Nanowrimo Update

No critiques, please. I'm participating in National Novel Writing Month and the goal is sheer volume. I'm only posting here so I can have access to what I've written from any computer. Feel free to leave comments in the form of kudos or encouragement. There will be plenty of time for critiquing when November's over.

The King's Treasure
"Ardan, stop!" his mother called after him. He didn't stop. The dust rose up in little puffs around his bare feet as they pounded the dirt road. Away. Away from home and the lies they were telling him.

He ran until his lungs screamed for air and his body forced him to stop by collapsing his knees under him. "No!" His anguished cry escaped his soul at last and immediately dissipated into the warm spring air. "No!" He wailed again and again rolling from the dirt of the road onto the long grassy creek bank beside it. Tears cut muddy tracks down his red face.

After a while, the emotion subsided and he lay numbed, staring up at the bright blue sky as large puffy clouds moved slowly from west to east. This was how she found him.

His small mother gathered his nine-year-old body in her arms. She pushed his dark hair away from his forehead and cleaned his face with the hem of her skirt. Then, she held him close, kneeling there on the side of the road and they both wept, tears mingling and soaking the bosom of her chemise.

She lifted his thin body and together they made their way back to the small cottage at the edge of the clearing. As they came near, he noticed that the yellowed walls and thatched roof looked as cheery as they ever had and his heart rested for a moment. Then, he remembered. It flooded back into his brain and blacked out even the brightest colors.

His mother carried him into the house and placed him on his bed. She knelt down and again brushed away his bangs. "We need to cut your hair," she whispered. Long brown strands escaped from the modest scarf she wore and her eyes seemed bright blue in contrast to the red face around them. No more tears fell, but her eyes glistened with the memory of them.

She placed a kiss on his forehead and stood, straightening her calico skirt and white linen chemise. "Stay here. I'll call you when supper is ready." Their first meal without him. Without his father. Ardan knew his father was dead, yet he couldn't imagine his father's cold body laying somewhere. The soldiers who had come, bloodied from the fight and streaked with mud, had said that his father's body was taken to the castle. He would be buried there tomorrow on the castle grounds in the Soldier's Cemetery with all the honor due a fallen captain of the guard.

Partial Chapter 4

Rhythmic swishing of leaves woke her with a start. She heard the rustle, but realized something else woke her. Thrum. Thrum. The ground under her vibrated. Footsteps. Laehry knew immediately that they did not belong to a deer or a raccoon or even a man. Only something much, much larger and many times heavier could shake the ground like this. The thudding stopped suddenly. Laehry pulled her cloak up over her head and willed her body to sink into the leaves. Fear crept into her limbs and they started to tremble. She prayed that whatever-it-was wouldn't hear.

The sniffing and snuffling of a large nose filled the air. It moved toward her. She tried to burrow further into the rock. Where was her dagger? She had gone to sleep with it in her hand and had obviously dropped it. Her fingers crept over the leaves around her stomach. At last, her shaking hand gripped the cold metal hilt with a small sigh of relief. She didn't know how big this beast was, but she wouldn't go down without a fight. The snuffling stopped and the thudding started again. Laehry held her breath until she realized that the footsteps were actually moving away from her back down the path.

Laehry sat up, all hope of sleep gone lest the beast return. Where was her father right now? She had seen no sign that anyone else had traveled this path in the past few days. Was she even going the right way?

Laehry decided that she would walk swift and far today and try to catch up to the beasts who had her father. If she still saw no sign of them by nightfall, she would head for Nightvalley, the last village before the mountains reared up to form the Great Boundary between the ocean and Ellwood, to try to get information.

Laehry had never been to Nightvalley, but she had often heard of it in the stories the children told each other on the playground at school. Strange wanderers came down out of the mountains, it was said, solitary and lean men and not a few women who roamed the Great Boundary. In many of the stories, these Wanderers had power over the creatures of the mountain. They would come into Nightvalley accompanied by a pet grizzly bear or mountain lion to trade. Lizzie's mother had grown up in Nightvalley and she said it was true. She once saw a tall woman walking down the only road that ran through Nightvalley with a black bear by her side. The sausage peddler was on his was home, towing his car behind him. The bear ran toward him and when it had almost reached the cart and the terrified man, the Wanderer reached out her left hand, uttered a charm, and the bear returned to her the way a dog would return to its master.

Near dawn, she heard the swishing again, coming closer and closer. She crouched and held the knife ready. The source of the sound emerged from behind a huge oak tree and Laehry collapsed in relief. This particular foe, a large gray squirrel, would be no match for her knife.

She headed back to join the main trail just as the sun peeked up over the ridge. Laehry forced herself to jog over the trail even though her heavy limbs now demanded sleep. It was midday when she finally rested on a large boulder near the trail. Her biscuit tumbled from her sleep-clumsy fingers and when she bent to retrieve it, she saw a streak of blood smeared onto the opposite side of the rock. Dropping to her knees, she peered closely at it. Long black hairs were stuck in the smear - long black hair just like her father had. She touched the blood and found that it was still sticky. Fresh, she thought.

Forgetting the biscuit, she sprang to her feet, grabbed her pack, and ran down the trail.

Chapter 3 - Hunting

This is the chapter I am least pleased with at the moment. I've been working on adding more color to it - bits of Laehry's personality and history. To help some of my student writers, I often suggest what I would like to see more of - a more complete description of a certain place, more about a certain character, etc. As a reader, I can see gaps in the story that the author sometimes cannot. Please feel free to include such suggestions in your comments.

She slung the rucksack over her shoulder and marched toward town. She would find her father and bring him home safely.

She walked all night. Past the edge of town, she stepped off the road and into the forest where the men had found her father's bloody shirt. After several minutes stumbling through dried leaves and over dead trees, she found a trail. Without a clue where she was going, Laehry decided to follow it, her sleepy mind simply focused on putting one foot in front of the other.

Near daybreak, she reached a small stream and filled her water skin. The woods were waking up. Birds started to sing in the branches and several chipmunks scampered across the path near her feet. She trudged on.

When the sun was high, she wearily sank onto a fallen beech and ate some biscuit and cheese. She wasn't really very hungry, but she knew her body needed the fuel to keep it going. Her stomach remained knotted with worry for her father and now competed with a fear that she would disappear into the wilderness. Pushing these thoughts from her mind, Laehry resolved to be fearless and bold.

Don't ever let fear make you hesitate, she remembered her father telling her during one of their sword-training sessions. When she finished eating, she took a few slugs of water, brushed the crumbs from her lap and continued on down the trail, her steps wider and more confident now that her fear was defeated at least temporarily.

The trail itself was quite pretty. The forest was a mix of pine and broadleaf trees. Eons of fallen needles and leaves padded the trail and the sound of her own footsteps kept her company. She walked on, going up and down ever bigger hills until she reached the top of a ridge. Here another trail ran perpendicular to the one she was on. She stood a moment and gazed about her. She was clearly at the highest point around.

Ahead of her, through the trees, the sun was sinking lower in the sky - dusk approached. She felt safe up here on the ridge - anyone who came near would have to climb a hill to get to her and the chances of someone stumbling blindly over her were slim. She turned left and followed the new path up a slight incline until she reached its end.

The trail appeared to just stop in mid-air, but as she came closer, she saw that several huge boulders marked its end. Laehry climbed up on the first of these and felt her stomach clutch as she looked over the other side. Here, the ground fell away quickly down into a beautiful valley full of trees. Far in the distance, she could make out some cleared fields marking habitation of some sort, human or otherwise.

She remembered coming with her father to a remote location similar to this one. They had hopped and leaped among the boulders. Her father encouraged her to run the edges of the widest boulders and fallen trees. Laehry knew she could out-balance any of the children at the village school. She once beat them all by walking the ridgepole of the small school building. Her father and mother sent her to bed with only bread and water for supper,

"How dare you put yourself in such danger!" her mother had wailed.

"How dare you make such a spectacle of yourself!" hissed her father.

Now, she expertly walked the edge of the outer boulder. She kicked a stick out of her way and watched it tumble, end-over-end down into the trees below. Then, she hopped down and unrolled her blanket in a bed of leaves. As the last of the suns rays dipped behind the mountains to her right, she snuggled in and fell fast asleep.

####

Bati Midwood woke early in the chill morning air and reached for her husband. He wasn't there. A desperate and lonely feeling washed over her as she remembered the events of the previous morning. Her gut told her that Fort was still alive, but with three children to care for, she could scarce do anything about it.

She swung her knees over the edge of the bed and carefully placed her feet on the woven rug. Tugging on her woolen socks and long robe, she made her way down to the kitchen to start breakfast for the children. They would go back to school today. Returning to normal life as quickly as possible would be good for them.

She stopped short at the sight of the rough oak table. A piece of parchment lay curled and neatly tied with blue yarn. She was sure it hadn't been there last night. Bati pulled off the yarn and unrolled the parchment,
Dear Mother, it began. Tears welled in her eyes as Bati finished reading the short note. She had expected nothing less. Fort had been training Laehry to hunt and fight since she was old enough to hold a wooden sword. Of course Laehry would go after him. Bati worried momentarily about her daughter, wondering where she was right now, before her mind rested on something - something that had been said long ago that, she was relatively sure, assured her daughter's safety - at least for awhile.

Chapter 2 - Leaving

The spots on the ceiling were silent. They had always comforted her, watching over her while she slept. Laehry imagined they were the wise, old eyes of the pine trees long-ago cut for the construction of the Midwood home. Laehry's father had built this house with the help of some villagers when they first came to Riversend.

Laehry turned over on her side and hugged her damp pillow. She didn't have any tears left. Even her mother in her bedroom down the hall had stopped quietly sobbing.

He's not dead, Laehry thought. She felt in her heart that her father was somewhere in great danger, but he wasn't dead. And now, no one was looking for him.

She stared up at those knots, searching for an answer. Finally, she dropped into a restless sleep.

"Laehry, are you in bed?" a deep voice spoke behind the door.

"Yes, Papa. I just finished dressing," she replied, diving beneath the covers.

Her tall papa stepped into the room. His blond hair was rumpled and dark half-moons of fatigue showed under his eyes. Fort Midwood had come home today from a month-long journey canvassing the country, trading their farm's meager produce for supplies they would need for the winter.

"Princess, it's time we had a talk." He sat down next to her on the bed. "Soon you'll be turning thirteen. I can hardly believe how you've grown in these short years. You're nearly a young woman, now." A smile spread across her father's weary face.

"I remember the night you were born - how you screamed! It was as if you were angry to have been taken from your peace and quiet in your mother's womb. You were only calmed when we took you outside. There, you must have decided that the tall fir trees and star-swept skies were reason enough to stay." He tilted back his head and gazed at the ceiling. Laehry knew that her father was not looking for answers in the knotty pine, as she so often did. He was instead seeing some far off place - the mythical place of her birth where her family had come from.

"Papa, where was I born?" Laehry asked.

"You, my darling, were born a princess in a castle in a land far, far away," her father replied, his eyes twinkling.

"No, Papa! Where was I really born?" Laehry was impatient. This was the answer he always gave. She wanted the truth!

"I've told you, my love." He took her hand gently and his blue eyes met hers. "This is what I wish to speak of tonight. Your life will require great bravery and daring. You must keep your wits about you at all times, for there are those already afoot who wish all of us evil." His eyes grew somber as he gazed past her out the window. "I have a gift for you. I want you to keep it with you at all times from this moment on." He reached down and Laehry saw that he had brought a small wooden box with him. He drew back the lid and handed Laehry what was inside.

A heavy dagger, no more than ten inches long, lay in her hands. Four round, polished red stones ran in increasing size from the hilt to the end of the handle like drops of blood. With great effort, Laehry turned her eyes to her father.

"These are jewels," she stammered. She had never seen real jewels before, yet these stones sparkled with a clarity that belied their value. "We're so poor. Why do we have a dagger with a jeweled hilt? Shouldn't we sell it to pay off the farm?"

"This dagger is your only link, aside from your mother and I, to your heritage. Use it bravely and wisely and never let it part from you from this day forward." Her father again reached down beside him and withdrew a thin leather strap. "Wear this around your calf just below your knee. The dagger will always stand ready for you, yet the [dagger holder] will allow you to go about your everyday business without much thought to it."

"But, Papa, I don't need a dagger and we need the money so badly!" Laehry's fingers caressed the stones.

"My dear child, I cannot tell you what you will face. You will have to find that out on your own. Yet I can promise you that you will have need of the dagger someday."

"But, Papa!" Laehry protested. She knew they needed the money, yet the desire to keep the dagger grew outward from the pit of her stomach.

"Goodnight, my Princess," murmured her father as he bent to kiss her forehead. "It will all become clear in time."

Laehry watched her father leave the room, pulling the door shut behind him. She knelt close to the candle to examine the dagger. Below the four jewels, carved in flowery script were the words "Kingdom of Midra". Midra? Laehry thought. It doesn't exist anymore. The children in the village told stories about Midra and how, many years ago, evil swept over the small country, swallowing it up. Now, it was said that large beasts had come out of the water to roam the land, doing the bidding of their master, Lord Meldrum. Laehry had never had much time for fairy tales and legends, but now she was curious.

She climbed back into bed, placed the dagger safely under her pillow, and curled the down comforter around her against the cold spring night. Tomorrow she would ask her father more.

Tears slid down Laehry's cheeks as she made her decision. Reaching under her pillow for the dagger, she silently climbed out of bed and dressed. Creeping down to the kitchen, she packed some bread, dried sausages, and a skin full of water in her school rucksack. She scribbled a note to her mother on a scrap of parchment she found tucked in her mother's desk:

Dear Mama,
I've gone to save Papa. I'll come back soon.
Love your,

Laehry

The front door squeaked just a little as she pulled it shut behind her and stepped into the moonlit road.

Chapter 1 - Dead

Thud! Whap! Whoosh! Snap! The thick branch sliced the air, connected with its target and shattered. Thirteen-year-old Laehry Midwood eyed the straw-filled dummy with pity. Poor fellow. His ragged head hung by a string and a dismembered leg lay across the barn atop the plow, a gruesome reminder that spring planting was just around the corner. Laehry crossed to retrieve it and had just settled the dummy and herself at the workbench for some repairs when hooves clattered on the cobblestone in the yard. She flung her work down and scampered to the door of the barn.

"Papa! Come see what I did to the dummy!" she hollered. She squinted as the March daylight flooded her eyes. Focusing, she saw that the horse was not her father's and that its rider had already dismounted and was sweeping into the kitchen in a swirl of cape and boots. Laehry bolted across the courtyard and yanked open the sturdy wooden back door.

Laehry's mother, Bati, slumped on the scrubbed kitchen floor clutching the plain oak table leg. Her faded blue skirt flowed out from under her, giving the impression of a wilted flower.

"They grabbed him. No one had time to do anything except run. There were too many." The man's white hand gripped the back of the chair as he stared down at her mother. "Giorgio is organizing a party of men to go after him. I have to get back or they will leave without me." He stroked his straw-colored beard as he turned to leave. "We'll find him, Bati." As he swept past Laehry she heard him mutter, "Or what's left of him."

"Mama! Mama!" Laehry ran to her mother. "What was Mr. Silasi talking about? Find who?"

"I always knew this would happen someday," Bati's eyes searched the floor before coming to rest on the daughter who knelt in front of her. "Your father was kidnapped from the pub by a gang of Snaugs. They took him into woods south of town an hour ago." Bati's tear-filled eyes met her daughter's. "Help me up, I'll go get Auntie Elly to come over and help with dinner." Wiping away the tears with the edge of her skirt, Bati hugged her daughter tight. "Don't worry, Lili, the men will bring him home to us. Now, you go up and put a fresh diaper on the baby and bring her down." She held Laehry now at arm's length and forced a smile. "Let's get dinner ready before your brother comes home."

Laehry turned in a daze and climbed the steps to the room she shared with her brother, Benti, and their baby sister, Graci. Graci had just recently learned to pull herself up in the crib and was standing now, soggy diaper limp around her waist. At the sight of her big sister, she grinned a wide baby-grin, revealing two stubby bottom teeth.

Laehry thought about her father as she put a dry diaper and fresh dress on Graci. Snaugs. She had heard kids in the village talk about them. Joby, the huge bully in her class at school, claimed that Snaugs stole an entire flock of sheep from his family two summers ago while his brother the sheep herder was asleep under the tree. Laehry thought it more likely that the sheep had been stolen by the Turners from over at the Bluff. No one really thought that Snaugs existed. But now the whole tavern had seen a gang of them yank her father from his barstool and drag him into the woods.

####

The next morning, Laehry was milking the goats and worrying about her father. Benti came into the barn, steam rising from his mouth in the early morning cold as he pulled the heavy, brown, wool sweater over his head and rubbed his eyes. Milking was usually her father's job, but last night before tucking her children into bed, Bati had told them they would be getting up extra early to do her father's chores. Bati herself was already forking hay out of the horses stalls while they grazed on the frosty grass in the paddock. Only baby Graci was still bundled up in her bed.

Together they finished the morning chores and trudged back to the kitchen for breakfast. Laehry stared at the lumpy oatmeal on her spoon, trying to will in down her throat and into her stomach. She wasn't hungry. Glancing around the table, she saw that her brother was likewise staring at his spoon. Her mother had given up on eating and frowned as she nursed the baby. Horse hooves rang out in the cobblestone courtyard. Abruptly, Bati stood up, still clutching the baby as she opened the door.

The courtyard was filled with horses and ragged-looking men from the village. Hiram Silasi approached her with a bundle in his arms.

"We found these, Bati," he mumbled, thrusting the bundle at her. Close up, Bati could see it was a pile of clothing. Fort's clothing. She lost her grip on the bundle and it fell on the kitchen doorstep, revealing heavy blood-stains on the front of the shirt and pants. Bati gasped and froze in the doorway.

"Mama!" Laehry and Benti both ran to their mother. Peering around her skirt, they saw what she saw.

"We don't have much hope that he's still alive. It's an awful lot of blood to lose. I'm sorry, Bati." Silasi stood staring at the side of the house with his hat in his hand. "My wife is feedin' our own wee ones. As soon as she's finished, I'll send her over to see if you're needin' anything." He turned to go and then stopped, "I'm real sorry, ma'am. Your husband was a good, honest man. We all thought so." Nods and murmurs of agreement moved through the crowd of me in the courtyard.

"Thank you all for looking for him," Bati found her voice and addressed the search party. "Your efforts are a great comfort to me." With that, the men remounted and nudged their horses out of the courtyard and onto the road, each one heading for his house and bed.