The Endless Circle - Chapter 18: Responsibility

"The town’s main street was the dirtiest, smelliest
and most crowded place they had ever seen in their lives."

After an hour of waiting Banac was beginning to grow restless. He sat at the edge of the clearing with his knees drawn up to his chest, looking down into the valley, watching for any sign of the white-skinned figure returning.

“Where is he?” he muttered, half to himself. “He should have been back by now.”

Balor looked up from where he was collecting mushrooms on the far side of the clearing.

“He’ll come back,” he said, unconcerned.

“I don’t know,” said Banac. He looked out again. Balor seemed to have forgotten that somewhere down there Father was being held, probably in a dungeon filled with rats. It rankled Banac that he had to sit up here waiting for Haemel to return, when by rights he should be down there, rescuing Father.

He sat for a while longer, shifting his weight whenever his legs began to fall to sleep. The incessant splashing of the waterfall behind him had begun to grate on his nerves. He tried to think of something else, to imagine something other than Father rotting in a cell, but in the end he could wait not longer.

“I’m going down,” he said, standing and brushing himself down.

The Endless Circle - Chapter 17: Falen

"The hillside was quiet, apart from the sighing of the wind
and the mournful bleating of the sheep."

In the hall of Craec Annwn the soldiers were waking up after their night of revelry. Coughs and groans filled the air as they stirred their stinking, ale-soaked bodies.

The last to wake was a young man whose name was Falen. At twenty years old he was allowed to call himself a man, but in truth he was scarcely more than a lad: his beard was sparse, and his voice still cracked occasionally. He was more hung-over than the rest, his eyeballs as dry as sandpaper and an ache in his head the size of a fist; as he sat up and rubbed his eyes the pain intensified, making him wince and clap his hands to his temples.

There were laughs from the other end of the hall.

“Hey! Look! Baby’s up at last!”

“You all right, mate? Bit of a lightweight, ain’t yer?”

“‘E is, isn’t ‘e?”

“Oi! Falen! You should stick to milk, mate!”

Lifting the Lid - Part 1

For those of you who are interested in the craft of writing, I've put together a series of articles that lift the lid on my own writing process.

Of course, everyone's writing process is different, and I can only speak for myself. But I hope that these may prove helpful and instructional for readers wanting to get into writing themselves.


For this first installment, I thought it would be interesting to give an example of something that happens more often than you might think: life imitating art (or as we say in the business - 'blind luck').

When I wrote the sixteenth chapter of 'The Endless Circle' I spent some time coming up with the description of Craec Annwn. Here are the resulting drafts (scroll down if these bore you):

'The Endless Circle' - Chapter 16: Haemel

"Upon its summit a castle crouched, like some predatory beast ..."

Banac woke with a start and sat up sharply, looking around in confusion. For some reason he was not in his warm, comfortable bed, but in the middle of a wood with the bright sun shining down in dappled shades of green through the canopy overhead. For a moment he was baffled, then he looked down at Balor’s small form lying with his head in his lap, and slowly the events of the night before came back to him, and he knew it had not been a dream.

He yawned and stretched his aching limbs, taking care not to disturb Balor. He looked around again, remembering more and more of the details of the previous twelve hours. In the cheerful light of day it seemed impossible that such things had taken place, here in this peaceful wood. But they had: the standing stones, the fire, the galac-men, the beremer ...

The beremer! He twisted his head, looking this way and that, but the glade was empty. They were alone. The beremer had not kept his word. He had left them here and run off.

The Endless Circle - Chapter 15: The Feasting-Hall

"In the middle place sat the Baron, champing on his food
as spit and juices dribbled down his chin."

As the soldiers rode away from the hollow in the forest Father’s only thought was of Banac. He was proud of his boy, proud that he had found him, that he had dared to come after him in the first place. But mingled with the pride was fear, and shame: he should never have allowed Banac to get involved in this.

He tried to comfort himself. Haemel was there, Haemel would be with him. If there was anyone in the world he would trust with Banac’s life it was Haemel.

He offered up a prayer to Cafan that they would be kept safe and brought out alive. But even as he formed the words in his mind he felt the same doubt that had come to him when he had seen the soldiers on the beach and the look of fear in his wife’s eyes. When the test had come, when the world had intruded on his faith, his faith had wavered, and now he trusted more in Haemel than he ever had in Cafan.

The Endless Circle - Chapter 14: Escape

"The beremer’s eyes snapped open ..."

The beremer was still unconscious, lying with his head back and his neck exposed, his eyes shut fast. Banac hissed at him and patted his face once or twice, all the time keeping half an eye on the galac-men as they busied themselves quenching the flames. But his efforts had no effect, and time was running out.

Quickly he picked up the sword and started sawing at the ropes. The blade was sharp, and though the ropes were thick and tightly knotted they soon fell away in limp coils. Banac looked up, his heart skipping a beat as he saw how much the smoke had cleared. The galac-men had brought the fire under control, and some of them were beginning to stand back and re-organise themselves.

He looked back down at the the beremer: he was as comatose as ever, his limbs limp and heavy. A quick glance over his shoulder showed Banac the way to the trees was still clear. He made up his mind.

The Endless Circle - Chapter 13: Sunlight

"... dark shadows of hooded men pacing round the clearing ..."

When he was sure the soldiers had gone, and the wood was silent once more, Banac rose shakily to his feet and scrambled back up the bank. Balor would still be waiting for him, alone and probably terrified out of his wits. He retraced his steps back to the tree where he had left Balor; but when he reached it his stomach knotted in alarm. The place was deserted. Balor was gone.

Panic gripped him, and for a horrible moment he imagined that Balor had been found and taken away along with the beremer. Then a hiss came from near his feet, and someone whispered his name:

“Banac? Is that you?”

The Endless Circle - Chapter 12: Rescue

"It would only be a matter of seconds to untie Father’s cords ..."

Banac crouched low as he made his way towards the torches. He felt energised. No longer were they lost or aimless. He had a fresh purpose now, a mission to accomplish. He tried to think like a hero, and moved as silently as he could.

When he was close enough to the torches to feel the heat of the flames he dropped to his belly and wormed his way past them, squirming along the ground until he could look out into the camp beyond.

As his eyes adjusted to the light he saw that he was lying just above head-height on the lip of a steep bank that dropped into a wide semi-circular depression, a dark clearing dotted with figures and firelight. It was hard to make out details, but he could see horses tied on one side, and a number of camp fires here and there. About ten feet to his left a small group of figures was huddled around a fire. He lay still and tried to hear what they were saying.

The Endless Circle - Chapter 11: The Song

"... trees loomed ahead in the flickering torch-light,
hunched into twisted forms ..."

They followed a faint track down the hill, winding back and forth through knee-high gorse. At the bottom of the hill lay the edge of the wood, little more than an inky shadow under the burning sky. Banac went in front, knocking aside the thickest of the scrub with a stick; Balor followed patiently, pausing when his brother paused and walking where he walked.

They did not speak, but their silences were for different reasons. Banac was planning the next steps, feeling the exhilaration of leadership; Balor was pensive and moody, his mind’s eye turned back the way they had come, fretting and worrying about what they were doing.

The sun sank lower and lower, briefly setting the clouds on fire before she finally slipped out of sight. With her departure the sky began to darken and cool, and by the time they reached the tree-line dusk was deepening into warm, fragrant night. They stopped next to a dense hedge of chest-high ferns that flourished all along the edge of the wood. Balor flopped down on the grass, his cheeks flushed, the novelty of the adventure wearing off already.

The Endless Circle - Chapter 10: Pursuit

"The roof had become a bonfire,
smoke pouring upwards from the blazing thatch."

Balor ducked as the dull explosion ripped through the air; a fraction of a second later a blast of heat singed his face. He glanced out from the doorway where he was hiding. Everything was in chaos: people were running backwards and forwards through a billowing cloud of black smoke, shouting, crying, bleeding.

He looked around, trying to find Mother’s face in the confusion. He had lost hold of her as soon as the men had stormed up the beach and the soldiers guarding them had fled in the face of the attack. The women had scattered in panic, coming between Mother and him and wrenching his hand from hers. He had cried out for her and stumbled around desperately, hoping she would come back for him, but then the fighting had come upon him and he had run away, looking for shelter from the noise and violence. He had come upon the doorway and crouched there, his eyes tightly closed and his hands clamped over his ears, until the blast shook the door-posts and he looked out to see what had happened.

He could not make out much. The air was filling fast with black smoke, and the people dashing about were already little more than silhouettes. A gust of wind came in off the sea, clearing the air for a moment, and in that second he caught a glimpse of his house. He gasped. The roof had become a bonfire, smoke pouring upwards from the blazing thatch. The men and women were trying desperately to put it out, all thoughts of battle forgotten. Already the flames were reaching out to neighbouring houses: even as he watched another roof caught alight, and a fresh blast of heat rolled over him as cries of despair rose from the villagers.

The Endless Circle - Chapter 9: Arrest

"A slim blade sprang from nowhere and pressed against his cheek."

Banac’s stomach lurched. Balor clenched his hand tightly, and Mother drew them close. Banac could feel her hands trembling as she held their shoulders. He was breathless, tense, his mind whirling as he tried to take in what he had just heard.

No-one moved. Everyone was waiting to hear what the Elder would say. But Agwaen did not speak. He stood with the blade almost touching his throat and stared calmly at Aedwyc. The younger man began to grow visibly agitated. His arm trembled with the effort of keeping his sword raised, and his tongue darted out to moisten dry lips.

“What do you say, old man?” he snapped impatiently. “Will you tell me where this Beorod is cowering?”

Still Agwaen said nothing. Aedwyc clenched his teeth and raised the sword a little more. “Why do you protect him?” he said. “What is he worth to you? Must I put fire to these houses and swords to your women before I have an answer from you?”

“Aedwyc.” The voice was quiet, but it startled him so that he dropped his sword-arm. He turned, and the whole village turned with him to see who had spoken.

The Endless Circle - Chapter 8: The Baron's Men

"... a column of riders on great war-horses,
their mighty hooves tearing up the packed earth ..."

Banac and Balor were stiff and bleary-eyed when they woke from restless sleep the next morning. However, only Balor was ordered out of bed to start the day’s chores; and when he pointed out how unfair this was — quite reasonably, he thought — Mother slapped him on the thigh and told him not to be so unfeeling towards his brother.

While Balor howled to high heaven Banac lay with his face to the wall, ignoring the drama. Normally he would have enjoyed seeing his brother get into trouble, but on that morning he barely noticed. He was distracted, restless. Maybe it was an ache in his limbs that had started during the night; maybe it was tiredness from staying up late with Balor; maybe it was the tangle of unsolved mysteries going round and round in the back of his head.

Whatever it was, Banac felt he could not care about such petty things any more, and he lay unmoving as he listened to the sounds of the village and his family getting up and ready for the day.

The Endless Circle - Chapter 7: Pieces

When Balor arrived home Father was already there, sitting by the fire with a bowl of stew. He looked up when Balor came in, but he said nothing, and there was no suspicion in his eyes. Banac lay in bed, his face hidden, and Mother was busy with the fire. Grandfather was sitting in a corner, praying as usual. Balor’s eyes strayed over to his own bed where the stranger lay, but he was still asleep, covered with many blankets, and Balor could hardly see him.

He was itching for a few moments alone with Banac, but as soon as Mother saw him she sent him out for firewood; and when he had brought the firewood she asked him to stack pots; and when he had stacked the pots she asked him to tidy the bed-clothes; and he had no choice but to obey.

Even when he had finished all of the tasks she had given him there was still no opportunity to talk, with Mother and Father sitting so close by. Balor fidgeted and played with his fingers, the desire to share his news eating away inside him. Banac did not seem bothered, and this made Balor even more restless. Did he not want to know what had been said in the hall? Was he not even the least bit interested?

The Endless Circle - Chapter 6: The Long-Hall

When Balor woke the next morning there was still no sign of Banac. Mother’s eyes were red and raw, and she made his breakfast in silence, and Balor did not ask her any questions.

The men had come back late last night, empty-handed and grim-faced. As soon as it was light they had gone out again in another search party; but when they returned after breakfast without any success Mother’s face twisted into a funny shape, and she went into the house with Father and stayed there for a long time. Balor was not allowed in to see them.

“Leave them be for now, young ‘un,” Elred told him. “They’ve enough to worry about without you bothering them.”

He took Balor to the smithy, where he let him pound iron for a few hours until his face was black with smuts and his eyes watered, and he had forgotten about Banac completely. But by late afternoon Elred had run out of things for him to do, and he sent him home, warning him not to bother Mother and Father more than was necessary. When Balor ducked through the door he found them huddled to one side, whispering urgently in tense voices — and still Banac was nowhere to be seen.

The Endless Circle - Chapter 5: The Beremer

“Balor! Have you seen your brother?”

Mother wandered in and out of the house distractedly, growing more and more agitated as the light failed. Balor watched her from his place by the fire, feeling the same agitation gnaw at his own breast. Father was the only one who was not alarmed. He sat by the door with a pipe in his hand, blowing smoke into the gathering dusk.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” he said. “You know Banac — always running off for one thing or another.”

“But he looked upset! Didn’t he look upset?” Mother glanced outside again. “And Elred said he’d been out of sorts all day. Can’t you at least go and look for him?”

Father reached out and caught her by the hand, holding her still. “If he doesn’t come back in an hour or so, then we’ll go and look for him.”

“But it’s dark already! He could be anywhere!”

“There now.” He stroked her back gently. “You’ll frighten Balor. Come. Sit a while. Have something to eat. Try not to think of it. He’ll be back before long, you’ll see.”

The Endless Circle - Chapter 4: Blackmail

It seemed to Banac that he slept for only a few moments before he was roused by the sound of Mother clattering about by the fire. He struggled to sit up in bed, blinking through gritty eyes. It was late morning already – the door-curtain had been drawn back, letting in bright sunshine and cool air. Father was sitting up in his bed on the other side of the room with fresh bandages on his leg, drinking a cup of something hot. From outside came mingled sounds of voices, confused babblings of gossip trickling through the village, undercut by the noise of hammering and sawing. And over it all, distant and chilling, a single voice was raised in a long, quavering wail of despair.

“Good morning,” Mother said as she came over with a bowl of hot oats. “Though there's nothing good to be found in it, for sure.” Her voice was cheerless, her eyes ringed with dark circles. She handed him the bowl and turned back to the fire. “You’ve slept long enough,” she said over her shoulder. “Go and get dressed and help your brother outside. There’s plenty of work to be done today, and more than enough mourning to be done besides.”

Banac bit back the protest that came all to easily to his lips: Mother’s face told him today was not a day for argument. It was a day for doing what he was told, and for not answering back, and for hard work and comfort for those who grieved.

Housekeeping

Hi all. Comments are now active for any and all posters, but I will be moderating them in order to filter out any spam. This is my right as absolute dictator of my own online police-state, so please don't be offended.

This means comments may take up to 12 hours to appear, depending on whether I check my email or not - but since I've recently discovered email on my phone it should be sooner.

Also, many thanks to everyone who has been following the blog. Please tell all your friends and family, especially younger (12+) readers, so I can start getting feedback.

Most of all, keep reading, and I hope you enjoy!

The Endless Circle - Chapter 3: The Storm

Banac said nothing to Balor of his encounter with the Scholar, and in any case there was no time, for as soon as they arrived home Mother had chores waiting for them. “Consider this the next part of your punishment,” she told them as she handed them sifting-pans and a sack of grain.

They sat outside in the late afternoon sunshine with the sifting-pans in their laps,  not speaking, shaking out the grain and collecting piles of rough brown chaff between their crossed legs. After ten minutes of silent work Balor straightened up and looked at Banac.

“So are we going to talk about it?” he said.

“Talk about what?” Banac did not look up.

“About what you found — about what you’ve got hidden over there.”

The Endless Circle - Chapter 2: The Scholar

They made their way back through the forest along the same path they had taken earlier that day. Banac ignored his brother’s loud sniffs and exaggerated sighs: Balor had been known to hold grudges for days, and was sure to continue reminding him of his ill-treatment for hours yet.

“Keep up,” was all he said, and Balor had no choice but to obey.

The air in the forest was stifling, and the trees seemed to close in around them as they shoved through the undergrowth. Beads of sweat prickled their backs, and their clothes clung to them uncomfortably. It was the hottest summer in living memory, and for the better part of a month the skies had been harsh and cloudless.

It was with relief that they felt the ground begin to rise, then steepen sharply, and then the path rose out of the stifling trees, winding up the western face of the ridge of hills that lay between them and the Sea. A welcome breeze brushed over their skin as they climbed, stirring their hair and tugging gently at their woollen smocks.

Halfway up the hillside they stopped for a rest. Balor flopped down on the grass, red-faced and sweating; Banac stood and looked back the way they had come.

The Endless Circle - Chapter 1: The Torc

The clearing was silent and still, the forest resting in the balmy heat of summer. The stones also rested, reclining like old men sleeping though the long afternoon; some had fallen on their sides in the grass and were half-covered by mossy blankets, while others leaned drunkenly, about to fall but never falling. All of them were chipped and worn down by the ravages of time and the elements, their rugged scars the only evidence of their antiquity.

They were arranged in two wide circles, the outer circle twelve feet tall and the inner circle half as high, twenty pillars hewn from grey marbled rock. In the middle, alone, a black stone lay, six feet long and three feet high, shining dully in the dappled shade. No-one knew who had quarried the stones and brought them here; it had been done so long ago that not even the trees remembered the hands that had wielded the tools, or the arms that had hauled on the ropes, or the sweat that had dripped from the brows of the men who consecrated the ground.

Trees grew for miles around, and brambles hemmed the clearing in on all sides. But the plants knew better than to take root on the holy ground itself. Animals did not come there. Birds did not fly over head. The place was quiet and still, with the stillness of the grave.
The brambles rustled, breaking the sacred silence. A moment later a small voice cursed under its breath. More rustling, then a boy’s head appeared at ground level and looked both ways before breaking into a grin.

“We’re here!” he whispered over his shoulder.

The Endless Circle: Prologue

"A light appeared around a corner,
wavering and flickering uncertainly."

The cellar was dark, damp, and endless. Its brickwork arches and passageways extended in a twisting maze for what seemed like miles in all directions. Somewhere in the distance water dripped, and the sound echoed hollowly through rooms filled with forgotten artefacts slowly gathering dust. Only those who knew where they were going ventured down there, and because such people were few and far between the place was usually deserted.

The darkness and silence did not scare the boy. He had been coming here for as long as he could remember, down to his sanctuary, far from the noise and bustle of the crowded halls above. It was peaceful here, peace being a rare commodity where he was from. He liked to come and just sit in some abandoned store-room, imagining himself to be somewhere else, somewhere far away where no-one knew him and no-one could reach him.

But not today. Today he was not alone. Today he was scared.

The Endless Circle: Introduction

'The Endless Circle' is the first in a series of fantasy/adventure books for readers aged 12+. It follows two brothers, Banac and Balor, whose father is kidnapped after they rescue a mysterious stranger from the hands of a sinister cult.

As they pursue their father's captors they discover more about his secret past, and find themselves caught up in events far greater than they ever could have imagined.

I am currently working on the final draft of this book, and will be posting it up chapter-by-chapter as I go.

I hope you enjoy it.

Welcome to Vilu Nilenad, the home of great stories for all ages from eight years upwards. These stories are ones I have been working on for some time, and all are works-in-progress — but they have given a few people enjoyment so far, and my wish is that many more will enjoy them!

Follow the various different stories by clicking on the links at the top of the page. I will be posting more threads as time goes by.

You can receive updates via all the usual channels. Add yourself to keep up-to-date with developments.

And, most importantly, enjoy!