by Bret

The Saga of Sweetangel – Part 12

Bit more!

Holiday going well so far, except for an unpleasant sore throat and cold, which is hardly an aid to writing.

Still, at least I don’t have to work- Walking Dead and meatballs it is.

 

Longthorn stifled a gasp of shock,

For within was the Hashmiri called Dhrudj,

A villain he knew from the Navy.

Dhrudj had once been a privateer,

Famed for the harsh treatment of his crewmen,

And for a total lack of mercy.

 

Longthorn’s frigate had been boarded,

During the Battle of Greywater Bay,

And Dhrudj took him as his prisoner.

The Hashmiri had been most cruel,

His prison fetid and his whip busy,

And Longthorn swore vengeance on the cur.

 

Dhrudj and his ally walked away,

Down a trapdoor that led to hidden depths,

So Poulter and Longthorn crept behind.

Turtle followed close behind them,

Staying silent and determined to help,

But scared of what evil they might find.

 

Under the warehouse were tunnels,

A maze of shambling, haphazard mineshafts,

Like the throat of an earthen dragon.

Here and there they met a sentry,

But Poulter did his best work in the dark,

Slipping through the shadows like satin.

 

Time became harder to measure,

As they slashed their way through the torch-lit mine,

Hiding when rail-carts came groaning past.

Finally they heard pickaxes,

And the chilling whisper of rustling chains,

Echoing from a chamber quite vast.

 

 
[sociable]

The Saga of Sweetangel – Part 11

Honestly almost done now!

Don’t forget that you can wang your email address into the box on the right hand side bar to get an email update on each new post!

 

Poulter would brook no more softness,

So he set to the matter of finding,

Striking out through the foggy city.

Their only clue was Cross Alley,

An ill reputed street in the old town,

A dangerous place, far from pretty.

 

The old town was all built on mines,

The source of Saltpetre’s electrum shells,

Under land that once was under sea.

Not all of the mines were legal,

Hidden earthworks under houses and streets,

Unsafe tunnels littered with debris.

 

Not many Dirtlings would work them,

So it was easier just to use slaves,

Which are easily snatched from the streets.

Nobody misses the lost ones,

Nobody cares if the tunnels collapse,

And the business of business repeats.

 

Cross Alley looked empty of life,

But for a lone man smoking a cigar,

So Poulter and Longthorn followed him.

Quietly they stepped through shadows,

Until the man entered an old warehouse,

Where he met with a stranger most grim.

 
[sociable]

The Saga of Sweetangel – Part 10

It’s my week off this week!

Lots of work to get done, so I’ll be posting bits of Sweetangel to save myself some time.

Enjoy- excuse me while I jam my head into work mode.

 

Poulter gave a cough at that time,

Then with a shudder he rose from the bed,

His face pale and as tight as a drum.

“Did you save my life?” asked Poulter,

“My chest is a cauldron of pain,” he said,

“And I was sure that my time had come.”

 

“You’ll live for a while,” said Mama,

“I fixed your heart, but you need to fill it,”

“Or you won’t last more than a tenday.”

“Thank you Mama Grave,” said Poulter,

“I consider your debt to me fulfilled,”

“Ten days is more than I can repay.”

 

Mama Grave bid them all farewell,

And gave young Turtle a good-luck bone charm,

Which reminded Longthorn of her words.

“Poulter,” he said, “Listen to me,”

“Sweetangel is just a ghost we conjure,”

“To shift blame and to cope with our hurts.”

 

“The fact is, your wife met her end,”

“It’s a tragedy I wish I could salve,”

“But the villains we seek are real.”

“It may be too late for your wife,”

“But we can still rescue Frog for Turtle,”

“And maybe then your heart can heal.”

 

“Mr. Poulter,” whispered Turtle,

“I believe that you’ll live if you help me,”

“And I believe that Frog can be saved.”

Poulter replied: “You two can stop,”

“I took this case already, didn’t I?”

“I will not let the child be enslaved.”

 

 

[sociable]