Excerpt from Lancelot and a word about Reckless...

...the name of a book by Cornelia Funke, the author of the Inkheart trilogy.  I started reading it yesterday morning and finished it last night. I guess that gives you some idea of how good it was.  I am in my older age an impatient reader sometimes.  If I don't immediately get into a book, I tend to put it down and not finish it.  It isn't necessarily because the book is bad, it's just that I am usually doing so many things that I don't like to start a book unless I can completely immerse myself in it until I finish it.  So it was with Reckless.  Perhaps at a later date, I will write a brief review of it.  The book has some similarities to Inkheart but enough differences to make it special in its own way.

This is the second time in the past week I've sat down and read an entire book.  The other one I mentioned on an earlier blog.

It's Sunday, and every Sunday I like to post an excerpt from my book, Lancelot and the Tides of Time.  In this excerpt, Lancelot meets King Arthur for the first time.
You can order the book at
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005IDNASS/ref=tsm_1_fb_lk
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/lancelot-and-the-tides-of-time

BOOK TWO:

WORLDS APART

Chapter 1

Lancelot peered out from behind the tree into the clearing. What he saw astounded him. A young man close to his age stood and practiced his battle techniques. That he would dare do such a thing in Arthur’s kingdom infuriated him, and fierce loyalty for the man he had never met welled up inside of him. However, before he rushed into the clearing and beat the living stuffing out of the profligate, he decided to study his moves.

In front of the young man hung what looked like a scarecrow on a revolving post. With a wooden staff, roughly five feet long, he smacked one arm of the contraption, and when it spun around, he would counterattack and knock it back the other way. The faster the man smacked the ends of the wooden dummy the faster it spun. Lancelot marveled at the quickness of the young man, but once every ten or 12 swings, the dummy would get a good lick in on the young man and send him flying. This infuriated him, and he would swing as hard as he could, not caring for balance and control.

This lack of control often turned the tide of combat. Control often made the difference between the conquered and the conqueror.

After watching for only a minute or two longer, Lancelot knew enough he could easily defeat the young man in a battle. Because he believed in giving the enemy a fair

chance, he decided he would not simply rush him from behind and crack his skull. Instead, he stepped calmly into the clearing.

“Who are you to dare profane the sacred realm of Arthur?”

The young man whirled around. He studied Lancelot carefully to size him up. Lancelot knew that nothing about himself suggested anything unusual. Both of

them stood about the same height and weighed about the same. The sun had bronzed them both, and both possessed muscular builds. In fact, Lancelot marveled at how much this villain looked like him. About the only differences between the two that Lancelot noticed were their hair, his long and black, the other’s light brown and cropped short; and their eyes, his a silver blue and the other’s a muddy brown.

“Who I am is none of your business,” the young upstart said and then readied his staff.

“Maybe, but your presence here is my business. You don’t belong in this place.”

“I suppose you think you can do something about it.”

Lancelot sprang into action. He swung his own staff hard at the young man’s upper chest, but his opponent  blocked his swing, whirled and tried to hit Lancelot with a

quick backhand. Lancelot hadn’t expected the move so soon, but he blocked the blow anyway.

Next, the enemy tried a frontal assault. Holding the staff in the middle, he used both ends of it in his attempts to hit Lancelot. Each one Lancelot blocked.

Enraged, the young man grabbed the staff at one end. He stepped back two steps just as Lancelot expected. Then, he swung hard straight at Lancelot’s head. Lance blocked it easily, whirled around, and with his back swing hit his opponent in the upper chest and sent him flying to the ground. Thinking this would end the conflict, Lance relaxed, but to his surprise, the young man jumped to his feet.

“I’ll kill you!” However, he didn’t get the chance.

“Stop it!”

The voice, heavy with authority, froze both of them. From out of the cover of woods, an old man stepped and stood in the clearing. He shook his head in disgust.

“Haven’t I told you once before that you’re going to win more ballgames with base hits than you are home runs?”

As Lance stood confused, the young man answered, “Yes, but I still don’t understand what it means.”

“I forget where I am sometimes,” the old man muttered. “Baseball … never mind. It means you can defeat an opponent of equal ability with several smaller blows rather than one larger blow. In this case you forgot that and lost your composure. Instead of reconsidering your strategy, you go charging forward like an idiot. You deserve to be thumped good and hard. Be thankful Lancelot did not have a sword or you would be dead,” the old man said as he pointed at Lancelot.

“Lancelot?” the young man said.

“The very same. I told you he was good.”

Lancelot gripped his staff. “What is this witchery?”

“The correct term is wizardry, young man. I can understand why you are confused.” The old man stepped forward and extended his hand.

Frightened, Lancelot raised his staff to strike. When heat suddenly shot into the wood, he yelped and dropped his weapon to the ground.

“Don’t even try it, Lance. I am a wizard and I can obliterate you in one second. Allow me to introduce myself and my young charge here. I’ve been called lots of things in my lifetime, but Merlin will do for now. And this is King Arthur.”

Lancelot gasped, lurched backward, and clumsily knelt. With his eyes locked on the ground, he said, “My liege, forgive me for my impudence. I have insulted my king. Execute me here and now.”

“Get up,” Merlin said. “He’s a king, not a saint, and a man at that – a pretty stupid man at times.”

With astonishment and horror, Lancelot stared at this disrespectful wizard.

“He’s right. I generally am pretty stupid, but I have some great ideas for the kingdom, and you figure into many of them.”

Merlin whistled through his fingers. “Crystal. Come!”

When Lancelot looked up, he saw a white horse stroll from the woods. Then, he took a closer look. To his amazement, he saw a brilliantly white horn protruding from

the animal’s forehead.

“A unicorn.” He looked once more at the old man. He looked familiar.

“That’s only the beginning. Merlin tells me you are going to be one of the most important people in history.”

“I think my exact word was histories,” Merlin said.

“Histories? That doesn’t make sense,” Arthur said.

“You have a lot to learn.”

“It doesn’t make any sense,” Lancelot said.

“And you too. I just hope we don’t all get killed before you learn them.”

It suddenly struck Lancelot. “I know who you are!”

This guy would be Arthur if my book were made into a movie.

This guy would be Lancelot if my book were made into a film.

Lancelot and the Tides of Times would be a fantastic film if I could ever convince a Hollywood producer to read it.