Pattin didn’t know what they were fighting for. All he
knew was that when their commander yelled the order he was to let loose his
arrows toward another trench opposite theirs somewhere in the Red Sands desert.
Rumor was they were fighting over mines, dukes, power, and money. Nothing he’d
ever be privy to. It didn’t matter. He was here because he’d been conscripted.
He’d been in this trench for nine days straight. Hot,
drenched in sweat, sick to his stomach, and with little to eat or drink. Tired
of swatting flies and stepping over the bodies of his comrades, he was ready to
leave. No one wanted to be here, especially not the lads from Bidsworth, and
especially not on the front lines.
He spat the dust out of his mouth and bit another piece
of jerky.
“When is she going to come for us?” he asked his
friend.
“Tonight, they said. Maybe,” Ivan whispered.
“What do you mean, maybe? She promised.”
“She can only take five at a time.”
“Bloody Marks, she’s been here every night for a week.
What’s she going to do, get everyone but us? The more people who leave, the
less chance of survival for those who stay. I’m too young to die in this rat
hole.”
Ivan shrugged—a hint that he wasn’t happy about the
situation either.
“We could try and make a run for it on our own,” Pattin
whispered, his lips barely moving, glancing around the desolate countryside.
Over the sand, the heat waves danced, crafting a mirage
of water, a deceptive illusion that only a fool would pursue. Bait for the
enemy. Pattin licked his lips, wishing for a drink of cool water from the
springs in Bidsworth, his homeland, a wealthy duchy whose stone structures
mirrored the color of the red earth. Here in the wasteland, iron ore poisoned
the vegetation, and there was nothing but dust as far as the horizon. The
soldiers hated this place, and rumors of desertion were burning the ears of the
agents at base. The officers were watching the troops like hawks.
“Fool. We’d have bolts in our backs, dead. Is that what
you want? If I’m going to desert, I’m doing it with Kezia.” Ivan wiped the
sweat from his brow; his face caked with red earth. Even his eyelashes were
laden with dirt.
“What makes her so special that she can get us out with
no one noticing?”
Ivan snickered and glared at him. “She’s the duke’s
daughter, remember? Plus, she’s smart, crafty, and wicked.”
“Duke sabotages his own army through his daughter!”
Pattin mumbled.
“Stop complaining or she’ll never come and get you.”
Pattin wiped his brow, his mouth fixed in a frown. She
might not come for him at all. It’s everyone else’s luck to be saved by a
duchess.
“Heads up!” The dreaded warning arrived just
as a flurry of bolts blotted out the sun.
Pattin covered his head with his shield. Ivan lifted
his own targe to cover his body while the plummeting projectiles thundered on
it.
“Move!” came the command.
Like a terrified beetle, Pattin crouched on the ground
and joined the others, locking his shield with Ivan’s as the company crawled
through the trench, hands and knees bleeding, while avoiding the corpses of
friends who didn’t survive. Away from the onslaught they moved, abandoning
their supplies. Someone would be sent back for them when the sun settled on the
horizon and the two moons rose.
Soon everyone here would have to leave the trenches and
charge at the enemy. That was a standard maneuver, and it was just a matter of
time. Hand to hand combat would kill him, Pattin was certain. With practiced
ease, he could loose an arrow, always striking the mark. But his end would come
by the cold steel of a sword. He hoped it would be tomorrow. He wasn’t ready to
die today.
Maybe Kezia would draw his name and come for him
tonight. Maybe he would live through this bloody war, after all.
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What kind of world ruler would you be?
Ha! This is a loaded question. Thank you, Silver Dagger Blog Tour for posing it to me.
Shall I start my campaign now? Or should I wait until the deep freeze?
In all honesty, I would probably be the worst world leader ever. But then, you can’t be a leader unless someone follows you and I was never very successful at having more than a cluster of children running along behind me.
Why wouldn’t I be a good leader?
- I can’t hear very well. My husband and I spend more time saying “What?” than having a real conversation.
- My voice doesn’t carry. I’ve been to book events and said “Hello” to a dozen people and they walk on by.
- I hate talking in front of an audience. So much, I stutter. I was in a play in high school once. I was the Countess in You Can’t Take it With You. I looked really pretty in this gorgeous dress with a shiny tiara in my hair. I was so nervous I forgot all my lines. It was embarrassing and everyone was mad at me. I never got cast in another part again, thank goodness.
- I find it difficult making a decision. Just the other day I was ordering something from a home-based business, and I changed my mind so many times I flooded them with emails. No one knew what I was ordering.
- When I do make a decision, I think about it afterwards until I conclude I made the wrong decision. Then it’s too late and then I feel guilty.
- I don’t fly. If I had to go to a country overseas, I’d have to take a cruise boat. That would hold up a few meetings, I think.
- As far as the campaign? I detest competition. Once they started slandering me, I’d drop out. I’m not much of a soldier. I am certainly not officer material. I can think of having a backbone. I give my characters in my stories plenty of valor and honor. It’s all wannabe for me. I have inner strength, but rarely does it show outwardly. Unless I’m mad. Then everyone hides.
So. In conclusion, please do not nominate me for world leader. I don’t even want to tell them how to do their job!
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D.L. Gardner is an
award-winning author, artist, filmmaker, and screenwriter with over 28
published works to her credit. Writing and painting are her passions and
fantasy her forte. When she’s not pounding keys on the computer, she’s canning
salsa, picking apples, listening to the voices of critters in the woods, or
watching flowers grow. She loves visiting far-off lands through books by both
reading and writing.
Her genres include all fantasy, historical, and mystery.
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Get to know D.L. through her websites and blogs or send her a message her on Kickstarter.
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Currently a FINALIST (2025 March) in
the Cannes World Wide Film Festival for her screen adaption of her book An
Unconventional Mr. Peadlebody.
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Other awards include Wishing
Shelf book Award 2023 for audio, B.R.A.G. Award 2022 for the Cho Nisi series,
Book Excellence Award 2019 and 2015 for Ian’s Realm and Cassandra’s Castle.
Best Screenplay adaptation from her book Dylan at the Paris Screenplay Awards,
Mile Hill International Screenplay Awards, L.A. Edge Awards, European
Cinematography Awards, and Moondance Film Festival. Best Screenplay Award for
adaptation from her book An Unconventional Mr. Peadlebody at Veers Film
Festival, Best Screenplay Award for adaptation of Ian’s Realm at the Twin Falls
Sandwiches Film Festival and many more.
Website * Newsletter * Facebook * Instagram * Bookbub * Goodreads
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