Returning Home

For any of you who may be new here, this story starts back a few weeks ago, so you may want to start with
this one
And work your way back here.
Hope you enjoy!

The wheels popped and rattled, jarring the view, as she stared out the tiny carriage window. How funny everything looked from here, yet how fascinating. She had never seen a goat up close before, but she knew them to be larger creatures than the faint gray shapes that dotted the mountainside. Mother said they were filthy creatures without manners or sense, but they had always looked sweet enough.
Horses were nasty though. Or at least they could be when they saw fit. To her mind they had too much sense. One of the grooms had once been kicked in the head by a horse in a mood. He had never been the same, though he was her favorite now. Her own horse would sometimes take it in to his head to hold in his breath when being saddled so that when you thought you were on securely, he’d let out his breath and the saddle would slip from being too loose. Sometimes he would even carry the smaller stable boys in his teeth until one of the grooms would make him behave.
Suddenly she was startled from her thoughts by a crowd of people. She watched them for awhile before noticing that the carriage was driving through the market. She had seen markets before, but had never been allowed to go. No place for her, her mother had told her often enough. Some of the people had noticed the carriage and were waving and shouting to her. She was about to wave back when Penny stopped her.
“Come away from there dear.”
“But they’re waving,” she reasoned, “shouldn’t I wave back?”
“No dear. Common folk like that only want to steal from us. Besides, you look tired from travel; that’s no way for a princess to be seen.”
Princess Ailish sighed, but knew it was useless to argue anymore with Penny.
Words had reached her sensitive ears however; words of warriors and dragons. But surely everyone knew there were no dragons. Had something happened while she was away? Tavish would likely know; she would ask him when they reached the castle.
“My dear, I only have your best interest in mind,” the queen was saying. “You see how poorly we are becoming; surely you see how much this would be in our favor.”
“But what if it’s true mother,” Ailish argued, “What if there are no dragons left? And even if there are, what if there are no more champions left? What if no one can fight something as powerful as a dragon?”
“Nonsense; I know what I’m about. You’re too late anyhow. I’ve already found a warrior to find where the dragons live and any treasure they might keep.”
“And if he fails?”
“There are plenty more where he came from. Now go dress, there will be a feast tonight in honor of our guest. I expect you to be on your best behavior.”

Musings On Root Beer

I used to love Root Beer.
Well, I still do actually, but it’s no longer my favorite soda, as it once was. But I used to drink it all the time. It was one of the few things everyone actually got right about me. I wanted a soda, I got root beer; except of course when there wasn’t any, in which case I drank whatever else was there. I’m not picky about soda, but if I have the choice. . .
I can’t say I ever really enjoyed root beer flavored candy however. Something about the taste just doesn’t feel the same for me.I don’t hate it, I just don’t love or even prefer it. Like I said though, I’m not picky. I’ve never pretended to be any kind of root beer aficionado. I can’t sit here and try to tell you that I think one root beer is superior to another, because frankly I don’t know. I don’t mean to say there is no difference, I just mean I don’t pay enough attention. There are only a few times in my life when I bother to check brands, and that’s when one tastes markably different to me. For example if you like Lucky Charms, do not buy the store brand.
In any case, I haven’t yet met a root beer I completely disliked the taste of, so I just don’t pay attention. There’s also the small matter that I’m not usually the one buying so really I can’t go complaining.
All that being said, I will make one point, root beer tastes much better in a glass. Even if it’s cold, a can really just isn’t the way to go.
Cold dark bubbly sticky sweet root beer, yum.

Where The Cat Lies

Where ever he chooses really.

He is a cat, so by definition he is perverse and aloof. Most cats I’ve met are also incredibly creative and persistent, and if you’ve ever lived with one long enough to “accidently” not wake up early enough to feed them when they want, you have personal knowledge of this. Some of the more successful methods here include howling–no really, he howls, slamming the bathroom cabinet doors and hitting the window shade.
But he is also an affectionate cat; I’ve got the misaligned ribs and cat fur all over my bed to prove it. One thing he really likes to do is lie on the end of my bed against my feet. Since my feet are usually under my covers, and since it gets pretty warm at night, this makes me incredibly hot, but I really hate to disturb him. Of course this gets to be a problem sometimes, especially when nature calls.
So here I am lying in bed doing something or other on my computer because I hadn’t been sleeping the past few nights. The cat, who’s already on my bed, shifts to rest against my leg and puts his head on my foot. It was adorable, really it was. After a while my leg started to get uncomfortable though, and I could tell I was going to have to get up soon. I was hoping kitty would shift on his own, and he finally did, but only to wrap his foreleg around my ankle. Really? Then I did try to move, and do you know what he did? He growled at me.
I know! The nerve!
So now I’ve got a cat who’s sort of posessive about my legs.
Help?

The Widow

I hope that if it was as nice today where you are as it was here, that you spent some time outside.
I didn’t sadly, but my windows were open.
In any case, whether or not you went outside to enjoy the day or had to stay inside, I hope you’ve come back for more story!

Kaylin swallowed nervously as she stood outside the door. She had no idea what she had been thinking to come here. Papa would be furious if he ever heard about this. Listening to Ralphie was never smart. Beside her the small kid shuffled its hooves. Even it seemed unhappy. Kaylin raised her fist and knocked.
“Can I help you child?”
Kaylin stared at the woman who had answered the door. She supposed she had been expecting some kind of hideous old hag from all the tales, but this woman was not remarkable in the least. Her garments were simple and warn from many washings like Kaylin’s own, and her hair, a soft fawn, was tied back in a neat bun. Her hands looked strong and rough from labor, and her pail face was thin. Her eyes were the only feature that stood out to Kaylin. They were the deepest green she had ever seen, and they seemed to pierce her as they stared down at her.
“Mistress Moira?” Kaylin stammered.
“Yes child, that is who I am.”
Kaylin bowed her head respectfully.
“I’ve come to seek your help and advice.”
The woman said nothing; her eyes now curious.
“I want to seek the dragon.”
“And you think I can help you?”
Kaylin gave a single nod.
“Better come inside then. Leave the goat out here.”
“But I thought …”
“I know what you thought,” the widow interrupted. “You needn’t bring me a young goat for my help. I help whom I choose.”
Kaylin noticed the smell first. It was a smell like cooking, but whatever was cooking was nothing she had ever smelled before. There was a kind of sharp sweetness to the smell, and it filled the little home.
“So you wish to find the queen’s dragon eh?” Said moira, going to the pot and stirring it. “Only you don’t think the queen will take you seriously because you are just the blacksmith’s daughter, young and a girl at that.”
Frothy white bubbles began to fome up from the pot as Moira stared down. Her deep green eyes never left it as she spoke to Kaylin.
“And what is it you seek from me? To be changed to a man? The skills of a warrior? Armor that would keep you from burning?”
Kaylin thought about this for a moment.
“I wish for guidance,” she said finally.
Moira reached up and pulled something from a near-by shelf. It looked to be some kind of stone with a hole on one end where a cord was threaded through. This she dipped in to the pot and the bubbles surged higher. After a long time, she removed the stone to reveal a sparkling crystal. Kaylin squinted against its brightness.
“Take this,” Moira said, slipping it around Kaylin’s neck. “As long as you wear it, you shall have all you need. You will understand what I mean when the time comes. Now go, and take that goat away with you.”

Wood Splitting

Eeks I know! No story!

I’m very sorry about that, but what with spring cleaning yesterday and an impromtu outing with She who must be obeyed, and then my internet deciding not to work on me, well it’s been a little crazy. I do however have more for you today, so I hope you all came back. Enjoy!

The hammer came down hard; driving the wedge in to the wood and splitting the fallen tree neatly. Ralphie nearly swallowed the straw he was chewing as he jumped.
“Do you have to keep doing that?” he complained to his friend.
Kaylin looked up from repositioning the wedge.
“Papa has a lot to do as it is, and as he has no sons; he can’t afford to let me sit around and be a proper lady,” she recited. Then she spit. “Not that I’d want to be anyway.”
The tree had fallen just outside of her house during the storm the night before. Papa hadn’t liked to leave her with the task of splitting the wood, but she had reminded him that she was quite capable. Besides which, he had suddenly gotten a lot busier with orders for armor. Kaylin readied herself to strike again; feet spread, knees bent and the sledge hammer gripped purposefully in both hands. It was a heavy, powerful tool that would have toppled any other girl her size, but Kaylin was strong. She swung. Ralphie jumped again.
“I mean do you have to keep splitting the wood like that? It would be much easier with an axe. Safer too.
Kaylin shrugged; flicking her head to keep her firy hair out of her face.
“I could never imagine you as a lady anyway,” Ralphie laughed.
“I could be if I wanted,” Kaylin argued.
“Yeah, and I could have princess Ailish’s hand in marriage.”
“Your goats have better manners than you do Ralphie,” she sniffed. “King Roderick and Queen Matilda would never let you anywhere near their daughter. You probably couldn’t even get near the castle.”
Ralphie looked down at his scuffed and dirty boots and began toeing a hole in the loose earth.
“I do too have manners,” he objected.
Kaylin looked over and grinned.
“Do you think it’s true about the dragons? I mean that they’re not all dead?
Ralphie chewed his straw for a bit before answering.
“Guess there’s only one way to know,” he said. “We just have to wait for whoever the queen sends to come back.”
“I’d love to see a real dragon,” Kaylin said wistfully.
“Then you should go.”
Kaylin lowered her hammer and goggled at Ralphie.
“Me? I can’t go find the dragon. The queen would never send me. I’m just a child, and a girl at that. And soon enough I’ll be of marrying age. Besides, who would help Papa?”
“Just think, if you found dragon’s treasure, your papa would never need to work again.”
Kaylin lifted her hammer.
“And just how would I go about taking this dragon’s treasure anyhow? I have no warrior’s training and no sword besides.”
“You could always go see the old widow,” Ralphie suggested innocently.
Kaylin’s hammer dropped from her hands, nearly crushing her toes. Her face went pale.
“Her?”

Reviews For Distaste

I hate book reviews.

Well, I guess I don’t necessarily hate them, and I certainly don’t mind reading what a friend or fellow blogger has to say about a particular book he or she has read. What I really mean is that I find official reviews and rankings and ratings unuseful and annoying. It’s true, they completely get in my way and I can’t stand to read them when I don’t want to.
I’ve often told people that I read too much. Normally this wouldn’t be a problem with the internet and library combining their resources. The problem however is that I don’t do ebooks. It’s not so much that I have something against them; it’s just that I hate the sound of my computer reading to me. This is of course how I would read an ebook, and so if I am going to be read to , I’d rather it be by a human voice. Unfortunately this is where the trouble starts. Even though the library does have plenty of audio books, they really don’t have enough. Or what I find most annoying, they may have books 1, 2, 4, 7 and 9 in a series on audio, but the rest of the books won’t be on audio. Kindle always has the whole series though, but kindle and I do not get along. Also I happen to know for a fact that the companies who make the audio books do not record out of order and if they have book 4 in a series, then they will have books 1, 2 and 3.
I know, by now you’re probably saying to yourself that I should just sign up for something like audible.com, but there’s a problem there too.
beggars? choosers? beggars anyone?
Ahem!
But anyway, the caust just isn’t worth it for the amount of reading I do. I worked out the math once when I was desperate for reading and basically what I found is that I might as well just straight up buy my own audio books. I’ve likely mentioned this before, but there it is.
So, all that to say I am always on the lookout for more books and new authors. So whenever I come across one that sounds interesting, I go to read the synopsis and too often this is what I find:
“New York Times best selling author …The Washington Post raves … Brilliant says the … award-winning …”
And so on and so forth. Quite honestly, I could care less what any of those people have to say about the book. If anything, I’m less likely to read a book if that’s all I can see for the synopsis.
Of course if it’s already a book or author I like, then it’s fine, but I just don’t like being told by someone whose opinion doesn’t hold water with me, that a book is amazing. I’ll decide that for myself thank you very much.
Mostly, I just know what I like.

The Queen’s Request

I still have yet to give this on-going story of mine a proper title, but I’ll at least think of something to call it soon.
Here’s some more for you.

The powerful wings flapped effortlessly as the griffin soared high over the kingdom. Just who did those people think they were anyhow? Oh sure they ruled the kingdom right enough, but did they truly believe that gave them the right to just disregard the suffering of others? Then there was that queen. She certainly acted the royal part; so why insist on being called a mere lady?
“You do understand, your majesty, that what you ask is impossible?” he had said.
The queen had smiled a gentle smile of condescension.
“I know what we have been told, but I believe no such impossibility.”
“But surely you’ve heard how things were for the dragons of old?”
“You see Matilda,” the king spoke up. “It’s just like I’ve been telling you; the knights who fought the great dragons of old slew them all. The world has been rid of dragons; let’s just find another way and let this nice griffin be on his way back to … back to … oh back to wherever it is he comes from.”
“I don’t believe that story. I believe that the dragons have merely disappeared and now we need them back.”
The griffin dipped his great feathered head.
“I’m afraid I don’t see what you want me to do about this your majesty. I am a creature of great ability it’s true, but I’m no sorcerer.”
“Perhaps this is true,” the queen conceded, “but griffins are legendary for their knowledge are they not? And everyone knows you bridge the worlds between the people and the dragons and other such great creatures.”
“I am deeply sorry your majesty, but I know of only one very old dragon and he is already dying. He is in no position to fight a warrior full of life.”
“Surely even a dying dragon looks frightening enough,” the king chimed in, suddenly excited. “We can have him put on a show and charge people from kingdoms all over to come see him.”
“Don’t be ridiculous Roderick,” Lady Matilda sighed. Then she turned back to the griffin. “So you won’t help us?”
“I can not. I am sorry.”
“Very well then. It was just an idea anyway.”
But when the griffin had left, Lady Matilda turned back to the king and her ladies.
“If the griffin won’t help us, then we’ll find some other way. Where’s Sives?”
Instantly a servant appeared and was quickly dispatched to find the royal scribe.
As the griffin flew, happy to see the kingdom fading in the distance and believing he had done his duty, something small began to stir between his great shoulders. The spiny body unfurled as scarlet wings stretched upward and claws like obsidian flexed. Then the crested head rose on its serpentine neck and yawned a smoky, many-toothed yawn.
“The nerve of some people,” it said.