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Excerpt 1:
Puck stepped to the center. He clenched his jaw as he spoke, a controlled rage evident across his face. “I will not abandon Odara to certain death when I need her here. I have promised her my love, my labor and my very life. What do I have left when they rode off with my life? If she is gone, I am dead already. There is nothing left for them to take from me.”
“But that is not the end of it. We cannot rebuild, we cannot survive if we all run off to be a hero in our own story. There is a greater good here. Look at the faces around you. Your hunting will help us add to our village and start to regrow. We are fewer now and we cannot bear to lose more of us, especially through our own choosing.”
Many of the older people in the village were nodding their heads. There was indecision on many of the younger faces, they lacked the experience and were looking to be led. Trepuk stayed quiet for a long moment. He looked at the faces around him. He made eye contact with Alcasia. The glance caught her. She could not look away. He spoke to everyone without breaking eye contact. “I already refused to run into the fire once. I will face this fire alone if I must.”
“Not alone.” The voice rose deep and clear from the crowd. Alcasia did not need to look to see who was speaking. Robyr’s voice was as obvious to her as her own. She kept her eyes on Trepuk though he turned to the voice. Robyr continued, “I will bear any ill to walk into this fire with you.”
“And me.” Alcasia heard her own voice echo the call though it sounded very small. Several heads turned at the sound of her voice. While many knew her skill in the woods, she was not one to make her mind known or to raise her voice in a crowd. It drew the eyes of the old and young alike. Praestor looked at her and there was a clear pain in his eyes. He knew the value of her hunting to the economy of this village and knew that this would hurt their greater hope of prosperity in the near future. He clearly also feared losing her if something happened. Alcasia had continued to keep her eyes on Trepuk. He just dropped his eyes toward the ground and stared as if planning or seeing the future.
“Please,” the pleading in Praestor’s voice was growing, “do not abandon us. Do not abandon your homes for a journey that can only end in you joining the dead. We cannot live here on the edges of the world without your strength and your vigor. Why should you abandon those who helped raise you simply to throw your lives away? Stay.”
Praestor continued, “We must trust in the gods to protect our loved ones. May Altapug protect the living and Erantavir welcome the dead. We must trust in them. What are we? Who are we to this army but gnats to a brontar? Only death lies down that road. Haven’t we seen enough of that?”
A man in a red shirt and black pants covered in a long black cloak stepped from the crowd. He was Chandick, the local priest of Ipapug. He maintained the small temple and led the prayers and ceremonies in the village. He wore a medallion that had the same emblem as Alcasia’s necklace. “Praestor is right. We ask Ipapug to guide us to the west. If Rugyevet leads these men east, there is no more need to worry. The Gathering Wars did nothing to Green Point. All the great kings have always needed the villages. The gods have always protected the people of Rhentsia. We must look to them and rebuild.” He then lifted his hands and spoke to the sky, “Ipapug guide us through the darkness.”
Praestor rejoined the priest, “Let the lords have their wars and their titles. We will keep the small corner of the world that is ours.”
Other voices joined. Pleading voices. Many reached out to Trepuk with their eyes and begged him to stay to rebuild and help them get some semblance of a life back into the village. Green Point was at a tipping point it seemed. Broken people just asking that things could get back to something they recognized. So afraid that any attempt at rescue would only further cripple the village and leave it without a means to provide for itself. It was not weakness, but it was a tired sort of hope. People wanting something better, but lacking the energy of anger, they responded with a pleading and defeated spirit.
Excerpt 2:
Alcasia walked back into the house and saw the food now sitting on the table. No one else was sitting yet, but she could see Lysander watching the table while holding a small toy near the wall. His hungry look made it clear that he had been told to wait for her to return. Alcasia walked directly to the table, but then made a slight adjustment and walked past the table toward the sleeping area she shared with Alishana. She turned her head just slightly so she could see Lysander start moving to the table and then stop suddenly when he watched her walk by. Alcasia reached her bunk above Alishana’s bed and moved some items around. She turned and looked at Lysander and gave him a little, knowing smile. “Shall we eat?”
Lysander’s ears perked up and he turned his whole body to face Alcasia. After making eye contact he quickly looked back at the table and then his mother. Everyone smiled. As soon as Alcasia began her first step toward the table Lysander ran to the table. Alcasia and Alishana walked to the table and took their seats. Their mother served up the food. Alcasia was joyous to see the potatoes in a ceramic bowl at the center of the table. Alcasia’s mother had clearly found a little oil. Alcasia was starving, but she kept her discipline. She watched Alishana and Lysander get their plates and start eating. Their mother waited and then slowly filled a plate for herself. Alcasia watched her mother. Deliberate movements. Keeping her composure and control of the situation. Her mother placed her own plate down and then looked about to ensure everything was set before she started to eat. Alcasia knew this was the mark of a woman who grew up with a father who hunted and then married a hunter. She did not escape it with her oldest daughter. There was always the fear the hunter would not return. Brontars have always been dangerous. The control, the reserved spirit, it was all a mask to feel like she was actually in control of her world and her loved ones.
Once her mother took a bite, Alcasia allowed herself to take her first bite. It was exquisite. All the wonderful tastes of being safely home. The food was warm and wonderful. She did not wolf down her food. She demonstrated a sort of control like her mother. It was more about not giving in to her instincts. She wanted to maintain full control over what she did and when she did it. Hunger and fear could make you make mistakes. She wanted to control herself totally. Discipline.
“I’m going to Riven with Robyr. Just a few days. I want to look around the market,” said Alcasia, breaking the silence.
“You only just got home. What could you possibly need that can’t wait?”
Lysander and Alishana stayed out of this conversation. This was going to be something where they did not dare take sides with either Alcasia or their mother. Best to just keep eating.
“I want to see Robyr selling the brontum. I want to see what the prices are in the bigger markets. I might also look around to see if I can find another steel blade.”
There was no change in her mother’s stance, but there was a small change in vocal tone. “And Riven is as far as you are going?”
Alcasia held her face like stone. No need to give anything away. Alcasia had mentioned some time ago that she wanted to get all the way to New Harbor. Alcasia wanted to get to the largest market in southern Rhentsia. It would help to know what the finished brontum sold for, it would help her negotiate with the artisans. Also, she could get an idea what the High Families were looking for when buying their wares.
“Where else would I go?”
“Does the world end at Riven?” The sarcasm was very thick.
Excerpt 3:
They finally reached a point within sight of the middle of the camp. This camp was laid out a little differently than the large camp in the Great Forest. The center of the camp had a large pen for horses. This was clearly a troop of horse soldiers. Hopefully the one that had rolled through Green Point. The middle of the camp was open, There were four large paths spanning out from the middle of the camp in all four cardinal directions. At regular periods small groups of four to six cavalry soldiers would ride in or out going to unknown locations. There was a lot of activity. In front of a lone tent there was a large spear lodged in the ground with the red flag with the black X that she saw in the forest. The bold red and black sent a chill through her body. Her body told her to run. There was a clink of armor in the air. The fires raged around her. She was clinging to the shadows as one clings to a ship in a storm. The single tent by the flag was in the center of the camp. There was a great area in front of the tent that gave the appearance of a large city square. There were some make-shift buildings set up. Alcasia could not guess the purposes of these buildings. Directly across the open area there was a wooden wagon with bars blocking small windows.
Alcasia felt a tug at her shoulder. She avoided quick movements, but turned to see Trepuk stepping to the edge of the shadow. He was dangerously close to stepping into clear view. She felt a sudden panic, but then she realized he was staring intently. She followed his gaze and saw he was looking toward the wagon. As she looked at the wagon she now saw a small, slender arm reaching out of the window. The hand was pale in the light of the fires and appeared to be young and smooth. Odara! Alcasia immediately knew. She looked in all directions, there was only light and fire between here and the wagon. There was no clear path.
It was after this quick search that Alcasia realized that Trepuk was gone. She felt the power of the adrenaline pouring through her veins. Where did he go? What is he doing? Her eyes darted around the immediate area. No! No! No! Finally, her eyes came to rest on a group of horses loitering between the rows of tents. There were some soldiers taking items off the horses and getting them ready to place in the corral. Alcasia spotted the extra set of legs darting among the horses. She tensed as Trepuk’s feet always seemed within inches of soldiers’ lines of sight, but they never noticed him. She lost sight of the feet as Trepuk vanished back into the shadows near the tents.
She kept looking. Dammit Puck! Where are you?! You’re going to get us all killed. The group of horses was handed over to a few young soldiers. Looked like horse handlers to follow the advance. That is when she noticed something. The last young man in line grabbed the final two horses, but his walk was more smooth than the others and he seemed less sure with the horses. There he is! Alcasia’s mind was racing. She needed to get closer to him
Alcasia scanned the environment. No disguises would work for her. Her build would never be confused with a grown man, or even a young one for the matter. She thought back to what she would do with a brontar. I need a distraction. She drew an arrow, notched the arrow, then took a slow aim. This was about to be the craziest thing she had ever done. She saw Lysander’s face. She saw Alishana’s face. She saw her mother’s face. There was so much at stake. In the forest a shot like this could mean starting the hunt over again. Here, a miss could mean she would be caught and die. Worse, it could mean Alishan and Lysander’s death. She took another deep breath and loosed the arrow.
What are your top 10 favorite books/authors?
Ø Dune by Frank Herbert, Band of Brothers by Stephen Ambrose, To America by Stephen Ambrose, Lies My Teacher Told Me by James Loewen, Les Miserables by Victor Hugo, Shadow and Bone by Leigh Bardugo, Gone For Soldiers by Jeff Shaara, Team of Rivals by Doris Kearns Goodwin, Hunchback of Notre Dame by Victor Hugo, John Adams by David McCullough.
What book do you think everyone should read?
Ø Lies My Teacher Told Me.
How long have you been writing?
Ø Since high school.
Do the characters all come to you at the same time or do some of them come to you as you write?
Ø They present themselves as the situations arise for them to be needed. Couldn’t add some of them from the time where Alcasia is alone on the hunt. Many had to wait for the main thrust of the storyline to kick off before they came forward.
Do you see writing as a career?
Ø That would be fantastic. I love practicing law, so I would not likely give that up. Still, I would love for my writing to be a way I can provide something more to my family and make it more valuable.
Do you read yourself and if so what is your favorite genre?
Ø I love fantasy works, but I still mostly read history books.
Do you prefer to write in silence or with noise? Why?
Ø I can barely think when it is quiet. I need some noise going on or my mind just starts to wander. Not sure if it’s an ADD type thing, but if there is only one thing to focus on I start to day dream. If I have music and writing then I can focus.
Do you write one book at a time or do you have several going at a time?
Ø While writing this book I was only working on this book. I am currently working on two though. I am focusing on getting the second book of the series out, but I am taking some time away from Rhentsia to work on another project too.
Pen or type writer or computer?
Ø I do outlines with pen, but I write the actual work on a computer.
Advice they would give new authors?
Ø Just start it. Write something. You can decide you hate it later or you can add to it. You can read it after you think you are done and find ten things to add. Nothing starts until you start putting down words. Just start writing and then refine as you go. Also, have patience. Nothing worth doing is ever easy.
Describe your writing style.
Ø I mostly do my brain storming in the car on my commute to work. I come home and start editing that in. I usually edit during the writing. I actually went through and changed large sections in the story prior to finishing my first draft. I also keep a running encyclopedia of all the animals I have created and all the people I have named at any point in the story.
What makes a good story?
Ø Characters who change and grow and villains with an understandable purposes and goals.
What are they currently reading?
Ø The Premonition by Michael Lewis.
What is your writing process? For instance do you do an outline first? Do you do the chapters first?
Ø I tend to outline first and then start writing. I know I will tend to rewrite everything once or twice.
What is your writing Kryptonite?
Ø Writing conversations is probably the hardest part for me. Writing poetry as a starting point allowed me to work on being descriptive and flow into design. Writing conversations has to maintain personality traits and I have to bounce between multiple people and their arguments or desires one after another.
Do you try more to be original or to deliver to readers what they want?
Ø At this point I am trying to be more original. My first audience is my daughters. I want them to have a character they can follow and enjoy.
If you could tell your younger writing self anything, what would it be?
Ø Try multiple genres and sample more things earlier. Write more short stories.
What’s the most difficult thing about writing characters from other genders?
Ø Having characters of other genders and other ethnicities is difficult because as a white man I know I have no idea. I have to admit that and deal with that. I cannot avoid it because that would be far more disingenuous. I need to have those voices in my stories to challenge me. Thankfully, I have been surrounded by strong women in my life. My mother, my grandmothers, my wife and my daughters. In many ways, I write the women in this novel to have many of the same desires as anyone else. They want to protect their families and have jobs that give them a feeling of joy or accomplishment.
How long on average does it take you to write a book?
Ø It took a little over a year to get the first one through the process. Some of that was bouncing revisions past others to get a sense of how it was going.
Do you believe in writer’s block?
Ø Oh yes. Sometimes you have to walk away and maybe write something else for a bit to get in a different state of mind. I also like to talk through it with someone else or talk out loud to myself in the car to get through it.
Jonathan E. Barnett grew up in Stevens Point, WI. After spending a year in a seminary in St. Paul, MN, he transferred to UW-La Crosse. He graduated with a Bachelor's in History and a minor in Economics. Upon graduating, Jonathan was commissioned as an Officer in the Wisconsin Army National Guard and deployed twice to Southwest Asia. After his second deployment, he graduated from University of Wisconsin Law School. Jonathan is now a practicing attorney and author in Central Wisconsin.
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