Jasmine Snippet #42

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“The Story of Jasmine” Notes Continue:

Suddenly, the princess Flavia of UR’s disappearance made complete sense. She could very well be a prisoner within this cave. Recalling the disturbed vines, it then occurred to Ahearn he was not the only one on the trail of the princess. Suddenly, a rash of questions bombarded his mind. Who had come before him? How long ago? What did they discover? Did they find her? What will he find? What will he encounter?

Although he yearned to rush ahead, he returned to the grotto above. He took special care to tend to his horse. He moved his horse to a small spring, so it would not thirst and also took this opportunity to feed the beast. There was no telling where the cave would lead him, or for how long he would be gone.

Ahearn cared well for his steed. They were good together. They had an understanding. This was partially why Ahearn was lauded  in his country as the Lord of Horses. The knot he tied was a special one, made in such a way the animal could free itself if it should become necessary. He removed the saddle, and placed it on a low branch off the ground. Holding the animal’s great head gently, Ahearn looked into its dark dewey eyes. He paused to rest his forehead against the front of it’s muzzle. The animal knew the significance of this action and acknowledged him with a whinny and a toss of the head.

Satisfied, Ahearn quickly packed some supplies to carry with him and disappeared into the mouth of the cavern.

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I should probably think of a name for Ahearn’s horse.

© 2018 DARLENE

Jasmine Snippet #41

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Notes for “The Story of Jasmine” continue:

In the glowing whiteness and silence of the mountaintop they found themselves whispering, as if in great reverence to nature’s accomplishment.

Standing on the outer precipice, they looked across the wide expanse of low hills and plains which they had just covered. It was then they realized they were between heaven and hell, between the sublime and the _____*

For a place known as the “Meeting Place of the Winds,” it was very still. It seemed to be a place of silence and secrets moved only by the wind.

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*These are merely notes to myself. Obviously, I had not yet figured out what word to use.

I recognize this snippet as being much further along in the story.

© 2018 DARLENE

Jasmine Snippet #40

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Notes for “The Story of Jasmine” continue:

The northern trek eventually led Ahearn into an area within the forest where there was a small grotto. At the grotto, he saw a strange and unexpected sight. From the looming darkness, it looked like there were thousands of glistening stars. He paused for a moment to make sense of what he was seeing. Moving closer, the stars became flowers. Small, delicate white flowers blossoming everywhere in this space.

Moving into the grotto, he noticed a greater thickness of flowers. Upon closer inspection, he discovered these bloom clusters enveloped a stone statue of a woman. He thought perhaps she was the guardian of this grotto until he studied the face. The workmanship was too real for a statue to be hidden in the forest. He quickly concluded it was a work of witchery. A woman had been turned to stone.

The statue was a young woman, who looked remarkably like the Princess of UR. If he hadn’t made a habit of studying faces, he might have mistook the statue for the princess. He logically concluded this must be her mother. He mused. “No wonder the Queen was never seen again after the birth of her daughter. There’s something foul to this mystery. Why was the woman turned to stone?”

Ahearn regarded the stance of the figure. It looked almost as if she had been protecting something behind her. Moving past the figure, he noticed many flower blooms had been disturbed. Many plants had been torn away and stomped upon. Someone had been here before him. The damage seemed to be recent. Parting the plants, he noticed a tunnel made of the living roots of trees, which led him to the entrance of a subterranean cave.

© 2018 DARLENE

 

Jasmine Snippet #39

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“The Story of Jasmine” notes continue:

The place of ambush happened at a juncture where a road diverged from the main one to the south, as if to avoid the inevitable hilly outcropping of stone. The main road continued eastward. However, by a small spring gurgling further away from the road, it looked like a lone rider traveled swiftly. Judging from the depth of the depression of the hoof marks, he did not travel light. But he was traveling fast in a new, southeasterly direction.

Ahearn followed these tracks into rocky terrain, where they were harder to discern, but distinct nonetheless. The tracks led Ahearn to a large, now abandoned, enemy encampment.

Not too long ago, there had been a lot of activity here, and a lot of men. The signs told him this was a large encampment. And as large as it was, he did not see any trace of bloodshed. He could easily tell the amount of activity entering and exiting the camp. At first, the task seemed daunting, to guess which of the three roads leading out of the camp were taken.

There was a road that continued eastward. Another tracked northward, while another still took a southernly route. Of the three routes, the northern trek, a steep rocky climb that promised to get steeper, seemed to be the least likely. But going south appeared equally unlikely. The logical direction they would have taken would have been east.

Yet, she did not arrive in Swartzborg. Therefore, she did not take the eastern road. So, north or south? To go south would be to eventually hit the coast. If they were planning that, they would have turned south immediately at the ambush site. That route was fast and easy. A good plan would be to have a ready ship in the harbor to sail them to Swartzborg. But as he already knew, she didn’t end up within the walls of Bardulf’s prison castle.

It’s north then, to the mountains, and on to more difficult terrain. As expected, the twisting and turning route headed towards higher ground. Traveling in between obstacles of boulders and gnarly trees, the way was cumbersome and slow. The path was also forested. Single file was the only way a group of men on horses could manage. This left their defenses vulnerable.

© 2018 DARLENE

Jasmine Snippet #38

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Notes from “The Story of Jasmine” continue:

To discover what fate befell the Princess of UR, there was nothing left for Ahearn to do but to trace the east-west main road, the supposed route she had taken from UR’s Eiodel Castle. He was determined to discover the story of her abduction in the marks left on the ground. And found them he did.

He clearly found significant signs in a place where a grove of trees sprung up in the middle of a meadow. It was an attractive stopping point, an oasis in the prairie lands where travelers and their animals could rest and renew themselves. It was an ideal spot, right before the meadow lands become a rocky, hilly landscape.

There, he discovered recent signs of battle The battle marks proved there was a struggle, and likely an abduction. Not only that, nearby, there were recent marked graves probably made by some passing URians, for the noble fallen. Ahearn mused, “no traveler  would want such a pleasant spot to be sullied by the sight and smell of stinking bodies.”

When he found a pink ribbon snared on the branches of a tree, he sighed. She had made it this far and did not die. If she had, there would be plenty of proof of it. He found himself glad she was alive. His promise to her father could be fulfilled. If there was a deeper reason as to why he was glad she was still alive, he didn’t entertain the thought.

© 2018 DARLENE

Jasmine Snippet #37

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The “Story of Jasmine” notes continue:

Bardulf wasn’t the only one secretly seeking the princess of UR. Although he claimed to have her hidden within his Castle Swartzborg, some were beginning to wonder why Bardulf had not yet made a public spectacle of marriage to immediately legitimize his hold on UR. The thought of this made the conquered Urian population shudder. There was idle speculation — bordering on hope — that the princess somehow escaped Bardulf’s clutches. Few in the Kingdom of UR wanted to believe she had actually been killed.

Despite the cold reception Prince Ahearn of Dockalfar received when he visited Eiodel on that lamentable visit, a fortnight ago, he felt honor-bound to discover the truth regarding the whereabouts of King Aranbrod’s daughter. Where was Princess Flavia of UR? He was determined to find out.

The first thing he did was to dress himself as inconspicuously as possible. He hid his black armor and that of his horse and donned the appearance of a mercenary. Ahearn liked the disguise. This meant he could still have his weapon handy.

He meant to infiltrate Bardulf’s largest castle, Swartzborg, to discover if she was being held there.

(Need a description of his trip to the enemy fortress and how he discovers she’s not there).

© 2018 DARLENE

 

Jasmine Snippet #36

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Notes for “The Story of Jasmine” continue:

It took Rogan two days to reach The Great White Throne. The unearthly glow served as a beacon to guide him. As he neared the ruins, he passed many stone statues. The thought occurred to him that these statues appeared to be too new to be gracing an ancient temple. But he wasted no more thoughts pondering this anomaly.

When his horse finally reached the periphery of the temple, Rogan was amazed to find the entire area littered with the same type of statuary. All were frozen in various gestures of surprise and fear. Then, for the first time Rogan became concerned. They looked like soldiers.

Could these statues once have been men … perhaps, maybe Bardulf’s men? This, he was about to find out.

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*I need to figure out just how far away the mountain shrine is to the village. I’m leaning towards one half a day’s walk for Jasmine, but much faster on a horse.

© 2018 DARLENE

Jasmine Snippet #35

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The “Story of Jasmine” notes continue:

Ieithoedd

The midday shadows began to lengthen toward evening as the dwarf Glynn Oakenshield sharpened his weapon. The dwarf had not yet made camp as there were several more hours of day left, yet he could not travel with a dull battle axe.* As he scraped away the metal burr of the blade, he sensed some movement a little ways off behind him. Now distracted, Glynn grabbed his half-honed weapon and stalked toward the sound.

Traveling on higher ground, above the main road, his vantage point and concealment was excellent. “What’s this?” He said to himself, scratching his chin through his thick reddish beard.

“Must be a woman.” He thought as he watched the progress of a willowy figure cloaked in grey. Disgust overcame him as he recalled a new independent attitude held by many young lasses. As he watched her regal stride, he judged this wench to be very foolish to travel alone without an escort of several armed men.

He wondered, “Could she be unaware that highway men and robbers frequent this road?” Then he remembered the two ruffians who worked the bridge up yonder. He sighed, shaking his head. Those unsavory men at the bridge were scum indeed — and he himself would not want to further dull the edge of his blade on them. That reminded him to take out his whet stone and finish what he started.

“That poor wench has nothing of value they could want,” mused Glynn, “save perhaps her virginity.” They will probably make sport of her first before they killed her.

“Such is stupidity’s reward.” He muttered out loud and hurried his task. He wanted to be well out of earshot of the girl’s inevitable screams.

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Obviously this snippet happens right before Glynn and Jasmine meet.

*The name of Glynn’s battle-axe is Ieithoedd.

Jasmine Snippet #34

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Notes from “The Story of Jasmine” continue:

Rogan’s traveling companion was in an exceedingly bad humor when they got to the room, “We are lost! My errand will be left unfulfilled!” She briskly paced around the room, cursing and ranting, “Bardulf seems like a cruel master. He will not help us.”

“He may not help us,”Rogan answered, lighting an oil lamp. The small flame was reflected in the maiden’s dark eyes.

Still in a foul mood, she replied with contempt, “If you beg favors from a thief as a diplomat, you are a great fool and no soldier. Oh, if I could be freed of these binding clothes and back into my armor, I shall feel much better. I feel naked without my sword at my side.”

The woman continued to pace the floor, like a caged animal and pulled at her chemise. Although being in that frock made her appear weak, Rogan knew that was deceiving. She could master a sword and a horse as well as he. She was a first rate Armildian battle maiden sent on a diplomatic mission for her country. Since a maiden in armor would create too much unwanted attention in this land, Rogan was dispatched to serve as her spokesman while the battle-maiden assumed a more demure posture. Rogan was, however, amused by the frustration she displayed for her uncustomary style of dress.

“That is strange indeed.” Remarked the battle-maiden as she opened the shutters. Although the sun had already set, she noticed a strange dull glow radiating from The Great White Throne mountain. “A glow does emanate from the mountain. Do you suppose the rumors are true? Could there be a priestess with power enough to make this glow? Do you suppose she has power enough to drive away Bardulf’s soldiers?”

They decided Rogan would go to the mountain temple to discover the truth of the matter. If there was such a maiden, he would discover her fate. If she was still there, and victorious over the soldiers who sought to claim her, he would endeavor to ask for her advice and assistance. Perhaps her magic was strong enough to help them. So as not to rouse suspicion, the battle-maiden agreed to stay behind.

But she would use that time wisely.

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This version of the inn room scene with Thorne and Rogan is slightly different from another one I wrote. In the other version, Rogan appears to have decided to check out The Great White Throne himself. If this is the case, the trip would appear to be shorter than a 2 days journey from the inn.

There is still another version where, at the inn, Glynn strikes up a conversation with Rogan who tells him some news which prompts Glynn to get up and leave. But Rogan decides to accompany Glynn on his journey to The Great White Throne.

© 2018 DARLENE

Jasmine Snippet #33

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Notes for “The Story of Jasmine” continue:

Vallenwain* was a village not distant from the Blue Mountains and the Crystal Hollows. It was well known for its hospitality towards weary travelers. And it chanced that on one autumn day, a man and his companion entered Vallenwain to pass the night. The innkeeper, being a talkative affable soul, entered into ready conversation. Then he asked if the man’s female companion had hair of a blonde color.

Dumbfounded by such an unusual query, the stranger looked at his companion, who pulled the hood of her cloak from her head. Unruly coal-black tresses fell about her shoulders. “Tell me, innkeeper,” she said coldly, “must I be blonde to pass the night under your roof?”

“No, no, no, indeed, lady,” the inn keeper replied quickly, “everyone is welcomed here. And it is a blessing ye are dark of hair.”

“And why would this be?” the red-haired stranger asked.

“Woe to any man who hath a daughter or a beloved who is blonde of hair. They are taken from their homes and families by soldiers from down south. They were only here this morning and now three village maidens are lost to us, sisters… Will you be staying one night?”

After all arrangements for their stay had been completed and after dinner was served, the stranger, who gave his name as Rogan, asked who the soldiers belonged to. To that, the bartender exclaimed, “Why Bardulf, of course!”

“Bardulf?”

“Ye must have traveled far indeed not to know about the treachery of Bardulf. They call him ‘the dark prince’ and two seasons past, he’s defeated the great Kingdom of UR. His treachery stretches far.”

The dark-haired maiden interrupted, “What news of King Aranbrod?”

After a moment’s hesitation, the man answered, “Some say his heart broke when he heard his daughter was bedded to this man against her will. Some say he escaped from his own dungeon in Aer and hopes to raise an army against his usurper. There are many rumors. But no one knows the truth for sure save the King himself.”

The woman closed her eyes and sighed. Rogan shook his head, “Sad news, indeed.” He said, then asked, “Tell me, friend, are Bardulf’s men still in this village?”

The bartender answered, “Not any more. Most traveled back south with our village maids in tow. The rest remained to investigate what’s happening at The Great White Throne, a mountain not far from here. There’s an ancient temple that rests in the seat of that mountain. Everyone here knows well enough to stay away from that place.”

The bartender then told them of the strange rumors floating about regarding a maiden in white who showed up several days ago at the temple shrine. This coincided with an eerie glow coming from the mountain. He told them that some in the village believed that a wondrous maiden rekindled the magic of that forbidden place. The man added, “None in Vallenwain would betray her presence, but for a few pieces of gold, an old warrior-dwarf agreed to guide them to her.”**

Rogan thanked him for his time and his news and retired to his appointed chamber.***

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*elsewhere called Oxted

**This last sentence makes no sense to me. It must refer to Glynn. I wonder what I was thinking back then.

*** In another bit of writing, I have Thorne informing Rogan of this news, but don’t have the actual conversation.

This seems to be a slightly alternate version from the posting yesterday.

© 2018 DARLENE