someone said on Friday, we could write a book on the lives we've led

Had it been 2006, I would probably have said, "go for it!".

Now I thought about structure, scope, chance of success, flow, narrative v description, waving at the bull and not being there when it arrivcs, and the chance of an Agent and shook my head.

Do we as writers need to move back to being Pantsers and just doing it.

I'm coming back from losing everything on the disks to losing the plot and although have 60K words joined up I'm as a Pantser but using Scrivener to aid thinking and document rather than using Freemind to document characters and plan and just writing,

I've built a purpose built machine using SSD for drive C and Raid 1 for Drive G - where the writing is stored but in a way I'm not as fluid as I was on the old machine.

I know I've gone back to a prequel but that is taking me back another prequel before that and I start Mi Kee/Astoria as nothing more than a fairy story about a failed Chinese Mandarin, a Saltie, a Parrot, two Cats, a Vortex on an Island with the Vortex producing a woman at some time. I've no idea where that went.

I'll see if I can find some of it. A lot of the other stuff I have already rewritten but haven't work through to the point of deleting it.

Dave

Mi Kee in his life administered justice according to the rules, and the rules were laid down. Mi Kee was absolute in his belief in the rules; he felt he administered according to the law and the rules of his office. Only now did that start to bother him as he lost all of his organisation and was alone facing his actions.

The rules and the law had been laid down: the culprits were guilty or they wouldn’t be here before him – would they …?

No matter what he felt it was laid down and he ruled accordingly – often amongst heaps of bodies but everything according to the rules. His destruction of villages was never personal and the law proscribed that if they broke the law you killed them and destroyed their village – it was never personal and he always believed that.

The lovers watch as they were forced to. No water should be in the pool before they were forced to watch the water flow and know their heads would fall into it. The families had paid for their trial and justice would be done, and since they were honoured families – very honourable families the money would flow into his mentor’s benevolence; perhaps justice would flow out and his white cap button might change it’s colour. He watched the lovers look at each other as they watched the water rose. Yes, they looked at each other and he could see the love in their eyes and that told him, if nothing else they were guilty … as an act of kindness he’d allowed them to face each before they were beheaded. A gentle impulse but one he wanted to make even if it broke the rules. Mi Kee moved towards the pool to face his wife for the last time.

He always felt he should observe the process and judgement as the heads floated in the water …? Well, this was something he felt and he’d seen too many pieces of water used to prove adultery when the Magistrate wasn’t there – the law would be upheld and not used to kill, especially now – he hadn’t meant to find them together – he’d just arrived home early and summons the Guards – now justice would take it’s role.

Perhaps this was his thought as he watched the pool fill and move towards it to check as tears fear his eyes; catching his foot on one of the blood gutters surrounding the pool he fell head first into the pool.

Mi Kee now found himself lying on a beach with a spinning storm almost a face in his face with the colours watching him. A large log nearby spoke to him, “get this damned parrot off my back … it’s driving me spare with its screaming!”

Mi Kee confusion increased even more as he understood what the log was saying and it wasn’t mandarin and his panic erupted as the log suddenly stood up and moved towards him with the parrot screaming even more.

Chapter XX - Kina

Donina, was fulfilling her duties with King Martan and she saw him once again shake his head.

“Have I failed you, my Lord?”

“You have never failed me, Donina – I failed you.”

“How could you fail me, my Lord?”

“I should have stopped making love to you when I knew you were with child, Donina.”

“I’m not with child, my Lord.”

“Charles Dastry via my future wife Princess Routani, has informed me, you are expecting.”

“You didn’t know, my Lord; how could the toad know?”

“The toad jumps everywhere, my love, and I assume one of my loyal subjects who observed you, saved a pigeon from an early dinner; Dastry normally eats slugs and now he would appear to want to eat more nourishing food!”

“One of your people betrayed us?”

“Why do you seem so surprised, Donina. Betrayal, never surprises me.”

“I will never betray you, my Lord.”

“I know that, Donina and that is why I must lose you, and loose you.”

“Keep me by your side, my Lord. I do not seek more than that.”

“Kings, Donina, are as much in love with you as they are with their responsibilities and beliefs. Don’t ask me to explain, I don’t know if I could, or if I would, if I could; I must marry Princess Routani for stability – there must be a Queen or the attempts to kill me will achieve even greater success by civil war and this country destroyed if I die without someone on the throne. I think even now that Sir Charles Dastry is on his way by some magic of Princess Laseith. My only hope is to make sure Princess Routani knows she is as much a victim as I am. I will marry Routani but you must leave and seek whatever sanctuary you can find and bring our son or daughter to a better ending than they will have here and I will always love and treasure you, and our child.”

“Can you be still my Lord, or we lose a moment’s love?”

“We have peace for the moment, Donina but I have to head east for yet another battle. People should protect me.”

“Will they, my Lord? You don’t want me with you to watch over your back?”

“Our child will live, and hopefully so will you – watching my back in a battle is beyond your skills my love and so you must leave, Donina and now.”

“I will never leave you, my Lord. My body may but I will never leave you, my heart.”

“The sooner your body leaves me, the sooner my heart will stop leaving my body. Take what you need, Donina, there is a bag of crowns on the table – take them; head for where you feel safe!”

“Quietly, my Lord. Perhaps it is better I leave now – I know someone of the old beliefs; she knows how to hide …? She and her husband have hidden for years.”

“You would trust one of them?”

“We killed and destroyed them, they didn’t kill us and we forced them to …. Jacque and Mari keep and breed hawks now but I wonder if they will keep me?”

“Perhaps they will but I doubt it. The Matira’s were the biggest killers of the old races … those they found; and, yes, they found a lot. Those they didn’t kill, they imprisoned and worked to death as slaves; people of this country fought to rule in Toshonia – Trons, Dwarf’s and Minuets – they killed, or tried to kill! Why would anyone of the old stock help a King of Toshonia?”

“Perhaps they will help me. Can I leave in the morning, my Lord. We still have time.”

“Yes, time for you to die if you stay, Donina … I think not. Sir Charles, I am told, is already on his way to murder. Leave now. Horses are ready and my Royal Own will escort you to safety. Ride, Donina, ride and do not stop until you find your chances in life – let that be our legacy. Do not tell me where you ride – just ride. You must be gone but never from my heart or mind. I sacrifice you for the people of this kingdom … I have no choice, now ride Donina, ride!”

Chapter XXI - Drufus Meets Arturo

The magic of Drufus did not bring Arturo to the main hall but with a gut wrenching motion, Arturo found himself facing an altar with soldiers behind him and behind the altar, Drufus sharpening a knife, “I’ve always found sharpened knives concentrate the mind almost as much as a hanging and that can be arranged, Arturo, if necessary – Sir Facid has no love of Laseith or her games, and my scroll was never intended to allow Laseith, her broomstick or you to travel anywhere unless I planned it. I had planned to try and open an inter-planetary hole to send Laseith to and with that broomstick to accompany her to some godforsaken planet where magic does not function but I do make mistakes in my magical coding and instead people and animals came from other worlds to Dagril; the scrolls are still there and you are here. Laseith and her broomstick, with my compliments, went back to Ascan.”

Laseith arriving back at Ascania, found herself back in the study opposite her bedchamber once again. She looked around for Arturo and her broomstick. The broomstick seemed unchanged and filled the room with its presence but Arturo was nowhere to be seen.

After the trip to Dagril and the swift transfer back she felt she needed a bath – it had been a while since her last and perhaps a change of clothing might be of relevance. She moved out of the study to the bedchamber opposite and caught sight of Guards outside King Machael’s bedchamber which was unusual as she had planned for him to be off to the east looking for the foes her agents had planted stories of – her agents would be hearing from her about that and with some force.

She’d wanted access to Queen Amanda for a possible accident to occur without the King around – Machael should not be in the castle. She stormed off to her bedchamber and that annoyed her as well – one bedchamber for a Princess!

Things would change once Machael was dead. His wife might be pregnant, she, however would not bear a child; Arturo had seen to that – there would be no sons or daughters from King Machael as far as Laseith was concerned but why Guards on his bedchamber door?

She headed for her bath with the broomstick trailing. It would sort out any slobbish lack of respect for her body from the servants. Despite the broomstick and Laseith’s temper it took a while for the bath to be ready and most of the servants ran for it when the broomstick decided to switch a few branches at them for the water being too hot; leaving Laseith facing a new technology called ‘taking a bath unaided’. Laseith wondered how the broomstick knew what she was thinking and then attacked? Whether she could ever control it was another question? The bath at least was decent and hot and she sank into it minus everything that went into another hot tub.

She tried to get her broomstick to wash her back, or, at least to try and herd the servants back so she had some soap. That was the last she saw of the servants for some hours and several of them could hardly walk then.

She really needed to understand the broomstick which had now taken off again. At times, it didn’t just have a mind of its own, it also took over her mind, which was probably not a difficult thing to do. She had no regard for life; she killed as her mother had … maybe the techniques were a little different but what did it matter if they were dead?

Arturo had been her preferred killer and was usually good at it until he’d disappeared but he’d be back and more determined than ever to follow her instructions once she caught up with him. The broomstick would see to that.

The hot water made her relax and that released thoughts she’d never sought, as if a tapestry were re-writing her mind and the imaginary needles pricked her ideas – she never sought thoughts, herself – what was the point, she just did what she wanted; now she found herself thinking …? Why were there Guards outside Machael’s bedchamber? Laseith rose from her bath like a surfacing whale and there was a lot in common between them.

To say she dressed quickly would be an understatement considering she had to get out of the bath and across the aisle, and then a long walk – north – to the door of her chamber and people would pay for her door being on the north side of the building while her bath door was on the south – behind her bedchamber with no door to access it.

She chose the right-hand side away from the Guards as she still had problems dressing herself. Dressing herself for a change wasn’t easy with only the broom to assist, but she was out of her bedchamber as soon as she could, and with a swift left turn, on her way to face the Guards outside of the King’s bedchamber, complete with the impetus of the broomstick now in front of her.

Approaching the door she was stopped by Guards who did not appear to be frightened of her and her brain was immediately, via her mouth spraying every insult and threat she could think of. Who were Guards to stopped her – she was Royalty.

In the King’s bedchamber stood a priest of Astoron – his name was Myrow, which was not his fault since he could hardly have objected at the time but there was yet another substantial donation to the Temple of Astoron as Laseith tried to force her way in.

Myrow knew he would lose either the child or the mother if he diverted his magic and his calling was to save the mother but Queen Amanda had specified the child over her own survival and now Laseith and her broomstick were channelling his magic away from Queen Amanda to Laseith and her broomstick, and the door was being forced open, no matter what they did.

Finally seeing Laseith’s face and the strong force beating against the door and Guards, Myrow ripped off his religious emblem and hurled it at the door. It sparkled as it travelled through the air and pressure immediately ceased.

Princess Amanda groaned and the baby appeared with nurses immediately rushing to her.

Myrow knew he’d lost Queen Amanda and looked up as she died bearing the child she had called Miranda – Myrow knew that was Amanda’s decision – she’d told him that Miranda was the priority and he heard Amanda’s words at this point echoing in his mind, ‘they can kill me but my child will kill them’.

Had Laseith broken in, both would have died. At least this way the child lived. Without Laseith and her broomstick trying to break in, he might have saved both – another death on Laseith’s lack of conscience.

Laseith and that evil weapon had killed another innocent woman – long may she rot in the hells thought Myrow. The priest closely watched the nurses cleaning up the baby and turning to the nurses produced a chain, “this is for the child – she will wear it to protect her and my God will also protect her and anyone who harms her will suffer his wrath,” if Astoron can be bothered he thought – how many Gods were really there and how much of his magic was ‘old magic’.

To say Princess Laseith was happy with the sound of a child crying and her broom not being able to break into the birth-room would be an understatement.

So far, Laseith had lost her killer; lost the magic scrolls, and now King Machael had a child – she would do something about that – no-one crossed her … no-one! The child would live a few hours and then die from complications – two of the nurses would arrange for mistakes – it often happened in those early minutes after birth!

Laseith was already back in the study with a glass scrying globe trying to watch Machael’s bedchamber however, for some reason she was having trouble. Everything seemed to be blurred and any image she caught immediately moved away from her until her eyes were watering and she still hadn’t seen anything. She moved the scrying to the bedchamber door with the two Guards still outside and then she saw two Guards move from inside the room, one of them carrying a saddlebag over her shoulder. So there were just her nurses, the baby and the priest. Soon it would all be over.

What she didn’t see in the saddlebag was a snuggled, well-wrapped baby on it’s way to a wet-nurse – the nurses were now on their knees and sleeping …?

The baby was, at least, safer now than it had been before and King Machael knew the baby would be safe and had agreed to this – Myrow had given his word and that was one reason why Queen Amanda died and the baby lived – the girl was certainly safer now than she would be as King Machael prepared for yet another battle.

Laseith watch the priest of Astoron leave some twenty minutes later, leaving the two Guards at the door. It would take Princess Laseith and her broomstick some twenty minutes to find the sleeping nurses who would be moved very shortly; surrounded by Guards – by which time – the baby would be feeding and on it’s way to the temple of Astoron.

Laseith’s temper, never good, was now incandescent and even the broomstick seemed worried, whilst Routani was quivering, “I will get those bastards, Routani Jamesson! No-one thwarts me. That idiot, Arturo, deserved whatever he got and those nurses are dead – they deserve to die for failing me – did you have them taken care of?”

“They’ve been taken care of, Laseith. As you ordered.”

All of the nurses were in fact pumped full of sleeping potions by Myrow, and Routani’s attempts to quietly kill them meant waiting for the Guards and nurses to both wake up. The soldiers who were ready to carry out Laseith’s instructions were now quietly sleeping in the dungeons, and they had enjoyed the fruits of their potential labours – sent by Laseith, who didn’t know she had sent them and they would be ready for the front when the army finally left, and King Machael promised himself they would be in front of him!

King Machael was well used to the attempts by Laseith and Routani to kill people but killing Laseith and Routani would to himself, indicate failure and to the people of his country, a lack of succession leading to Sir Facid and Sir Charles Dastry looking to their own succession.

It was easier to have their attempts miscarry than try to stop them – in some cases, he couldn’t stop them but that was a price to pay for stability although the dead people would probably disagree.

If he ever found a way for both Laseith and Routani to pay with their own poison he would be interested, however for now he had little choice, possibly it was a pity King Machael was not present at his adopted daughters’ little chat that followed soon afterwards as they realised they had been out-thought by a mere man.

Laseith, in a formidable temper as usual had found failure even harder to take ans was fighting the urge to use her broomstick and no longer have a sister, but it was too early claim both Ascania and Toshonia …? Well, maybe … No … maybe, but not like that. Finally she moved her temper to mere furnace level, “Routani, let us look at your marriage and subsequent widowhood to and of, King m.”

“I haven’t even married him yet, Laseith and you are killing him – should I have a succession first?”

“I like to plan ahead, Routani. Well, we need to sort out that concubine. We don’t want competition before he dies.”

“The Chancellor is still working on the marriage arrangements, it will be months before I am married to Martan. Why you are planning now?”

“I’m looking after you, my sweet sister. When I have finished I will rule Ascania and Toshonia – we, my sister …? We! Yes, we will rule both and no-one will ever say, ‘nay’ to us – we will rule!”

“How do we kill this child, Laseith? I’m not even in the castle nor do I have people to kill her?”