23
Dip, Drip
Ulrica trailed after Aurelius, who aimed for the closest stream. “Will this suffice?” he asked.
“Aye, for its fresh.”
“Sea water wouldn’t work?”
Ulrica trailed after Aurelius, who aimed for the closest stream. “Will this suffice?” he asked.
“Aye, for its fresh.”
“Sea water wouldn’t work?”
Zing! When a second pebble hit his cheek, Aurelius’s pride stung. So he retaliated, but not in kind. Continue reading Deuce, Chapter 22: Honor, Honesty
Aurelius spent a rowdy night with his father, uncles, brothers, and older cousins. They acknowledged his accomplishment by drinking a cask dry, then embarking on a spine-tingling game of death dare. But he woke the next morning to an aching head, a wagon-load of barrels to shift, and six shipboard stalls to clear. Continue reading Deuce, Chapter 21: Mucking, Moping
This is what he’d been looking forward to. Seeing Ulrica in action. And in his current role, the view was sublime. Aye, she was twelve. But she was also relentless, resourceful, and ridiculously eager. — excerpted from Deuce
The Galleries of Stone trilogy is complete, but there are plenty of stories left to tell. As time allows, I’m framing a new trilogy that’s full of Meadowsweets, Harrows, and even a Rakefang or two. And short stories are scheduled to make an appearance at regular intervals. And then there’s Deuce. This serial delves into the history of two characters who would scoff at being labeled “minor.” Today, I thought I’d share some artwork that I’ve had tucked away since this story was in the planning stages. Continue reading ART: Team Hunt [Deuce]
Ulrica and her brother danced with exceptional polish, as if trained to the art, yet with obvious enjoyment. All through the evening, Aurelius catered to their whims with extravagant compliments, discreet haggling, and a net bag of melons. Frey’s instructors would doubtless enjoy them, and Aurelius’s pockets were weighted with more coin than he’d carried since … ever. Continue reading Deuce, Chapter 20: Hill, Thrill
Ulrica found her prey loitering behind a pierced screen. “Run away with me?” she whispered.
Freydolf frowned at his sister, then scanned the crowded room. In low tones, he replied, “Give me any excuse, and I’ll ensure our swift escape.”
In a trifling, they were out a window, over the wall, and away. Continue reading Deuce, Chapter 19: Persimmon, Pearls
Aurelius strutted along the wharf, head high, eyes fixed on the red sails that had always meant home. Uphill families might look down on dockside folk, but merchants had their place and their pride. Tooth and claw, rip and raw—we are Pred. Continue reading Deuce, Chapter 18: Shrewd, Shrew
Head high, Lyall Rakefang strutted through the gates and into the clan house and presented his daughter to a gathering of austere uncles, haughty aunts, and envious cousins. Ulrica’s trophy pelt and painted skin sent the whole lot into a stir. Comments and compliments. Gasps and glee. Her triumph was theirs to boast, and she felt their pride in her accomplishment. Continue reading Deuce, Chapter 17: Sister, Brother
Aurelius slowed as he neared the edge of open territory. Several adults lounged along the edge of the creek that served as its boundary. Traditionally, one family member stood vigil, for no one could say when their young hunter might return. Will it be Father? Nay. A sixth son doesn’t warrant any such consideration. Continue reading Deuce, Chapter 16: Bitter, Better
Ulrica was about to smear the excess of blood on her hands over her arms when Aurelius caught her wrist. A downhill boy. A dockside commoner. A lowly merchant. Her indignation should have blazed, yet she restrained the instinct to turn her claws on him. Continue reading Deuce, Chapter 15: Rite, Ritual