Tag Archives: The Story of Jasmine

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.

____________________________

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 #32

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The notes from “The Story of Jasmine” continue:

Watching her form disappear in the distance, Glynn does not allow himself to feel remorse at this abrupt parting. He conceals the booty in his pack and enters the inn. Several hours later finds him laughing and enjoying the company of many people — dwarves and men alike. Glynn makes the acquaintance of a red-haired man who informs him that Oxted has had some unusual visitors.

“Soldiers from the south,” he says, “looking for a maiden I’m told.” After another swallow, the stranger continues, “Though only God knows what she’d be doing on the white mountain. People here seem to be scared of it.”

“Fool’s Hope?” Glynn looks up from his drink, “What did you say?”

“There’s an old temple that rests in the seat of the Great White Throne and these soldiers expect to find a maiden hiding there. But they’ve also looked all over Oxted asking if anyone has seen her. This maiden seems to be of particular interest to their leader, one Bardulf-Thaatur. Have you heard of him?”

Glynn scratches his nose in thought, “I heard rumors about an ambitious man whose been gaining power and provinces surrounding the country of UR. Through magic and a network of spies he learns the weaknesses of the ruling families whose lands he wants to acquire. He’s managed to conquer much territory from the inside out. It’s odd for him to use soldiers openly.”

“Maybe not so odd,” the stranger replies, “do you not know he’s made a successful bid against UR? They say he’s captured both the King and the princess. UR’s is as good as his when he marries her. “

“Yes, The King of UR’s greatest weakness is his daughter.”

“To legitimize UR as his, the marriage would have to be a large, royal public affair. So I wonder, why are his soldiers seeking this other girl in Oxted — maybe he likes blondes dressed in white?”

Instinctively, Glynn’s hand finds his weapon. The red-haired stranger reacts in equal measure, by pulling a knife of his own. Glynn rests his hand. “Calm down, friend. The fight is not with you,” Glynn replies gravely, “it’s that just today I brought a girl — a comely blonde — to Oxted. Her sole wish was to go to the old temple on that mountain. She made it seem like it was her destiny.”

Glynn’s eyes widen as he recalls the prophecy he had recently recited to Jasmine, “…in the shrine where the white rocks rise, this is where your destiny lies…” He quickly drains the rest of his drink and gets up to leave.

“I must go!” Glynn mumbles, making his way to the door. Even if she wan’t the one they were looking for, she would surely be snatched up as a possibility. Glynn hopes Jasmine’s progress up the mountain has been slow and cumbersome. Maybe they have not yet found her, but if they have…

“Wait,” the stranger follows, saying “There were seven soldiers. And I can help you even the odds… and by the way, my name is Rogan.”

© 2018 DARLENE

Jasmine Snippet #31

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The notes from “The Story of Jasmine” continue:

The Journey north wasn’t as trying as Glynn had anticipated. The girl who called herself Jasmine was quick in following his example, and they made it to the door of Oxted’s only inn by late afternoon. By this time, Glynn had warmed up to her and began to enjoy her company. He looked forward to her joining him for a drink and a hot meal. Uncharacteristically, they had the means to pay and he felt rich and generous.

But to his disappointment, he discovered Jasmine’s only interest was in getting closer to the mountain. Slightly agitated, he points the way just up the road. He tells her that the climb will take her well into the evening and there will be no food when she gets there. He offers to accompany her the very next morning after getting rested.

As she hands him the bundle of coins and valuables they had collected the day before, the black ring on her finger gleams. She is not deterred. Silently, she wraps her blood-stained cloak around her body and heads in the direction of the mountain shrine.

© 2018 DARLENE

Jasmine Snippet #30

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The last shrill cries of the swifts died down as the sun dipped below the horizon. From the window of his room at the Inn, Rogan surveyed the blue-gray valley beyond the city walls. He idly inspected the orange tiled roofs of Oxted, then directed his gaze further past the city. Rogan admired the white rock of a not-too-distant mountain and how it reflected the pink orange glow of the setting sun. “That’s the mountain they were talking about,” thought Rogan, “it does look like a Great White Throne.” The Innkeeper also told him that an ancient temple occupied the “seat” of the throne, adding nobody had ventured the climb in all his years there.

His contemplation was interrupted by the sudden entrance of his traveling companion. Entering brisky, Thorne found the first thing she could see, a small porcelain bowl on a side bench, and smashed it against the wall. The fragments fled between the cracks of the wooden floor. Rogan closed the shutters as Thorne paced the floor. Then she told him the grim news she had gathered, “It is confirmed, UR has been taken!”

Rogan sighed as he sat down. “Not only that, it was taken by someone called Axewolf. They say he holds UR by magic but will legitimize his rule through marriage to UR’s princess, whom he’s captured. It’s only a matter of time.”

Thorne kicked the chair, “So that destroys my errand. By all accounts, Bardulf is a cruel and wicked master. He will never come to the aid of another country.”

“He may or may not help us.” Rogan answered, lighting an oil lamp. He adjusted the wick, the flame’s reflection grew in Thorne’s dark and angry eyes.

Thorne got up and replied with contempt, “If you beg favors from a barbarian as a diplomat, you are a great fool and no friend of mine!”  She started pacing the floor, looking like a caged animal. She tugged at her chamis, “Curses—these clothes bind so. I wonder how maidens manage. Just get me back into my armor and my sword and let ME deal with Bardulf!”

“Hush!” Rogan warned, “Keep it down. Do not speak so rashly and so loud. Tomorrow, we will make alternate plans.”

Thorne plopped herself onto the chair and began tugging at her dress in disgust. Rogan watched her silently. In that frock, she looked weak, perhaps even helpless. But would be deceiving and far from the truth. Thorne was not a trifle. In fact, she was a force to be reckoned with. She could master a sword as well as he. Before his eyes was a first-rate Armildian Battle maiden and one with an important mission. Thorne was an ambassador on an errand for her country. Her diplomatic errand was furtive. Its secrecy prevented her from marching along with dignity in her customary armor.

Thorne’s frustration at her manner of dress amused Rogan. But he sympathized with her when it came to not being able to wear her sword. He knew she concealed at least one knife.

“I saw soldiers today.” Rogan remarked at length.

“Yes, Bardulf’s men after something up the mountain,” Thorne replied. Rogan opened the shutters to take another look at the mountain. It still glowed dully against the evening sky. “Do you know what they want?”

“Very strange…” she answered, “I believe they are looking for a maiden in white.” Rogan responded by pulling on his cloak.

Thorne announced, “I’m returning to my room. I guess I’ll speak with you in the morning. By the way, climbing rocks at night is not recommended.”

© 2018 DARLENE

Jasmine Snippet #29

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Back to hand-written notes for “The Story of Jasmine”:

Small ink sketch of Bardulf.

Even in chains as his prisoner, the King of UR had a commanding presence when he spoke, “You are only the bastard son of a Lord.”

“I may be a bastard, but I am a resourceful one.” He countered, “I’ve managed to ‘inherit’ many things. But I find my fiefdom completely lacking in resources. It’s a wasteland—too barren, too poor, and much too small for a man of my ambitions. I rather like your land and country and I mean to possess it, completely—just like I possess your daughter.”

“What have you done with my daughter?”

“For the moment, your dear daughter is safely within my custody. But soon, very soon, she will become my wife and the Queen of UR. Isn’t that the best all round for everyone concerned? So now, dear old dad, the way you handle this situation will determine my bride’s complete happiness. No man really wants his daughter to suffer, does he?”

“You will not harm her…”

“And deny you the chance of a royal heir?”

© 2018 DARLENE

Jasmine Snippet #26

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The typed “Story of Jasmine” notes continue:

Ermengarde felt a powerful sensation in her belly. The energy shift warned her they were nearing their destination: the dark prince and his magic. Ermengarde started her maneuver by slouching on her horse and wailing loudly. She called to the princess who had rode ahead, “Oh m’ lady, please have pity on an old woman whose bones is aching. Please slow down, miss. I cannot keep up with you…”

Her pleas managed to slow Arlet a pace. As they proceeded, Ermengarde noticed some men watching them from the shadows and branches of the surrounding trees. “Please m’ lady,” she cried, knowing their destination was almost upon them, “can’t we stop now?”

Just then, several men appeared from the shadows and some dropped from the treetops. They were quick in subduing the startled horses. “Oh, oh,” Ermengarde called pitifully, “what’s this?” he men laughed as they lead the horses off the main road onto a small path. They had only travelled a short ways before Ermengarde saw the telltale signs of a military encampment.

When they stopped, Arlet was helped from her horse. Ermengarde was still on her mount when the dark prince approached. He was dressed handsomely in black. When she saw his features, Ermengarde gasped. She knew this man instantly. The years had not changed the glisten in Bardulf’s black eyes and time only enhanced his cruel smile. It was a mistake to have completely dismissed him from her mind.

She slowly dismounted, hoping to be inconspicuous. But all eyes were on Arlet, who walked slowly, but purposefully, towards the prince. Bardulf’s lips curled in a horrid, arrogant smile. When he opened his arms, Ermengarde shuddered. His black cloak reminded her of a bat extending its wings.

Still in a daze, Arlet walked into his outstretched arms and was swallowed by the blackness of his cloak closing tightly around her. Ermengarde counted the moments. She could act if the spell was broken by the embrace. But she knew her hope was foolish when Bardulf drew Arlet into a deep, sustained kiss.

© 2018 DARLENE

Jasmine Snippet #25

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“The Story of Jasmine” snippets continue (Scene 2, according to notes):

Again, the nervous horses of the two riders rubbed against each other. Ermengarde* grabbed the mane of Arlet’s steed with her hand. The animals slowed their pace while Ermengarde kept the horse’s hair in her grasp. Ermengarde sighed. There was so little time to prepare for the unknown danger which awaited them.

“Listen,” the old matron tried one more time to reach her, “there is so much you don’t understand… about your mother… about your birth… about me… about a wizard called Erlkyng…”

Arlet replied with the only words she had spoken since late morning, “The dark prince calls me and I must go to him. Nothing else matters.”

Arlet was spellbound. Without knowing the nature of the enchantment, Ermengarde was reluctant to take measures to counteract it. Besides, she had not practiced this type of magic in years.

To end the spell, Ermengarde thought up a simple strategy. Let Arlet meet her “dark prince.” Then, before the princess could be bound by another spell, Ermengarde would intervene magically. Her plan depended upon complete surprise.

To achieve this, she must be dismissed as a feeble old nurse. Ermengarde let go of Arlet’s horse. For sixteen years, she had played the part of an old crone. Nobody knew who she really was. Her chances for success were good.

There was only one unknown, which bothered her. Who had cast this spell, and how? “Oh master,” Ermengarde prayed, “Let’s hope I can handle this charlatan.”

_____

This page was typed and will be presented in bite-sized pieces.

*Ermengarde is Heta, but we don’t know it yet.

© 2018 DARLENE

Jasmine Snippet #24

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“The Story of Jasmine” notes continue:

The Guardian of Wisdom makes an appearance in The Dragon Magazine some time before “The Story of Jasmine” begins.

Our Story opens with fear and suspicion.

  • Jasmine is dauntless of Reality because the ring of the dark prince placed on her finger makes her see bliss and beauty everywhere (though the blissful landscape is not reflected in the water.)
  • Her companions (retinue) are fearful because they are not “bewitched”
  • Ambush
  • Tall man on horse carries off Princess
  • She hits man with rock*
  • Meets “Gnome” people – they befriend her instantly — recognize ring and try to undo magic. Too strong to manage due to its cloaking ability. She begins to see what is happening to her. To undo the ring, she has two choices: let the prince remove it from her finger or go to the Ice palace of King Attar.* They name her Istaveer.**
  • With ring, Prince can always keep track of her and still possess her (homing device) “uncle?”
  • She goes on her way. Two men find her and are going to capture her. Tall man comes from other direction. Panic.
  • Tall man kills other two. Says her uncle sent him to help her. She’s skeptical, but doesn’t argue.

___________________

This might have been an early draft. I have different name notations, an allusion to a tall man and the suggestion of an uncle. I seem to have two versions of the beginning: one with her nursemaid, Ermengarde accompanying her and this one, without mention of her.

*A lot seems to go on in between this and the next bullet point.

**King Attar? Is this Thorgall’s surname?

*** Istaveer? I don’t remember this at all.

Jasmine Snippet #22

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Notes from The Story of Jasmine continue:

Jasmine & Glynn from a published panel.

The powerful dwarf-warrior rests his weapon and laughs, “Well, you picked yourself quite a name!”

Jasmine straightens up. “And what would you know of this,” she replies in a royal tone.

He noted the change in her demeaner. “Of ‘Jasmine,’ I know little,” he replied. After a short pause, he continued,  “Only, it reminds me of some poetic nonsense I was made to always remember when I was very young:

‘As a warrior lives, a warrior dies,

But you will glide on the wings of the skies.

When the Axe-wolf of Winter’s made the land lean,

Seek out the white flower Jasmine.

In the shrine where the white rocks rise,

This is where your destiny lies…’

“I never wanted to be a victim of prophecy… so I’ve tried my best to forget it. And here you have me remembering it…”

Noting that the sun had almost set, he picks up to leave, turning toward the river. “Where are you going?” she calls, then follows him to the base of the bridge.

“Ah, just as I thought.” The dwarf invites Jasmine into a small cave carved from the riverbank beneath the bridge. Where many fires have been kindled in the past, he renews the fire place. Among bones and other morose debris, the crackling flames illuminate coins and other valuables robbed from many countless travelers above.

Regarding each other with caution, an uneasy companionship develops. She discovers the dwarf’s name is Glynn and that he is traveling to Oxfed.

For a moment, he seems puzzled when she asks if Oxfed is near The Great White Throne. He laughs, replying that many years ago his people had hoped those mountains had riches to mine but their hopes were all but dashed. Ever since, his people called that mountain Fool’s Hope.

“You are a strange one,” Glynn remarks, as if seeing her for the first time, “You know things you could not possibly know, yet you can’t walk through the woods without stumbling!” Jasmine frowns and returns a look of defiance.

Leaving the warmth of the fire, Glynn impales the heads of the cut-throats on their own pole-arms and places them for all to see at the end of the bridge. In death, as in life, the two heads bob in the wind, watching over their bridge, to mock or to be mocked.

© 2018 DARLENE

Jasmine Snippet #21

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The Story of Jasmine notes continue:

Traveling alone in the wilderness, the full impact of her situation slowly became clear. “What a wretched person I am.” she thought, recalling the events of the recent past, “Now I have nothing–neither kingdom nor title.”

At the Guardians’ insistence, she had to relinquish her identity. “Flavia must die!” they told her. In addition to abandoning her name, she exchanged her royal raiment for simpler garments.

Her long journey north began underground. With provisions and much encouragement, this nameless maiden had been led through a labyrinth of cold, damp rock. For weeks, it seemed, they made their way through dark and still passageways. Then finally, came the first shafts of sunlight. She grew joyful as the chamber neared an exit. But then she came to understand that the little community of wise, kind-eyed people who had accompanied her thus far would not be accompanying her any further. She halted.

“Not far from here,” they told her, “is a mountain called The Great White Throne. On top of that mountain are the sacred ruins of an ancient shrine. Go there. Invoke the spirit of Erlkyng and help you will find. And always remember, stay away from the main road—your enemies are many and they are everywhere.”

To give her courage, they placed around her neck, a pouch filled with jasmine petals.

© 2018 DARLENE