I have completed 40,000 words of this novel, with help from Jonathan Stone and the Scottish Poets James L.S. Carter and Scott F. Here is a draft excerpt.
CHAPTER 1: TRIANGLE OF LOVE
I am
Vanessa, the White Witch of the
Esk Burn and a reader of minds
for Catherine, the All-Seeing Eye, who resides with
Fortuna, the Roman Goddess of Chance and
Fortune, on the Star of Vespasia.
The Etruscan witches of Lothian originate
from Cramond, and their European forbears pre-dated the
Roman republic. They worship nature, and
collect herbs and spices to cure the animals,
the birds, and the people. Many
Christians persecute us and say bad things about us, because they
want to control mankind while abusing nature.
I bring
you a comic tragedy of a saga which
focuses on the Christian
knight, Sir Richard de Liddell. It is
about the kaleidoscope of enigmatic souls who entered
hither and wither into the contrasting phases of
Richard's life, which move wither and hither
between the high ground and the deep depths, and about
the manner in which his fortunes were affected by
divinely inspired chance in ways that will make your
hair bristle in horrence.
Beware, ye
citizens of the future, of a dire warning from the Vates themselves!
Do not feel tempted to visit the scant remains of the House on the
Holy Trinity on Scotland's Soutra Hill under any circumstances. Why
not? Because the black eschar dust which causes the dreaded sheep's
sweat is still mixed in the soil. The black eschar dust which killed
so many patients in the great medical hospitals on the Soutra remains
there until eternity. waiting to destroy any poor soul who might
besmirch his hands with it.
Sir
Richard De Liddell adored his wife the Lady Ingibiorg who he met
outside St Magnus Cathedral in Kirkwall on Orkney in 1430. Ever since
that first stroll around the ancient
stones of the Ring of
Brodgar, he'd
adored the way she walked, the way she talked, and
the way she stalked through the gardens of Hungus House hunting the
mice, grass-snakes
and ferrets.
Sir
Richard cherished his squire Cedric de
Porthos who he met while on a tour of
duty of
Gascony
in 1435.
He cherished the way he rode, the way he strode, and the way he
recited rich ballads
from his childhood in the Pyrenees.
Lady
Ingibiorg loved her husband Sir Richard for his manliness, his
prowess, and his dedication to the Scottish realm. She cherished
Cedric for his impertinence,
his dedication to his friendships, and
the way he leapt feet-first
off his pony Augustus onto
her doorstep.
Cedric loved Lady Ingibiorg for her kindness, her beauty, and
her willingness to cook cakes and dainty pastries to tempt his palate
and his mind. He adored Sir Richard for everything he was.
Such
was their Scottish-Orcadian-Aquitanian triangle of love, a
love which transcended all human desire, a love of which all the
ancient gods, whether Greek, Roman or Viking, would have been
envious.
During
the Summer of 1436, the passions became more intense, and the Roman
goddesses banqueted
on their gilded
couches and held their breathe.
'Twas during the
early hours of St. Achilleus's Day during September 1436 that Sir
Richard set off southwards astride his battle horse Xanthos for the
evocative slopes of the Soutra Hill, from his higgledy-piggledy,
curiously designed house on Queen Maud Walk in fair Embro. Sir
Richard was accompanied by his French squire Cedric de Porthos who
was riding his new pony Augustus with the eagerness of precocious
youth.
At age
twenty-six, sandy-haired Richard was now becoming a touch more brawny
and thickset, but he well remembered the Halcyon days when he was as
lithe and clean-limbed as black-haired Cedric. Richard was such a
prankster in those days. He once spent a night in the Canongate
Tollbooth, after decking Squire Mackay's clothes line with petticoats
and pretty knickers. This caused an almighty radge between the worthy
squire and his wife, and a riot among the ladies in the street.
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