The book itself is set in a fantasy land where there is plenty of magic and people are not always who and what they seem. The first book, is almost a prequel setting the stage for book two which is much longer and really dives into some twisting plots and the relationships around the main character, and his struggles with them.
I've really enjoyed seeing the characters develop and grow. I think sometimes main characters can be too perfect, or too "set" to really change and grow as people do and that can get boring to read. I felt like this kept a more open mind in that regard and you see the changes that are the results of his past come to light. I hope you enjoy the quick preview I was able to get you - and I would love to know if any of you pick up the full copy - what your thoughts are!
Trust in the Dark, Book 1
The boat rocks, the smell and taste of salt from the
waters assault my senses. A strong wind pulls us through the waters quickly
tonight, for which I am very thankful. I watch the stars gain brightness in the
falling shadows of a peaceful night. The ship rocks us safely, trustfully in
the dark, like a lullaby and pushing us into the hands of fate. Leaning over
the rail I close my eyes. How long has it been? How long have I been away from
my friend… my soul, my love?
Love… I have loved so few. My prince, my position, my
family, my teachers and my confidants… of those I have had too few of. “Trust.”
I remind myself running a hand through my hair twisting it and pulling it over
a shoulder. The wind whips it apart and it flows once again tangling in the
wind. I sigh, lost in my thoughts, uncaring about the events around me. This
would be the test, this journey of mine. My feet are upon the only path fate
has laid out for me, and yet I can only pray to the Ten that it will not end in
disaster. I have had my share of hurt and pain… I would not wish that upon
another.
I boarded this ship bound to fulfill a promise, to say
the unspoken words left between us by poor circumstance. The weeks of slow
travel, and a winding course plotted by the Captain tear at my very soul. I
long to be off this shi, to rest in a real bed, eat and laugh in the comfort of
friendship. Friendship, yes always my friend beyond doubt. Never was anyone
truer, more honest, even when lying to me. I shake my head; I have no answer
for the lies that stand between us. My
hands tighten on the railing, as I peer out to the inky darkness… somewhere out
there are the answers I seek. If only I could see far enough, the time for
illusion, masks, and unspoken words is at an end.
When did it begin? Ah yes, a smile drifts across my face…
I remember
Chapter
1:
“One day, just another day.” The boy reminds himself… the
pungent smell of the streets next to the market do nothing to quell the pains
of his stomach. Somewhere a baker will be pulling out hotcakes, and another has
sausages plump with spices and dripping with fats. He can smell each of them
even at this distance. He doesn’t even care that those smells are mixed with
the heap from a horse left to cool, or the rankness from the alleyway full of
trash and urine behind him. He sits huddling over his bare feet as they rest on
the dirt path. His knees pulled up tightly to his chest seeking shelter from
the cool harvest wind that came up from the sea this afternoon. It will rain
again tonight. His clothes are still damp from yesterday, and now caked with
mud. His hair hangs long past his shoulders, matted and tangled having never
seen a bushing. He searches the crowd covertly; he will need enough coin to pay
for the use of the Den tonight. He needs the shelter to dry and warm up, he
can’t risk getting sick. “Best get on with it.” He thinks quickly rubbing his
shins and arms with his hands to gain some feeling. Standing he looks about the
market place, and edges carefully back towards the shelter of the cold stone
building behind him. Here the buildings were all made of stone; some carved
some stacked, or cobbled together depending on your wealth. The richest off of
Princes Lane all boasted smooth stone, seamless and rounded corners many even
having been tinted and colored with costly dyes or magic’s. Each bold color
marks the uniqueness to their prestigious residents. Here in the Old Market,
the stones are old worn and rough with age. There is none of that glamour or
richness surrounding this market. All the buildings are more functional then
beautiful, this is where the lowbred marketers live and work. Generation after
generation they toiled their crafts, fending off beggars, and dippers like him
in order to have enough to sell from their shops. Many of them starved as often
as he did, but they were lucky. They had a roof on a cold night, maybe even a
blanket or shoes. Most shop owners can even afford a fire in their small
hearths, to warm the thin broth or even make a hearty stew to fill their
bellies.
His eyes dart around
taking in the scene of people milling around, kids running unattended on the
dirt and cobbled streets. Separating each out in his mind, he searches the
crowd. He needs a mark, someone out with his or her betters coin. People who
lived here wouldn’t have much more then he did… he searched the crowds for just
one good mark. His need to be dry outweighed his need to steal food; he had
some moldy bread yesterday. Today he would need a coin, payment for the stone
floor and darkness of the Den. “Quickly, in and out.” He silently reminded
himself. “Believe you can do it; quick hands and smart wit will pull you
through. Think of the warmth and protection in the Den.” He focused his mind on
the task pushing aside his discomfort. “One good nights rest, and some bread if
the purse is heavy enough, yes… skill is all you need to survive.” He tells
himself again. Now look… a mark… just one good mark. He leans back on the old
building behind him casually to observe the crowd of people.
There.
A young man, he has dark, wavy hair. It sparkles in the
light, dancing loosely on his shoulders and back. His bright green eyes sparkle
and highlight the smile on his thin lips as he enjoys a laugh. He has long
legs, powerful, graceful like a hunter in the woods. He seems to glide with
ease as if a dancer at a ball… a sparkling bright dancer. “Ah! I see now, it’s
a pair…” They were laughing at some joke they shared; the other man is heavy
built, muscular and broad shoulders. His dark brown hair has tight curls and is
cropped short above his crisp shirt caller, and his beard and mustache are well
groomed, this one walks with a purpose and has the eyes of a hawk very
watchful. He stands to straight, like an arrow, despite his bland and plain
clothing, he doesn’t fool the boy whose senses begin screaming in warning. This
man does not belong in the Old Market!
The boy’s eyes continue to careful observe the pair, his
curiosity is now peeked “I wonder what this story is?” He knows as sure
as his lungs still take breath, they are men of means, and at least the second
is of noble birth. The other could have wondered in from the surrounding wilds.
It’s odd, for neither have a place in this dirty Old Market Square full of
peasants and common folk. Nobles and gents of means simply don’t come to the
Old Market a maid, or errand boy perhaps… never the Noble or gent themselves.
This is the boy’s playground, his turf.
His ice blue eyes roll back to the second’s soft face…
marking his rounded nose, high cheekbones, soft jaw… as he watches the bright
Hunter stops suddenly like a dog that has suddenly reached the end of his
chain, and as if pulled by an unseen force he jerks his head straight towards
the boy. How did he see me? Did
he know I was looking for a mark? The boy panics at the scene unfolding
before him shrinking, against the stone behind him, but those eyes! The
boy locks gazes, frozen, unable to move. He is caught looking at what can only
be a hunter, who knows is prey. The hunter’s smile has been lost and he has the
most puzzled look upon his face. His head tips slightly to his left. How old
is he? My age? No a few years older I think. The boy is lost with his thoughts, he
shouldn’t be watching any longer; a slow thief is a dead thief. The hunter’s
lips slowly curve up in a crooked welcoming smile only increasing the imaginary
brightness that surrounds him, and straightens his head. Then as if hearing the
boys silent question, he chances to send a quick nod of acknowledgement to the
boy, in response. The boy is jolted with the familiarity of this gester. RUN!
His mind screams. Flee! To be caught by the wrong gent could mean
slavery, or worse. He has seen worse intimately. He already knows what staying
grounded to this spot will mean for him. The noble man confused by the other’s
sudden action stops and calls to him the words are lost in wind. The hunter
turns his head to respond breaking eye contact for just a brief moment lifting
the spell between them. As he turns back towards the boy he starts to approach,
his long legs are quickly bringing him closer… to close to his prey. Run,
now! Suddenly the boy’s legs stop betraying him and with a sudden burst he
breaks away… dashing half way down the block.
The boy risks all to turn his head while rounding a corner at the edge
of the market to see if he is still pursued. The pair now stands in the spot
the boy had just vacated. The noble seems not to understand what he is looking
for, and pulls his jacket around his broad chest tightening it against the cool
air. The boy rounds the corner to the alleyway and pauses, as the run down
house is now blocking him from his pursuers view. Resting his hands on his knees he takes a calming breath. He
pulls himself back up straight and turns foolishly back. A brave single step
returns him to their line of sight. The boy not using his own good wits to keep
running looks back to the pair. They could easily close the gap, but they stand
still waiting for the boy. The graceful hunter is stands in front of the
nobleman, his eyes shining in the dim of the impending afternoon rain. The boy
is again captured by the enchantment of those eyes. Scarcely noting the hunters
hands as they rise from his side, palms up... as if to question why the boy had
run from him. But, they keep their distance and do not try to approach again.
The boy takes another breath. He draws himself up to his full height, as if
mocking the straight arrow line of the second man. He smiles at them, boldly, and without fear, issuing a challenge
and saying “not today!” claiming his own small freedom. The boy returns
the level gaze of the hunter, and with a swift nod of his head to returns the
earlier acknowledgment. Then crossing his arm in front of his belly he issues a
stiff courtly bow to them both, just before spinning on his heels and
continuing on his way down the dark alleyway. What was that? The boy
berates himself. Never, has he brought such attention to himself before. He
placed himself too close to danger, he knows better. You never know what noble
or gent in this town will do you harm, or do you to your death. It’s best not
to step in their path, as none of them can be trusted. The boy shakes his head
as he reprimands himself for his irrational actions. Knowing he will get no
easy mark today with those two standing guard, he cuts through the alleyways to
the better part of town. The season is still early, perhaps it wont be that
cold. He will have to risk a different sort of shelter tonight.
“What was that all about, Rimmer?” The noble man asks his
friend who is still staring at the place where the odd waif of a boy had last
been seen.
“I... hmm?” Rimmer shakes his head as if clearing it, “I
don’t quite know.” He turns back to his friend looking at him for a moment. “Do
you think you can arrange a private meeting between Master Vass and I…
discreetly?” The noble looks at him curiously.
“You know I can.” He raises an eyebrow waiting for an
explanation. When none was forthcoming he clasps his hand on his friends shoulder.
“Of course I will, tomorrow. Now, come. My time is precious and this is a rare
treat for me!” He turns. Pulling his hood back up over his head and continues
to walk taking in the sights and smells of the dingy marketplace.
