Swords with Souls: Relics (The Sword Maker) B76

Swords with Souls

A Medieval Fantasy Fiction Story

(Adult Content)

By Dan Watt

(Author of the BARD series)

BARD covers by fantasy_art_z

Book 2 of the BARD series: BARD: Owner of the Gemstone a dark fantasy novel

Cover by Darren Joy

(Author of the Plagueborn series)

A Viral Imperium Book one of the Plagueborn series

Relics

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The creatures with the glowing eyes or bodies are keeping ahead of him again as he swims near the bottom of the river. Whatever his lover did it’s made his lungs much stronger. The ancient ruin flies by as he swims with the undercurrent of the river. But he extends his hands to slow down when a curious glimmer appears ahead. Between balls of Marimo moss is a quarter eared woman, fully intact. Much like his lover her skin is a pinkish-green. She’s wearing the shells of the very rare pearl mussels over each breast and her navel. The glimmer he saw though, is coming from the band of silver around her head. In the centre of the band is a Cornish green Serpentine stone. Her face appears so alive he fights the pull of the undercurrent to see if her eyelids with their dark eyelashes will open. But the determined face stays unchanged.

Swimming rapidly again with the undercurrent he suddenly feels ill. Within the walls of another ruined building there is an average sized human skull encircled by a band of silver. Equally spaced around the band are four smoky-clear cairngorm quartz stones. A silver chain bolted to the back of the band disappears beneath the silt of the river’s bedding. On the remaining wrist is a wide banded silver circlet with alternating stones of amber, Black Tourmaline, and obsidian. Chained nearby is the rest of the torso but missing the legs and the right hand. A gold ring on the index finger of the lefthand glimmers with a green hue. He starts to reach for it until he realizes the stone is Moldavite.

As the sickening feeling grows, he hurries to the surface and gasps in air. But the air he inhales is foul and full of sickness. The horizon is now a dark red with blue clouds. Squinting away the water dripping from his hair he sees the dark outline of the Buttigieg Gardenery. The fire damaged tower seems to look back at him. Daring him to swim through the stagnant water that now washes back and forth from the wind. Was this what his lover wanted him to see and smell?

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Swords with Souls: Relics (The Sword Maker) B75

Swords with Souls

A Medieval Fantasy Fiction Story

(Adult Content)

By Dan Watt

(Author of the BARD series)

BARD covers by fantasy_art_z

Cover by Darren Joy

(Author of the Plagueborn series)

Relics

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He dives much deeper and sees the shadowy ruins of stone and mortar buildings. Whatever wood they once contained must have rotted away. Something glitters up from a mess of iron bindings. He still feels he can hold his breath longer so he dives down and carefully reaches through the bindings and mud for the object. It’s an amethyst ring with a gold band too large for him to wear. He doubts even the giant, Jedreck has a finger thick enough to put it on.

He slips the ring loosely over his left index finger and curls the finger to keep a hold of the it. There’s something yellowish, like bone revealed from removing the ring. He kicks his legs to stay down as he wraps his right hand around it. A massive skeleton hand with a missing ring finger comes out. He feels a shiver and drops it. Swimming a little further on he sees more rusting iron bindings. He brushes them aside. A skull with a jeweled gold crown peers back at him. The skull must be as large as his upper torso. Beside the corpse, have buried in mud, is a thick leather tome. He’s shocked that it looks undamaged. He grabs a hold of it.

The skeletal hand and skull make him feel like he’s running out of air. With the tome and ring in his left hand he kicks rapidly to get away from the ruins.

As soon his head breaks the surface of the river, he no longer sees the two beams of light. He crawls onto the shore and sits on the bank, staring intently into the water. He doesn’t see any sign of the glowing fish, eels or other sea creatures that created the light.

Back in his home he places the tomb on his eating table and the overly large ring on top. From a string hanging on the opposite wall of his bed, he grabs a piece of dried and salted bream. As he munches on the bream, he realizes he’ll have to buy more sea salt from traveling gypsies or request soldiers to ask their comrades to bring some with them when they pick up the new swords. He feels reenergized and a need to go back into the river.

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Swords with Souls: Relics (The Sword Maker) B74

Swords with Souls

A Medieval Fantasy Fiction Story

(Adult Content)

By Dan Watt

(Author of BARD series)

BARD covers by fantasy_art_z

Cover by Darren Joy

(Author of the Plagueborn series)

Relics

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The Sword Maker vaguely remembers her saying soothing words as she straddled his back and rubbed an ointment that smelled of arnica between his shoulder blades. “This will help the pain caused by the transformation,” she had said before kissing his upper back and leaving.

His body jolts and he cries out as a feeling akin to finely sharpened blades cut simultaneously into two sides of his back, just behind where his lungs are. He tries to sit up but the pain is too great. Digging his toes and fingers into the sheet of his bed, he can barely breathe as the cut goes deeper. His whole-body clenches as air escapes through the slices. But then something bizarre happens. As the skin on either side of the wounds feels like its folding slightly back, air begins escaping from his lungs. Still lying on his stomach, and covered in sweat, he falls back asleep.

When he wakes in the middle of the night; he’s starving. From a clay pot he scoops out a bowl of mashed oats and barley porridge. Stiffly he makes a fire and boils the porridge before adding some honey he bought from a neighbor. Naked he sits on a log eating as he stares across the river. After he finishes, he can smell that he stinks of sweat and decides to take a bath.

As he dunks his head underwater, he notices two strange circles of light against the pebbles of the river’s floor. The lights are about as wide as his hands and close together. He wonders if they’re made by the moonlight and perhaps a bright star. Fascinated, he dives under the water. He sees the lights move forward as he does. He wonders if there are creatures that live in the water that glow at night. He’ll have to surface soon for air but he feels he can dive a bit deeper first.

The circles of light expand as he swims deeper. As he does eels and fish scatter amongst the stems of water lilies and hair grass. As he goes deeper, he can see java moss growing off rocks and waterlogged wood. He is now swimming deeper than he ever has. But other than the weird flapping sensation between his shoulder blades, he feels he can stay under longer. He gazes up and the lights circle around the silky strands of hornwort, telling him he’s still close to shore.

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Movie Review of THE PHOENICIAN Scheme

Movie Review of

The PHOENICIAN Scheme

By Dan Watt

(Author of BARD: Bearer of the Gemstone and BARD: Owner of the Gemstone)

Wes Anderson’s Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou is a go to movie for me.

And I thoroughly enjoyed The PHOENICIAN Scheme. A movie about the 5% man who wants to build amazing constructions and his interaction with his daughter. As he tries to get investors someone once close is trying to remove him, literally. Will he succeed and is God on his side?

The main characters are highly intelligent, emotionally reserved, and straightforward—except for the shouting matches. You might say the background is often a moving tapestry of yellows and blues with turquoise dominating most of the sets. The conversations are more like soliloquys mixed with asides with the characters rarely talking over each other. With Anderson’s direction and Bruno Delbonnel’s cinematography, the imagery is bright with pastel backgrounds. The close ups are reminiscent of the early black and white closeups where the characters’ reaction and expressions are accentuated.

Benicio Del Torro is perfect in the lead. A mixture of Howard Hughes and Anthony Quinn. Creative, solid, smart, and determined.

Mia Threapleton plays an unwavering daughter who is both compassionate and hardened by life. She keeps her emotions in check but not her thoughts.

Michael Cera is more than the smiling German entomologists he portrays but you’ll have to watch it to find out what that means.

The movie’s atmosphere is similar to sitting in a bar where the jazz music is soft and comfortable one moment than lively and structurally chaotic the next.

Kudos to the writers: Wes Anderson and Roman Coppola

This is a smart script with just the right amount of social, economic, and religious commentary mixed in with a good amount of action.

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Swords with Souls: Regicide? (Madame Swan) B73

Swords with Souls

A Medieval Fantasy Fiction Story

(Adult Content)

By Dan Watt

(Author of BARD series)

BARD covers by fantasy_art_z

Cover by Darren Joy

(Author of the Plagueborn series)

Regicide?

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She can’t leave him to fight alone. It’s been a long time since she’s thrown her knives but what choice is there? Squeezing Fylste’s sides with her knees she gets behind the guards as they engage with Crimmthan.

Crimmthan’s thoroughbred batters one of the soldier’s shields with his flank, knocking the guard to the ground. At the same time, she sees Crimmthan slash down at the other guard’s sword hand.

These are professional guards with helmets on. She doesn’t see any protective bear skin, so she gets Fylste to halt and slides off. She charges ahead with both knives out. From behind the guard fighting with Crimmthan, she stabs blindly up into the front of the guard’s helmet. The guard impulsively elbows her. This gives Crimmthan the opportunity to cut deeply into the guard’s wrist.

Out of the corner of her eye she sees the other guard getting up from the ground. Without hesitating she flicks her free knife at his visible eye. He bats it away. She runs away from where Crimmthan is while holding out her other knife feebly. There’s no sense throwing it; the guard would just block it with his shield. She steps back and sideways so the soldier’s back is to Crimmthan. At least one of them can get away.

This guard is too big and powerful for her to have any hope of escaping. As he charges her, she backpedals and slips on the rain drenched grass. There’s a whoosh sound. The guard arches his back. Through years of training, he keeps hold of his sword and shield as he makes a quarter turn. There’s another whoosh sound and he drops his sword to cover the side of his neck.

The rain is getting heavier. She glances everywhere before passing the reigns of Fylste to Crimmthann. Without another word she darts towards a wild privet shrub. She squeezes between it and a juniper bush to get to a birch tree. At the base of the birch, she digs frantically through the wet soil with her knife. As the birch grew over the years, she had to keep moving the leather pouch she kept her treasures in a little farther away. Her fingers are coated in dirt as she pulls the pouch out. She places a hand on the trunk of the birch and taking heavy breaths. Being more careful, she moves cautiously between the wild privet and the juniper. Squinting through the rain she can see Crimthann glance around before yanking his arrows out of the dead soldiers while holding the reigns of his horse and Fylste.

She hurries to him and takes Fylste’s reign. She places the pouch into one of Fylste’s saddlebags. Terrified but determined she collects her other throwing knife. While pulling her dagger free of Sir Emil’s right eyesocket, she scans everywhere as Crimthann yanks out the last of his arrows. When he’s done, she sees him take a dagger out of one of the guard’s sheaths and carve something into his forehead.

After Crimmthann mounts his horse, he nods at her. She climbs into Fylste’s saddle and follows him into a ravine that he keeps them in for a short while before they climb up the bank and head into a woodlot with a path. When they come to a road, she’s familiar with, he rides beside her.

“Why the arrows?” she asks, “And what did you put on his forehead.”

“The arrows have my design,” he replies. “Brass collars for weight. Good for shooting through high winds and rain but only at a short distance. I put what I hope is a simple but clear symbol of Sir Ganbold’s family on the soldier’s forehead.

She glances up into the pelting rain. “Is that honorable and shouldn’t we pull over?”

“Not yet,” he replies. “We want the rain to deform our tracks. I will admit my sins to him and his family, if I ever see any of them again.”

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Swords with Souls: Regicide? (Madame Swan) B72

Swords with Souls

A Medieval Fantasy Fiction Story

(Adult Content)

By Dan Watt

(Author of BARD series)

BARD covers by fantasy_art_z

Cover by Darren Joy

(Author of the Plagueborn series)

Regicide?

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She gasps.

“We are now under martial law,” Sir Emil continues in a lustful tone. “And the first law is that all women are to be married so that they can have children. The queen agrees with Regent Olaf that it is essential the kingdom increases its population.”

“But we have so few men,” she says.

“We will now be a polygamous society. Women who are not married will be sold to the highest bidder.” He glowers up at her. “Second, third, and such wives must abide by their husband’s and his first wife’s every rule. Not doing so will be punishable by death. Your brothel has been expropriated for the use of the kingdom to sell off unwed women. Are you married, Madame Swan?”

“I have accepted a marriage proposal,” she replies. She tries to think of how many girls work for her presently. If—when she marries Crimthann—they’ll purchase as many girls as they can.

“Since it hasn’t occurred yet, I am buying you as one of my extra wives.”

“Extra wives?” she asks.

“All your former workers have been sold already.” He leans over and gives a toothy smile. “Lucky I got you first.” He reaches for the reigns of her horse.

“What about Carl and Richard?” she asks as she grasps the handles of her knives.

Sir Emil shrugs. “They ran.”

Good she thinks. “I don’t think I can bear children.”

“We’ll have lots of opportunity to find out.”

She feels him pull the reigns tighter. Oh, well she thinks. It would have been nice to be married but she has no intentions of becoming a sex slave. “Did you take part of the rape and murder of the Ganbold family members?” Her voice is now cold and deadly.

“Those are treasonous words,” he warns as he uses one hand to grab the hem of her riding dress.

She spits into his eyes as she draws her nearest knife.

Sir Emil releases his grip and steps back, blinking his left eyelid as blood pours out of his right eye where a dagger is sunk deeply.

Madame Swan hears a whooshing sound near her left ear and glances ahead to the four other guards. One of them grasps his neck where an arrow now juts out. The sound of controlled hoof steps comes closer to her. She reaches forward and yanks her knife free. Sir Emil glares at her with his one good eye and draws his oversized bronze sword. She heaves her entire upper body forward and cuts open his forehead. As he wipes the blood from his left eye to see she slashes him across the neck.

Another arrow whooshes by her. Sir Emil is on the ground gasping as he tries to stifle the blood pouring from his neck with his hands. The only two remaining guards charge her way. They have their short swords drawn and leather hardened shields up. She knows she can’t beat them with knives. As she encourages Fylste to flee, Crimmthan charges by.

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Swords with Souls: Regicide? (Madame Swan) B71

Swords with Souls

A Medieval Fantasy Fiction Story

(Adult Content)

By Dan Watt

(Author of BARD series)

BARD covers by fantasy_art_z

Cover by Darren Joy

(Author of the Plagueborn series)

Regicide?

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As Madame Swan rides with Crimthann into Kingstown she trembles with an immediate sense of dread. Everything seems more enclosed in the drizzle that is common here. Covered in rivulets of rain water are the relatives of Sir Ganbold. Most are strung up on crosses, including children. Their eyes lifeless and their chests sunk and breathless. She gasps. She halts her horse as Crimthann rides a short distance ahead. For a moment she sees his face full of an expression twisted with grief and rage. One young woman, if not still a teen, lies with her upper body on a kitchen table with her skirt pulled over her bottom while her feet rest on the ground. Crimthann waves for her to move ahead. Together they encourage their mounts to trot past the corpses.

There is more confusion when they see a few soldiers led by the new royal guard, the one hand picked by Sir Olaf, standing around Savory Moments. She remembers now, his name is Sir Emil. He’s a hulking figure with blue topaz eyes that seem to sit too close to his long, narrow nose. His reddish blond hair is tied back and his long beard is tied just below the chin. She hears him calling out commands in a deep yet subtly winy voice. A man whose presence will draw respect from smaller men but without the powerful voice of Sir Olaf. Sir Olaf is a man to fear and respect, with a presence that people want to be near. This man would only ever be his weaker representative. She hears Crimthann talking to her.

“We should leave,” he warns.

“I need to check on the girls,” she says with trepidation. And she needs to dig up a few items buried by a specific birch tree. She counts four soldiers with Sir Emil as she checks on the knives hidden at the waist of her riding dress. There doesn’t seem to be anyone else around.

As she rides up to Sir Emil, she notices Crimthann does not follow. She glances back and sees him nudge his horse towards an outhouse surrounded by spruce near a stream. Once there he takes his bow out.

“Sir Emil,” she says with a weary smile.

“Madame Swan,” Sir Emil replies. “You have heard the news?”

“No, I just returned now,” she says with true concern.

“The traitor, Sir Ganbold sent assassins to kill our most beloved king with poison. Sir Olaf is now regent until the prince is old enough to rule.”

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Swords with Souls: Peering Into the Giant’s Maw (Sir Oliver) B70

Swords with Souls

A Medieval Fantasy Fiction Story

(Adult Content)

By Dan Watt

(Author of BARD series)

BARD covers by fantasy_art_z

Cover by Darren Joy

(Author of the Plagueborn series)

Peering Into The Giant’s Maw

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“Wait,” Lara says, taking his hand and leading him away from the others.

“You want a little romp before I go?” he asks with a jovial smile.

“What?” she asks, her face turning beat red.

He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head. “Just being humorous,” he replies hearing the confusion in his own voice.

“If you lose the sword in battle or someone tries to steal it, call its name twice in your head,” she says and reaches out with her hand.

He places the hilt of the sword into her hand. He sees her grasp it lightly.

“Now,” she says.

Undefeated, undefeated he thinks. The sword is suddenly in his hand.

“Ride safe, Sir Oliver,” she says with a sparkle in her eyes.

He steps forward for an embrace and kiss but she turns away and marches back to the others.

As he slaps bugs away while stepping on the swinging bridge a familiar hooded figure joins him. “We thought you disappeared,” he says with a chuckle after he places his palm over the pommel of the soul sword.

“I made a secretive swap with the Sword Maker,” she replies with a smug voice.

He sees a new short bow around her shoulders and a uniquely crafted short sword handing against her left thigh. “Does he know about this amicable trade?” he asks.

“Not yet,” Endellion replies. “Did you discover if Jedreck has a certain physical feature?”

He remembers seeing the double rows of molars at the very back of the giant’s mouth. Subconsciously he covers the quartz embedded pommel with his palm. “I did,” he replies, noticing for the first time how her cloak curves around her bosom and hips. “He’s a half breed of giant cannibals.”

“When will you start training Lara?” she asks.

He subconsciously runs his index finger over the pommel of his new sword. “Why would I train that murderous bitch? She’s already killed me once.”

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Swords with Souls: Peering Into the Giant’s Maw (Sir Oliver) B69

Swords with Souls

A Medieval Fantasy Fiction Story

(Adult Content)

By Dan Watt

(Author of BARD series)

BARD covers by fantasy_art_z

Cover by Darren Joy

(Author of the Plagueborn series)

Peering Into The Giant’s Maw

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They circle. As each tries to see an opening, Oliver tries to see inside Jedreck’s mouth. “You ever get a tooth ache,” he asks with unfamiliar boldness. He’s always been a silent fighter, even in sparring. The only time he talks is when he’s instructing. “Those arms better be longer than your legs or it’s going to be a painful day for you.” Grinning, he fakes an attack and laughing spins around to strike the inner thigh of the giant. He doesn’t feel he has complete control of his actions with the unfamiliar sword but his skill seems so much superior.

The giant swings his mammoth sword on an angle. He can’t duck under it so he jumps back and starts circling again. It’s time to see what damage this new sword can handle. He steps in and parlays Jedreck’s next attack. The impact should have jolted his entire arm but he hardly feels it. He spins and slaps the side of Jedreck’s thigh. He keeps striking the giant’s legs since he can’t get close enough to tap Jedreck’s stomach or lower back.

“Enough,” Jedreck calls, limping from all the bruises on his legs. “I understand why you are the Sword Master. May I see the sword?”

He passes it hilt first and watches in awe as three quarters of the sword disappears in the giant’s hand.

“Too small and light for me for a sword,” Jedreck says with a grin.

Staring up intently at the giant’s mouth, he says, “It looks like a knife in your giant paw.”

The giant laughs, giving him a good look inside his maw. As Jedreck passes back the sword, he realizes the Moon giants mated with giants on this island.

As he walks back to the others, he says with a bow to the bronzesmith, “Well met, Master Sword Maker.” “It’s time for me to go,” he tells Lara and the others.

“Wait,” Lara says, taking his hand and leading him away from the others.

“You want a little romp before I go?” he asks with a jovial smile.

“What?” she asks, her face turning beat red.

He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head. “Just being humorous,” he replies hearing the confusion in his own voice.

“If you lose the sword in battle or someone tries to steal it, call its name twice in your head,” she says and reaches out with her hand.

He places the hilt of the sword into her hand. He sees her grasp it lightly.

“Now,” she says.

Undefeated, undefeated he thinks. The sword is suddenly in his hand.

“Ride safe, Sir Oliver,” she says with a sparkle in her eyes.

He steps forward for an embrace and kiss but she turns away and marches back to the others.

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Swords with Souls: Peering Into the Giant’s Maw (Sir Oliver) B68

Swords with Souls

A Medieval Fantasy Fiction Story

(Adult Content)

By Dan Watt

(Author of BARD series)

Cover by Darren Joy

(Author of the Plagueborn series)

Peering Into The Giant’s Maw

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“I don’t know where she comes from but it isn’t here,” Ellis says while peering all around. “And Sir Olaf was a prince in the far north who tried to usurp his older brother’s claim to their elderly father’s kingdom.”

Is that Sir Olaf’s plan? To take over Damp Wind then return home with an army? Sir Olaf has only shown contempt towards quarter moons, dwarves, and giants. Worse, he has no respect for the land and believes the faie are a hoax. He needs to get back to his fiefdom and discuss the possibility with his father and brothers, and Sir Afamefuna. But first he wants to find out how many rows of teeth Jedreck has.

As they walk back to the Sword Maker’s workshop, they keep their talk civil and discuss what kind of fish might be caught in the river.

On their return he sees the hunchback pulling in a fish from a pole he must have borrowed from the Sword Maker. The smell of cooking fish makes him salivate. Just up from the rock shore he sees the bearded lady cooking some skinned fish on a brass grill over a makeshift firepit. The others are sitting on a washed-up log.

He walks away from Ellis to check on the sword handle. His hand sticks for a moment but the thong is hardened enough not to come off. “Undefeated, Undefeated, Undefeated,” he whispers to the sword as Lara instructed him the night before. He swings the sword and tries different attack and parlaying movements. It’s a wonder to wield! He slides it through his belt and eats with the others as they wait for Lara, the Sword Maker, Haashir, and Jedreck to finish the second sword. It would seem Endellion is also a part of the sword making group, though he didn’t think she had a task.

When he finally sees them approaching, Lara looks drained, as does Haashir and Jedreck. Endellion’s expression is very different. It’s thoughtful.

He waits for Jedreck to eat and look more energized before asking, “What say we spar so I can test the mettle of this sword?” He twirls the sword as he speaks.

“If you mean to try it against the newest sword, it isn’t ready, nor is it meant for me,” the giant says standing up. “You’ll have to spar against Laura to test its mettle. But–,” Jedreck unsheathes his own sword. “Let’s see if your new sword is worth all the trouble to craft it.”

This close, the giant is truly daunting. Nearly twice his own height. And the sword he draws out isn’t from here. At first, he thinks it silver from its colour but it has a duller sheen. “Flat edge only,” he says standing up and stepping back. With an arrogant grin he bows without taking his eyes off Jedreck.

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