The frail woman drew the great curtains

My Baptist roots (or is it my Scandinavian ones) cry out that one should not have this much fun. Hah! Hah! I say. So long as God sends fun I will enjoy it.

This afternoon I wrote the scene of the assassination attempt (the one with the snake and the chalice). Dramatic as all get out and such fun to write! Woohoo.

This evening I picked up the thread of the civil war at another venue, then moved into another assassination attempt, this one successful. And utterly vile. But the princess' niece, the little princess, gets spirited to safety. Still, quite creepalicious. Chapter fifty-two is now done.

Some boatmen while away the time with idle chatter and some are taciturn. The one who carried the princess to the east bank of the [river] was given to gab. It may have been a merciful gift of the stars that he was not the one to carry the killer across the next morning. The handsome man in black, now displaying the closely trimmed beard and soulless eyes earlier hidden by the goddess’ veil, crossed in another vessel, reclaimed his horse with a silver coin, and rode north toward G. He wanted to send word to T. but knew he could not pass through the army of F. to do so. He would send word by coded message through a peasant willing to cross the river and bring good news to the Silver Stallion. He only needed someone willing to risk his life for a silver coin and the promise of another. Fools were plentiful in the world and one would surely be found.

Sigh, crafting good literature is an awesome calling and hard work. Telling a tale is much easier and I am so grateful I am pursuing the latter.

Sweet dreams, my mellifluous mergansers.

--the BB