Excerpt 2: Dialogue

Okay, because I had just an enthusiastic response to my last excerpt I have decided to post another one. Oh, wait. Actually only one person besides me even visited the blog since the last post. It doesn't matter, I'm doing it anyway. You think this blog is for you, the reader? It's a creative outlet for me, the writer, who is too high brow to care if anyone reads or likes what I write. Oh, and please leave some feedback this time, sheesh.

Anyway, I have decided I will post three excerpts. An example of my description (already posted), an example of my dialogue (this post), and an example of action (yet to come). The following scene may come across as strange out of context and is still the unedited first draft, but take my word for it, it's one of my better scenes. It is the first two pages of chapter 31.

“We must capture some knights,” said Raban.

The bandits stared at him. “Pardon my hearing, but could you repeat that please?” Falk was wide eyed, something Raban had never seen before.

“We must capture some…”

“I heard you the first time,” Falk roared. “Have you gone mad? Did your stint in the dungeon loosen your brain?”

“We just rescued you at the expense of two of our friends,” said Cyr. “And the first thing you want us to do is go prancing back into Saint Bellamy and politely ask some knights to join us for a walk in the country.”

Raban absorbed the bitterness. Something inside him knew that he was to blame and he deserved whatever his men were bold enough to say.

“Since when is it well that we slur our leader?” said Odger.

“Since he proved unfit,” Emmeran mumbled, just loud enough to be heard.

“Fool,” Odger growled. “Raban has always led us well, to be sure. And to betray him is to betray Bero, for he is the chosen replacement.”

“Bero did not act foolishly and get his men killed,” Martin said, then silenced himself and glanced at Raban, a soundless apology.

“Neither has Raban,” Turpin said quietly. “Even if we were all here we cannot know that we would have escaped. Perhaps the man on watch would have been killed by stealth. We know they had large numbers. They may have taken us in a charge. We will not know what would have happened, so it is fruitless to lay blame. Raban acted foolishly, no doubt. But perchance he acted foolishly and saved eleven of his men, rather than killed two.”

They were silent, thinking on what Turpin had said. Raban loathed being talked about as though he was not there, but he knew he must let his men speak their minds.

“May I ask a query?” said Walaric, clearly uncomfortable joining in the dispute.

Raban nodded.

“Why are we to capture a number of knights?”

“I’m pleased you have asked,” Raban smiled. “To judge them.”

“You’re not serious,” Emmeran sulked. “You still think you are God’s own sheriff?”

Raban thought a moment. “You know, I believe you’ve put words to it nicely.”

All were silent for a moment, then Falk let out a bitter chuckle. “It’s only fair for God to have a finger in the world. The devil’s got enough.”

“When I was in The Court,” said Allowin, “we played a game with little figures on a board to imitate battle. Now, the lucifer may have more pieces left, but our father in heaven has the better strategy, that’s sure.”

“So…we are the pieces,” Walaric was puzzled.

Raban smiled. He had seen the game that Allowin spoke of. Though most the others did not follow their friend, Raban understood.

“How are you planning on capturing these blessed knights?” asked Cyr, returning to the matter.

“On a hunt,” said Raban. Charlemagne beat his wings and screamed. The sound echoed through the forest, glancing off trunks and darting through the laden limbs. A bough released its load nearby and the cascade of snow struck the ground with a muffled thud. The high wavering cry ebbed away slowly.

“That bird is going be our deaths,” growled Falk. “If not from giving us away, then giving us fits.”

Raban exhaled, realizing that he had been holding his breath.

“Do you really think that they will continue the hunts in this bitter cold?” Turpin asked.

“Yes,” Allowin interrupted. “In a castle full of knights someone will always find sometime to hunt something, even if it is only the serfs’ livestock or the street curs.”

This is bordering on giving too much away, and it pains me to post it. But knowing the traffic on this blog, I'm not too worried. If three people in the world have a little spoiler I can live with that.