Novel Chapter 2

I finished revising Chapter 2 of my novel yesterday. Since I had almost entirely re-written the chapter, I wanted to revisit it one more time before declaring I was done with the latest draft. So revision number five of my novel is finally complete. I’m posting a portion of Chapter 2 below, not the entire chapter like I did with Chapter 1. My next step is to print out a copy and go through it in order to make some final minor revisions in addition to adding a few details here and there. After that, it should be ready to send out.

***

Chapter 2

The campfires burned a deep red in the darkness, hundreds and hundreds of them glowing like the fierce eyes of dragons, and it was a dragon who camped outside the city walls of Alecon, waiting silently in the darkness to strike. He would burn Perceval’s castle to the ground, but for now, he was waiting patiently across the darkened field, the eyes ever watchful and vigilant.Caelen stood along the battlements staring out at the black field spotted with fire, the smell of woodsmoke strong on a brisk wind. In the dim light, he could see the dragon banner rippling above Cobus’ tent. A few years had passed since the assassination of Lolek, and in that time, Cobus had managed to seize the majority of the kingdom of Aricin away from Perceval, and now Perceval, like his dead brother, clung to life, grasping and choking inside his fortress of stone.

Death awaited everyone inside Alecon. In time, Cobus would storm the walls and they would die, or he would starve them and they would die, but either way, the end was the same.

Death has no master.

Caelen hoped Cobus would come, hoped he would lead his men across the field, and that was why Caelen stayed in Alecon. He could have left. He could have followed his lord back east to Cenlis, but he was needed here. Caelen touched his sword’s pommel, a piece of iron fashioned in the shape of a wolf, and he thought of his father and brothers. He was needed in Alecon.

A man called to him from the courtyard below. “The king wishes to see you.”

Perceval was forever referring to himself as king. A baseless title for a defeated man. By blood he was a duke, the brother of a once great king and nothing more. Lolek had an heir, who by blood was the true king, but he had been taken south into the country of wine, and many doubted he still lived. He was a sickly child who had escaped the clutches of death on more than one occasion.

“Tell him I’m coming,” Caelen called back to the man.

Caelen climbed down from the wallwalk and crossed the courtyard to the tower keep. He ascended a wooden staircase to the second floor of the tower and pushed open the double doors. Inside, the hall was empty except for Duke Perceval sitting on the opposite side of the room, his head bent as if in prayer.

He should be praying. We should all be praying.

Caelen crossed in front of the fire pit, the logs crackling and sputtering smoke upwards into the rafters. Perceval did not look up from the sword laying across his knees, a sword of finely tempered steel, crimson and golden in the firelight. It was a magnificent blade, and the colors swirled and danced in its frame. It was the blade that had nearly won him his kingship.

Caelen’s boots scraped the rushes as he came closer, and Perceval looked up. The duke coughed.

“Talfor has not returned with a relief force.” He coughed again. “You are his man. I need you to ride to Cenlis and find out what is keeping him.”

“He will be back soon, lord,” Caelen said.

In fact, he was not sure Talfor would return. It had been nearly four weeks since the count had left, but Caelen did not say this. He wanted to assure the duke that Talfor would come back because Caelen needed to kill Cobus, and to do that, he needed to remain in Alecon.

“Give him a few more days,” Caelen added.

“Do you think we will live if I wait a few more days?” Perceval asked. It was an honest question from a desperate man.

“Yes, lord.” Caelen did not answer honestly.

Cenlis was over a two days ride, and if he waited to leave in three days, it would be almost a week before he reached Cenlis, and then another two or three days to return. A week might be too long, and by then, Cobus might control the castle, and Caelen would miss his best opportunity to kill him. He touched the wolf head pommel of his sword.

Perceval coughed. “And if he storms the walls?”

“He will not storm the walls, lord. He is trying to starve us out.”

Perceval started to speak but coughed more violently this time.

Caelen continued: “And long before we run out of food, he will return and lift the siege.” Caelen said it with as much conviction as possible, but he could see that Perceval knew, like himself, that they did not have a few days to spare.

The duke shook his head. “You will ride to Cenlis tonight.”

“Just a few more days, lord.”

“No!” And in that moment, Perceval sounded like a king again.

But men did not follow words. They followed swords, and many had followed the sword path with Cobus to Alecon, and they waited with the dragon lord outside the castle walls, every one of them eager to kill and to rape and to plunder.

“I will go tonight,” Caelen said. A desperate and defeated man could not be persuaded.

“May the Father and the saints bless your journey.” Perceval coughed. The duke had made his peace.

Caelen left the hall and crossed the bailey to the stables. He mounted his horse, kicked his heels, and his horse galloped across the yard. Upon reaching the east wall of the castle, he exited through a postern gate being held open by one of the guards. The hidden entrance slammed shut behind him. He was alone in a field, and across the clearing was the forest, and to his south were the enemy campfires burning red in the darkness. Behind him, curls of gray smoke rose from the torches along the battlements, and the wind snapped at the flags flying above the walls. Caelen wondered how long those banners would remain before the dragon banner flew there instead.

Caelen turned in all directions to see if anyone was following him as he crossed the field. It was difficult to see much of anything, though in the distant firelight, he thought he could make out the outlines of the enemy soldiers around their tents, and beyond the tents were the silhouettes of Cobus’ war machines and siege towers black against the orange light. Caelen reached the edge of the forest. He could hear the wind rustling the white branches and the leaves stirring, and beyond, in the darkness, the earth slept to the breathing of the wind and the rushing of water cascading over rocks. But behind him was death.

Death all around. A ring of fire encircling Perceval’s tomb.

And that was exactly where Caelen wanted to be, inside the walls waiting for death to come in a flurry of screams and blood and steel. Blood for blood. Caelen took one last look at Alecon and then vanished under the cover of the trees.