.”

Melisande’s eyes widened as she watched and waited. Suddenly, across the walkway, she saw a man dressed in a red tunic and black trousers step on to the deck. She could not make out his face as his head was turned, but she was certain that she knew who it was.

Melchior saluted, “Welcome home Captain. Was your business on shore profitable?”

“In some ways,” he responded, “I managed to pump a little information out of one of the innkeepers about a Spanish merchant ship heading this way.”

“Feel free to spare me the details.” Melchior replied. “Be not interested in where ye got the information. I be more interested in the information itself.”

“Aye,” The captain replied. “We’ll discuss this at dinner tonigh. I’ll tell you all about my exploits on land.”

Melchior rolled his eyes, “And ye wonder why I be wearing thin.”

“Ah, but tis a good look, and much healthier my friend.” The captain chuckled as he turned around. “So what do we have here Melchior?”

Melisande sighed when her fears were confirmed, “Oh no…”

“The crew be assembled Captain La Fuente,” Melchior replied. “We weren’t able to find many replacements at this lousy little port, but we got enough to make do.”

Baltazar smiled, “Very good.”

Melisande did the best she could to keep out of sight as Baltazar looked over the group of men that made up his crew. He then stepped off the aft deck and walked the line, looking at each crewman.

Melisande tried to hide her face without seeming obvious. Baltazar stopped in front of Papi. He looked the old cook over for a few moments, “Good to have you back, Mr. Clement. I’ve been greatly missing your morning biscuits.”

Papi smiled and nodded, “I have a fresh batch cooking for you in the galley. You’ll have them before the day is out.”

“Good man.” Baltazar replied as he patted Papi on the shoulder.

Baltazar moved further down the line, inspecting them men. He stopped in front of Melisande and looked down at her face. She kept her eyes narrow to prevent him from seeing her tell tale pupils while mentally saying a prayer that her disguise would fool him.

Baltazar had an odd look on his face as he watched her, “Do I know you from somewhere?”

She shook her head, “I can’t say as your face is unfamiliar to me… sir.”

“You wouldn’t be related to anyone I owe money to, would you?” He asked.

“I wouldn’t think so…” She replied.

“Good.” Baltazar said through a sigh of relief. “Would this be your first voyage, boy?”

Melisande did the best she could to alter her voice, making it sound like that of a boy’s, “Aye sir!”

“What say you then?” He asked in a stern voice. “Are you prepared to serve, life or death, so help you God?”

Melisande nodded, “Aye…”

Baltazar smiled, “Good lad.”

He then turned and headed back to the helm, “Melchior, we sail at 8 bells! Get the ship ready!”

Melchior nodded, “Aye sir, everyone to your stations. Move it you dogs!”

The crew scattered across the deck. Each man headed to his station as everything came together. Baltazar watched suspiciously as Melisande disappeared below deck. He stood at the helm and turned to his first mate, “Melchior, what do you know about our new crewman? Where did he come from?”

“No idea, I’m afraid.” He replied. “We saw the boy looking lost on the docks and asked if he be looking for a ship to sign on with. He seemed anxious to sign once he came aboard. What’s more, he actually knows how to read and write.”

Baltazar nodded, “There is something familiar about that boy… keep an eye on him.”

Melchior nodded, “Aye sir.”

*

Melisande was below deck when she heard 8 bells chime. Baltazar stood at the helm barking out orders, “All watches on deck prepare to make way, shorten and cable. Men to the yards, aloft with you! Hands to the braces, weigh anchor, let fall the sails!”

Melisande nearly fell backwards as the ship lurched forward. She quickly found her feet and continued working. Once she finished setting the captain’s table, she ran up on deck and leaned over the railing. The cool sea breezes passed over her face and the ship began to pick up speed. Within moments, the Specter exited the harbor.

Baltazar turned one point to starboard as they reached open water. He stared out at the horizon and smiled, “Let’s have some fun.”

He used the coordinates that were given to him and navigated toward where this Spanish ship would be. Melisande decided to make herself useful and helped swab the deck as the rest of the crew prepared for action.

She saw Gilles pass by as they were priming the deck cannons, “Hey, any idea where we’re going?”

“Hunting,” Gilles replied with a smile, “we’re going after a Spaniard who will hopefully be carrying riches from the new world.”

A worried look came over Melisande’s face, “What happens to the crew?”

Gilles stopped working and thought for a moment, “Our captain is weird about that, he offers their crews a chance to join us, if they don’t, he sets them free in thier own ship’s longboats.”

“So he doesn’t kill them?” She asked.

“No,” Gilles replied, “not unless he has to.”

Melisande nodded as she finished working and went below. Papi had the captain’s next meal ready to go. He looked up at her as she entered the room, “Have fun on deck?”

Melisande nodded, “What do you know of Captain La Fuente?”

“Good man,” Papi responded, “good pirate. No one knows much about him. He avoids questions about his family and his past, but he’s quick with a joke and enjoys spending time with his crew. He gives each of us our fair share, but the odd thing is that he takes the rest of the plunder and what he doesn’t use to refit his ship, goes to the poor people and the church of whatever city we stop in.”

“Is that so?” She asked, surprised. “So he’s not like the cutthroat pirates that I’ve been reading about.”

Papi laughed, “No, he seems to be a man on a mission, but you would do well to stay away from him. His debaucheries on land are famous.”

“I know,” She replied, “I’ve met him before.”

“What,” Papi asked as a combined look of worry and surprise appeared on his face, “when?”

She lowered her eyes, “A group of ruffians attacked me as I was making my way to the docks. He stopped them.”

Papi stepped forward and took her hand, “Were you hurt?”

“No,” she replied, “he got to them before they laid a hand on me.”

Papi nodded, “He has my thanks, even though I can’t tell him.”

Melisande helped clean off a few dishes as Papi finished preparing the meal, “How long have you served him?”

Papi thought about it for a few minutes, “About five years. I served the captain before him. Captain La Fuente organized a mutiny when he was only 15. He took over command, treated his men better, and I decided to stay on.”

“I see,” she said in a rather disappointed tone, “so a scoundrel, a thief, and a mutineer.”

Papi smiled, “Yes, but an honorable one of each.”

Papi pulled the last plate out and placed it on a tray, “Bring this to the captain’s cabin. He’ll be expecting it.”

Melisande nodded as she took the tray. The boat rocked back and forth and it was difficult for her to keep everything on the tray, but she managed to make it on deck and then to the captain’s cabin. There was a strong wind blowing, but she was determined not to screw things up.

Once Melisande reached the cabin door, she placed the tray down, opened the door, and brought the tray inside. Baltazar was working on some sort of pistol as she set his tray on the nearest table, “What is that, Captain?”

Baltazar looked over at her, “Ah, Cabin Boy Mel, thank you for bringing my food by.”

She nodded as Baltazar held up the pistol so she could examine it. The hammer wasn’t like the pistols she’d seen before. Usually those had a lit match on the end. This one appeared to have a small rock wedged between a vice on the rear hammer. In front of it was a bent lever that fed down into a pan where the gunpowder would go, “I’ve never seen a pistol like this before.”

“Fascinating, isn’t it?” He asked. “We stole a box of ten of them off the last merchant ship we ransacked. The captain said they’re called ‘flintlock’ pistols. Look…”

He pulled the hammer back, pushed the lever into position and pulled the trigger. Yellow sparks flew from the contraption as the lever sprung into its open position. She looked in amazement, “So if I understand this correctly, whatever that stone is, when it strikes the metal, it creates sparks that cause the power to ignite! In other words, it can fire even in bad winds!”

Baltazar nodded, “Very good… how did you know that?”

“I…” She realized too late that she had said too much. “My father was a blacksmith. I understand these types of things.”

Baltazar crossed his legs as he began picking through the food, “Is that so? Tell me about your father, what was he like?”

Melisande shook her head, “No disrespect sir, but my family life is personal, they all died when I was very young. I don’t know much more than that.”

“I’m very sorry,” Baltazar replied, “forgive me.”

She nodded as she saluted, “It’s quite alright sir, but if I may be excused, I have other duties.”

Baltazar nodded, “Okay, you may go.”

Melisande turned to leave as Melchior walked in. She moved quickly to the side avoid bumping into him and saluted, “Excuse me sir.”

He nodded as she passed by, “Mel.”

Baltazar looked up at his first officer, “Melchior, what can I do for you today?

“Sir,” Melchior replied, “we’ve spotted a storm coming in off the port bow. I don’t think we’re going to reach the Spanish merchant tonight.”

“Bad?” Baltazar asked.

Melchior nodded, “It looks like we’re in for a squall.”

Baltazar looked out the window at the dark clouds on the horizon. He closed his eyes as the wind passed over his skin. To Melchior, it almost seemed like he was trying to read what the weather would be like from the sound of the wind.

After a few moments, Baltazar reopened his eyes, “We’ve got a few hours left… order full sail for about 90 minutes. Once it starts getting dark, drop all canvas, batten down all hatches, and go to storm procedures. I want this ship secure, mister.”

Melchior saluted, “Aye Captain, it will be done.”

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.

jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com

I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.

Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!

Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

+

+ Book, fantasy, Fiction, Historical Fantasy, Historical Fiction, literature, Religion

Destiny: Divinity’s Finale, Chapter 4

by Unknown's avatar

IV

 

The cart had been travelling for over an hour and despite the bumpy ride, Melisande had managed to fall asleep in the back. She was roused when she realized that the cart was slowing down. The sounds of activity all around her were a good indication that she’d arrived in Granville. She raised her head and smiled when she realized that her trip was over. Now she needed to figure out how to get aboard a ship.

The cart passed through the market and was heading for the docks. She looked in front of her as the buildings parted to reveal tall masts and open ocean. This was where Melisande wanted to be. Quietly, she hopped off the back of the cart and went to take a closer look at the ship.

Upon examining her surroundings, Melisande saw several ships with men lining up to sign on. She walked over to one of the ships. A man was sitting at a small desk signing crew on.

He looked at her sternly, “This ain’t no place for womenfolk, move along.”

Hurt, Melisande turned her back to the ship without replying, and walked away. Looking at her clothing, she realized that there was no way she would be able to sign on as long as she looked like a castle maid. It was obvious that she would need to diguise herself as a boy.

Without another thought, Melisande turned and headed for the marketplace. Finding what she needed was easy enough with so many places to shop. She went from stand to stand looking for the right tunic and some trousers, but none seemed to suit her. Finally, as she was about to give up, she found what she was looking for at the last stand at the end of the road.

The shopkeeper was an older man who eyed her suspiciously, “You want to buy these clothes?”

Melisande looked at him nervously, “Yes sir, if that is ok. They are for my… husband.”

“Indeed…” The man said quietly, “and where is your husband?”

She began to sweat as she tried to come up with a credible story, “He’s… he’s at sea… he should be home at any day now.”

“This is how it always is.” She said, trying to be casual. “Every time he comes home, his clothes are always torn to shreds. I can’t have him looking like a beggar, you know?”

The shopkeeper narrowed his eyes, “Odd… I haven’t seen any reports of a ship coming in… lots going out, but not one coming in.”

The whole thing sounded suspicious, but he was a shopkeeper, not the local constable, “Oh well. Do you have enough money?”

Melisande pulled a small sack of coins from her dress and handed it to him. He opened it and looked in, “You’re a little short… but it’s ok, I’ll accept this for questioning you.”

She smiled and curtseyed, “Thank you sir.”

She took the clothes and backed away, looking for a place to change. Privacy was in short supply in this town, but she would not give up.

At the other end of the market stood an old tavern which was a favorite hangout for sailors that had just returned to port. Anytime a ship arrived, there was always a party and the doors would remain open all hours of the night. It seemed like a fairly rough spot and not suitable for her to change.

As Melisande walked by, the door to the tavern flew open and a man fell through them. He landed hard on his side on the dirt path. He was followed by a crowd that was led by a much larger man wearing an apron. The large man stood in front of him with a sneer, “Don’t be showing your face around here again!”

“Aw come on innkeep!” The man replied slyly, “I was just enjoying a drink! She came on to me. What’s the harm in me coming around and enjoying the local spirits?”

As though answering his question, eight swords suddenly appeared, pointed at his throat. The young man looked the mob that was now poised to strike and his lips twisted, “All right, you’ve made your point. Not a good idea.”

The men put their swords away and headed back into the tavern. As the innkeeper followed and closed the door, he called back to the young man, “Oh, and if I see you anywhere near my daughter again, I’ll fix you in a way to make you fit for the choir!”

Hearty laughs came from inside the tavern as the large man slammed the door. The smaller man stood up, brushed himself off, and straightened up his short black hair. He smiled and called back, “I’d still be more of a man than you!”

The young man laughed as he began to stumble down the street. He tried his best to steady himself as he continued, but he stumbled over a stone and fell forward. The man closed his eyes, certain he was about to hit the ground again, but instead felt pressure on his shoulders, holding him up. When his eyes opened, he saw Melisande holding on to him, “Are you okay?”

The man rubbed his eyes and looked at her again, “I beg your pardon?”

She looked at him oddly, “Are you okay? You’re stumbling all over the place and you reek of booze!”

Snap out of it man! He thought to himself as he straightened up, “My apologies miss. I seem to have had a bad string of luck lately.”

He smiled as he looked her over, “Until now, that is.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she replied.

The man brushed off his white tunic, straightened up the large golden medallion the rested on his partially bare chest, and stood up straight, “Allow me to introduce myself properly. I am Captain Baltazar de la Fuente, at your service ma’am. May I have the honor of your name?”

Melisande immediately noticed that his eyes were not on her face, “You may have the honor of my fist in your mouth if you don’t redirect your gaze.”

Baltazar shook his head and bowed, “My sincerest apologies, my fair lady. It is hard to keep one’s eyes focused on but a single aspect of such a work of art.”

At hearing his words, her eyes went fluttery, “You… you see me as a work of art?”

“Aye,” He replied drunkenly, “indeed the great painters of the church, including the mind of Leonardo Da Vinci could not have envisioned such perfection.”

“Leonardo Da Vinci…” She repeated in a whisper. “I have heard of him and read of his works.”

She forced a half smile as she moved closer to him, “Answer me something honestly my noble Baltazar…”

“Anything m’lady,” he replied in a sensual tone.

The blushing look on her face quickly turned to a cross between malice and deviousness, “How many women were fools enough to believe a single word of that flattery?”

Baltazar was caught off guard and his expression turned to one of shock. He struggled to regain his composure as he organized a retort, “It… matters not how many women I have said such things to, what matters is the sincerity with which I say it now.”

“And you’re badly lacking in any.” She replied with a snort. “Out of my way, I have no time for ruffians.”

Melisande pushed past Baltazar and made her way back to the docks. Baltazar watched her from behind. Well now, she certainly has spirit. He then took a moment as he examined her appearance before she turned away. She’s an unusual one… those eyes are unlike any other I’ve seen…

Once she was away from Baltazar, Melisande decided to try a shortcut through a large alley. She could see the masts of ships on the other side and quickly made her way through. She was a few feet away from the docks when two men appeared in front of her, “Well well, what have we here?”

Melisande didn’t give them a second thought, “Excuse me, please. I need to get to the docks.”

The taller man pushed her back, “What would a woman like you want on the docks? I better check your bags.”

Melisande backed off and tried to leave the alley the other way, only to see it blocked by two more men, “Let me be, I have nothing of any value to you!”

The leader looked her over, “Is that so? I think you have a few things of value, what do you think boys?”

The other three snickered as they closed in on Melisande. She began to breathe heavily as she dropped her bag and pulled the two swords out of her blanket. With one in each hand, she pointed them in both directions at the gang, “I know how to use these, back off!”

The swords looked tarnished and her quivering hands were not helping her case. The group scoffed and continued to move in. The leader kept his eyes on her, “Come on boys, let’s see what she has to offer.”

Suddenly, another voice appeared behind them, “What’s the matter Jaspart, roughing up local merchants becoming too tough for you?”

The leader looked up, “This doesn’t concern you La Fuente, isn’t there some merchant’s daughter you should be defiling?”

Baltazar laughed, “Yeah, but I only gamble my money, not certain parts of me. The price proved to be a little high. Anyway, you heard the lady, she said back off.”

“Really,” Jaspart replied, “I don’t think I have to back off… in fact, I appear to have three swords that agree with me on that, don’t ya boys?”

“4 swords against one?” Baltazar said with a frown. “Almost seems a little unfair!”

As the first gang member, a fat man named Grard, drew his sword, Baltazar grabbed his own and sliced the air. His sword clashed with Grard’s, while a second man, Allart came up behind him. As Baltazar dueled, he watched Allart out of the corner of his eye.

Once his attacker got close enough, Baltazar used his impressive speed and brought his leg back hard. His foot impacted against the Allart’s stomach, causing him to wheeze and fall to the ground. Then he forced Grard’s sword away with his own, balled a fist, and struck right on the bridge of Grard’s nose.

The man dropped his sword and cupped his hands over his face as he fell to the ground. The third man who had been standing next to Jaspart flinched and then ran as fast as he could in the other direction. Jaspart called after him, “Coward!”

Baltazar shrugged, “Almost unfair.”

Jaspart sneered, “This isn’t over La Fuente!”

“So you keep saying, old friend,” Baltazar called as he ran away, “but you just never learn, you should hire better men!”

Once they were gone, Baltazar grabbed Melisande’s bag and brushed it off. He then turned and handed it to her, “My apologies miss. Some of the locals around here are a bit rough around the edges.”

Melisande lowered her swords, “Thank you for your help good sir, though I am sure that I could have handled things.”

Baltazar smiled, “Of that, I have no doubt, even with such poorly kept swords. In truth I was going to let you handle it yourself, but then I thought, ‘What kind of a man would I be if I let you do all the work?’ So I figured I’d do at least one good deed today.”

“I see.” Melisande chuckled softly as she turned to keep moving. “Well thank you again.”

Baltazar nodded, “You’re welcome miss… um…”

“Melisande.” She replied. “My name is Melisande.”

“A beautiful name for one so fair!” Baltazar said with a bow. “Do you live around here? May I have the honor of escorting you home?”

“I would like that very much.” Melisande said politely.

“Very well then,” Baltazar replied, “which w…”

“Unfortunately,” Melisande interrupted as the devious grin once again appeared on her face, “I don’t live anywhere around here. So it looks like you’re going to have to escort yourself home.”

Melisande brushed passed Baltazar with a giggle, leaving him standing in the alley with a sheepish grin on his face, “It would appear that this rose has thorns…”

Baltazar watched Melisande until she disappeared from view. She turned a corner and hid behind a stack of barrels. After making sure that she was completely out of sight, she stripped off her dress and threw on the clothes that she had just purchased.

Realizing that her face was still a giveaway to her gender, she rubbed some dirt on her cheeks and slightly narrowed her eyes. Among the clothes she had purchased was a vest that helped hide her chest once she buttoned it. Finally, she stood up and looked herself over. She could now easily pass for a boy, or so she thought. A gust of wind blew her golden blonde hair into her face.

Melisande knew that other sailors had longer hair, but not like hers. She took care of her hair and made sure it shined brightly. She could never get it past anyone.

Knowing what had to be done, Melisande grabbed one of her swords and pulled her hair back. At that moment, she hesitated. What was she doing? Did she really want to alter her appearance this much?

I’ve come this far. She thought to herself with a deep sigh. If I really want this, I’ll need to go all the way…

With one quick pull, Melisande felt a ripping sensation as her hair came loose. She looked at the long locks in her hand as the remaining hair on her head barely touched her shoulders. She dropped the severed hair and allowed the wind to carry it away. She was now ready to go.

Unfortunately it looked as though Melisande had taken too long. All of the ships that were hiring had closed up shop and weren’t taking on anyone else. She let out another deep sigh and started walking down the dock towards the town, hoping to find some place to rest for the night. She passed by several ships, none of whom still had a desk out in front of them.

As she continued walking, she noticed a peculiar looking ship at the end of the dock. It was in the process of being repainted dark blue and flew no flag. The name on the back was painted in gold and shined in the setting sun.

On the deck, Melisande could hear two men yelling at each other. She couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but she picked out the words ‘deserters’ and ‘short-handed.’ As she made her way by the dock, a sailor on board looked over the side and yelled to her, “You there, boy!”

She turned back and looked up at the person who had called to her, “Me, sir?”

“Aye.” He replied. “Ye look like a lad looking for work.”

Melisande nodded as she tried to adjust her speech to sound more like an experienced sailor, “Aye, but it looks like everyone’s already signed up enough hands.”

The sailor smiled, “Well, ye think ye got what it takes to sail on the famous Specter?”

Melisande looked over the small ship. The Specter had a single square rigged mast which was followed by a smaller mast that carried a large lanteen sail. It was smaller than most caravels that Melisande had read about and the ship’s actual design was unknown to her, “Famous huh, what’s the pay like?”

“Ye’d start out a cabin boy.” He replied. “So ye would get a half a share of whatever we bring in.”

There’s almost no difference between a cabin boy and what I do at the abbey… She thought to herself. Still, you have to start somewhere.

Having made her decision, Melisande looked up at the sailor, “Where do I sign up?”

The sailor smiled as he beckoned her aboard, “Haha, that’s the spirit! Come meet the first mate.”

Without another thought, Melisande ran to the walkway and jumped aboard the Specter. She was surprised to see just how heavily armed the ship was. Large cannons lined the deck, making the walkway somewhat cramped. These were in addition to the standard armament on the lower gun deck. Other than that, there was nothing special about this ship. It was small, cramped, and looked like it was over-manned for its size. The aft cabin had three large, lead-plated windows, but that was the only decor on the aft castle.

“She be a simple ship, but she serves her purpose.”

Melisande jumped at the voice that appeared behind her. She turned to see the first officer standing right over her. He was a very tall man with a gray beard and dark eyes. His hair was almost gone and he wore a large hat to cover it. He smiled with every green tooth he still had, “Apologies, lad, my name is Melchior, I be the first officer on the Specter. I understand ye be looking to sign on with us?”

Melisande mustered up what courage she could, “Aye, sir.”

Melchior smiled, “Argh, what be your name?”

“Mel…” She stopped in the middle of her name. She couldn’t very well give her real name or they would know right away what she was. Could she get away with that, or would she need to think of something quick.

Melchior looked at her oddly, “Mel… that be an odd name. Be that short for something?”

She shook her head, “No sir, it’s just Mel sir.”

Melchior smiled guided her over to a table seated in front of the helm. On it was a book and quill. Melchior pointed to it, “All right then Mel, make your mark.”

Melisande picked up the quill and signed her name. Melchior’s eyes narrowed, “You know how to write too. This be quite interesting.”

“My mother insisted I learn.” She replied. “I can’t figure out why.”

“Perhaps she thought it best ye be educated.” Melchior replied. “It be a better way to live then not knowing if something ye be signing be false.”

Once Melisande was done with the book, Melchior closed it and put it away, “Welcome aboard the Specter, lad.”

She nodded, “Thanks, so tell me, who is captain here?”

“Aye.” Melchior replied. “He be the bravest man I ever did sail with. I expect he be back any time. He be a real whirlwind of passion and ferocity. Ye best not cross his path.”

Melisande smiled, “Got it, this should be fun.”

Melchior shrugged, “Aye lad, if ye say so. I reckon ye be wanting to get started. Stow yer gear and make for the galley, the ship’s cook will be waiting for ye. Lively now!”

Melisande stood at attention and saluted, “Aye aye sir.”

She quickly disappeared below deck, found her bunk, and then made her way to galley. She passed through the small walkway illuminated by lanterns. The wood creaked under her feet as she stepped. Finally, she made it to the galley. This area was well lit and even had hot stove with a vent running through to the deck.

The cook had his back turned to her as she entered the small room. He was working hard on the crew’s supper. Upon hearing movement, he turned around to see who had entered his galley.

Melisande shrieked at seeing his face, “Papi?”

The startled cook looked strangely at Melisande, “Boy, why are you shouting like that? You could have gotten yourself shot!”

He then stopped in his tracks, “Wait… what did you call me, Papi?”

A terrified look came over his face as he realized who he was dealing with. He walked closer to her, grabbed a wet rag from the counter and put his hand to her face. Before she could back away or protest, he wiped away the dirt, “Only one person knows me by that name…”

As Papi wiped her face, his eyes went wide, “Melisande? So this is where you ran off to! I thought maybe you had gone exploring and that Sister Mary was overreacting per the norm but… What are you doing on this ship?”

“I might ask you the same question.” She replied. “I remember you disappearing for months at a time throughout my life, is this where you went?”

“I’m asking the questions here Messy!” He fired back, “This is no place for you! These people are pirates!”

Melisande stepped backwards, “A… a pirate vessel?”

“Yes,” Papi replied with a sheepish look, “I sign on as the ships cook every now and then when I need more money to keep my Inn open.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing, “So all these years, you’ve been a pirate.”

“I’ve been a cook on merchant ships too,” he admitted, “but this is the only one I’ve truly enjoyed serving on.”

“I see…” She replied. “So what now?”

Papi shook his head, “Now we’re getting you off of this ship and back to the abbey!”

“No!” Melisande protested adamantly, “I’m staying right here. I can’t go back to the abbey. I am tired of that life. I snuck out early this morning and went for a walk. When I looked back, I couldn’t stand the thought of returning to that cage. I need to get my life started before I rot away behind those walls!”

“This is not the place for you to get started.” Papi insisted. “If the crew finds out who you really are, I don’t know what they’ll do!”

“They won’t find out.” She replied smiling. “Look at me, you barely even knew who I was.”

Papi looked her over and sighed, “This isn’t a game, Messy! You are in real danger here. I’m taking you back. There is no other choice.”

She took a step backwards, “No, no you’re not. If you even try it, I’ll inform the local authorities of what you really are. I’ll then do the same with the abbey.”

Papi’s mouth dropped open, “Messy… after all these years… I was good to you and did my best to make you happy when I was at the abbey. After all that, you’re blackmailing me? You’d really turn me over to be hanged?”

“I won’t,” she replied, “and I don’t want to, but now you can see just how despirate I am. I can’t go back. I’ll die if I have to remain trapped behind those walls. No matter what, you’ll have to kill me to send me back.”

“Messy…” Papi said in a disappointed voice. “You’ve changed. I never thought you’d go this far.”

Melisande frowned as tears entered her eyes, “I’m sorry Papi. I don’t mean to hurt you and I hope you can forgive me, but I was suffocating there. I need to know who I am and where I come from. I need to travel and to find out who my family is. There is more to me than a simple abbey servant… I know there is.”

Papi saw the look in her watering eyes as they pleaded with him. She stepped closer as a tear fell down her cheek, “Please help me… please?”

Papi struggled greatly with her plea. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t like the way that Sister Mary had treated her, but how could he let her stay on that ship? She was in a lot more danger than he thought she could understand. Even so, what choice did he have? He couldn’t force her back and she did have information on him that could lead to a hangman’s noose.

Defeated, and knowing that Melisande would not give up, he sighed, “If you are absolutely certain that you’ve thought this through… fine. I’ll keep your secret for one voyage and only one! After that, I’m taking you ashore and we’ll find the answers to your past together.”

Melisande looked away as she contemplated his words. Papi watched her think, and knew that he had duties to attend to, “This is the only deal that I’m prepared to make. I’d rather face the gallows than see you at the mercy of these cutthroats. Is it a deal or am I taking you ashore now?”

Melisande looked up and smiled, “I love you Papi, you’re the best. I accept your offer!”

She threw her arms around him and gave him a kiss. Papi pulled away quickly with a nervous look, “Don’t thank me. I’m already regretting this. Keep yourself in check and don’t rouse suspicion!”

“Don’t worry Papi,” she replied, “the guards taught me how to handle a sword. I’ll be fine.”

“I hope so,” Papi replied, “I hope so…”

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.

jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com

I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.

Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!

Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

+

+ advice, Inspiration, Music, Opinion, Uncategorized, Writing

Off My Writing Playlist

by Unknown's avatar

I can’t believe I’m doing this…

 

You’re a stronger person than I am if you can watch this video and still take this band seriously.All I’m going to say…

When to listen: DON’T!!!! Hahahaha Just kidding. This is a psych out song. Don’t listen to it while writing. You kind of have to watch the video to really get the full effect. It’s sort of a pallet cleanser to clear your mind (yes, it has that affect).

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.

jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com

I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.

Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!

Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

+

+ books, fantasy, Fiction, Historical Fantasy, literature, Uncategorized

Destiny: Divinity’s Finale, Chapter 3

by Unknown's avatar

III

 

A creaking noise roused Melisande early the next morning. Hoping to avoid a lecture from Sister Mary, she got up and got dressed quickly. Once again, she threw open her windows and peered out. To her amazement, the sun had barely peaked over the horizon. It was earlier than she was used to waking up.

Melisande was about to go back to sleep when she noticed that the tide had receded around the abbey. She didn’t know how much time she had until the bells woke everyone up, so she quickly turned away from the window. Without a thought to the consequences, she opened the door as quietly as she could, and tiptoed down the steps. She moved slowly and noticed that her hands were shaking. She couldn’t understand whether or not it was the fear of getting caught, or just anticipation of being able to finally escape the abbey.

It was not the first time that Melisande had run off and she had never been caught previously, but she still had to be careful. It wasn’t long before she reached the kitchen and took a left turn down another corridor that led her to a familiar tunnel. The ground was damp as she made her way out of the area.

Melisande’s feet carried her quickly along the stone floor. Once she reached the door at the end of the tunnel, she slowly pushed it open and ran outside. She once again found herself in the courtyard.

As the sun came up over the horizon, she ducked down behind a tree and slowly made her way toward the main gate. A series of trees and bushes were her only cover from the watchful eyes of the guards. Sneaking around had dirtied her clothes, but she did not care. This was her one indulgence, and if she was to get in trouble for it, so be it.

Melisande knew exactly when the guard shift change happened and waited until they moved apart. Once the guards were out of sight, she slipped past them and made her way out of the abbey. She was as quiet as possible, as she knew that the guards were ready for anything. The abbey wasn’t a military installation, but the church had become very protective of its grounds following the protestant uprisings.

Melisande found herself standing at the top of the stony hill leading down to the beach. She was only wearing sandals, so she had to be extra careful to mind her footing. She did not want to riskfalling and either getting hurt, or making enough noise for the guards to find her.

It took a short time for Melisande to reach the sand below. Her feet skidded every few moments as small stones gave out underneath her feet. It was a slow and treacherous climb, but her feet finally touched the damp, coarse, soil of the beach. She pulled off her sandals and let her feet dig into the sand. Her toes pressed down hard as though she would float away if she released them.

Melisande looked around for a few moments, enjoying her newfound freedom, and then, without warning, darted out towards the water, running as fast as she could. She turned and ran even faster along the shore line. She didn’t want to stop, but after ten minutes of running, the muscles in her legs began to ache in response to how hard she pushed. Finally, she gave her legs a break, let the waves caress her toes, and took in a deep breath of fresh air. Her eyes watered as the clean air filled her lungs. She was in Heaven.

Smiling, Melisande turned back and looked at the abbey. From outside, it was quite beautiful. The massive castle stood high above the water, completely covering the small island where it had been built. Nature was its main defense as any invading army would need to wait for low tide before trying to enter.

Melisande stood with her back to the ocean for a few more moments as the breeze passed over her skin. Euphoria had almost taken her when a noise in the distance made her jump. She turned quickly and noticed two ships on the horizon. They were miles out at sea and she was unable to tell what was happening. There was another low noise that sounded like distant thunder, and another, and another.

As the ships came closer, Melisande noticed that one of them had been badly damaged. They were both small ships bearing different flags with several colors. One ship had a black flag, while the larger, more damaged, ship appeared to have a white and red flag. Smoke poured from the sides of both ships.

It was at that moment that Melisande realized that the two ships were fighting. She watched as the battle unfolded. Her heart raced in her chest as the larger ship began listing to port.

The ship tried to turn away from her attacker, but it was a useless effort. The smaller ship was faster and more maneuverable. Melisande watched in amazement as a final blast from the smaller ship’s guns struck the larger one’s hull. The shot quickly pierced through a layer of wood and struck the powder magazine. The powder sparked causing the ship burst into flames.

Melisande’s eyes widened as the ship tore itself apart from the inside and large wooden splinters littered the water around it. The massive explosion rocked the coastline as Melisande watched. Her heart was in her throat as she had never seen anything so exciting in her entire life.

Within a few moments of the explosion, there was nothing left of the first ship. Melisande looked on as the second ship picked up cargo and survivors from the water. She lingered for a few minutes to see if anything else would happen before turning away and starting her long walk home. Her feet carried her slowly over the sand towards the castle walls and felt like she was dragging a weight behind her.

Once Melisande was about half way back, she stopped and looked at the ship slowly disappearing on the horizon. Then she turned and looked at the castle again. The morning bells broke the silence and she realized that she would never make it back to her room before Sister Mary. If she went back now, it would mean punishment and demerits.

As Melisande looked over her lifelong home, she was filled with a sense dread. The idea of her having to spend another day living in such monotony was unbearable. She had secretly contemplated running away, but she knew that she’d have the guards on her in no time. Sister Mary would have the entire abbey out looking for her. Her only chance would be if she were to make it to the nearest town and somehow board a ship.

The battle she had just witnessed opened the flood gates to her desire for freedom. Her chest pounded as she thought of her life, and everything she was missing out on. She knew there was more to her story then what the nuns had told her. Her family or whatever was left of their story was out there waiting to be found.

Where is my real family and who were they? Why am I here now? In Melisande’s mind, she knew that these were questions that she’d never be able to answer while living in Mont St. Michael. Still, should she just up and run away? No doubt a lot of people went through considerable effort to shelter her and she still didn’t know why.

Melisande’s mind filled with questions and wrestled back and forth with the idea of leaving. She didn’t want to hurt those who took care of her for so long, and leaving most likely meant never seeing them again. Sister Mary, as strict as she was, did take care of her and Papi was the closest thing she’d ever had to a father.

Thoughts of them worrying about her made Melisande’s heart ache even more. What should I do? She thought to herself. I love them and I don’t want to hurt anyone… but I can’t live like this. I’m not a stable girl, nor am I a maid, that’s not the life I want. I’m certain I’ll die if I have to do this much longer.

Melisande fought through her emotions as she made up her mind. With tears in her eyes, she made her decision, she could not go back. The only way she was going to find out about her past was to escape this life and discover her adventure. The desire for freedom had been seeded in her mind and there was no going back now. It hurts, but I can’t do this any more, it’s not right.

Melisande quickly made her way back to the castle and was able to duck under a large cart delivering supplies while the tide was still low. Once it stopped moving, she wandered out and hid behind a tree, listening to the people nearby. A monk came out to meet the driver, “Peace be with you sir, I see you have brought our supplies.”

The man nodded, “Yes, yes, come on, we need to get these unloaded before the tide starts coming back in, I need to be on the road for Granville well before then.”

Melisande’s heart jumped, Granville is nearby and it’s a port city! If I hurry, I might be able to catch a ride!

She quickly raced up to her room and grabbed a bag. She quickly filled it with everything that she cared about and threw it over her back. She was about to leave when the corner of her eye caught the glimpse of reflected light. She looked up to see that the blade of one of her family’s swords had caught the sunlight. This was odd as the blades had almost no luster left to them. It was very odd, but to her, it almost seemed like the swords were asking to come with her.

How could I forget you? Melisande thought to herself. She quickly grabbed the swords of their wall mounting, wrapped them in a blanket, and placed them under her arm. With her free hand, she grabbed her old cloak, wrapped herself in it, and pulled the hood up.

The moment she was ready to go, Melisande quickly peaked out into the hall to make sure that Sister Mary wasn’t around. This whole adventure would be for nothing if she got caught. Knowing Sister Mary the way she did, she’d probably be locked in her room for days.

Fearing that the carriage was about to leave, or that someone may see her, Melisande raced back down stairs. She was relieved to see that the cart had not left yet. The monks were just finishing loading up the empty barrels from the cargo. She hid behind the bushes and waited for the right moment to jump in.

The hair on the back of the young woman’s neck shot straight up when she heard a familiar voice from behind the monks, “Brother Georgio, have you seen Melisande?”

Melisande jumped as an annoyed-looking Sister Mary appeared on the scene. The monk shook his head, “I’m sorry sister, no.”

The old nun shook her head, “Where could that troublesome girl be? She’s not in her room and no one has seen her.”

“I do not know.” The monk replied.

“Very well, Brother Georgio,” she replied, “if it’s not too much trouble, once you are finished here. Please assist me in locating her. The abbey is too big for me to search on my own.”

“As you wish.” Brother Georgio replied as he got back to unloading the cart.

Once they were done, the driver secured the back of the carriage to keep the barrels from rolling and bowed to the monk, “Thanks for the help, brother. We’ll see you again soon.”

The monk nodded, “Farewell to you sir.”

Melisande saw her chance to escape when the monk turned his back. She darted out quickly and jumped up onto the back of the cart. To prevent being seen, she quickly covered herself over with a leather blanket in the back.

Melisande huddled up next to the barrels and remained perfectly still as the driver cracked the reigns. There was a sudden jolt as the carriage began to move. It was anything but smooth and Melisande found herself getting bounced around as the carriage moved. She grabbed on to one side to steady herself and keep from getting banged up.

Melisande watched quietly as the cart moved away from the abbey. In her heart, she wished that she’d left a letter explaining what she was doing and where she was going, but she’d had no time to write one and she didn’t want to risk tipping them off as to where they could locate her. She decided that it was perhaps best to arrange a letter for them when she figured out where she was going.

The cart began to pick up speed as it departed Mont Saint Michel. Melisande kept getting bounced around and it was hard to keep from hitting against the barrels. It was a rough start, and she was most likely going to see some bruising from the ride, but she was excited to start her new life and had no idea where it would take her.

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.

jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com

I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.

Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!

Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

+

+ Comics, fantasy, Marvel, Opinion, Politics, Reading, Uncategorized

Meaningful Quote.

by Unknown's avatar

Lifted from BleedingCool.com:

“Publishers, get your politics out of my stores!

We live in a climate of polarity, with people being violently opposed to issues and events. Note the word “violently” and then think about what you’re bringing to our stores.  With every new proclamation from either the White House or CNN we have a new round of vitriol coming from the opposing side. 

I’ve always told my staff that we are the safe zone from what’s outside our doors.  I’ve been touting this policy before safe spaces were a thing, not because we need to be protected but because we provide entertainment. To be crystal clear, we provide entertainment. We are not mouthpieces for any polarizing cause nor is our shelf space for rent to any organization, left, right, or center.  If you want to support fighting cancer or bullying, all good. No one is fighting for worse cancers or more bullying.  If you want to put Planned Parenthood or the NRA on my stands, you’re getting no traction in my stores.  We are not for sale and we’re not going to undermine our store’s tranquility for your cause-of-the-month.

Get your politics off my stands.  Get political figures off the covers.  Get poorly disguised villains out of your books.  Get back to telling stories that don’t remind people of the vitriol and bile being spewed from every direction; we have enough outlets for that. You’re not being clever.  You’re not being altruistic.  You’re costing me the carefully built atmosphere that has allowed me to sell your books over the last 3+ decades to people of all races, creeds, genders, and sexual orientation as well as Democrats, Republicans, Libertarians, and no doubt a few anarchists as well.

Don’t screw that up.”

–Rich Johnston

Fight the good fight Rich, I’ve been saying the same thing for quite a while.

Ask you about your feminist agenda? I could really care less…

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.

jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com

I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.

Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!

Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

+

+ advice, fantasy, Fiction, Inspiration, Music, Uncategorized, Writing

From My Writing Playlist

by Unknown's avatar

Got a request to recommend a good ‘rock opera’ song. Really it doesn’t get any better than Avantasia and in particular this song! The Great Mystery has everything; chorus, amazing instrumentals, guest performance by metal legend Bob Catley from Magnum… oh yeah! This has to be on my list!

When to listen:  I’ll give you a hint, skip to 9:19. Then picture your favorite Disney animated classic. Yeah, this is an ending song. When you’re ready to close up your story, THE INTENSE ENERGY at the end of this song is what you want!

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.

jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com

I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.

Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!

Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

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