The Strife of Camlann (The Arthurian Age Book 2) Arthurian Historical Fiction Adventure by Sean Poage Book Sale with Guest Post and Giveaway
Fifteen Hundred Years Have Turned History Into Legend
The Strife of Camlann
The Arthurian Age Book 2
by Sean Poage
Genre: Arthurian Historical Fiction Adventure
Fifteen Hundred Years Have Turned History Into Legend
Arthur’s Men have returned to Britain to keep the peace between fractious allies. Gawain wants only to raise his family and forget the war, yet he carries a heavy burden: an oath to maintain a terrible lie.
But is it a lie?
Looming conflicts threaten more than any border or throne. The course of history, the future of the Britons, will be decided at Camlann.
The second book in The Arthurian Age series, The Strife of Camlann continues the story of King Arthur and his warriors. Returning from the war in Gaul, the Artoriani try to uphold Arthur's goals and interests in Britain, as news of Arthur's continuing triumphs across the sea come to Britain ceaselessly. But storms loom as internal divisions within Britain's alliance of kingdoms are a greater threat than any external foe.
Meticulously researched, this story blends history and legend with just enough imagination to tie it all together into a story of Arthur and Britain in the time period between the Roman occupation and the rise of the English.
**July’s Feautured Title with Perseid Press! Get it On Sale for Only $2.99!**
[excerpt from The Strife of Camlann]
Rhian wished she had not been so eager to go with Gawain and join
Gwenhwyfar’s court for the Conventus. Cair Cerin was a marvel, and the great
market was a thrill to explore with Viviane. However, a shadow hung over
everything. Despite the mild weather, tempers were short. The conference was
two full days of argument, accusation, and obstinacy. Despite seven years with
hardly a foreign raid, the fruits of Badon had yielded only brambles of
discontent and weeds of discord.
Now Rhian picked at her
dinner, lounging with a dozen other women on a semi-circular couch around a low
table, in the Roman fashion. Two other such stibadia occupied the large, well-lit room.
Aromatics burning in braziers mingled with the scent of cut flowers, perfumes,
spices and food. It was a garish display of wealth.
The home belonged to the widow of a former magistrate from another
city. She had moved to Cair Cerin years earlier when her town was abandoned.
She offered her home as Gwenhwyfar’s residence during the Conventus and
presented this banquet for the queen and the women of her entourage.
“I’m so bored with old people conversations,” Viviane whispered,
whining. “And I hate eating like this.”
“Act as if you belong here,” Rhian whispered back, “and not out
back with the servants.”
Tongues loosened by too much wine buzzed in conversation louder
than the musicians. Naturally, discussions revolved around observations and
speculation about political issues throughout Britain, as well as the most
scandalous gossip. Rhian listened but said as little as possible. Gawain’s
status made her a frequent target for ‘innocent’ questioning.
“Who is that?” A large, thickly painted woman pointed across the
room to the main table. “I’ve not seen her before.”
“That’s Maglocunus’ wife,” said another.
“No, I’ve met his wife. That waif is not her.”
“Oh, ho! You haven’t heard?” said a third. She lowered her head
and her voice. The others around the table leaned in. “She was murdered!”
“No!”
“Oh, yes. Poisoned! But that’s not the most shocking . . .”
“What?”
“That woman was married to Maglocunus’ nephew, who died
mysteriously on a hunt with the king.”
“You aren’t suggesting . . .” the first woman said, wide-eyed.
“I only relate the whispers, but they say that woman convinced
Maglocunus to kill her husband and marry her!”
Amid the gasps and twitters, Rhian kept herself carefully composed
and did not engage. She had heard these rumours and more.
Another diner, scowling from the opposite end, said, “That is an
utter slur, spread by Cuneglasus and his cronies, who wish to overthrow
Maglocunus’ rightful pre-eminence.”
“Why, the real scandal is that Cuneglasus has cast out his own
wife and takes the poor woman’s widowed sister to his bed!” said a matronly
woman beside her.
“Oh, all these men will sleep with anything they can get their
hands on,” another said. “Is it not true, Rhian, that Vortipor beds a girl he
fosters, a little trollop from Iwerddon?”
“I know nothing of that,” Rhian said, squirming under the sudden
attention and flashing a warning look at Viviane’s wide-eyed stare.
“Nothing? Your husband is one of his trusted warriors.”
“My husband often defends Demetia, but he is seldom at Vortipor’s
court because of his duties to the Consilium.”
“The last year or so must have kept Gawain busy,” said the lady
beside Rhian. “What with all the agitation and raiding.”
Rhian flashed her a grateful smile for changing the subject and
said, “Yes, he is often away from his hall.”
“Maglocunus and Usai vie with Vortipor,” the first woman said.
“Paguis on the verge of war with Linnuis. Now the Gododdin have joined the
Consilium, and we will all likely be at war with Alt Clut and Nouant.”
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” said the woman across the table.
“Dynfwal is wise enough not to risk war with the Consilium. He can still claim
sovereignty over the Gododdin, even if all know it’s a farce.”
“And if only Vortipor would stop meddling in the affairs of his
neighbours, there might be peaceful relations,” said the matronly woman.
“Vortipor and Maglocunus joined in fellowship might convince
Cyngen to end his aggression.”
“Aggression?” a formerly silent woman in the group burst out.
“Cyngen is trying to put a peaceful end to the constant thievery from the
east!”
As an argument rose, Viviane said, “Mother, may I be excused?
Where are the facilities?”
“Oh, certainly, dear,” Rhian said, scooting off the couch and
taking her hand. “We will return shortly,” she said to the group.
“Must we return?” Viviane whispered as they walked out to the
courtyard. “I really just wanted to leave.”
“I’m glad of the excuse to get away from that discussion, but it
would be a grave insult to the queen if we left before her.”
“I wish we could sit at the queen’s table. No one would dare speak
like that in front of her.”
Outside, pink and gold streaked the evening sky and shadows
gathered between the ornately trimmed shrubs and along the courtyard walls.
Bundles of twigs in tall fire-baskets brightened the main path through the
garden. Rhian and Viviane wandered among the shrubs and potted flowers,
enjoying the cooling evening when the doors to the residence opened in a burst
of light and chatter. Half a dozen women followed Gwenhwyfar and her hostess
into the courtyard.
Rhian and Viviane stood to the side as the queen and her entourage
strolled along. One of the locals fawned over the queen, thanking her for the
endowment to repair the city’s theatre. Gwenhwyfar stopped and smiled at Rhian.
“Ah, Rhian. Hello, Viviane. A fine garden, is it not?” The old
widow, standing beside Gwenhwyfar, nearly glowed from the compliment. “Care to
join us?”
There could be no thought to refusing, so Rhian and Viviane fell
in where Gwenhwyfar directed them, on her left, earning Rhian an icy glare from
Cwyllog, who had to take a step back.
Stopping beside a large earthen pot of yellow-flowering achillea,
Gwenhwyfar said, “This colour matches your lovely dress, Rhian.”
“Thank you, my Queen. It’s made from the silk you gave me long
ago.” Rhian blushed. “It took me years to have the courage to turn it into
something.”
“I thought it might be,” Gwenhwyfar smiled. She examined the cuff.
“I see you have mastered the embroidery.”
“You’re very kind, my Queen.”
“My, such restraint in waiting so long to make use of the queen’s
gift, Rhian,” Cwyllog spoke up over Rhian’s shoulder with a smile that ended at
her lips.
Rhian noted the veiled slight but only smiled, refusing the bait.
• What are
your top 10 favorite books/authors?
Just ten? Well… J.R.R. Tolkien
and all his works, of course; The Thieves
World anthology series, especially the stories by Janet Morris, and her
related Sacred Band series; Fritz Leiber’s
Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser series;
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes
series; Armor by John Steakley; The Anabasis by Xenophon; Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey; Neuromancer by
William Gibson; Gates of Fire and
others by Steven Pressfield; the Red
Rising series by Pierce Brown.
• Do the
characters all come to you at the same time or do some of them come to you as
you write?
Most are found in history and
legend, so I don’t feel I can really take credit for them. I just hope I can
portray them well.
• What kind
of research do you do before you begin writing a book?
Exhaustive! I’ve gone so far as
look up the phase of the moon on a certain day in the year 470. I pester my
academic friends, especially a brilliant archeologist named Keith
Fitzpatrick-Matthews, for everything from Dark Age Latin and Celtic words, to
obscure records, to ensure I portray the cultures and mores correctly.
• Do you
read yourself and if so what is your favorite genre?
I read a lot. I can’t choose one
genre as my favorite. Fantasy, science fiction and historical fiction are my
favorites. Perhaps historical fiction the most. When I find a story that can
transport me back in time, it is really exciting.
• If you
could have been the author of any book ever written, which book would you
choose?
The Bible.
Can you imagine the royalties?
• Tell us
about a favorite character from a book.
Critias, a commander in a
mercenary band known as the Stepsons, from Janet Morris. Part soldier, part
spymaster. He has to watch his best friend and right-side partner spiral under
a witch’s attention, while trying to hold the band together and accomplish his
orders in a world that is turning upside down.
• What made
you want to become an author and do you feel it was the right decision?
I love to read and experience
other worlds, times and stories. As a writer, I get to experience those things
as I create them. I absolutely love it.
• Do you
have any advice to offer for new authors?
Read. Read widely. Read
constantly. Read the classics, as well as newer books. Pay attention to how
good writers do certain things, like dialogue, or plot reveals. I don’t think
it’s possible to be a good writer unless you’re a good reader.
• Describe
your writing style.
It’s evolving. I tend towards a
more straight-forward style than purple prose. I like to use dialogue to bring
out details in a story, and I tend towards characters who are more every-day
people who exhibit greatness when needed, because I’ve found that people are
capable of far more than they often realize.
• What
makes a good story?
For me, I’m turned off by writing
that feels like an effort to showcase the author’s talent for similes and
metaphors rather than telling a story about the characters and events. I like
characters with flaws and strengths, and a plot that isn’t easy to predict.
• If you
could tell your younger writing self anything, what would it be?
Nothing.
Everything happens when it’s supposed to happen.
Sean Poage, has had an exciting and varied life, as a laborer, salesman, soldier, police officer, investigator, SWAT member, computer geek and author. A history buff his entire life, he is most drawn to the eras of the ancient Greeks and Dark Ages Britain. Travelling the world to see history up close is his passion.
These days he works in the tech world, writes when he can, and spends the rest of the time with his family, which usually means chores and home improvement projects, with occasional time for a motorcycle ride, scuba dive, or a hike in the beautiful Maine outdoors.
Website * Facebook * Twitter * Instagram * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads
Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!
Choice of Print or ebook copy of The Strife of Camlann,
$10 Amazon giftcard
– 1 winner each!
Thanks for sharing. Sounds like a good story.
ReplyDelete