Lucky 7 Excerpt From Sword of Mordrey

Chilham Castle

Many thanks to Audrey Kalman and Melissa Crytzer Fry, both of whom nominated me to play Lucky 7 with my WIP. These women are wonderful bloggers and I suggest you take a moment and check out their blogs. You won’t be disappointed. Audrey’s posts about the craft of writing are helpful and often make me think of aspects of writing from a new angle. And Melissa pays tribute to Arizona’s natural world as she asks questions that apply to writing in particular, and life in general.

Thank you, ladies.

Almost everyone knows the rules by now, but in case you don’t, here they are.

The tagged writer must:

1. Go to page 77 of the current WIP.
2. Go to line 7.
3. Post the next 7 sentences as they appear in the manuscript.
4. Tag 7 blogging writers. (I’m going to skip this part. While I have enjoyed reading all the posts and getting glimpses into so many enticing WIPs, I feel this game is winding down.)

Sword of Mordrey is set during the first crusade, and the year just after it. This bit of exposition that came up in my WIP is from the view point of Tristan, a bard who travels medieval England. He’s on his way to Chilham Castle, but has become disoriented in a storm and seeks refuge in a castle perched upon a high cliff above the ocean, its stone walls black and running with rain. He enters the great hall and begs leave of the lord to remain until the storm abates, offering to entertain them with song in exchange for food and shelter. Permission is granted, but Tristan soon has feelings of foreboding about the place.

        Tristan set down his pack and rested his precious lute on the bench the gatekeeper hauled near. He looked around himself as he removed his sodden cloak and spread it over the bench to dry. The hall was a strange mixture of opulence and squalor. Rich tapestries hung from the walls, but they were dark with years of soot from the smoking hearth. Elaborately carved wooden pillars, thick as the trunks of ancient trees, held up the high, smoke-blackened, heavy-beamed roof far above him. Where most halls were draped and decked with yuletide greenery this time of year: mistletoe, ivy and holly, this hall lacked any sign of the coming celebration of Christ’s birth. Torches blazed along the soot-stained walls.

Thank you for stopping by. Be sure and check out Audrey and Melissa’s blogs, and have a wonderful writing and reading week!

An illustration of the first crusade.

About these ads