The Serialists - Scene 84

I'm now posting with The Serialists which appears on Wednesdays.

To recap this dark fantasy story so far:

As a small boy of seven, Scorpius was fetched from the nursery where he'd been raised to live among the nobility - fetched not by his family, but by a falconer to serve as his apprentice.

Scorpius soon learned that a close encounter with a dragon was preferable to the cruelties of the nobles he'd once hoped were family. His master did whatever he could to shield Scorpius from the world outside their cottage, but the falconer was merely a servant who must obey his own masters.

An attempt on the life of a young noble while on a hunt sent the falconer and his apprentice on abruptly different paths, bringing Scorpius into the service of Lord Thibault's noble house.

We now continue with Scorpius at age nineteen.

You can follow the progress of this story arc by clicking on the Works in Progress link just under the blog header.


Scene 84

Whipping around to keep his sights on the rest of the Sibiu, Scorpius prepared himself for a fight.

He found only men standing with bowed head, their lips moving in prayer.

Looking back to see the aide pulling his knife free of his kinsman’s back, Scorpius’ heart raced as he made ready to flee. But the Sibiu weren’t as distracted as he’d hoped.

Strong hands took hold of his bound arms and held him in place. He knew it was useless to struggle, but he couldn’t stop himself from wrestling against their grip.

The man who’d been stabbed started to sag slightly in the arms of the aide. Perhaps sensing the suffering of the one in their midst, the animals in the herd shifted and bleated uneasily.

Adding to the sense that the very ground beneath Scorpius’ feet had turned to sand, an eerie tune filtered skyward. Craning his neck to stare, Scorpius saw several of the Sibiu blowing into carved wooden pipe instruments. The hair on the back of his neck rose at the sound of the music, at the cries of the herd and the gasping of the stabbed man.

Dragging him so that Scorpius stumbled backward, the Sibiu forced him down onto his face, pressed close to the sheer rock of the mountain pass. Joining him as near as they could, the Sibiu who held him fast ducked their heads low and continued to pray.

At first it was so distant, he thought he imagined it.

But it was a thing to haunt one’s dreams, as it had done for most of his life. Ever since that horrifying day when he still lived at the nursery, the day his little friend had not rolled quickly enough under the hole in the fence. The smell of her burning flesh, her screech of agony, the sound of the leathery wings gliding overhead had never left him.

When Richolf had come for Scorpius, when he was still a young boy, it had flown overhead as he’d tried to make his way to the Pillar Rock. His former master had rolled him beneath a rock ledge just as these Sibiu were doing now.

Over the rising din of the animals, which scattered and ran in circles as they failed to find a route off the ridge, Scorpius heard it now. The Sibiu kept playing their pipes and praying, but the sickening sound of the enormous wings seized hold of him, leaving him frozen with dread.

Scorpius would have given anything—anything—to be spared the sight and sound and smell of this. Trembling with fear, he could only watch as the aide kissed the dying man’s forehead, then broke their embrace and ran as fast as anyone Scorpius had ever seen. The herd ran frantically with him, their eyes white with terror.

But the dragon swooped low, its size and speed too great for those on the ground. The running man dove to the edge of the ridge and disappeared from view just as the man he’d left behind finally sagged in a heap upon the smooth rock.

An intense blast of heat lit the mountain pass. Wind raced ahead of the dragon’s fire, whipping Scorpius’ hair into his eyes, stealing the breath from his lungs.

The piped music, the bleating, the praying, the scream of the stabbed Sibian all fell away under the deafening roar from that scaly throat.

© Julia Phillips Smith, 2012

2012 Movie Madness Challenge - January Report

Welcome to my first status report for the Movie Madness Challenge.

First of all - just wanted to say I am having a BALL doing this challenge. The only thing that takes the bloom from this rose: when I heard about it, my first thought was how much my dog Xena would approve of my participation, since it would give us a lot of snuggle time on the couch.

But life had different plans for us, and Xena passed away on Jan. 6th, before I had been able to watch even one film for this challenge. At first I couldn't even sit in my regular spot on the couch without her curled up with me.

Over the past 11 years, we have watched a lot of films together. So I dedicate this entire Movie Madness Challenge to her.












Here is my code for the films:

New to me - N
Repeat viewing - R

I'll also be including how I viewed the films:

DVD
VHS (yes, we have a lot of those, and a VCR)
Pay TV
In theatre



Ever After

R

Pay TV



















Green Lantern

R

DVD











Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson

R

VHS
















The Crimson Petal and The White

N

Pay TV







Ladyhawke

R

DVD











Let Me In

N

DVD









Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of The Black Pearl

R

DVD


Ultimately, I'm shooting for Movie Master bragging rights:

25 Movies: Movie Newbie

50 Movies: Movie Fanatic

75 Movies: Movie Critic

100+ Movies: Movie Master

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Total movies for January - 7

Total movies for 2012 - 7

Six Sentence Sunday - 1

I'm joining a new-to-me meme called Six Sentence Sunday. Writers are encouraged to post six sentences from a work-in-progress or published piece. Sign into the Linky, and visit other SSS participants.

Here are the opening lines from my Dark Ages vampire novel, SAINT SANGUINUS, which opens in Wales in 577.

~~~~~~~~

Peredur coughed up blood.

Moans hung in the autumn air as women picked carefully between the tangled embraces at their feet. He could only watch them pass. A spear pinned him to the ground as the sun made ready to set without him.

His lips fought to form the name of his beloved. Tanwen.

5 on Friday - Set 103

Travis at Trav's Thoughts invites everyone to lay down a short set of music that takes their fancies for his 5 on Friday meme.

















My good writing buddy/film producer Tara MacDonald/Tara MacQueen invited me to a concert last Wednesday night, hosted by In the Dead of Winter, an acoustic music festival here in Halifax, Nova Scotia.

Here's a little taste of what the evening sounded like:

1 - Swing Song - Don Brownrigg

Don Brownrigg is a Newfoundland-born, Halifax-based singer-songwriter. LOVED his set.



2 - In It - Don Brownrigg



3 - Words - Shawn Colvin

She did a lot of cover tunes in Wednesday's concert. It was a really nice peek into her personal favorites list.



4 - Sunny Came Home - Shawn Colvin



5 - Hold On - Shawn Colvin

This Tom Waits cover was my favorite tune of the night.

The Serialists - Scene 83

I'm now posting with The Serialists which appears on Wednesdays.

To recap this dark fantasy story so far:

As a small boy of seven, Scorpius was fetched from the nursery where he'd been raised to live among the nobility - fetched not by his family, but by a falconer to serve as his apprentice.

Scorpius soon learned that a close encounter with a dragon was preferable to the cruelties of the nobles he'd once hoped were family. His master did whatever he could to shield Scorpius from the world outside their cottage, but the falconer was merely a servant who must obey his own masters.

An attempt on the life of a young noble while on a hunt sent the falconer and his apprentice on abruptly different paths, bringing Scorpius into the service of Lord Thibault's noble house.

We now continue with Scorpius at age nineteen.

You can follow the progress of this story arc by clicking on the Works in Progress link just under the blog header.


Scene 83

Scorpius squeezed the dukessa’s dragon ring once more for courage.

Then an idea struck.

“I cannot speak for my master,” Scorpius said to the leader. “I can only speak for myself. If you will retrieve my ring, I’ll leave it with you as ransom for the proposal set forth by my master. When your business with him is done, I will retrieve it. If you are agreeable.”

The leader looked again to his trusted aide. At a signal between them, the aide broke away and closed the distance between himself and Scorpius.

Straightening his hand as best he could in the circumstances, Scorpius felt the Sibian take hold of the ring and pull. A surprising sense of loss coursed through him.

As though the Sibian felt it, too, the fighter gasped as if he’d been run through with a blade. For a breathless moment, Scorpius was certain they all could hear the way his heart pounded.

The aide backed away from him, holding the ring as though it were made of jagged glass. He crossed the clearing to present the ring to their leader, who took hold of it with wary fascination.

In a hushed tone, he spoke a single word in the Sibian language.

The band of fighters repeated his whispered word, shrinking back from Scorpius as though licked by fire.

What was going on? He fought for breath, hands straining against the bonds behind his back.

The leader and his aide bent their heads together in frantic debate. Scorpius watched as the rest of the band grew pale, their haunted gazes raking him with dread.

When the aide bolted away into the shadows, Scorpius felt the undercurrent of alarm among the men rise even higher. His fingers reflexively reached for the ring he’d just offered as surety.

Grumpy bleating and tingling bells announced the arrival of a modest herd of animals. The aide drove them through the pass to an open ridge. As he moved the animals into position, the lead Sibian approached his men, holding the ring high.

In a grave tone, he spoke to them in their own tongue. Scorpius saw the men bow their heads, all save one, who looked directly at him. Using every scrap of courage he possessed, Scorpius met this man’s gaze.

The Sibian looked back at the ring, then up at the sky as though listening for the whoosh of those leathery wings. Then he bowed deeply before the leader, touching his lips to the ring before heading to the ridge to stand among the herd.

The aide passed him on his way back to join the others. He stopped and they embraced for a long moment.

When the aide’s knife plunged into the other man’s back, Scorpius’ blood ran cold.

© Julia Phillips Smith, 2012

My book is featured @ ISelfPub today

Melissa Alvarez has launched a new website for indie authors to promote their books.

ISelfPub offers three promo options:

Book of the Day - Five spots featured on the Home page, with a link to an individual, in-depth promo piece for a 24-hour period, plus mention in ISelfPub's daily newsletter/Facebook/Twitter/Google+

Book of the Week - Featured at the top of the Home page in a slideshow format for a one-week period, plus Book of the Day features

Book of the Month - Featured prominently at the top of the sidebar, plus Book of the Day features

I'm very happy with SAINT SANGUINUS' feature there - thanks, Melissa!

5 on Friday - Set 102

It's a big day here at A Piece of My Mind!







Two years ago my blog friend Travis started a musical meme that he called 5 on Friday. I joined this Friday event two sets in, and have barely missed a week since. It's one of the highlights of my week.

I've met many good blog friends since then. Happy 2nd Anniversary to all of us as we keep spinning the tunes!

1 - Donauwalzer or Blue Danube - Vienna State Opera Orchestra



2 - Retour de la vendange or The Grape-Pickers' Return - Composed by Adolphe Adam, performed by the American Ballet Orchestra

The piece included for today's celebration starts at the 0:15 mark, and ends at the 2:52 mark. Giselle is danced by Carla Fracci in this clip, and Albrecht is danced by Erik Bruhn.



3 - Etudes - Composed by Carl Czerny, performed by the Royal Danish Ballet Orchestra

The section meant for today's set begins at the 5:03 mark and ends at the 7:19 mark.



4 - Firebird finale - Composed by Igor Stravinsky, Conducted by Michael Tilson Thomas, performed by the San Francisco Symphony



5 - Apotheosis from Sleeping Beauty - Composed by Pyotr Tchaikovsky based on the pre-French Revolution national anthem Marche Henri IV, Conducted by Laurence Siegel, performed by the Radio Symphony Orchestra