Children of Fury: Hellions Chapter 7. Casa De Las Canas

Children of Fury:Hellions
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Chapter 7. Casa de las Canas

Two women, shared the same icy stare. In four years, they had their indentured contracts extended against their will three times.

Now they both had an extra seven years on their service to the plantation.

They were the only women that did not suffer the forced marriage and children in the House of the Canes in the four years they had been in the service to the plantation.

Caoimhe Ni Maile MacRanald, from Campbell’s Town in Scotland was cousin to Fey Mac Boru O’Danu, the women grew up together as children, writing letters to each other when apart. They knew well enough they were no longer free in the first days of their servitude and they brought suffering unlike anything the men experienced before.

Then, the rape teams tried to move on them in the cabin they shared, to tame the women from the wilds of the emerald isle.

And it was failure that would echo for years. Now men feared the two women with blue-ice for eyes and fire for hair. These Scots women, one with an Irish name by marriage, held sway over all men on the plantation.

Garcia Parga, the Master of the Fields. The jefe de las cañas, would tremble at the thought of approaching the women and pass on a command from the owner of the estate.

Roberto de Las Planas owned and drove the daily trip to town in his covered coach, let Garcia to do the day-to-day work. except for the two women that he had bought at the slave-pens in Barbados, he had full confidence that all would be well.

The women, the first one called Fey.

Even after four years, he struggled with the name of the taller, slightly crazier one with the name of a harsh land.

“Keeva” He thought to himself. He tried to give her a Christian name, but the struggle for that in those early days was not worth the battle.

His memory of that time made him laugh and weep at the same time.

Unknown to anyone, his purchase of these two guardians of the house, they were more formidable than anyone would have suspected.

In the first day, he sent his best looking men in as their mates. Roberto even told the men to make sure the women would have children inside of them.

Over that long year, breeder teams went into the cabin where the women lived, fueled by wine and rum. But, then none of the muscular and brave men came out intact. 

His memory ached with the lessons of dealing with priestesses of the Drui

Powerful, muscular and brave, they all wept like children. Many holding vital parts of their anatomy, limped and breathless in agony.

He was positive that the larger redhead was guilty of some crime against the men who wept afterwards.

But to a man, the ones in most agony, identified the smaller woman as the roaring spirit that fought like a wild cat.

One man, who bled freely from his now broken nose, winced when he sat on the steps leading up the the main house, shook his head. Afraid for those who thought they would try to take the women against their will in that cabin of pain.

“Senior Garcia. I do not think there is enough rum on all the island to make me or any of the others to try to take them women against their will.” He said. The man, named Gawrhum by Roberto de las Planas. “These women will protect the house they are in. But I dare not hazard to try to mate them with anyone against their will.”

Garcia shook his head in disagreement.

“All women seek to have strong men.” He told Gawrhum.

“These women have more soul than ten men. They are far more than you think, they are both like demons when they fight.” The men watched another servant walk by holding a hand to his pants, in an attempt to stop the bleeding from his ruined flesh. “They have not chosen him, either. He is the strongest of us and has many children.”

Four men entered the cabin, sounds of shrieks like two demons emanated from the cabin.

One man almost made it out, before the smaller woman who claimed her name as Fey, flew out and grabbed the man by the hair and dragged him down as if she had a sheep to sheer.

He screamed for help as she pulled him back into the cabin by his mustache.

When the master of the house returned to his plantation, Garcia told him of how the smaller woman, as tall as many men, she beat on the servants as they were sent in. And how the taller woman with fists like a man knocked one to the ground and slammed his head in the door a dozen times.

“He will not work for a week, she has broken his face.” Garcia said.

Roberto held his face in his hands.

“What do we do?”

“Leave them be, use other means to keep them.” Garcia raised his eyebrows. “Find another way to enslave them, if you dare.”

Four years ago. News that spread of children that escaped. Released by the English fool Myngs had begun a new time of destruction against the empire.

Château du Soleil, owned by Frenchman Philippe Cornu, burned to the ground by servants under the command of the children pirates after he freed them like God’s Wrath against the population.

Cornu was slow to rebuild, and that allowed other plantations to expand, including this Casa de Las Canas. The only people who seemed to enjoy the news of such destruction were the Irish slaves. The women who he was successful to breed, he could force them to stay beyond the original contract that was imposed on them.

But the two that kept their pagan names?

No one dared cross them. They performed duties and ruled with an iron hand, the household was safe, clean and always ready for visitors.

The one thing that grated on Roberto’s soul, was their arcane observation of their old religion.

Now, he came from the harbor with news of from the crew of one ship. A new threat of the Caribbean was spoken of in fear-filled whispers. A small fleet of four pirate ships, one ship crewed with children.

The eyes of the Celtic woman glittered with the news.

“Senior Roberto.” She told him, the icy blue of her eyes chilled his soul. “You would do well to release all your servants. Should the child pirate come here.”

“Fey.” Caoimhe interrupted. “Nae speak of those bairns. Walk with me.”

Alone in a room, they spoke in their Gaelic language.

“Do not say you are related to any of them. You will be used to bait Keegan into a trap.”

“That is my son, he comes for all of us. I wish him safe, but Roberto should know what comes.”

“Ach! Keep your head down, cousin, stand with the other servants. We will leave together in time.” The larger woman admonished her older, smaller relative.

“Caoimhe, my son returns.” Fey smiled wide. “They all return.”

“They return for us.” Fey smiled wider still.

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Tired. But the muse is yelling.

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I would go to sleep, but I have been away from the computer for two days while i stood in for Papa Dash while Mama Dash had to go through Chemo.

Where once they had (still have for the time being) a ranch of some 540 acres, mostly desert, she is not going to return.  Her health precludes that from ever happening again. So he has returned to collect things such as pots, pans, sheets, clothes, etc.

But the six-hundred mile trip and he is tired ( Not only from his surgery, but worry about mom.) he does not want to make a round trip from Reno to the land of dust and a patch of earth where little exists but things that can (and will) hunt you. Big bitey, scratchy things on one side.  Venomous and deadly on another, and just plain ol’ huge horned things that fear nothing – including humans to round out the feeling of being surrounded.

He (Papa Dash) is totally off the grid, generates his own power and water.  Built a palatial house that is elevate above the surrounding land (Flash flood defense!)

But that said, he had no urge to try to make a huge trip to make for a three-hour tour of doctor appointment, chemotherapy session and following the bus around town. (Mama Dash is currently in a wheelchair for ease of transport)

So I went in his place.  While there, an 11-year-old sensed a disturbance in the force and sent me texts.  Both the 11-year-old and the 16-year-old archers I created pounced me when I knocked on the door at 9 O’clock at night.

Me, my bow, twenty-plus arrows and two girls went to the floor.  Lucky the arrows were in a quiver and stayed together. We stayed up to midnight talking and doing homework.

(I may have lost some “Crazy uncle” points by insisting homework be done before we talked of novels, and stories that have their names in it. but the homework is DONE. Dunno if it is right, but it’s done.)

So we stayed up, they whupped on me on xbox (I have no such animal in my home- only computers. As I type this, it is an 8 year old HP with one broken hinge, six rows (Horizontal) of dead pixels on the top of the screen and one column of >red-only< pixels on the right side.  The keys of a,s,e,c, n,k,l,i are obliterated.  The space key has a divot worn in one side.

that is my “video” machine. heh.  So, needless to say, when they headed off to bed finally (It was a >school< night! Mom gave special dispensation) at midnight, I settled down on the sofa about 1-2 AM.  (It rang 1 AM while I was making the bed, tried to figure out a smart-phone problem then turned lights out). The sofa I slept on, I’m longer than by a few inches. So my feet hang over the edge.

Not really a bad thing? But I have fears something will try to nibble on my toes.  So I don’t sleep well.

And another 200 miles worth of driving to come home.

I think I might go to bed “early” tonight. Family is already in bed, SO I might hit the sack at midnight instead of 2-3 am and get up at 7-ish.

In the meantime, I will try to catch up for a few days.  I will also attempt to get you more stories daily.

Hm… No. Maybe not. I would not want to overdose you.

How tired would you get of a crimson coiffed crazy uncle that tells stories? If he happened to tell four different tales every day? Hmm…

 

We shall see.  I struggle with 2 a day. AND!

 

NaNoWriMo is coming baby! Woot! Then I will be gonzo!

Hang with me!

Your favorite future best selling author.

Dash

Married by Mistake Chapter 18. Frantic Flight

MbM
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Chapter 18. Frantic Flight

“Hello,” The woman behind the counter said as Kaylee walked in. “You shouldn’t come in that way. Just so’s you know, that is access to the airplanes only. It is dangerous to cross that way and if the security were to catch you, they are a serious pain in the neck. They can arrest you or make you walk around.”

“Yeah, I have had a run-in with one on the way over here from the Pacific Wizard across the way.” She had learned that sometimes the dropping of the name would open doors for her in some cases. “So I just ran across.”

“Oh! You’re Kaylee .” The counter-woman did not make it a question. ”I just received a call from a limo company in Sacramento that you needed a flight. I must say, that was a surprise to hear about Tom being married.”

“I thought I was meeting a driver here? And… We are not supposed to be married, it was one of those things that happened when drinking. We are getting annulled in a few days.” She laughed as she said it. “We are just good friends that partied too much and did a bit of a dare game that went out of control.”

“Of course.” Counter-Woman said it in a way that it was something she could not quite swallow. “Considering who it is for and that the flight is an emergency need, our only wait is the crew. No on the driver, I have a plane that is ready to depart when you are.”

From The back room, walked a muscular, petite woman with more stripes on her sleeve than anyone else Kaylee had seen.

“My bird ready for flight?” The pilot asked Counter-Woman. “Fueled and serviced?”

“Yes ma’am.” Counter-Woman seemed to shrink a little. Even if the Captain was smaller than she was, the Captain carried the air of unquestioned authority with her.

“What is the ETA of my right seat?” The Captain said in a matter-of-fact way that she expected an immediate answer. “We leave as soon as they arrive.”

“Your first officer will be Rome Oldman today. He is driving time from his home. He called as he pulled out of the garage of his house.”

“Thank you, advise me when he arrives, leave when he walks in. We have a bonus for getting our VIP to destination in less than an hour.” The Captain looked at the clock. “We are going to push the envelope. Where is my VIP?”

“Right behind you.” The flight agent said.

“Oh. Hello.” The Captain extended her hand in a business like handshake. “I’m Captain R. M. Watson. We will be flying as soon as possible. I’ll walk you to my aircraft.”

As they walked through the door, the Captain continued talking as if she was giving a report. “Follow me, please, let’s step on board while I wait for my right seat driver. I received a call from Lettie Nesmith of the Discrete Limo service in Sacramento, Tom’s been in an accident and I’m hired to fly you to Hayward Executive and have you there to meet her limo at the top of the hour. I trust you packed light, you can store your carry-on where the signs indicate there and there.”

“Yes, I packed light, I brought nothing except my purse.”

“Perfect.” Captain Watson said. “Take a seat and settle in, you don’t need to use the seatbelt just yet and I am going to finish my pre-flight checks.”

Kaylee settled in to the closest seat, someone placed the seat belts for convenience to clip on and she did not wait for instruction to do so. She was impatient to fly out and arrive at the airport in the north and the snap of the clip satisfied her need for action. Kaylee could not recall the name of her destination, other than Lettie had set everything up and she wished they were already in the air when she heard Captain Watson’s voice raise while she verbally mauled her copilot.

“DAMMIT ROME! Stopping for a foo-foo coffee on a mission is not acceptable, we’re scheduled to arrive at our destination in fifty-minutes. We are going to push the envelope as it is.”

Kaylee could hear a male voice asking if the package had arrived.

“Package”? She was a package, not a passenger.

“The package is Thomas Harte’s wife.”

“Bullcrap, he’s not married. We would have heard about that.”

“Let’s go, we can talk on the way.”

“No way Mister Harte’s married.” Rome said as he stepped into the sleek jet. “Oh! Hello. You are a passenger, not a package. I’m Captain Oldman, I’ll be your co-captain in the right seat next to Captain Watson.”

“I’m Kaylee , Tom’s wife. Tom’s has had some kind of an accident and is in the hospital in San Francisco.”

“What happened to Mr. Harte?”

“I don’t know, something with his hand. Lettie, the owner of the limousine company called me and told me that he cut off his hand.”

“Oh no.” Captain Watson said, showing emotion for the first time. “Okay Missus Harte, strapped in? Good, hang on, we are pushing the limits of this jet. Our maximum rated speed is mach zero point eight-one, we will be doing all that.”

Moments later, the business jet taxied out to the runway and lined up. Kaylee could not hear what the pilots were saying, but moments later, it was as if someone pulled a trigger and shot them out of a gun, the chartered jet accelerated faster than either the Pacific Wizard or the Flying Sea Dragon. The wheels came off the ground quickly and it seemed as if the diminutive jet sat back on its tail and climbed steeply into the sky. This was a race car compared to Tom’s sky-yacht.

As the ground fell away, Captain Watson turned and spoke loudly for Kaylee to hear.

“Missus Harte, you have a phone call. The phone is on the wall next to you on a magnet mount so you just need to push the gold button next to it.”

“Thank you.” Kaylee said loudly back. Captain Watson nodded and turned back to her guidance of the winged missile as it banked and headed to a northerly course.

“Hello?”

“Kaylee ! You made it, good. I have Kaikane, one of our newest drivers waiting for you. He’s a tall Hawaiian and is well-trained. He will drive you to the California Pacific Medical Center.” It was Lettie, her voice was uniquely embedded in Kaylee’s memory these days.

“The hospital will tell me nothing of Tom’s injury, but the rumor has it that he was carrying a tv out of the plane when he fell. The tv landed on his arm and broke, the glass cut him up.”

“Lettie?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Are you like Tom’s personal assistant or something?”

“Oh heck no, he can’t afford me. But we are good friends, and he is one of my best customers. Probably the best customer we have. All my family thinks the world of him.”

“But how do you spend his money like the chartered plane?”

“Get-Jet, the company that owns the plane you are on, also thinks highly of Tom. I know the company president and I just gave him a call. It seems weird, but we are all pretty friendly, so we watch out for each other. Tom has had a hand in getting more than a few of us in business, so we all owe him.”

“Wow. You are all friends and do this for each other?”

“Kaylee, Tom’s a tremendous person who spends far too much time alone. Even a philanthropist needs to have friends, even if he doesn’t think he does.”

“Lettie, I don’t know him like you do.”

“You will learn about him.” She could almost hear Lettie smile at the other end of the phone. ”He is someone who had his heart torn out and his soul shattered at one time. I don’t know his history except for what he has told me. But I know what he is like now. When we started the company, we had one limousine, he contracted and invested with us and allowed us to buy our next two limo’s in less than a year. We’ll buy out his investment in eighteen months. Not that we want to distance our company from him, but we, my family and me, we want the company to ourselves.”

“Understandable.”

“You have Tom.” Lettie said softly. ”Kaylee . Keep him. Like it or not I’ll put some pressure on you. He is going to self-destruct if he has no muse to show the world he builds.”

“Lettie, you are a meddler.”

“Yes, I always have been, according to my sister.” Lettie laughed. “I’m not proud of it, but I will always do what is right.”

“Everyone’s mother?” Kaylee asked with a laugh.

“Hah! Yeah, but I can’t have my own kids. So I adopt everyone.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Oh no, not that there is anything wrong. I don’t date men.” Lettie laughed. “You’re a good person, too. Compassionate. You match Tom’s spirit, you both are like eagles. You fly together in your souls.”

“I’m not as good as you would think.”

“Well, don’t doubt yourself. You have what it takes.” Then Lettie broke the connection and Kaylee put the phone back in its cradle.

Moments passed while Kaylee looked out the window watching the green of the long state pass by.

*Do I have what it takes to fill the shoes of a wife? The annulment, that’s my goal.*

Then again. There was something about how people stood up to help Tom.

*Maybe.* She pulled at some lint on her shirt. *Maybe I’m looking at this all wrong.*

lunch of crushed fire.

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So far, I am convinced the world of the kitchen today is trying to perform some kind of twisted sense of humor.

In making a sandwich, A touch of mayonnaise, havarti cheese, mushrooms, sliced crimini mushrooms. Then powdered garlic, and a sprinkle of crushed red chili pepper.

Well, that was the plan. It all went well until the chili-pepper.

The dry pepper in a jar just takes a light shake. Instead of a pinch? I probably put two-tablespoons on the sandwich.

UGH!  Shake it off- carefully. And I ate it down anyway.  THIS was a sinus-clearing event.

and now, I know for sure it is not an anxiety/panic attack, but my tummy is asking me “WTF did you swallow? A bbq ember? Wow!”

Ugh, Refusal to back down, hard-headed “I refuse to let it ruin my meal.” attitude.

So now I sit here perspiring more than if I just sat in the sun after a hot shower.

To quote a famous cat. Pffttthhp.

I can even fail at making a lunch.

But I did finish making the frozen dog-treats.  Greek Yogurt, (Local “raw”) honey, banana, peanut butter that are now in the freezer. I just tried really hard to make a mess. One of the containers had a hole in it from a dog-tooth, so it leaked all over the counter. *Sigh* but that was the only fail. Messy enough. At least when breaking up larger frozen “Cubes” of the dog treat, I didn’t slice a finger.

Not that I didn’t try. heh.

I did get a half-dozen shots in with the bow, hit the milk-cap twice. I’m trying to get focused again.

On a related “Focused” note. Keep an eye on this (and a few others! PoffPublishing and Rarity for two.). blog for announcements of an anthology of Horror scheduled now for (NO later than) 1 October 2016.  Originally scheduled for 2015, but all of us have fallen behind and with my own rough patch coming up (Mama Dash with Multiple Myeloma- a bone cancer and Sister Sledgehammer [the “Dash it ALL” attitude. Do not @#$! with her, she will hurt you.] with hardware being taken out of her body to the tune of about a half-pound of steel. PLUS a discovery that the previous surgeries failed to reattach a TFL muscle back to the hip.  Papa Dash trying to crash and burn in front of the nurses the day of his surgery. ) I don’t see me doing much in a full-fledged assembly of a story, even if we have a team of us authors.

Speaking of which?

Anyone who wants to be part of an anthology of a horror novel scheduled for a Halloween 2016 season release.  We have some openings. We are shooting for a 50-60,000 word novel. No more than 100k words total. At that point, our short-story size begin to shrink.

So, shoot me a note. We can chat.

Dash

Assistant cook and chief bottle washer.

Oh and just promoted from journeyman baiter to master. So all is good there. (think about it and you’re allowed to giggle)

“Outpatient” Surgery

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Do I believe it? There should be “Truth in advertising” rules for some things that the good doctors do.

Outpatient surgery should be relabeled Almost Outpatient Surgery.  After a 4 hour outpatient surgery.

“In and out.” Yeah?

Okay, FOUR days later, we are still looking forward to being discharged. Papa Dash has his history of a thrill, where they started yelling “Code Blue!”.

Sister is due into the hospital for surgery tomorrow… ALSO “Outpatient”. Do I stay?  Hang out and see if she ends up in the hospital for a few nights? Support the brother-in-law with THREE invalids, and 3 children? (Mama Dash is not doing well, either with a wrenched back.)

We’ll see.  I am at their disposal. After I post this, I will write some more fiction.

Papa Dash is feeling spunky, walking around with his IV pole, hitting the bathroom hourly.  His kidneys have kicked in full force.

To the MD that figured out that the “Bleeders” that were causing some problems with a bloody mess every hour or so, thank you, the proper idea at the moment stopped all the leaks.

Papa Dash, his dire thirst has come to an end, chapped lips, parched mouth.  With Mama Dash’s wrenched back, a poor reaction to narcotics the twenty-four hours before and he did not eat or drink much if anything before he had to fast. PD went into surgery extra dehydrated, then all the excessive bleeding drained him some more. (IV Replacement fluids to blood are not a 1:1 ratio)

Then tonight, they(Nurses) got tired of my talking with Papa Dash after visiting hours and booted me out. XD Well, he is hard of hearing so my use of the “Inside voice” doesn’t work.

Anyhow.  Back to the task of writing.

Well, not a task, the thrill of writing. It is something I like to do. 🙂

Hope you do, too.

Children of Fury: Hellions Chapter 7. Captain’s Log

Children of Fury:Hellions
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7. Captain’s Log

The young man sat on the overturned bucket with a quill in one hand, a book in his lap. He leaned in his favorite corner, eschewing the captain’s chair at the desk.

The Blackfish was making way nicely, and his view of the ocean from the stern of the ship made his soul feel free with the expansive view when the storm doors were open.

His long crimson hair, cut above his ears months before, now hung down past his ear lobes, dipped the tip of the quill in the jar of ink and put the blackened tip to the parchment.

“Captain’s Personal Log:

This is the first voyage of the Blackfish, and my father follows in the Fearg. A sister ship to this one. We have come here to this spot from a journey that started years ago.

Nearly half my life.

A summer day when my father went out with a ship that he had built. He was gone when the English came and destroyed my village.

I saw my seanathair lay on the ground with a bolt from his manubalista jutting out of his chest and the soldiers that beat my mam into the dirt until she stopped moving. In those days, I thought she was dead.

I woke up on a slave-cart, I still carry the scar, hidden by my hair, where the soldier hit me.

When I came home, I found that my mam, taken by the English, was in the islands where Captain Christopher Myngs freed myself and my friends.

I found when I returned to my father in the Virgina lands of a bay they called Irishtown. A backwater behind a Dutch settlement.

I sit in command of this new ship, a crew of twenty and one hundred of the old crew. Only twelve adults serve on board. The older’s follow us,  in the ship of my father’s design.

We return in force, with my old friends Anna God-Wants and Jacquotte Delahaye to find my mother, somewhere on the islands of the Caribs.

I will not rest until I find my mother’s fate and return her home, if I can.

I cannot watch my father walk as a man alone any longer, he weeps at night for the life stolen from him, he believes I do not see. But he is my father, I hear him at night, I see his eyes. The strain shows on his face.

This is not tolerable on a personal level.

My friends all have parents, brothers and sisters all still missing and we will return to collect them.

The Blackfish and the other ships can carry twice more than the crew who man them. Plus my plan will be to take ships on our return home.

Empires will tremble at the thought of our rescue. No navy will prevail against us. We have new bronze cannon built by the one my father called Francois Buile. He showed us that the ranges of the nine-pounders are near double of our last guns.

Granuaile has turned carriages of the guns into inventions of her own design. Adult men have learned to keep their distance from her.

My only pleasure around her, she has stopped socking me in the shoulder. My bruise is almost healed, but any man who hits me there now, will have a surprise. Unless he has hands of stone, I would not notice it.”

The ginger-haired youth rubbed his shoulder and laughed at his own humor. Looking out over the water, the old melancholy chased away the smile.

Putting the quill into the bottle, he stood up and walked to the expensive glass window. An artisan, commissioned by the blacksmiths, made three cut-glass letters to remind a woman’s child of her name.

“Fey” in small colored cut-glass gems sparkled in the sun, it burned in his soul to see it.

Tracing his fingers over the inlay, the old anger rose again. He would get her back. They meant it as a gift to calm a soul, instead, it was a fan that increased the rage in his heart.

Sitting again, he picked the quill out of the bottle and tapped the drop off against the mouth of the blown-glass bottle of ink and put it to the expensive vellum in his personal journal.

Turning the page, he wrote at the top of the page:

Captain’s Personal log of Keegan O’Danu

I miss her, I can remember my mam’s eyes and her laugh. I was only nine-summers old when we were taken. I will find her and bring her back, if only for my athair. A son should never see a father broken. Slavery should never be a market and I will free anyone that is in service against their will that I find, so long as I draw a breath. Slave ships will be my prey, anyone who flies the flag of empire will strike colors on my approach.

The Pirate Kingdom of the Sea will hold sway. Free people will embrace the name.

Everywhere they use the label pirate as a pejorative, I will embrace it as freedom.

Until my Mam is home, I will walk the decks and sail the seas until I am too old to chew my food.

Many years ago, to me.

My máthair was taken.

The English declared war on our village.

Today, I return to get her back. The Spanish, English and any who strike with the might of an empire, just because they can, I will make tremble with fear to sail these waters with their flags flying.

My father and his crew accompany us in thinking they protect the children.

We are the seeds of crimes that the Spanish, English, Dutch have sown.

It us up to the children to protect the fathers.

I will continue to use my war-name given to me by the Quartermaster of the Marston Moor.

A member since the first tour on Grampus she had no fear of anyone, Beth Angelcries stepped through the door.

“Keegan, your Da’ is pulling up along side and using the speaking-trumpet that Nial the smith made.”

Nodding, the captain of the Blackfish looked up into the hazel eyes of the girl who had shown such fury when they made their way home, causing Keegan to redefine the term in his mind.

Looking down, he finished his entry.

With the support of Anna Marie and Jacquotte we will stop at the harbor of Germantown and meet with those children who stayed behind and were adopted when we left their village last year for the Chesapeake.

The adults in that town invited us to return when we wished. It is something I do wish to do, there is a debt of help I owe to the families there.

Setting down his quill, the youngest captain in any fleet walked to talk with his personal hero.

Their next port of call: Germantown.

Children of Fury: Hellions Prologue

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Children of fury hellions 3 October 2014

Prologue

Captain Henry Willim knelt on what was left of the deck.

“FIRE!” The words caught in his throat as he choked from the smoke of his burning ship.

“Captain!” The quartermaster Whyte yelled, “Captain! We have no standing gunners! The ship is lost, we need to strike our colors.”

“NOT MY SHIP!” Captain Willim stood to the swivel deck gun and tried to fire the small cannon, looking about, he picked up a burning splinter of his ship and put it to the touch-hole of the one pounder.

It was his last action in this world as he disintegrated into torn flesh and red mist when he was struck by chain-shot in that moment. The heavy iron ball and linked-chain tore through his body at nearly the speed of sound.

The captain’s torso and left arm bounced along the deck stopping at the feet of the quartermaster, his life’s blood still spurting out of his lower torso from the beating heart that did not know it was dead, yet.

The look on the captains face was one of surprise and it would stay with the quartermaster for the rest of his life.

In a hysterical moment, the quartermaster saw the captain’s legs leaning against the shattered rail before collapsing onto the deck that would give him nightmares.

The aggressor ship threw hooks for boarding the larger warship, Worchester.

The quartermaster, Archibald Whyte, knew, more than the deceased Captain did, they were beaten, more than just from watching a child with a boarding ax cut down their colors,

He knew it, the moment he saw the name on the stern of the opposing ship as it hove close.

The name of the ship, whispered by the English navy sailors in quiet corners of pubs and with well deserved fear.

Fear of children that were more adult than any man, who could handle an ax or cutlass better than any swordsman with a holy rage in their hearts and souls.

Of a ship named after the swimming killer-king of the sea.

Blackfish Name image-cropped to 486x160

2 Seconds… T-Minus 15 Seconds

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T-Minus 15 Seconds

 

“Next time we come, let’s stay the night at the village?” Lulu asked. Russell knew the place she was referring to. A bed and breakfast house with a claw-footed tub in the room. A huge fireplace with wood stacked by the workers and an expansive view of the lake.

A hot tub on the balcony to watch the sunset over the crest of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. It was the perfect spot to spend time away and to themselves.

The very thought of it made him smile.

In space, photons were leaving the orbit of Venus behind and approaching the orbit of the moon. A this distance, the moon would be barely more than a bright spot on the edge of the Earth’s blue disk,  the shape and distance became clear as the seconds ticked by.

Four-hundred meters ahead, a quarter-mile away, Lucy Sprecks, irritated and frustrated with the traffic, moved her right foot off the brake, moving it to the gas pedal, while doing the trick that her husband showed her years before, to use the left foot on the brake, letting her have a quicker dash if she needed.

Lucy had picked up a few tricks over the years, she was an expert driver, no matter what the Motor Vehicle Nazi’s said. She had more years driving than the testers had been on this earth. She was not about to listen to the young’uns about changes in rules that had worked for years.

Seat belts! Heaven’s sakes. She never had seat belts as a child and she lived. But now, even that kindly State Patrolman who talked to her at length, even if it seemed that he and his girlfriend partner camped out at the corner down from her gated driveway. He would pull her over before she even got to the stop sign down at the end of the street and lecture her.

Once again, she would put it on at his goading. Even the cute little girl who carried more equipment than Lucy felt the officer needed, lectured her on a few occasions when her man-partner was not there.

“Are you two married?” Lucy asked once, “You should be, you make a cute couple.” She added when the young lady answered “No.”

One late afternoon after Lucy got another lecture from Officer Karen, Lucy sat at the stop sign an extra hundred feet down the street with the police car right behind her when a man from the place she had fled long ago with Joshua after the death of her children, had a seizure at the wheel while coming to the intersection that Lucy waited at.

Drifting over the line, the pickup truck with the big camper on the back went through the intersection without slowing down and hit Lucy head-on as she sat still.

With air-bags and seatbelts, Lucy walked away from collision with nothing more than a skinned nose.

And she walked quickly! The smoke from the airbags made her think that the car was on fire, her knees hurt, but she would have walked barefoot over chilren’s toy blocks rather than to burn to death.

Ever since that day, she had panic reactions when something came at her from any direction. She even became unable to watch the news when it showed car crashes on the TV.

Ten times the orbit of the moon away, photons closed the distance to the earth and moon had separated into two points of light, the brightest points at this distance, other than the sun that was falling behind.

On the back of a rumbling Harley-Davidson, Lulu talked into the microphone of plans with the children and a weekend on the lake with the entire family as they cruised along.

A spluttering sound and a complaint from Russell interrupted Lulu, Russell suffered a direct hit by a butterfly to his shoulder that spread to his chest and cheek. He would need a shower.

Lulu offered to help, after the children when to bed, the tip of her finger playing with the back of his neck, below the helmet.

Nevada Douglas County Fire Department Station 2315, Engineer Hank Kettleman stood up and looked at the Captain.

“That will not leak again this summer. All new parts.” Hank smiled, pulling off nitrile gloves and throwing them into the can in the corner.

Captain Thomas nodded and looked down the drive as it opened out on to the highway, the sounds of a deep rumble, like an earthquake, but constant and growing louder.

A group of motorcycles, Robert Thomas owned his fair share of iron horses and would never miss an opportunity to watch a club ride by.

As Bob watched the highway, he noted a late-model Mercedes sitting to the right of the fog-line with its turn signal on, but it was not in a turning lane, nor was there an intersection.

Bob had seen this before, a triple-fatality accident a few years before, teenagers in an old VW Bus pulled an illegal U-turn in the highway after a missed corner, the broad-side impact from the delivery truck split the teen’s car in half, spilling bodies out on to the pavement.

Two died at the scene, and the third, the driver, gave up and willed himself to death a few days later. No amount of medicine would save the soul who felt responsible for the death of his own brother and girlfriend.

The length of a football field away, Russell and Lulu enjoyed their conversation while they drove the hour’s ride home with plans about dinner and a shower later.

It was Saturday night, after all!

2 Seconds… T-Minus 60 Seconds

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T-Minus 60 Seconds

Lucy was getting impatient, traffic lined up and unbroken for a few minutes — too many. She was getting impatient and irritable. Not for the first time she swore at the numbers of people around the lake that Joshua loved, and ultimately died in while fishing. She longed for the days where you could drive for an hour and not see a single soul.

A break in the traffic in the opposite direction showed itself. Lucy was going to take it. Coming at her from in front, she timed the arrival of no cars in the direction she wanted to go.

Space – Photons crossed the orbit of Venus, speeding on the way to Earth. Many of the photons would be absorbed by dust, debris and even reflected away by satellites before entering into the atmosphere of the only planet to have been absolute in the discovery of life on its surface.

One-thousand one-hundred meters away from Lucy and her new Mercedes that all the women were jealous of, Russell and Lulu laughed over the intercom when she slid her hands under his jacket, running her hands over the chest she knew so well and always enjoyed her husband’s body and any chance she could touch him, she would.

Especially if it was an inappropriate time and place, she enjoyed his reactions ever the more.

As a wife, she would walk arm in arm with her husband, often with her hand in his back pocket just so she could squeeze anytime her hand had a need.

As a mother, she loved her children more than life itself. Lulu was known to run over rattlesnakes with her truck if there were any in the areas of the hundred-acre desert backyard that served as the children’s playground.

Russell had his own fun with the girl of the dark eyes and black hair that moved in with him, taking his last name and giving him children that he loved most in this world.

Even more than his big v-twin motorcycle that he bought before he married Lulu. It was the ride, he felt, that Lulu fell in love with him for.

Lulu had other ideas, mostly on how Russell’s jeans fit around his hips.

But what ever the causes of the two soul mates to find each other, neighbors and family knew it was a love affair of legends.

Just a thousand yards ahead, LucyMay clenched her teeth in frustration, she hated traffic. Unwilling to admit that driving was becoming more difficult for her, she would argue with everyone and anyone over the subject that her mind was as acute as it ever was. Which was true, but her body suffered from greatly diminished reflexes.

It was times like this that she never thought about the size and speed of oncoming traffic. She felt that her car was the speediest and safest on the road for a hundred miles in any direction.

An intersection on the highway nearly nine-hundred yards away, a dozen Harley-Davidson motorcycles waited to turn and merge with the flow of traffic. Riders waved at the couple and Russell waved back in the common show of solidarity of two-wheeled riders have everywhere.

Destiny awaited the players who were in play.

In space, from the photon point of view, the earth separated from a blueish speck to two specks of the moon and earth.

Time: T-Minus 35 Seconds.

2 Seconds… T-Minus 14,400 Seconds

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T-Minus 14,400 seconds

 

One summers day, on his beloved Harley-Davidson, Mister and Missus Fletcher enjoyed the weather of the midsummer’s offering. The neighbors watched the children as they spent their anniversary on the back of an iron horse and freedom in their hearts.

At the dwarf-yellow star that human now call Sol, photon packets that spent the last thousand-centuries in the random walk from the core of the sun had now lost much of their energies.

Frequencies, randomized now into what had become known as visible light began to move faster as the compressed and glowing hot gasses reduced to a density to allow the photons to reach speeds commonly associated with light. Ten percent, then twenty, fifty-percent of the speed of light moves in a vacuum, the EM radiation began to move.

T-minus 10,800 seconds.

On earth, the eighty-cubic inch V-twin engine rumbled in good tune. A header pipe that Russell had routed into a high-efficiency muffler improved the fuel consumption while giving more power— and less noise— was the song of freedom for the couple that rode on the full-dressed motorcycle.

The sounds of the wind, the intercom they used to talk with while wearing their helmets. All the details that represented their closeness.

It also gave Lulu, the beautiful wife, teacher and mother, a titan in a tiny body, reason to hold on to the man that she called “Husband”.

Not that she ever needed a reason to hold him close, it was just a perk of riding on the back of their favorite steed.

The midnight-blue of the paint glittered with faint scratches that were long earned with thousands of laps around the blue of the mountain lake.

Russell once estimated they had driven around the earth’s circumference, just on the mountain roads that circumnavigated the twenty-two mile long lake. It was a trip the happy-camper couple made often. Camping along the shores of the lake in the many campgrounds maintained by the Federal and State Agencies.

The sky was blue with broken clouds, the chill of the mountain air tickled the souls of the couple that escaped the daily grind and pain of the wife-come-teacher and the business-creator and owner husband that was their work week.

Winding their way through the forest, following the black strip of asphalt and the dashed lines, Russell told a joke about a mason and his union, but the mason got stonewalled.

Lulu laughed into the intercom like a dutiful wife, but rolled her eyes and shook her head at the stupid joke.

Lunch at their favorite stop, “Ian’s”, seafood grilled over an open fire, the perfect break for the mid-day meal, sitting on a balcony, overlooking lake waters so clear, that it could give cause for acrophobia- a fear of heights, looking down through the water to the bottom of the jewel of the Sierra Nevada.

An hour and a quarter of fresh bread, fish, grilled red baby potatoes and wine by Ian Mehretu, the owner and cook in the tiny, lakeside eatery.

Russell paid the bill and the two walked out of the restaurant holding hands as they headed to where Harrison the Hog waited for them with a machine’s patience.

Helmets on, the intercom plugged in, the big engine rumbled to life and the day held fewer clouds in the sky as they merged into traffic of the high-mountain community main road.

They had a long trip ahead of them to their favorite mountain lookout and then back home.

Time was T-Minus 6,300 seconds.

2 Seconds… T-Minus 2,775,168,000 Seconds

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T-Minus 2,775,168,000 Seconds

 

LucilleMay Adler born to George and Ethel grew up in Chicago on the poorest side of town. George was a warehouseman and had never had much time for his family. A heavy drinker by the time that Lucy was in her mid-teens. He died when he drove into a tree on his way home. Ejected from the overturning car, the intoxicated father struck his head on the hard ground and never woke from his injuries.

Lucy and her mother moved to California on suggestion of her aunt Lewellyn where she became involved with a young man who went to school. He impressed Lucy with his clear blue eyes and aspirations. The young man often would take Lucy on rides in the country as they sat with picnics under his favorite trees along the Marin headlands.

Trying his hand at farming, Joshua Sprecks was a failure. Buying the land around the hills in the southern bay area, they fought and struggled for years until a builder spoke with them about selling land so a home could be built.

Pausing to think, Joshua refused the offer. Instead, he spoke with an employee who helped him and in turn they looked into building a few houses which sold quickly.

In the years that followed, Joshua found he had talents in the business of home and subdivision design. With a good relationship with the local inspectors, Joshua Sprecks made his life comfortable for his growing family. His plans for schools that the children would attend were set as father blazed the trail by going back to school himself, becoming an architect of some renown in the area.

Shortly after the first of Lucy’s four children were born. Lucy developed an addiction to Valium, a common problem in the early years of the drug. Most of the women in her church were very much addicted to the Valium family of medications, and an active trade developed within the group as the hoarders would sell among the women that needed it at the moment.

One springtime afternoon, everyone had arrived at home from school and after finishing chores. The day was warm and beautiful and a wonderful time for the young. Joshua Junior promised he would be careful, Lucy’s smiled and allowed her eldest son to take the family car and drive his younger brother and two sisters to the store for sodas. Joshua Junior was always very careful at the wheel of the car, Lucy was always careful to teach him of his responsibilities. Teachings that he took to heart, always.

Alas the drunk driver that collided with them had no such guidance.

The light in Lucy’s eyes dimmed as she never quite recovered burying four of her five children. The only survivor of the accident that took the lives of all the children was the youngest who had to stay home to do homework.

Josh Sr. took the next offer of his three-hundred acre ranch and bought land in the Lake Tahoe area away from the metropolitan growing around their orchards. Houses built haphazardly without the plans that Joshua tried to include with his developments, and the effect was, to him, untenable.  

It was not fair to Joshua Sprecks, who had no wish to stay in the area where his children died at the hands of a man who paid only a month’s worth of salary in fines.

And the patriarch of his surviving family could not suffer living in the shadow of the four headstones that marked the graves of his children, moved to the mountains, never to return willingly to the lands of his shattered dreams.

United States Thanksgiving: Please be with family. In or out of US.

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In this time of the season, whether you are in the northern or southern hemisphere. take time sometime this week and give thanks for the family you have. So many lose a loved one, sometimes we don’t tell them– out of anger or oversight, or the most wrong thing.

We take it for granted.

Tell them. Hug them. Enjoy the family. It doesn’t matter if you are a New Zealand, Aussie, Yankee, Canuck, Russian, Chinese, Mongolian and any of the others I am too danged lazy to write out. Take your mom, dad, brother or sister, son or daughter and give thanks that they are in your life.

No borders need stand in the way of that thanks.

Have a good week folks. I am taking a few days away. You all might get ONE chapter, but I won’t promise for the next week.

 

Even the Bradach Ard Ri gets a week off sometimes.

 

 

Dragon Master University Chapter 18. Veil of Vale

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XVIII. The veil of Vale

Jona walked into the courtyard, Professor Vale was once again shifted his shape to a smaller dragon, basking in a shaft of sunlight that glistened off his ruby scales.

“Professor? I would like to ask a few things.” Jona asked, his head full of questions on what he had just seen. How much was history, how much was fiction and how much was truth.

“Yes, Jona, speak your mind.” The Old dragon looked at him with good humor, he liked Jona it pleased  the professor to help or answer any questions.

“Professor Koos was lecturing me on lore and law, gave me a view of some lore.” You were once human and had to change into a dragon to save your wife?”

Vale nodded, “Yes, no one bothers to ask me, but the one time that the historians did, they used the crystal to record what had happened. The lady with gray and red hair that assists me now and again?”

“Yes, professor, she is you wife?” Jona asked.

Professor Vale looked at Jona for a second and continued while clearing his throat, “Well, now we know you have attended “Obvious Recognition 101″ at one time or another, what I was going to say, she has spent many years looking for the single spell I used. Rumor has it that I cannot speak the spell due to magic, but the only magic was that I could not speak any human speech at first and by the time I was able to, the spell I thought I used was incorrect.” Vale sighed, “So now she uses her knowledge of magic to stay young as possible, she ages about one year for every one hundred.”

Jona stopped and thought for a moment. “The story I saw from the crystal showed you and her as a young couple.”

“Indeed,” Vale nodded, “We had not yet started a family, no children. In fact it took me years to learn how to change size, I can do a little shape change now, but I am always dragon.”

Doing the math at first, “The story then is very long ago.” Then adding, “You had children since then?”

Vale nodded “Yes, it was long before the current history, many years have passed. She was only twenty-two summers old and beautiful as a sunrise on a snowy day.” then nodding again, “We had a number of children that have had both qualities of the race of dragon and man. Kolo and Kola are both related to me, although many times removed, twenty-five generations or so.”

“My friend Kolo and her brother?” Jona asked

“Yes, not all dragons lay eggs, depending on the clans or branch of the family tree.” Nodded the Professor.

“Clans?”

“This is my break time,” the professor said, sitting up. “but as you want to learn, let’s go to the master room of the Garnet House. Climb aboard.” Vale said as he swelled in size, a four-winged dragon as he changed size, Jona climbed on his back into the saddle area– that was not fully developed as in the racer dragons, but then, Vale was a much older dragon and racing had not been a sport back then.

At the top of Professor’s aerie. There was stone tables of granite and soapstone of verdigris color, with a full view in all directions, Jona gaped at out the lead glass windows, mountainous peaks from all his view were magnificent.

“Dragons are family oriented, mothers are as protective as any human parent. Old stories of virgin sacrifices were simply overstated and elaborately told stories of rogue drakes that were just like any

other being on this earth with prejudices and hatred to others. Some were equal opportunity hate mongers. Ultimately, the councils of dragons gathered and the first peaceful meetings with humans happened.” Vale opened a very wide scroll as it lay over a wide table of intricately carved soapstone. “The first meetings you see marked here on the time line were with the Pirate High Council, perhaps the most free and dangerous group of humans to empire or govern.”

“Pirates? Robbers of the sea, correct?” Jona asked, he knew the stories of the seagoing raiders. “They come ashore, burn and pillage. I have had teachings of such things.”

Vale nodded, “In the most basic sense, they are barbarians and robbers, those are the ones you hear about that are the most unskilled at the bottom of the pirate food chain. They are not they pirates that were here. The pirates that put on the show are those that live outside of the government’s influence and do not pay taxes to an entity that gives diminishing returns. Instead, they donate funds, goods and services when they wish. This is outside of the control of government– another irksome thing for those that desire power above all. They call these men and women pirates as a result, it is easier to prosecute a ban on trading with the people.”

Vale continued, “These are the people in the early days the dragon councils met. It was the pirates that suggested a school, first for just dragons to learn, but then to bring forward a school for teaching the teachers. This is why you are here. A teacher must understand the relationship and be able to teach past the prejudices of both dragon and human. You will be a Master of dragon knowledge to dragons and humans. You will be a Dragon Master, but I digress, you must know what you ask.”

Jona nodded, lost in the history time line as it was laid out before him.

“Dragons live for a very long time, some say forever but that is not the case, they do age and become elderly, but the length of a dragon’s lifespan has not yet been firmly established. No deaths of natural causes as of yet, that have been recorded.’

Vale corrected himself “All but for one, not long after the first peaceful contact with humans there was a dragon named Koshenkpough, a fire dragon. He befriended a human orphan boy when his mother was a victim of a governments abuse of power. His father was a bookmaker and was never around. The child learned much from the dragon and was unable to ever speak his name properly and he nicknamed the dragon, who liked the name and has since been known as “Puff”. Puff was the first Dragon Master to a human, though they did not have the title at the time.”

Jona nodded, “I saw a column with the name of Puff on it. I wondered why such a strange name for a Dragon. So it was a nickname?”

“History is known for renaming people and dragons,” Vale nodded, “Places and events that did not reflect the real names at the time. Let’s continue. Dragons, and although I am one, I am human inside by thought and feeling, but after living as a dragon for so many years, I have learned a few things.” Vale smiled, “One of which as you know I can change size, but not quite shape or I’d be human in a heartbeat.” Vale chuckled. “It would make sitting by the fireplace with RedNova– that’s my wife’s name– Possible. Or go visit her father.”

“He is still alive?” Jona asked.

“Yeah, he is REALLY old.” Vale winked. “He is studying spells for all this time to break what I cast that day.”

“Wow, there is so much more to the world.” Jona was looking over the scroll and the time line that was drawn upon it.

“More than you know now, even.” Vale nodded. “Dragons have developed close ties with humans over the years. The biggest heartbreak that any of them have is that, although dragons live forever, humans do not. Remember Puff and his human friend, the boy grew up and left to live his human life in time, Puff returned to his cave.  Some say Puff was the boy’s mother who had been transfigured, somehow, like I have been. Others say that Puff changed his name and just disappeared into the crowds and might be among us today. We have never established what happened.”

“So if, say a human and dragon were married, they could raise a family?” Jona asked.

“With the right kind of healer and medicine, yes. It might be odd for both of them as the offspring are usually a blend of traits. The curiosity and inventive nature of the human side, the long life and learning capacity of the dragon, occasionally there are different results, some good, and some — well to say evil might be too harsh, but the outcome has been…” Vale paused, “Unfortunate.”

“What is this notation here about vampires and lycan?” Jona asked while reading small print on a time line.

“That, my young protegé, is for later studies. Just keep in mind, any mix of dragons and the other two is fraught with disaster. Already between lycan and vampire exists a war as the two are diametrically opposed.” Tracing his crimson colored hand down the page, ” Here, lists how clans of dragons exist. Some indicate live births, others the day they have had eggs hatch. No one is to say which is better, but smaller dragons tend to have live births and the laying of clutches of eggs seemingly is on the wane over the years. It seems to make a stronger bond to the parent-child relationship in the dragons.”

“How many clans are there?” Jona asked as he traced his finger over the parchment.

“How many clans are there in humans? No one knows.” Vale chuckled. “It has only the main course of history, this does not detail clans and the branches. That would be like trying to follow a drop of water in an ocean.”

“Why do humans hunt dragons?” Jona asked, “Seems that it would be better if the two races would work together.”

“It is the same way on both sides,” Professor Vale nodded grimly. “A few make it impossible for the many. That is why you are here at the school, to help survival of both.”

Jona tingled with the thought of that. A huge responsibility, but a lot to learn still.

“Thank you Professor, I have a lot to learn.”

“Homework, Jona, without it, your grades will not improve.”

“Yes, sir. And I need to practice with Eva on racing, we are working out in a full team race, four of us are doing the course today.”

“Good luck, Jona, do not fall off.” Vale smiled softly.

Children of Fury: Hellions Chapter 1. Latent Threat

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Chapter 1. Threat

Tongs and hammers, wood and copper, iron and wood, the ship took shape in the backwater of the great bay, hidden by the local geography, the ship grew in its lethal shape.

Knife edged, a keel that reflected the inspired fin of the largest porpoise in the world’s oceans. The Blackfish grew in shape and lethal purpose. Conn O’Danu paced as he directed the Irish carpenters to follow the measurements and drawings to the bitter-end of each page. There would be no gaps, no errors. Conn used green, live oak for building the new ship, stout construction to the extreme.

This pleased Conn, this oak was a resilient wood and made for the tightest construction ever envisioned.

In the course of the construction, the men and women adults felt motivation to build a ship like never before, the motivation  came from Keegan, who reassembled the crew of children that had returned home. Their mission, the small ones had decided, return to the islands in the south and rescue their friends, mothers, fathers and all their families that remained.

The cruelty of the Empires of the world had taught them how to sail and fight.

Now they would return. The 

Copper and iron, Diarmuid the Dubh and Nial Gabham, the two talented blacksmiths of the village, who had made connections to other artisans of metals and the powers of Hephaestus, forged with imagination the plates of copper they attached to the hull of the ship, that remained hidden in the back-waters of the bay.

Ideas from the boy who brought the children home, copper scales nailed on the bottom of the ship’s hull. Copper nails held the dinner-plate sized copper ellipses in place. Brass and bronze nails driven in measured distances by carpenters and craftsmen who followed what Keegan O’Danu and Dana, who the O’Danu’s had adopted as one of their own, showed where to drive the metal spikes into the wood.

Under the shade of a tree nearby, children gathered by ones and twos as word spread.

Mothers with fear building in their hearts, tried to pull these children who gathered in the clearing. Children, those that had been lost and then returned, and who still carried a fire in them that frightened most adults.

Such anger, taught by the Empires of the sea and this New World that they colonized. For the treasures, a life was worth less than the sweat it took to pull a knife from a sheath.

Father’s pulled on children who turned and stared at the patriarchs in the eye.

Words of denial, spoken of in angered whispers.

These were children who had learned a mission. Their first mission was to come home.

A new call to arms, flames of deep anger sparkled in youthful eyes. Confidence, that only the young had, and a fury from the devil himself at those who raided their villages.

The followers of Cromwell, the devil of all the crimes against this group of children that despised the soldiers in red and the Rump Parliament who followed after Pride’s Purge. The efforts of a few had instilled such anger in a whole people.

And the growing Empire angered two groups of people so far.

The Great Scots of the Highlands and the whole of the Hibernian isle.

The Governor of the colony could not know of the return of a crew of children on a ship that was like no other.

In time, despair would settle over the hearts of Governors and Ministers alike in future days as rumors of the hell-ship, Blackfish, that sailed the waters of the West Indies came to their ears.

But we get ahead of ourselves…

Dragon Master University Chapter 9. Tour of the University

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IX. Tour of the University

Jona’s mother gave him the lecture about behaving around pretty girls, especially around those that he had no idea what they really were.
“She is a dragon and probably older than all of us put together.” Aed laughed, “Still, she was pretty. I remember her when I first came. She went steady with the champion racer at the time. Most of us were in love with her.”
“Most of you boys,” Dearbhail interrupted, “were in love with her, she has no affect on females.”
Aed whispered to Jona when his mother stopped to talk to a professor and ask directions to the dorms and library.
“The girls are also affected, mostly as jealousy. Kolo is one of the most beautiful of her species, but they are all pretty. I dated one of her sisters, Soisal. We had a good time until I met your mother, then it was all history then.” Aed chuckled. “I loved your mum from the day I met her.”
“This way” She led her family to the dormitory area. Along the way, the red dragon Jona had seen before was basking in a shaft of sunlight, his size was smaller than Jona remembered, but they were in shadows and Jona had looked around.
“Professor.” Dearbhail said gently, “I would like you to meet Jona, my son. You remember Aed, my husband?”
The dragon opened an eye. Where many of the eyes of dragons were cat-like with slits, or like an owl’s that where wide and bright, taking in everything. This dragon had eyes like a human, deep blue, with the look of someone who has had seen and taught much, with a touch of sadness in his eyes.
But those sad eyes crinkled into a smile– as much as a dragon can smile.
“Why yes!” His voice sounded strangely like a cross between a human and a thunder-clap echoing backwards. “I remember you Aed! You had a knack for using hammers to make art out of metal. I still have the chain you made for me as an end of school present. A great treasure of my personal cache.”
Jona cringed slightly as the tusked face turned to him.
“You will be attending here then in the next cycle? You will like it, there is the renew festival in the autumn, where all the spirits of the year come to greet us. It becomes a trick or treat week of fun and spooks.” Winking at Jona as if it were a secret.
“We make it all month though. Always fun. We also have visiting wizards and witches now and again during that time.”
“I would like to attend here. My dad says you were once human?” Jona reached out and touched the nose dragon lightly.
“Yes, but one must recite the words and said exactly and with passion. I cannot repeat them as the same magic that made me as I am does not allow a dragon to speak such words of reversal. How I came to be like this was to save the most precious treasure I have ever had in my possession or held in my hands.” With a slow nod, the dragon finished his thought. “That treasure was, is and remains my best treasure, my wife. I will see you in class, Young Jona, you will be how dragons think and feel. And you can check with my scales anytime.”
Looking at Aed and Dearbhail, the big dragon took a deep breath. An intense look filled the eyes of the red-dragon.
“His touch is that of a healer, I have seen into his mind’s eye. Aed, Dearbhail, he has the soul of a teacher and a smiter, but most– he is a healer if we can get him past his play.”
“And do not stare so much at Kolo, she might think you like her.” The red dragon chuckled. The sound was if someone had struck a large drum. Then the old wizard dragon closed his eyes and sighed as the the pleasant feeling of the sun shining on his body and warming his scales.
They got a ride on a tram that rode on wheels of wrought iron, pulled by a young dragon that wore a sign on the side of one of his horns. It was in a language that Jona could not read.
“What does that say?” he asked his mother.
“Public service for failing class. All donations to this tram go to the university’s charity for delinquent dragons.” His mother read. “Not much has changed since we attended here. I wonder if they still make humans do the same thing?”
Aed shook his head and shrugged.
“I would’nt be surprised, I spent more than one school week pulling people haulers for not doing my work on time or getting caught in a bad situation. I always got dragons that wanted rides, too.”
“I never had to do that.” Dearbhail laughed lightly as she put her arms around her husband and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you for that, too. I would have hated to have pulled a wheeled cab for my friends when they were going out and I was doing penance.”
Jona looked at his mom “You were going to be punished?”
“No” Aed said, “I would not let that happen, so I took the blame.”
“I had to marry your father after that, he was such my hero, very gallant.” She blushed slightly and kissed Aed again, no longer the finger waving, loud voiced matriarch that shook the earth with her stomps, but looked more like a caught school girl.
“I hung all the boy’s underwear between the buildings. We raided their rooms when they were in the showers.”
“You took the blame for that?” Jona looked at his father incredulously.
“Got me the nickname of ‘Odd Aed’ for awhile. But it was worth it, they figured it out in time, but the debt had been paid.”
His small dragon woke and started crawling around the inside of his tunic and Jona wiggled around then complained loudly that the small creature just pulled out what little chest hair he had. Finally getting free, the small creature flew around in circles over his head before landing on the edge of the tram and watched the world go by.
“This happens often?” Jona asked
“Only with chosen ones. I was not chosen,” his father said. “Your grandfather had a run in with a dragon and a Dragon Master came to arbitrate, the result was the dragon apologized with the agreement I came here to study. One of the best agreements we ever did as a clan.”
Jona looked at his mum “What about you?” with a quirked look.
“I was chosen, I had a small dragon follow me home, my parents were always trying to kill it until a Dragon Master came and spoke with them. You have no idea how much of a dragon hater your Grandfather was. He resented it, your grandma— she secretly liked the idea I could save things that lived in and over the earth. But your grandpa, if he had the chance, he would hunt dragons to the ends of the earth without a thought.”
“Is that why we lived so far away from Grandpa and grandma?” Jona asked
“Yes, partly due to that, but also because he did not like your father much. Because I had met him here, your grandpa did not want to even talk to him.” His mother shook her head sadly. “But what he did not know was that your Grandma is also a Dragon Master. She has never told him.”
Once again, his life shook. Schools end, he was free and knew it all, now he found that all he learned in school— was how to learn.
The tram rumbled on, the farther they went, the larger the school looked. “Everything is school here?” he asked while looking out.
“Yes, last count I remember that they had almost forty- thousand students of all kinds. A large city. They will all live here, away from dragon hunters, kings that look to have a prize on the castle or a name as King Dragon Killer or some stupid thing.” Aed said unhappily. “The best part, however is that the dragon council pays for it all. Humans only get in if chosen, arbitrated or otherwise selected carefully. All dragons come here no matter what.”
“All dragons? Do they all live here?” Jona asked as they stopped in front of a very tall spire.
“OUT!” The dragon called in front, his voice was very small for his size, until Jona realized it was a girl dragon, and that he had a lot to learn of how to tell gender from male and female dragons. Except for Kolo, she still danced in his recent memory with the swish of the tail and move of her legs.
A slap on the back of his head again as his mother brought him back to the here and now.
“Jona, you need to look around. There are different dorms. Many are houses that have a brotherhood of dragon and masters. The girls have a sorority but can and do also belong to the fraternity of Dragon Masters. That is where the tattoo’s come from. Only those that achieve that status can have the never ending knot of dragons on their arms.” She reminded him.
A small dragon of a pale blue— white hue walked up to him. “I am Ramases, I will guide you around the dormitory, this is the house of the Frost Dragons, you may find that it is a bit cold in some area’s. But we study hard to keep warm. Do you like to ski?”
“Um, no.” Jona said as they mounted gilt stairs up to the upper floors. The slim dragon bounded on two legs while giving occasional flaps.
“I’m in my second year here, they have moved me into the guide status because my grades are so high. I already speak most human languages.” Ramases laughed as he stepped up the stairs.
Jona looked at the guide as the three Samhain’s followed, “Do all dragons come in different sizes or will he grow to be like some of the big ones that are flying outside?”
Aed shook his head “Most dragons are of adult size in one or two years. By the time they get here, they are done growing, after that, they just age. Like Kolo, she will never get any bigger– even though she looks like she might have gained a little weight.”
Dearbhail shook her head, “She has matured, the vamp.” Jona’s mother shook her head. ‟Dragon girls never seem to get dumpy. Look at Professor Olly. She looks as if she was still a bride when she got married. That was when I was a student here!” Jona’s mother sighed, “and she has four children!”
Aed leaned over, “That’s because you don’t have scale-armored boobs like they do.” And tried to kiss Dearbhail while Jona complained.
“Stop it dad! That’s just … ugh.” Jona walked further ahead rolling his eyes while Ramases laughed quietly.
The young dragon and the human boy began to talk as the parents laughed behind them at Jona’s discomfort.
“Parents.” Jona rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, I have troubles with mine, too. My dad is a desert dragon, mom is from the far north. They are always wrapping tails around each other— it’s gross. I have ten brothers and sisters, I’m the youngest.” Ramases said, “The smartest, too. I can’t get any bigger, I’m kind of the runt of the nest.”
“That must have been hard.” Jona said, “I have a friend that has a few bigger brothers. One brother captured a lúchorpáin and made it give them a bottle of youth. One drop would make you one year younger. “
“Oh very nice, they would have gotten rich off that!” Ramases smiled.
“Not really, they gave Boru ten drops and he was only nine! They made him minus one!”
Ramases laughed, “Pour kid!”
“He had to repeat basic school until the potion wore off the next spring.” Jona added, “I’m an only kid. I just have sprite here that is my dragon I guess.”
“Ooh, he is not yours— you are his, he chose you.” Ramases corrected him. “He looks to be an orphan, must have just hatched very close to you.”
Ramases snorted something, then growled. Sprite just looked at him a few times, then Ramases puckered up and whistled low with some clicking, the little dragon clicked back.
“Said he has spent the last two weeks alone, all the other eggs were smashed, no sign of mother. You are his mother now.”
“Here we are. These are sample rooms, no one lives in these, but it gives you an idea on what you might have available.” Opening the door, Ramases stepped back and let Jona step in. His parents just looked in.
“Do you not want to see the rooms?” Ramases asked Aed.
“I have lived in these rooms with the Fire Dragon fraternity. They are much the same.”
“OH! You are alumnus! Is Jona second or third generation or more?”
“Jona is actually fifth generation candidate, but I have no doubts he will make a fine teacher and, maybe a healer.” Dearbhail said.
“My father was no Dragon Master, but I think my grandfather was. But my father and grandfather did not speak much to each other.” Aed said.
Walls of polished obsidian stone made up the walls of the room, Jona had never seen the like of such a grand room.
“I get a room like this?” Jona gaped.
“Not alone, you would share this size of room with five others.” Ramases nodded.
‟Five? I don’t get to be alone?”
‟No first years do.” Aed said. ‟That is tradition.”
‟I’m going to hate the first year.”
‟You,” His mother pinned him with a deadly look that Jona knew well. ‟Young man, will learn. Study or I will come and teach you in each and every class.”
If Jona thought it was cold when he walked into the dorms, the chill that came from his mother could have cracked ice.

Dragon Master University Chapter 8. The DragonMaster University

Standard

VIII. The DragonMaster University

Jona looked at the lady, she had beautiful eyes, her ears were elegant with a slight point to them, elf for sure! Jona had never met an elf, but he was sure this was one. She was not nearly as old as his parents.

“Professor, this is our son, Jona, he has been chosen by the dragons, one follows him still.” Mother Samhain said softly. “Jona, this is Professor Melian Jewell, she is one of the senior teachers here in the university. She teaches dragon language, the only person I know that speaks all the known dialects of dragons, including the dead languages that no one speaks even now.

“She, I mean, you ma’am speak all dragon languages?” Jona followed his mothers finger as she pointed to the professor, to who he was to address the question.

“I was around when the dragons first encountered men, I helped set up the school, many winters ago.” Melian stated with an air of simple fact. Jona was getting the ongoing feeling that his school back home might be over, learning how many bushels would fit in a cart to today of dragons, elves, snow. His education was about to start. All that he had learned before was to practice for what was going to come now.

Professor Jewell looked up and down at Jona and nodded, “You have a dragon upon your person now, he is sleeping in the fold of your cloak. You may name him if you like because his real name would take you years to learn how to say it correctly.”

The professor was correct, the little dragon had found a loose fold in his sweater and was no longer moving, instead, it had warmed up and gone to sleep against the skin of Jona’s arm. If Jona did not know any better, it felt like the little dragon was purring.

The professor nodded curtly and excused herself as the Samhain family walked to the office, men and women walked by in many kinds of armor, many were gold, some were obviously a gray metal of iron. Dozens of beings, of humans and species that Jona had never dreamed of that existed passed him wearing laminated leather and metal decorations passed by every minute.

Jona began to notice that there was a subtle meaning to all the different types of decorations all over the leather that in many cases was a heavy weave of strips held in place by the metal rivets engraved into various flower shapes, then gilded with different colors.

He assumed that each color and shape meant something. Flowers, hands, what looked like ropes, crossed knives and either feathers or leaves, Jona could not tell which, embellished the shoulders and chests of humans, elves and— someone who looked like human, but was not.

Jona walked behind his parents looking about when a larger youth with raven-black hair collided with him, knocking Jona sideways and making Jona stumble and bump into another student who was gazing at the sky.

“You be careful! I am a DragonMaster.” The youth shoved back and growled at Jona.

The color of the jerkin was thin and worn, well used or poorly made, Jona could not decide. The aggressive stand of the student, however, flamed anger in Jona.

“Stop killing people for once, do not pull out your gutting knife just now. Let him live and come with me, please.” Aed turned and called to Jona. Shocking the other youth with the deadly reputation that the older generation recognized.

The other boy stood wide-eyed and looked on as Jona walked to his father, smiling to himself and in a way that no one else, but his father could see.

A wink the elder gave his son as the boy caught up and they walked off together.

“Thanks, Da'” Jona whewed quietly, “He’s bigger than I am. I did not want to have a fight so soon after getting here.”

“A father’s skill, I got you out of a fight without needing to raise my voice or get involved directly. But, be warned, it may just have put off what you will need to do later. He’ll want to test you.” Aed told him. “I recognize the forged flower on the leather vest he has on. A good family that has fallen on hard times. His own father suffered an attack by a dire wolf and nearly died. That boy’s father is now touched. Sometimes I find him in my shop wondering over common items. They live on the coast and are good people.”

‟Does the pirate king know him?”

‟Oh yes. Keegan O’Danu has gone out of his way to take care of the family. That is why the boy is here. The O’Danu scholarship, designed just for him. No one else can qualify, all Kacra had to do was apply”

‟Kacra?”

‟That’s the boy I warned you not to kill.”

‟Oh.” Jona thought about Kacra’s father wandering around the countryside.

From the coast to the shop would be at least a full days ride, two days to walk. How would Jona’s father get him home?

“Wagon mostly, and using an apprentice. Sometimes, I have given him a ride home on the dragon.” Aed leaned in whispering “I think that is why he keeps coming back.”

“So he takes it out on me?” Jona asked “I will have to avoid him or beat him.”

His mother shook her head at the her men talking.

“You will teach him how to teach dragons. By teaching you will learn, by learning from each other, you will teach.” She said.

”I do not want you to be fighting, I will be sorely upset if you get in trouble and I have to come by way of dragon— and I will come by fast dragon— to get you out of trouble from the school.” Her eyes flashed, “Then you will be in trouble with ME!”

Jona shuddered, somehow trouble with his mother, against the trouble in school? He feared his mother far more than anything the school might throw at him, including dragons.

Walking by a large door, several staff were moving bucket of fish in front of a large door to one of the dragon’s rooms. Barely they had time to get the door open when a tongue snaked out and wrapped itself around the leg of one of the faculty. Screaming for help, several of the bucket movers fought with the tongue until it let loose and returned inside the room— but only for a moment.

Out snaked the tongue again, finding the bucket, it dragged the container inside the room where a sound of sloshing could be heard.

Then the heavy bucket was airborn out and bounced off the door with a loud BONG. Jona could make out the shape of an armored dog, more than twice his height, possibly bigger than even the dragon that had brought them here.

Jona shook down to his bones when the bucket, big as ten men standing shoulder to shoulder, bounced as if it was the ball that Jona had seen the red-headed merchant had thrown for his son, Dana.

Jona looked up, it seemed like spires of a castle towered overhead on the inside of the old volcano, the heat and smoke that came from the bottom of the hole warmed the buildings, the fires were great stones that were heated by fire-breathing dragons that were being taught how to use their powers without burning things down. Jona was not sure who were teachers or who were students.

It seemed as if there were dragons that were professors as they ambled by with great medallions around their neck and others would bow to the dragons.

“The Dragons teach?” Jona could not stop his mouth from echoing his thoughts.

Aed chuckled and nodded, “Yes, you don’t find many students that daydream in those classes.”

Jona gaped at a red dragon that sat before an old lady professor. Her hair was blood-red, salted with white hair. Around the neck of the graceful, scaled neck of the dragon hung a medallion, battered and scarred, was a medallion engraved with runes around its edge, dwarfed by the size of the dragon, it seemed to be meant for someone of a different size. The dragon bowed it’s great head, as the professor kissed the scaled head and hugged (as much as she could wrap her arms around the huge head) the dragon.

Dearbhail looked at her son as he looked at the odd couple while they walked.

“Careful you will bump into a column.” She laughed quietly, “Those are the two most senior professors here. She is a witch, half-elf and her husband is a powerful wizard that gave up his human form to save her life, once upon a time during a battle with invading barbarians. But he did it in a way that no one can ever turn him back to his old shape. Someone has to say the proper spell, the proper ways with the proper words. No one knows how he did it and he cannot say how it was. He speaks rough human language, but not enough to undo the spell he made.”

Jona thought about this as they walked on, looking around. “Is this a castle?”

He looked around. “It is so large!”

“No, this is a village,” Aed laughed. ‟Really, a collection of schools that have banded together to make a more protected place to teach. This old volcano is long stopped being a danger, the only heat comes from deep underground or the dragons themselves.”

“We lived here a long time before you were born.” His mother added.

“Hatched, is better said. We found you under a rock.” his dad laughed as they walked. “Watch it!”

Jona nearly walked into a tree trunk sized leg as he was looking around, the dragon looked down and sounded like it snorted angrily at him while it moved past.

“She apologized,” Dearbhail translated for him. “This school was built inside the this old volcano, it can storm outside with a blizzard and all you will get in here is a soft rain.”

“Unless he has a class in the outside area” Aed added. “You will need to learn how to ride on dragons as well. It takes practice and a bit of luck— and a lot of understanding on how a dragon moves, thinks and lives.”

“This way,” his mother said as they turned into a beautiful building. A column of dragon images, each with a name under it.

“Puff?” Jona read, “What kind of name is that for a dragon? That seem silly.”

“Heh,” His dad laughed softly. ‟He was a legendary dragon that made one of the first contacts with humans that did not end in one or the other being killed.” Aed nodded, “It was the beginning of understanding between dragons and other creatures of the world.”

“Where do we go from here?” Jona asked

“Inside, come.” His parents escorted him in and he met the second smallest dragon he had seen so far.

Jona watched her as she moved around, she had a short tail, and she was in a same moment, color shifting from sky blue to forest green, performing complex paperwork quickly as she concentrated. She was so pretty that the young man nearly forgot to breathe.

Jona’s mom smacked him in back of the head and brought him out of his own little world of fantasy as the girl sized dragon smiled and looked down at her work.

“Happens all the time with new students.” She said with a musical voice. “It happens with dragons, elves and humans all the same.” She sighed and went back to a folder and opened it, pulling out several documents.

‟Clan Samhain, one child, Jona” She looked up at the gape-mouthed teenager “That must be you.”

Aed chuckled as his mom hid her face in the palm of her hand as she tried to stifle a laugh. Jona continued to stare, compared to the other dragons he had seen in the school, there was nothing like her.

“My name is Kolo and you can stop staring now, I am here to help you get through your first years, I will be your mentor and teacher of language arts of the first order. I also teach sports, I am a swimming dragon, but I also can fly. Do you swim?” Kolo looked at Jona with a soft smile and a wink.

Jona only made a momentary sound and then Kolo tapped him on the forehead.

“Are you okay? Did you eat a sleep berry?” Kolo giggled, “Here, just give these to you folks and then come back when you have your brain in your head instead of my shirt.”

Walking away Kolo looked over her shoulder at Jona who was being led out of the room by his father as they went to the desks to fill out the proper paperwork.