Wednesday, June 19, 2013

LHND - Untitled Highlander Story




Okay peeps. Insomnia is a good thing... at least it is today. Went to bed at 8 woke up at 10. I was able to write the first 2500 words. Research is grueling, especially when online reference material cannot answer my very specific questions. We're going back in time 1000 years and so much has changed in the that period of time. Deforestation, the increase in the moors from the deforestation, climate changes, water level changes, burgh politics, clann politics, mixed religious practices... you get the picture. The only saving grace for me is that Ewen comes from shifter stalk which makes this an alternate reality but I'm attempting to keep historical accuracy. I'm definitely not Diana Gabbledon. She takes two years to write her books and have less than 30 days.


Here is one of the tidbits that I got wrong. "Laird" I believed to be equal to an English Barron. Nope. Laird is simply a Scottish land holder. Clann Chiefs didn't have to be Lairds nor did they have to be Thanes. A Thane was appointed by the King. But a Scotsman could be a Thane, a Laird, and a Clann Chief. So Lucy and Kevin do get their Laird and Thane. *waggles eye brows*

Complete deforestation of the Caledonia Forrest wasn't achieved until the 16-1700s. It was that time period that sheep herds dominated in the Scottish landscape.

The date is 1064 when Somerled mac Gillebride, King of the Isles, shuttled 15,000 troops to the mainland to battle Malcolm IV, King of Scotland. It is called the Battle of Renfrow. This is the beginning of story of how Ewen and Roi meet.

Now that I have blathered on about the little knowledge I have gleaned in the last couple of days here's an excerpt. I hope you like it. It's unedited so please over look the oopses. I'm tired now so I'm going back to bed!

Excerpt:

The man in the flowing red garb wore no discernible armor that I could see. He wielded a sword and shield with a fierceness that closely matched my own. But before I came close enough to engage him, the golden-haired warrior veered off, and there before me stood Somerled himself. Young Malcolm, King of Scotland, came up on my right side. Somerled's eyes flared with an ambitious light under his protective helm when he spotted Malcolm. Little did he know, he would have to go through me first, if he aspired to kill my king.

The last several days we had watched Somerled, those of us who fought at the side of Malcolm convened at the end of the day to relay what we had observed. Those about the King of the Isle kept him insulated and he rarely lifted the sword in battle. I was well aware that the man I faced was fresh and not battle weary, yet he still wouldn't be a match for me and the beast contained under my skin.

At the moment when I stepped in front of Somerled to face off with him, I caught the scent of another. The beast and I snarled together, the red haze of the berserker rage that stayed at the edge of vision during battle intensified as the creature within me attempted to answer the call of protection. The limited control I had over the beast's actions slipped away leaving me utterly animalistic in mind, even if not in body, as I engaged Somerled with a single minded ferocity that caused my kinsmen to give us a wide berth. 

No comments:

Post a Comment