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| The Man: Sean Connery. If my novel were ever made into a film, this man would be my Merlin. (Some people say I look like him even.) |
NOTE: One of the things I tried to do with Lancelot and the Tides of Times is to incorporate humor into the story whenever plausible. Throughout much of the novel because of Merlin's magic and Lancelot's desires to make amends for his many mistakes, Lancelot is possessed -- kind of -- with the spirits of three people: a woman acher/warrior; a knight of the round table; and a young man who is going to be a great king one day. In this excerpt, Lancelot and this three "passengers" are in the ruins of a city some five or six hundred years into the future and they meet Trilesa, the woman who will one day be the mother of a great king.
Lancelot and the Tides of Time is one of the featured novels in Buck County's Publishing's 12 days of Christmas sale which I have explained on Facebook and my other blogs. On December 18th, you will be able to purchase it for $5 off the regular price AND select a free book from a list. Please support me and my bank account if you have enjoyed Lancelot and the Tides of Time excerpts I have posted.
"Gawaine, do you see it?"
The voice, smothered by the mist-shrouded city
sounded muffled in the darkness as if the hoods of the
walking lost concealed the speaker's face.
"Could it be a dragon, Lancelot?" Gawaine said with
a voice that trembled slightly and sounded shrill.
“It could be something worse.” A hint of humor and
gentle prodding at young Gawaine's temerity tinged the
third voice, gruff and low.
“I suppose you will want to go charging out to slay
whatever it is like some kind of hero,” Galena said. She
spoke in a tone that betrayed a bit of disdain for Lancelot's
antics.
“Of course I'll slay it. Are you with me, Galena?"
“I guess.” A sigh escaped her lips.
“Gawaine? Gumpley?"
“We guess," two distinct voices answered.
Lancelot drew his sword, an action not seen in the
black, but revealed by the rustling of his cloak and the clunk
of a weapon as it cleared its leather sheath.
"For the honor of Arthur!” They sang out in unity.
Leather boots slapped on the ground as Lancelot burst into
action. In a fraction of a second, he was upon the beast. He
swung his weapon before the dragon could open its eyes.
Bits of sparks and fire shot into the night, and then the glow
went black.
"Leave me alone," a woman's terrified voice
pleaded. “I’ve done nothing to anybody."
“I’ve come to rescue you."
"Rescue me?”
"Yes. Damsels in distress. That's our business."
"Our? Who do you have with you?"
"I'm Gawaine.” Lancelot motioned to his left at
nothing but air. "This is Gumpley." He motioned to his
right – again at empty air.
"And I am Galena."
The woman peered through the darkness. "You're
one of lost ones, aren't you?”
"Your gratitude is enough for us, fair damsel.”
Lancelot took one step forward, planning to kiss her hand as
was the custom when a knight saved a damsel in distress or
did some other good deed, but on the second step, the
woman suddenly stopped his intentions. She held,
concealed behind her back, a leather pouch big enough to
hold a night's provisions and clothes. As Lancelot-his eyes
searching for her delicate hands-reached out, the woman
swung the leather pouch straight at his head. Lancelot
staggered backward, tripped over what he thought was
dragon’s remains, and crashed to the ground. Tiny stars
danced in the night like fairies and went out.
The damsel, who was definitely not in distress,
fumbled for her now snuffed torch lying on the ground. She
quickly stirred the ashes until they began to glow.
Relighting her torch with one hand and holding an eight inch
dagger in the other, she peered into the night.
"I know you're out there. I'm warning you. I may be
a woman, but I’m no lady.” She thrust the torch into the
night, her hand clutching the dagger. Nothing. Only the
darting shadows of rodents retreating from the light to lurk
back into the gutters and sewers. "Chicken guts, all of you."
Next, she held the light over the cold-cocked
Lancelot. He lay as if dead, his eyes rolled back in his head,
a large lump over his right eye. A trickle of blood rolled
from the lump.
“What the ...” She studied the limp Lancelot.
"You’re a shrimp."
This attacker--this lost one- was a good eight inches
shorter than Trilesa and skinny; his ribs showed through a
tattered tunic, more black and gritty with dirt than the
natural brown of fine leather. His breeches were ripped and
torn, patched up, and ripped again. He carried a leather
pouch around his neck.
"I killed the little runt,” she said, and then when she
leaned over him with her ear pressed close to his lips, she
felt his almost imperceptible breath. She placed her fingers
along the veins in his neck and felt a heartbeat. "Well, I
didn't kill you-"
Lancelot's eyes rolled back into place. "I love you,”
the voice said, "And I need you.” When he kissed her
lightly on the neck, she slammed his head back into the
ground.
"Do that again and I'll make you a woman."
"What do you think I am, you ugly witch?"
Trilesa jumped backwards as the figure sat up
straight.
"How did you do that ... I thought you were, uh,
Lancelot."
"I am,” the female voice continued from Lancelot's
mouth. Even the face softened and looked feminine – ugly,
but feminine.
Getting over the initial shock, Trilesa approached the
"thing". "You must be another personality. Galena? Uh,
where is Lancelot?"
The face hardened, and the shrill voice of Gawaine
suddenly came from Lancelot's mouth. "What do you think
happened to him? You knocked him out."
Then Gumpley said, "If you weren’t a woman I would-"
“Stop right there or I'll knock you out."
Gumpley stopped and looked at her in the dim light
of the torch, looked at how very beautiful she was, looked at
her closely, and noticed her muscles. She was actually more
muscular than he was. Even in the dim light, he could see
her long hair and her curves. He truly was in love. If only
he didn't have Lancelot-
“Don’t stare at me."
"Your beauty makes not staring an impossibility --
“0h, shut up, you old, lust bag,” Galena interrupted. "I would
like to know why you knocked Lancelot out."
"He destroyed my fire barrel-I was trying to keep
warm in this blasted graveyard of a city,” Trilesa said.
"I think I'll call you Lesa,” Gumpley said.
"Wait a minute.” Trilesa’s voice hinted of
impatience bordering on violence. "I can't talk to all of you
at once. If you don't get your," she paused, searching for a
word, "heads together, I'm going to knock all of you out."
"Let me apologize for Lancelot,” Galena said. “He
thought he was slaying a dragon."
"Dragons? There haven't been dragons-"
"Don't say it; you'll break his heart."
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