It's a Keeper!
And a thing to ponder
Yes, book 5 to Sword of Cho Nisi is now in pre-launch, but instead of just barking about my book I want to give you a little excerpt and a little backstory.
I wrote The Keeper after Darkness Holds the Son. The series up to this point had been high fantasy in a different kind of world with some medieval flavor, and a touch of Native American flavor as seen in the Cho Nisi island. (I used to live next to the Navajo reservation in Arizona. Our family was so well accepted by the Dine people that they even had us travel by wagon to their homes and build hogans for them…they liked ours better than the ones the government gave them supplies for. We built ours from cedar logs and adobe. Anyway, I’m getting off topic, now).
After writing that story I fondly call “Darkness” about missing children, I wanted to move the world on a bit in both geography and time.
What could be more of a threat to the Potamian Kingdom?
Technology.
Anyone who knows me knows I would have preferred that we all moved back in time before the Industrial Revolution and still depend on horses, hand crafts, and home gardens, but that’s another story altogether.
Short synopsis
The ancient magic on the island of Cho Nisi is stolen, its tradition destroyed, and its protective shield ruined. Not only do the thieves steal the island's magic, but barrels of wine are pilfered from the famous Tellwater Valley, and then Lady Anna disappears.
This puts King Barin in a difficult situation and when he learns his most trusted weapon is also gone, the kingdom panics.
But no one is as quick to come to Cho Nisi's rescue as the young son of Erika and Arell. Maurice who, unfortunately forgets to tell anyone where he's going or how he's going to get there.
Enter The Keeper.
An excerpt
High above the crow’s nest, the admiral’s cabin hung from lines attached to a mast made specifically to support its weight. , Geraldo enjoyed swinging above everyone when moored. Waylen knocked on the door.
“Enter.”
The admiral relaxed in his hammock holding a tin mirror over himself, admiring a newly made breastplate he wore. Typical of the man to be enraptured with his reflection.
Waylen was used to the admiral’s antics. He shuddered, though, for even in the captain’s cabin high on the mast he could not escape the vibration that The Machine created, nor did the closed door mute the sound.
“Waylen? Did it go well, I trust? I heard you out there on the island. Very nice voice, though a bit heavy on the vibrato,” he added. Waylen waited for the admiral to glance his way. “We’ve had an interesting friendship these last few years.”
“Yes, sir,” Waylen said.
“You saw me through some difficult times. It’s not easy being a genius and a pauper.”
“No, sir.”
“I thank you for your suggestion that we take this voyage, and of course, beseeching King Delitar to pay for it.” He blew breath on his fist and rubbed the armor, adjusting the angle of the mirror to see its shine.
“I suggested a voyage, not necessarily this one,” Waylen mumbled. This voyage had become extremely dangerous. Not what Waylen had expected.
“Yes, I know. You wanted to harvest ivory much further north of here. But anyone can do that. I needed an assignment that would make me stand out among the crowd. I’m surprised how easily this is coming together. You picked a wonderful crew, Waylen.”
It is ironic that the admiral should say that since Waylen had no choice whatsoever in the selection of these sorcerers. Geraldo had chosen Airmed for her beauty and after that, she chose her partners from the Neverworld.
“The magic belonged to the people living here,” Waylen grated.
“Yes, well, I didn’t come to disturb the people who live here, only to make use of their resources. We’re doing them a favor, re-proportioning wealth of which they had little understanding and of which I and King Delitar could utilize to its utmost capacity.” He threw his legs over the hammock and sat upright. “This armor, my friend, is constructed from material that far surpasses any textile this primitive nation can boast and yet the people in Potamia own the commodities needed to manufacture it. We’re merely helping them see the benefit of worldly goods that are at their fingertips.”
“You could have asked to have it instead of stealing it.”
Geraldo chuckled. “That would have been foolish. Do you think they would have understood?”
Waylen shook his head and eyed a water glass on the man’s desk. “Sir, I think you don’t give these people enough credit.”
“I give them all the credit I’m going to. I didn’t come here to balance things. I came here to conquer, if you will. Have a drink, Waylen,” Geraldo offered.
Waylen helped himself.
“What are you trying to say?” Waylen asked as he swallowed, a little less hoarse than before.
“This Armor is made from fermented grapes, my dear fellow. And wine in this country is abundant in a valley called Tellwater. Once we appropriate enough of this wine for King Delitar’s army and for fuel for his airships, we will instruct the locals in the technology.”
Waylen raised his brow. Something didn’t seem right.
“Take a look at this! Come, feel it,” Geraldo tapped his knuckles on the deep burgundy breast plate. Waylen stepped forward and stroked its surface. Silky, cold, and hard. It would make an army strong in its defense.
“Have you ever felt such a solid shell in such a rich color? The framework is as hard as steel, yet flexible like leather. “Smell it,” Geraldo lifted the item to his nose and breathed in. “That is the scent of black cherry, cassis, with notes of savory spice. Delicious!”
He wet his lips and picked up his goblet filled with the wine of Tellwater Valley. “Soon our country will be brim full with such armor and at what expense? A few islanders deprived of a little magic. No bloodshed, only cunning and wit.”
“It’s not fair,” Waylen said.
“You’re missing the point, Waylen.” He looked wide-eyed at the wizard, his face red, his voice raised. “I do not need your verdict on what is fair or what is not fair. I need this magic. It’s the only way to get what I promised the king. My reputation is at stake here. You don’t know how hard I worked to get the king to finance this trip and now I’m in debt. If I don’t return with the goods, I could be imprisoned.”
Waylen shook his head. For all the years he’d worked with Geraldo, he had never seen him so adamant, and yet the reasoning was wrong.
“Is it not my duty as your friend and counsel to advise you when something is skewwhiff?”
“The only thing that’s skewwhiff is you. Do you know what this magic is worth? We have in our possession the power to stir the wind and churn the sea, to make roads disappear and reappear somewhere else.” The admiral waved his hands dramatically as he talked.
“It’s still no reason to demean the people who live here,” Waylen argued.
“Oh, crush it, Waylen. No one is around to hear me but you. I’m not better than anyone else, but if I want to look better, I need to talk as though I think I am. Come with me,” Geraldo demanded and stepped out his door.
Waylen followed Geraldo down the ladder and onto the deck just as the colors of dawn painted the sky. Geraldo took a deep breath with his eyes closed and a triumphant smile under his mustache. “The elements are ours, Waylen! Ours!”
Waylen cleared his throat and spoke cautiously. “The Cho Nisi sorcery is incredibly strong, sir. It will take all your men to control it. I’m hoping there are no accidents.”
“Accidents?” Geraldo laughed. “I’ve never known you or your team to have accidents.”
“My team?” Waylen asked with raised eyebrows.
“Your team, yes! You’re a wizard, are you not? You share in their abilities, don’t you?”
Waylen dismissed the admiral’s assumption. He was not at all similar to the Neverworld sorcerers, but the concept would be too difficult to explain to Geraldo.
“I’ll do my best to fulfill your wishes. I offer no promises.”
“I have faith in you.”
The admiral raised his hand for silence as the chanty of the sailors swept over the deck. They manned pulleys that lifted massive fans behind the sails. Men on the rigging attached the platforms that would hold the blowers near the masts. To each of those engines, they connected a spout from the boiler. Other sailors shoveled coal into the boiler’s oven, sending steam to each of the engines. Soon the fans spun, the sails billowed, and the ship moved. All to the rhythm of their song.
“Hey, oh, row, oh!
Set the boom and away we go.
To the wild and open sea, we flee,
Hey oh row oh me!
“Hear that? The sound of success. Good. We’re on our way!” Geraldo cheered with his fist in the air.
I hope I’ve pique your interest in this story. It’s been published and there is an edition out right now. But I’m revising and re editing and adding some bonus material to the books. Not only that but the hardcover edition is leather, like the prequels, with gold stamping and a textured gold foil dust jacket. A pretty book. And I may add illustrations if we do well.
The short stories that I’m serializing now will be a bridge from The Keeper to the next sequel Another Man’s Storm.
