Tuesday Tales: Writing Grim by Flossie Benton Rogers

“Then stealing with the muffled oar,
Far shaded by the rocky shore,
Rush the night-prowlers on the prey.”
from The Giaour, Lord Byron

Tuesday Tales is a weekly blog featuring diverse authors who post excerpts from their WIPs based on word and picture prompts. Our word prompt today is grim, and the snippet is from a paranormal historical romance set in ancient Ireland during the historical origins of the fae culture. Please visit the other fabulous authors at Tuesday Tales.

     The chieftain thrust out his hand as if to prevent her retort. “Aedar captured you. I, Sreng, as Chieftain of the Firbolg, place you in Aedar’s charge. Follow his orders, understand?”
     Lightheaded, Seraphina nodded, releasing a deep breath.
     After such a traumatic beginning, she stayed well away from Sreng and all the men.
     Aedar erected a rough tent for her and left her to her own devices most often, after a stern reminder that she was not to speak or get involved with anyone. “If you give me cause, I’d just as soon tie you to a post and leave you to the buzzards.”
     For some reason that callous pronouncement had burned the back of her eyes before a streak of adrenalin shot up her spine. It got her out of the strange lassitude that had come over her, brought on by shock she guessed. Leave her to the buzzards, would he? Mister high and mighty warrior had another think coming. She would watch and learn, and gain her freedom when he wasn’t looking. Escape would be her middle name.
     Still, she breathed a sigh of relief when he set up his bedding just outside the tent.
     There were few women and no young children in the camp. Once when she and Aedar were alone, she asked about it and he explained they were safely tucked away further inland. “The Tuath have pushed us from our shoreline and into the hills,” he said with bitterness permeating his voice. “Those of us remaining, that is.”
     On the fourth day Symeon and the horse boy came riding in. Aedar rushed over, and she followed, despite his gesture to the contrary. Aedar reached up to help a flagging Symeon dismount. “What about Umor?”
     A grim twist deformed the older man’s mouth. “No sign of him. I doubled back twice to look for him but by then…” Groaning, he clutched his side.
     She quailed at the sight and smell of the blood on Symeon’s tunic.
     He stumbled and likely would have fallen without Aedar’s assistance. Several Firbolg men crowded around, and Aedar passed Symeon over to them. “Take him to his tent. Careful now. Dress his wound. I’ll be right along.”
     She tugged at Aedar’s sleeve, and he turned upon her with a fierce look. She knew she wasn’t supposed to speak for fear they would think she was bespelling them, but this was an urgent situation.
When he bent down, putting his ear near her mouth, she whispered, “I may be able to help.”

Thanks so much for stopping by. I hope you enjoyed my excerpt with today’s word prompt, grim. Please visit the other fabulous authors at Tuesday Tales.

Cheers & Happy Reading!
Flossie Benton Rogers, Conjuring the Magic with Paranormal Romance