Angry at Goblins, Porridge, or Both?

The camp followers were already eating lunch. They had left the ridge country and were now stopped beneath Toornath Crater, a low volcanic vent on the flanks of Mount Telvi. Some of the children were running up the hillside to play on the rocks ringing the crater but the Royal Family was staying put while Mrs. Yulyanov all but force-fed her children plus Alexia and Caroline a lunch of cold porridge. The mule had been unhitched from the cart and was grazing close by.

Alexia looked down angrily at her half-emptied porridge bowl. She did not think she could stomach another bite of the tasteless gray sludge. She sat her bowl aside and crouched on the ground behind the wagon while she watched the children eating.

“Why aren't you eating?” asked Nikita Yulyanov.

“I'm not hungry,” Alexia said coldly.

“Alexia, you must eat,” Gladya ordered as she wrestled with the two-year-old to spoon-feed him his porridge.

“I said I'm not hungry,” she repeated.

“Mother, I'm not hungry either,” Margaret Yulyanov said to her mother.

“Margaret, you must eat,” said Mrs. Yulyanov, feeding her baby while leaning against a rock.

“Alexia, for shame,” Gladya hissed at her. “Setting a bad example for the children. A princess should eat what is put in front of her.”

“I'm not a princess, Gladya, I'm an outlaw like everyone else in this camp!”

“Alexia!” Caroline shouted.

“Well, if you don't want to eat, give your bowl to someone who would be more grateful,” said Gladya.

“I'll feed it to the trolls if they show up,” Alexia spat.

“I'll take it,” said Maria Yulyanov.

“Here,” said Alexia, passing her the bowl. She got up and went to relieve herself behind some bushes. While she was gone, Maria tried to tuck into Alexia's porridge.

“Yech, I'm not sure I can eat this either.”

“Let me see it,” said Caroline, who was seated next to her. She looked over the porridge and tasted it. “It seems fine. Maybe you should heat it.”

“Should we use magic? Can I try a heating spell, Mama?” Maria called over to her mother.

“Let Caroline show you,” said Mrs. Yuluyanov as she burped her baby.

“Here, put one hand on it,” said Caroline. She and Maria each held up the bowl with a hand. “Virwen,” Caroline said.

“Virwen,” Maria repeated. Their hands glowed, and the glow spread over the bowl. Alexia returned and saw them using magic to heat the porridge. The glow dissapated. The bowl was warm to the touch but not hot, and the porridge was just the perfect temperature.

“Thanks,” said Maria.

“You're welcome,” said Caroline. Maria had a few bites of the porridge. “How is it?”

“Much better,” said Maria.

Caroline heard a rustling sound behind them and turned around. Alexia was storming away from the family's picnic site.

Alexia was upset by the fact that she had not thought to ask someone to heat the porridge for her with magic. Of course she never would have thought of it herself because, well, she was a half-witch and no sparks came out of her hands when she performed a spell.

It would be much easier to smear the porridge on all of their faces, thought Alexia. And if any trolls or goblins showed up I could smear it onto them, too.

“Can you heat my porridge, too?” she heard Nikita ask.

“I can,” said Caroline.

“ATTACK!” someone at the edge of camp shouted. Everyone looked up and stopped what they were doing as a messenger ran in from the side of the crater. “Goblins from the Toornath outpost. At least two hundred of them!”

The camp followers began panicking, gathering up their possessions and trying to flee with their children.

“Everyone leave your possessions!” one of the camp leaders shouted. “Run back to the ridge!”

Women and children began screaming. Although some people still tried to grab bundles from their carts and shoulder their packs, most of the wagons and heavy loads of food and clothing were left behind as the camp followers began to flee back the way they had come. Nikita slapped the mule on its hindquarters and told it to run. Mrs. Yulyanov's baby began to cry, and Gladya picked up and carried the two-year-old. Caroline took Margaret and Maria by the hands. Nikita tried to run the other way.

“Nikita, where are you going?” his mother shouted.

“I'm going to go fight them!” he called back.

“Come back here! You're too young!” Nikita groaned but obliged his mother, following his family in the rear. Alexia ran next to him, looking back as an army of goblins came around the base of the crater. Short and armed with mostly long, thin spears, the goblins came in yelling savage and bloodcurdling war cries that made Alexia's neck hair stand on end. Some of the scouts along with the old men and young boys guarded the rear of the Opposition camp. However, as Alexia watched, the goblins attacked this rear line of defense with swords, felling most of the defenders and breaking through. Ignoring the Opposition's possessions laying on the ground, the goblins began to hurl their spears at the women and children. Alexia had stopped to watch, but now she screamed as she turned around and ran to catch up with her family. Then she paused again. She turned back and ran to where the Yulyanov's had eaten their lunch.

Caroline turned around to see where Alexia was and saw her running back towards the charging goblins.

“ALEXIA, WHERE ARE YOU GOING?” Caroline shouted at her.

“I have to try and stop them!” Alexia shouted back. She then resumed running.

Gladya and Caroline watched Alexia run back. “Go after her,” Gladya said. Caroline nodded and ran, the back of her dress billowing after her.

Alexia found the pot of leftover porridge still sitting in the Yulyanov's cart. Mrs. Yulyanov had made the batch yesterday, filling the pot so that there would be enough for the family for the entire week. It would do. Alexia carried the pot and, scooping with her bare hand, flung a large blob of porridge at the nearest goblin from behind the cart.

“Take that!” Alexia shouted.

The goblin got the porridge on the side of his face, slopped from his eye down to his mouth. The goblin spat out the bits that had got in his mouth.

“Blah! Pleh! Why YOU!” The goblin prepared to rush Alexia with his spear. Alexia flung another handful of porridge at his face and ducked to the other side of the cart. The goblin got the porridge in his eyes. Alexia saw another goblin charging at her and threw porridge at him. She missed. He lunged angrily at her,. She ducked under the cart. He threw his spear and it landed under the cart, knocking over the porridge bowl. The goblin bent down to pick it up again, but before he could Alexia grabbed the tip. The goblin gawked at her in confusion as they began to play tug-of war with the spear. The first goblin tried to attack her from behind. She threw the second goblin at the cart, and with their combined impact they pushed the cart over with all its contents still intact. The first goblin screamed in agony as he was crushed and the second while he was knocked over. She finally wrested the spear from his grasp and walked away.

Several charging goblins flung their spears at Alexia. She ducked them, and all of a sudden she had a flashback to the invasion when she had done the exact same thing. Anger surged through her frame. It was time for payback.

“You'll never hurt my family again!” Alexia shouted, thrusting her spear at one of the goblins before he could pick his spear off the ground. He fell over, wounded. She attempted to attack another goblin with a similar thrust, but he drew a short sword at his side and blocked the spear. He attempted to stab her, but she hit him on the side with the staff of her spear. He fell with a yell and rolled over.

“Wusses!” she shouted.

“Alexia, what are you doing here?” came Caroline's shout from behind her. “We have to go!”

“I'm trying to stop them. Leave me alone!” Alexia said to her sister as she blocked a goblin from attacking them.

“You can't stop two hundred goblins all by yourself!”

“I sure feel like it!”

“Let's just go!” Caroline shouted, grabbing her by the shoulder just before another goblin tried to spear them. As they were running back, however, they saw the Opposition camp running back their direction, screaming.

“What the?” Caroline shouted. They ran up to one of the scouts who was riding on horseback. “What's happened?” she demanded.

“Another goblin army has come from the east, led by Lord Televokov. We're making for the crater!”

“What? But we'll be sitting ducks in the crater!”

“The edge of the forest is on the other side. If we can make it to the trees we might stand a chance!”

“Drop the spear, Alexia, there isn't time,” Caroline told her sister. “We've got to run.”

Knowing it was probably a better idea to run, Alexia did what she was told and ran with her sister up the side of the mountain.

Finding Heaven

A girl who has been in Hades for the last several months was sweeping the floor when suddenly the words "Heaven is a place we want to go..." came to mind. She jotted down her ideas in a notebook, finished sweeping, and started to write to capture the feeling of heaven she has been looking for for a long time. I post this in hope that anyone who comes across this page will find the inspiration they are seeking.

What is Heaven?

Heaven is a place

we hope to go.

What it is like there

few can know.

It is a place

we cannot see,

where we are strong,

and young

and free.

The ones we love

will meet us there

and dress us in

robes of whiteness rare.

We will not hunger,

thirst or cry,

The sun shines without

smarting the eye.

We go to rest

from earthly care

so long as we bring

no sorrow there.

Heaven, Heaven,

where will we go?

O'er plains of grain

or mounts of snow?

Heaven is a place

we hope to be,

a place on earth

we cannot see,

a place in space

we cannot spy

except for the light

in our own eye.

Heaven is with

our friends on earth

who give love daily

from our birth,

Love comes from

their tender breath

that blows until

they greet

their death.

Heaven is

a warm embrace,

a merry laugh,

a gentle face.

'Tis where we go

when life does fail

and Jesus waits

beyond a veil.

Life in Exile--A Princess' Tale

I have had a busy month. The poetry night, of course, was a success. Everyone enjoyed my poetry and homemade oatmeal cookie bars (I even sent some leftovers home with the guests). Then what happened...blah...oh right, I helped the Medieval Club entertain at the Springville Summer Library, and I volunteered for New Student Orientation--what a total blast! Then I went on vacation for what feels like three weeks but was actually a week and a half. I recited a couple of poems at the talent show at the Family Reunion, making a great impression with a goofy double limerick about a Penguin....another time. My dad wanted me to read more of my stuff to the family but I didn't get the chance. Since I came down with a cold that last weekend I suppose I didn't object at the time but it still feels like a shame. Maybe the next time I go up to grandma's I can make up for that.

But in the last week I have made progress on Northern Warriors. The Blue Swan has launched for Revunia with Brittany Stevens on board. Hooray! And now I am following up on the excitement in Revunia as Alexia and her family face the goblin and troll armies that have invaded their country.

I am a very tangential writer. That is, if I get stuck on one detail it will get me off track for the rest of the chapter. So walking a very delicate line, I tried to describe the chaotic, unbalanced lives of Princess Alexia, her sister Caroline, and their brother Dmitri while trying to illustrate a scene. And I think I did an okay job of it. I like the way it weaves in and out of the setting to Alexia's mind and then into her memories and a description of events. The flow felt sort of like an essay. Here is the excerpt from Chapter 8, in which the Opposition camp followers are preparing to flee an army of trolls that has come to aid the goblins in destroying them:

The Revunian Opposition was camped along the Meikalon Ridge, a maze of small canyons in the south of Revunia made from numerous outcrops of volcanic rock that stretched from the flanks of Mount Telvi through the South Plains almost to the Nymph colony of Samasvvara, destroyed by goblins in the invasion three years ago. The few surviving nymphs had given shelter to the Opposition in some of the larger canyons once in their possession. While the goblins had attempted to attack them from the north and east, the Opposition armies had held them off at the northern boundaries of the ridge country while the camp followers—their families and friends unable to fight for themselves—waited in the center. They had moved every so often to keep safe, staying close to the villages in the north so the Opposition armies could defend the Revunian villagers from goblin mauraders, straying from civilization for safety when the goblins pressed too close. Over time, the army's numbers had dwindled, and engagements with the goblins became fewer.

Now, however, the situation was different. Alexia sensed as she followed Caroline through the camp that the tension in the air was strong enough to break glass. Tents were being ripped from their pegs, possessions bundled and packed without further organization, wagons stocked haphazardly as the camp followers prepared to leave. In spite of the confusion, Caroline was trying to run at full speed down the ridge, dodging bags of food and braying mules, sometimes grabbing Alexia by the hand and dragging her at the same breakneck pace. Alexia wanted to protest, but she had experienced emergency relocations such as this before. She knew that speed was of the essence. 

Now the tricky part: Introducing the nursemaid. 

They found Gladya with the Yulyanov family cart, holding Tatiana Yulyanov's baby as it cried and the worried mother dressed her fussy children. Alexia assumed that the father was already out with the gathering army.

Gladya was a tall nymph with a round face and dark curly hair stuffed behind a scarf. The blue eyelids indicative of her race appeared gray and green in the light of the camp torches now being extinguished.

“Do you have your things, Caroline?” she asked Caroline in her reedy voice.

“Yes, Gladya,” Caroline gasped.

Gladya looked at Alexia, who was moaning. “My feet hurt,” Alexia groaned. “And my stomach hurts.”

“Did you drag her here?” Gladya gaped at Caroline.

“She was already out of bed!” said Caroline. “I thought you wanted us here as quickly as possible.”

“Yes, but you can't rush the young, dear, why do you think this baby's crying? Here, you take it. Alexia, put yours and Caroline's things in the Yulyanov's cart.” Gladya shoved the baby into Caroline's arms and helped Mrs. Yulyanov dress her two-year-old that was currently in the throes of a tantrum. “You could have left him asleep for this, Tatiana.”

Alexia looked at the screaming boy. She was reminded of her unfortunate two-year-old brother Ivan, who had been killed by the fairy Televokov. Not wanting to dwell on her traumatic memories, she turned to the packs that Caroline had dropped. She threw them into the Yulyanov's small cart, not yet halfway loaded. The oldest son, Nikita, was helping his sister Margaret take down the tent. Their mule was being quickly combed and bridled by Margaret's twin sister Maria. Alexia sighed. The Royal Family had never had a cart of their own. They had always traveled with other families, shoving their few belongings into other vehicles, walking with other camp follwers, sometimes losing track of the wagon that had their bedrolls and having to search everyone else's things, sometimes finding their parcels discarded like rubbish or sometimes not finding them for a night or two until after making camp, sleeping on borrowed bedding.

The autumn following the invasion, Grand Princess Yelena and her surviving children were rescued by Nikolas Morhanat, who had escaped capture, and the Opposition, and they had taken them to safety in the Yeri caves on the northwest shores of Revunia. Yelena took most of her children to Canada to live in exile. Dmitri had to remain behind, however, to help lead the Opposition, and Caroline chose to remain to look after him. Alexia had volunteered to stay as well. She had no desire to leave her homeland, not even when it was almost completely conquered by goblins. She told her mother that she wanted to stay and help, and although Yelena was reluctant she decided Alexia would be happier in Revunia for the time being.

Now, almost two years after her mother had left, Alexia wondered if she really was happier. She had found a few friends among the camp followers' children, but contrary to her expectations she was spending less and less quality time with her family—unless, of course, quality time meant peeling potatoes and doing laundry with Caroline and Gladya. Dmitri, busy with training and conducting the military operations of the Opposition, was frequently busy during the day. Caroline sometimes lamented that he worked too hard to be a boy anymore. And too many of the other boys in camp, she would complain next, were trying too hard to be men. While she was obviously bemoaning the fact that the boys Caroline's age were all too busy being soldiers to be lovers, Caroline never said this, even though Alexia clearly knew she meant it. And in turn, Alexia wondered, and wondered if Caroline wondered, if they were too busy being women to be girls anymore. Or if, perhaps, they were too busy being peasants to be princesses.

Princess. She hardly felt like royalty anymore, she thought to herself as she saw Caroline rocking the fussy baby and getting burped on. She wondered if she had ever felt that way before in her life, if being a refugee for too long had taken all the royal bearing out of her. Caroline still acted like a princess the way she lorded over Alexia sometimes and walked tall with her hair in a bun the way a grown-up did. Or, rather, she was more like a governess. In the absence of a mother, it was clear that Caroline was taking after the bossy and demanding Gladya. Gladya was a distant cousin of their mother's, too distant to be considered royal and too distant to be called an aunt. Alexia honestly had no idea how their mother had known Gladya at all. She had been with the camp followers since the beginning, one of the Nymphs displaced from Samasvvara, with apparently no family or relatives or any reason to be there other than for protection. She had helped Yelena look after the family while she remained in Revunia, and when the Grand Princess left she had Alexia, Caroline, and Dmitri placed in her care. It was her job to make sure that Dmitri stayed fed and watered, that Caroline helped her to run the camp and the royal household (or whatever was left of it), and that Alexia pitched in to help when called for. She was very serious for a nymph, almost as cold-humored and sober as an elf elder. Whenever she opened her mouth, it was usually to give some sort of command or to converse about ducks and chickens or laundry and babies. She only used magic to fix, mend, and cook, but never for display or decoration. She appeared heartless enough to remind Alexia of a school headmistress she had read about in a book a very long time ago. The Revunian Royal court was not known for taking on governesses, but Gladya was in line for breaking that tradition.

But when Dmitri was not there to answer Alexia's concerns, as he so often was, it was Gladya to whom she would turn for answers.

“Gladya,” Aleixa asked, “Why is the camp moving now?”

“Because we are under threat of attack,” Gladya told her curtly. “All I'm hearing is that trolls from Siberia are attacking the south coast and they're coming after us.”

“My husband heard there were at least five hundred of them,” said Mrs. Yulyanov.

“Five hundred!” gasped Caroline. “Surely our armies aren't enough to stand up to them.”

“That's why your brother-in-law has gone to the elves,” said Gladya.

“He has?” asked Mrs. Yulyanov in surprise. It was apparently news to her.

“He has indeed,” said Gladya. “General Allhin has offered help to us numerous times before. Dmitri has declined, but now the need is urgent. They need the elves to help drive back the trolls until we reach safety.”

“But where are we going?” asked Caroline, who was rocking the now-sleeping Yulyanov baby.

“To the Feir caves,” said Gladya. “The Dwarfs have offered us shelter there. It will be a much more secure place to hide.”

Alexia privately agreed with Gladya's statement, although she would miss living in the open country along the Ridge. After her mother had left, the Opposition had left the Yeri caves for the Ridge in order to protect the outlying villages and confront the goblin army head-on. Although Alexia and few others knew the full implications of the sudden Troll attack, she had a feeling, and could tell by the looks on Gladya's and Caroline's faces, that the goblins would now have an advantage over them.

The mule was hitched to the cart. The camp followers assembled themselves into their respective families. Torches were doused. It was now completely dark except for a faint light outlining the distant volcanic peak of Mount Telvi.

“I wish we would get going,” Caroline muttered. “I thought we were in a hurry.”

“I thought we were too, but apparently not everyone has the same idea of a hurry,” said Gladya. “Apparently Henry Wilian kissed his wife and children goodbye in bed but forgot to tell them the camp was leaving.”

Caroline grunted in disgust, rolling her eyes. Alexia leaned against the cart. It was going to be a long day.

And no thanks to a dark shadow hovering over them in the darkness, watching them, it was going to be even longer.