D.D. Ward is Writing

Chapter Six: Lord and Duke Lord Agnar had not attended the wedding. We had to go to Castle Wulfling to speak with the duke’s younger brother. The game designers had based the Hyperboreans on ancient Norse civilization. I didn’t think that the Vikings had a lot of castles. But there was one thing that I had learned while living in the world of Ossedei. The game designers were not sticklers for accuracy. The castle seemed built in an Anglo-Saxon style. Tapestries hung on the walls, but the castle was as cold as the longhouse. I began to wish I’d brought a shawl. Quincy shuffled at my feet and shivered in excitement.  “Lord Agnar,” Duke Xander stared at the younger man, “You were not at the celebration. And now your brother is dead. It does not look good. What do you say for yourself?” “Duke Agnar. Brother Siggis is dead. Therefore, I am Duke.” “Not yet. The King has not transferred the ducal signet ring or the rank to you yet. He may choose somebody else.” “The duchy is mine by right...

Chapter Five: Monique Lynn eyed the body. “When did this happen?” “Just now. He’s been poisoned.” Monique put a hand to her mouth. I worried she might be sick. She stepped past the crowd and crouched near the body. As she approached, I noticed she had a black eye.  “Husband. I barely knew you. And now you’re gone.” She stood and looked at Lynn. “What do I do now?” Lynn put a hand on Monique’s shoulder. “For now, you wait. If a man is dead from poison, then there are politics at play.” Laila put her hands on her hips. “You dodged a cannonball here, your grace. If he was any sort of a catch, he wouldn’t have to go across the Boro Sea to get a bride. Nobody liked Duke Siggis, he certainly didn’t deserve somebody who looks as good as you.” Monique turned a deep shade of pink at the comments. She touched the bruised eye. “I’m sure my husband wasn’t as bad as all that.” I considered the circumstances for the moment. “Monique? Where were you just now that you didn’t see the commotion when...

Chapter Four: Laila “We should question the person who found the body,” Fiona said.  I picked Ada Gertrudsdottir out of the crowd and waved her over. As Ada walked towards us a young woman pushed through the crowd to join her. The new woman had rich red hair and bright green eyes. She was dressed in a hangerok, a traditional Hyperborean dress that looked like an apron. “Mother, don’t talk to them. You can’t trust their motives.” The young woman said. Ada turned and snorted, “I trust this one. She drinks like an honest warrior.” “Mother. You can’t base trust on drunkenness.” “Laila. Our duke is dead. What am I to do? Nothing?” “Ada,” I said. “Was the duke alive when you saw him? Or did you find him dead?” “He died in front of me. This is why I scream. I have seen many dead bodies in my time. They do not scare me. But I have never had a man die in front of me, bleeding from his eyes and mouth. That is new. And not a good new.” “Mother. Stop.” I turned to face the daughter, “I’m sorry...

Chapter Three: The Body Now Amy and Fiona joined me beside the body of the late Duke Siggis Leifson. The duke had been an unremarkable man. Average height and stocky, he had been neither ugly nor handsome. The blood continued to leak from his open mouth. I noticed that he was bleeding from his eyes as well. The blood pooled in the dirt of the longhouse floor. As I watched Vincent slid through the crowd to stand beside us. His dark skin stood out against the sea of pale Hyperboreans. “This looks like poison.” Fiona said. “Giant scorpion poison I think. It prevents the blood from clotting, which explains the bleeding.” “We’re all drinking from shared bottles.” I looked at the tables and the bottles on the tables, “How does one poison one person in all of this?” Amy hummed for a moment, and then tapped her teeth, “The drinking horn itself could have been poisoned, couldn’t it?” Fiona and I looked at each other, and nodded.  Leon looked around, at the crowd. “Duke Xander. Do you have a...

Chapter Two: Red Eye One Month Earlier One egg yolk. A pinch of salt. A pinch of pepper. A splash of Worcestershire sauce. A splash of hot sauce. One ounce of gin. I closed my eyes and downed the drink in a single gulp. The egg yolk slid down my throat in a wet spicy lump. I remained sitting, eyes closed, head bowed.  I sat at a small table in the bedroom I shared with the two women in my life. Coal heated air warmed the room, and the coal smoke rolled across me smelling like a dirtier cigar smoke.  “Last night was a mistake.” I announced in a voice like cracked pavement. My dachshund Quincy pawed at my leg as I slumped in my chair. I scratched his ears, and his tail fluttered with excitement.  “I did warn you about Scythian snake vodka.” Fiona said, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. “You also reminded me that Scythians look at mild drinkers as weak in spirit.” “Indeed. But I was not encouraging you to get in a drinking contest with my uncle. He is more bear than man....

Chapter One: Drinking Contests "I don't know whether to congratulate the bride or slip her a straight razor. " “Hush Ren,” Lynn put a hand on my shoulder. “This could have been me.” “I know. I nearly died stopping that, remember?” “But now Monique is on the chopping block, and we have to have her back.” “I’ve got her back. I promise,” I said. I stared at the interior of the stave church rather than watch the ceremony. The smell of incense hung in the air. And cloth banners to the Twice Dead Gods hung from the ceiling. The floor was hard packed dirt rather than wood or stone. I stared in dismay at my floor length forest green evening gown. Timber surrounded us on all sides. Ore-pine posts rose up around us. Hyperborean construction, we were on enemy soil.  I didn’t know the bride prior to our diplomatic mission to Hyperborea. But I didn’t like the idea of marrying an Yssian woman to a Hyperborean man. Hyperboreans had archaic ideas about a woman’s place in society. Ys had ...

Act 3: Not the Hero Miriam looked at Dinah. Light from Eve’s flaming wings flashed and flickered across Dinah’s face. The girl stared into the distance. Hollow eyes looking at nothing. Miriam placed a hand on Dinah’s shoulder. Dinah shrugged Miriam’s hand from her shoulder. And then her shoulders slumped. And she crumpled a little.  “I don’t know what to do.” Dinah said. “I don’t know what to do, if I’m not the hero.” “What does being the hero have to do with it?” Miriam asked. Miriam replaced her hand on the girl’s shoulder. And this time Dinah let the hand stay in place.  “You don’t understand.” Dinah said. “That’s all I’ve ever been. I’m the next hero. I’m to make up for my family’s shame. I’m the family’s redemption. And I’m not the hero. So then what?” Miriam turned to look at Eve and Balathasar. She thought about her own fear. She was afraid that she was out of her depth. Dinah was afraid that she was unworthy. Miriam didn’t know how to help with that. “I don’t know what...