A peek at the new “Relvan’s Rescue”
Filed under Fiction, Writing Journal on March 26, 2009
Tagged: fantasy fiction, Relvan's Rescue
Posting old fantasy fiction can be an exercise in humility for a writer. I often cringe as I read through previous versions of stories from early in my “career”. If I can see an improvement in craft, however, it makes the embarrassment easier to bear.
You’ve had a chance to read the opening scene from the version of “Relvan’s Rescue” that I submitted to a handful of markets earlier last year. I’ve been hard at work on a major revision to this fantasy fiction short story, and thought you might like to see how the new opening scene really changes the tone of the tale.
Janner Kohl clasped his gloved hands behind his back, rolled his shoulders and rocked on the heels of his boots. He gazed across the crowded pier, but saw no sign of their client.
“Either those new cap’n’s bars are heavier than they look, or somethin’ ‘bout this job’s got you on pins ‘n’ needles.” Mig Daro’s smirk let Janner know which option his sergeant thought it was.
“How about you go make sure the men have their things stowed. We’ll leave as soon as Lady Temmere arrives.”
Mig came to attention, but his wink belied the salute. “Yes, sir.”
Janner shook his head at the man’s back. He and Mig had joined the Brigade at the same time, been assigned to the same squad, and went on their first mission together. They’d worked side by side ever since. It bred a certain familiarity that held little regard for rank.
That didn’t change the fact that Janner did feel a little anxious about this mission. The Brigade needed every fighting man it could muster in the war against Lord Tyrran and his Crimson Feathers. Janner disagreed with Commander Aminoss’ decision to allocate valuable resources for a private commission, even if it was to escort the wife of one of Lhapp’s ruling council.
A parasol of pale yellow silk bobbing through traffic at the far end of the pier caught Janner’s eye. He felt the nervous flutter in his belly that always preceded battle. A deep breath, and tracing the trimmed line of dark hair that ran along his jaw and around his mouth, helped calm him. Fourteen winters as a mercenary in the Brigade had hardened Janner to many things, but apparently not to the sight of a love lost.
That was the other reason he wasn’t looking forward to this mission.
Lady Touvree Temmere appeared out of the throng of dock workers and sailors like the sun emerging from behind parting clouds. Her parasol matched her full-length dress, and its shade failed to dull the shine of her honeyed curls or green eyes. Time had rounded her features some, but Janner found her maturity as attractive as his memories of her younger self. He ran his fingers over his beard once more then relaxed into a parade rest stance and waited.
He did not wait long. A wave from Lady Temmere signaled she had spotted Janner where he stood at the foot of the ship’s gangplank. She motioned to someone behind her then made directly for him.
“Hello, Captain Kohl.”
Janner bowed his greeting. “I hope you had no difficulty in finding the ship, my lady.”
“Oh, this trip will be a long one if you insist on being so stiff and formal, Captain.”
“My apologies. I tend to fall back on standard protocols when I find myself on uncertain footing.”
“And what might you be uncertain about, Captain?”
Janner scrambled for an answer that would avoid any awkward and personal confessions. “To be honest, you going on this trip. Pirates are most active in the Archipelago during this season, and a lady such as yourself fetches quite a ransom.”
“Nonsense. My son is leaving me to go off to seminary across the sea for the year, and you think I should sit at home alone and knit.”
“You’re hardly alone. Your husband—“
“Is too busy running a city in the middle of a war. I could argue that I’m in as much danger here as I might be sailing to Byzantum.”
“And your other son?”
“He is already apprenticed to Master Denor. I’m not sure what the point of all these questions are, Captain. You’re being paid to make sure my son makes it to Byzantum safely. What I do, or do not, is none of your concern.”
Janner grimaced at his own lack of diplomacy. “I’m sorry, Lady Temmere. I did not mean to—“
Lady Temmere sighed. “Captain, I think we will both enjoy this voyage much more if we don’t start things off on the wrong foot. Shall we begin again?” She stepped aside and put her arms around a gangly youth with a soft face. “This is my son, Relvan,” she said, drawing the boy up next to her. Janner could see the resemblance in the color of the boy’s hair, the straight and narrow nose, the way his lips curved in a timid smile.
“Hello, Relvan. I’m Janner Kohl,” he said, extending his left hand in greeting.
“Hello, sir,” the boy replied, taking Janner’s hand in a tentative grip and giving it a quick, weak shake.
“That’s better,” Lady Temmere said, her smile beaming. “Now, shall we board? I’m anxious to get this little adventure underway.”
“Of course.” Janner held his arm out for Lady Temmere to proceed and fell in step behind her. He glanced over his shoulder to see a porter burdened with several trunks and bags. The look on the servant’s face filled Janner with sympathy. “I’ll send some men down to help with your things.”
