Showing posts with label The Amber Cage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Amber Cage. Show all posts

Thursday, November 12, 2015

Thursday - My Heroes, Heroines and Villains - The Amber Cage #MFRWauthor #fantasyromance

The heroine - Aria


Aria sat in the audience chamber near the dais where a pair of thrones stood. Her father, King Palos, stood to sing the pronouncements for the last case of the day presented for judgment. His magnificent tenor vocalized the decision. She heard a slight waver. She clasped her hands to control the tremors. The end of his time as ruler of Harmony had begun.

She stared around the room. She would never rule alone for though her soprano voice held a rich and extended range she had no skill with composition. Her ability to use musical instruments was average though she excelled in strings. Aria drew a deep breath. She knew where her duty lay. How she wished there would be love in the marriage she must make but she would do her duty to Harmony.

The moment the audience ended her father came to her. He placed his hands on her shoulders. “You 
The sadness in his voice spoke of his need for comfort as well as his gift of the same to her. “I know and I am duty bound.”

The king sighed. “So many generations have passed since the heir to the throne had to wed for duty rather than for love.”

The rich tenor held the birr she’s heard earlier. Soon the entire kingdom would know the king had reached the end of his rule and would become Emeritus.

Aria stepped away. She drew a deep breath. Her answer flowed on pure soprano notes. “Though I yearn for love I will do as I must. I pray a man with a strong voice and talent in the other areas will sit at my side. A man whose melodies will blend with mine.”

Paulus kissed her brow. “You must gather your clothes. The special wardrobe, bed, table and chairs are being carried to the forecourt.” His notes held deep sadness. “I go to fetch the Pipes of Discord.”

“The Pipes. The Pipes of Discord will seal my fate.” Her soprano echoed her father’s emotions.know what lies ahead.”

Aria rubbed her arms. Once her father played the strange instrument she would remain in the amber cage until a man appeared to turn discord into melody. The man who claimed her hand would excel in composition and have a mastery over musical instruments and voice. Hope and fear caused her heart to pound with the booming depth of the sound of a kettle drum.

She gathered simple gowns she could don with no help for she would be alone. When her choices had been made she called the servants. She followed them to the forecourt where they hung the clothes on one side of the wardrobe. The other side was a small room where she could wash, dress and attend to private needs.

Servants brought a bed. Aria stared. Curtains enclosed the space but she was glad she'd packed no nightshifts. Sleeping in her clothes made sense since she would be where she could be seen.
A frown wrinkled her brow. Though she’d read tales of the amber cage she had no idea how food, drink and water would appear. Was magic involved?

Words tumbled in her thoughts. Questions and ponderings that needed music to make them complete. How she wished for the skill to change sad thoughts into a solo. Alas, the music remained trapped between her head and her heart. She placed her lute on the table. The instrument was a necessity. She would need to strum chords for the short recitatives exchanged with her father and the curious who came to view her and the cage. Would the man she would wed arrive soon?

Her father approached. She saw The Pipes of Discord. He held the bag over his shoulder and the mouthpiece beside his cheek. She walked toward him.

“Are you ready?” he sang.

She gulped a breath. “I will miss our quiet times.” Notes of sadness colored her song.

“As I will miss you, my brave daughter. The Academy is prepared to judge those who will try to qualify. Summons have been sent to every corner of the land. Already men flock into town and take a number for their place in the line of aspirants.”


The Hero - Ivor

With a jarring thud, breath escaped Ivor’s lungs with a whoosh. He landed on grass and old leaves. At least he hadn’t banged his head on the gnarled roots of a tree he’d never seen before. Where was he? The question circled in his thoughts. He eased to a sitting position with his back against the massive bole. His gaze swept his surroundings. A clearing in a forest of unfamiliar trees. Some were conifers and others hardwoods. The fullness of the canopy meant the season here was akin to the world on the other side of the amber mist.

A smile threatened to split his dry lips. He was alive and he was free. Andros had the position he’s always wanted. Soft laughter flowed. Being alive wasn’t enough. He needed people to hear his music. Once the gems from the hilt of his sword were gone he had to find a way to earn coins. If he remained where he’d landed only birds and forest creatures would hear all the melodies swirling in his thoughts.

Slowly he pushed to his feet. He bent and grasped the flute lying on the grass near where he’d fallen. He made his way through the forest until he reached a wide path that appeared to begin just yards beyond where he stood. He trudged until the trees thinned.

A faint sound of music caused him to walk faster. He hoped to find an inn where food and drink were served. He was famished and parched. After passing a row of cottages he saw a sign featuring a painted lyre. He pushed open the door. Savory aromas surrounded him. His stomach growled.

A rotund man approached. “Greetings, sir. How can I help you?” He sang the words in a pleasant baritone.

“I’m newly come. I seek food and drink. I don’t have any coins.” Ivor pointed to the gems on his sword. “Would one of these be payment for food and a room?”

The man clasped Ivor’s hand. “Have you no singing voice?” He pointed to the flute. “Are you just familiar with instruments and do not know how to sing?”

Ivor drew a deep breath and let his words flow tenor pure. “My name is Ivor. I sing. I play. I write new melodies and sometimes the words.”

The innkeeper bowed. “I see. I see. Since you are a stranger to the land I will have you stay at my inn. One of the gems will grant you room and board for a month or more. Come and sit. Food and ale you will have.”

Ivor sat at one of the tables and tasted the savory stew. Though the flavors were different from the ones he knew the food tasted delicious and eased his hunger.

As he sipped the ale he heard a lilting soprano singing a song that evoked sadness. “Who is singing?” he caroled.

“The Princess Aria. One day she will be our queen. Have you come to Harmony to enter the competition?” the innkeeper sang.

“What do you mean?”

“Many men with talents musical have come from all corners of the land. To stand a chance to gain her hand only the best will do. The chosen one must excel in vocalizing, instruments and in composition.”

Ivor frowned. “Music seems to be important to the land.”

“It is a most important element. The princess awaits he who can free her from the amber cage.” The innkeeper’s voice rang loud and deep.

“Amber cage?” Was that why he’d been sent here, but he had no desire to rule a land. “I fled my home. My father forced me to give up music. If I desired the rule I could no longer sing or play.”

The innkeeper laughed. “Here in Harmony matters are quite different.”

“What about those who fail?”

“If they have a talent into the Academy they will be accepted.” The man sang. “For those who have high scores in just one area an appointment as Maestro will be made. Then they can either perform or teach. The man or men who excel in all areas will be given a chance to turn the sounds of the Pipes of Discord into melody.”

Ivor slid his fingers along the flute. Though he had no desire to rule if he could find a place in this Academy where he could compose, sing and play he wouldn’t have to wander to pay his way. “Where can I go to learn more?”

The Villain - Odon

Her thoughts turned toward the basso. Odon’s attitude reeked of arrogance and frightened her. Her eyes widened. The barrel-chested man strutted across the lawn.

“How fare thee, fair Aria.”

His deep vocalized greeting brought images of operas where the villain strove to capture the heroine and carry her to his lair. She sought words to respond but none appeared.
He was handsome enough if she liked men with granite carved features, massive shoulders and a permanent sneer. His physique aided the production of notes so deep they sent chills riding her spine.

“I am fine.” The waver in her notes belied her answer.

“I hear eagerness in your voice. You will be pleased to hear I added a second in voice to my first in instruments.” He grasped the bars with meaty fists. “Soon you will be mine. You will be mine, mine, mine.”

If the Goddess Euphonia would hear her prayers he would fail. “I will be yours only if the pipes answer to your touch.”

“How can they not? I am a master extraordinaire of all musical instruments. Under my touch discord will become melody. Harmony is my kingdom. The riches of the land will be mine, mine, mine.”
The last of his low notes wavered in the air. He turned and strolled away.

Tears burned Aria’s eyes. What would she do if he won? One thing became clear. Odon was not a man to take failure well.

Feeling like a caged beast she prowled the cage. How she yearned to leave this confinement but not if Odon mastered the pipes and won. Could Turan, the second of the leading contenders be the one?

Thursday, June 18, 2015

Thursday's Villain - Odon from The Amber Cage - Amber Chronicles by Janet Lane Walters #fantasy #MFRWauthor

Aria sipped the remainder of the wine provided with the dinner that had appeared on the table. Three more days, hundreds or forever to remain in this amber cage. The competition for the chance to turn discord into melody would end and she dreaded the moment. What if whoever won the chance failed? Worse, what if a man she detested won?

Her thoughts turned toward the basso. Odon’s attitude reeked of arrogance and frightened her. Her eyes widened. The barrel-chested man strutted across the lawn.

“How fare thee, fair Aria.”

His deep vocalized greeting brought images of operas where the villain strove to capture the heroine and carry her to his lair. She sought words to respond but none appeared.

He was handsome enough if she liked men with granite carved features, massive shoulders and a permanent sneer. His physique aided the production of notes so deep they sent chills riding her spine.

“I am fine.” The waver in her notes belied her answer.

“I hear eagerness in your voice. You will be pleased to hear I added a second in voice to my first in instruments.” He grasped the bars with meaty fists. “Soon you will be mine. You will be mine, mine, mine.”

If the Goddess Euphonia would hear her prayers he would fail. “I will be yours only if the pipes answer to your touch.”

“How can they not? I am a master extraordinaire of all musical instruments. Under my touch discord will become melody. Harmony is my kingdom. The riches of the land will be mine, mine, mine.”

The last of his low notes wavered in the air. He turned and strolled away.


Tears burned Aria’s eyes. What would she do if he won? One thing became clear. Odon was not a man to take failure well.

Thursday, January 22, 2015

Thursday's Heroine - Aria from The Amber Cage by Janet Lane Walters #MFRWauthor #BooksWeLove

Aria sat in the audience chamber near the dais where a pair of thrones stood. Her father, King Palos, stood to sing the pronouncements for the last case of the day presented for judgment. His magnificent tenor vocalized the decision. She heard a slight waver. She clasped her hands to control the tremors. The end of his time as ruler of Harmony had begun.

She stared around the room. She would never rule alone for though her soprano voice held a rich and extended range she had no skill with composition. Her ability to use musical instruments was average though she excelled in strings. Aria drew a deep breath. She knew where her duty lay. How she wished there would be love in the marriage she must make but she would do her duty to Harmony.

The moment the audience ended her father came to her. He placed his hands on her shoulders. “You know what lies ahead.”

The sadness in his voice spoke of his need for comfort as well as his gift of the same to her. “I know and I am duty bound.”

The king sighed. “So many generations have passed since the heir to the throne had to wed for duty rather than for love.”

The rich tenor held the birr she’s heard earlier. Soon the entire kingdom would know the king had reached the end of his rule and would become Emeritus.

Aria stepped away. She drew a deep breath. Her answer flowed on pure soprano notes. “Though I yearn for love I will do as I must. I pray a man with a strong voice and talent in the other areas will sit at my side. A man whose melodies will blend with mine.”

Paulus kissed her brow. “You must gather your clothes. The special wardrobe, bed, table and chairs are being carried to the forecourt.” His notes held deep sadness. “I go to fetch the Pipes of Discord.”

“The Pipes. The Pipes of Discord will seal my fate.” Her soprano echoed her father’s emotions.

Aria rubbed her arms. Once her father played the strange instrument she would remain in the amber cage until a man appeared to turn discord into melody. The man who claimed her hand would excel in composition and have a mastery over musical instruments and voice. Hope and fear caused her heart to pound with the booming depth of the sound of a kettle drum.

She gathered simple gowns she could don with no help for she would be alone. When her choices had been made she called the servants. She followed them to the forecourt where they hung the clothes on one side of the wardrobe. The other side was a small room where she could wash, dress and attend to private needs.

Servants brought a bed. Aria stared. Curtains enclosed the space but she was glad she'd packed no nightshifts. Sleeping in her clothes made sense since she would be where she could be seen.

A frown wrinkled her brow. Though she’d read tales of the amber cage she had no idea how food, drink and water would appear. Was magic involved?

Words tumbled in her thoughts. Questions and ponderings that needed music to make them complete. How she wished for the skill to change sad thoughts into a solo. Alas, the music remained trapped between her head and her heart. She placed her lute on the table. The instrument was a necessity. She would need to strum chords for the short recitatives exchanged with her father and the curious who came to view her and the cage. Would the man she would wed arrive soon?

Her father approached. She saw The Pipes of Discord. He held the bag over his shoulder and the mouthpiece beside his cheek. She walked toward him.

“Are you ready?” he sang.

She gulped a breath. “I will miss our quiet times.” Notes of sadness colored her song.

“As I will miss you, my brave daughter. The Academy is prepared to judge those who will try to qualify. Summons have been sent to every corner of the land. Already men flock into town and take a number for their place in the line of aspirants.”

Aria watched her father stride to the steps. Members of the palace staff, the king’s advisors and the noble families stood behind him. Guards formed a line around the square of grass where the cage would appear.

The king primed the pipes and pressed the mouthpiece between his lips and played. No song but ear-hurting noises like the squalling of fighting cats, the screams of a dying rabbit and the growls of forest beasts filled the air. The cacophony caused Aria to press her hands against her ears. Her muscles and joints screamed with pain.

The ground beneath her trembled. Aria’s eyes widened. A slab of amber covered the grass beneath her feet. Along the four sides bars rose to a height at least thrice hers. From the bars amber flowed and met over her head.

“I am enclosed. I am entrapped. I am a prisoner until the man who possesses the three talents needed by a ruler arrives.” Her soprano notes rose above the screeching instrument.

“She is enclosed. She is entrapped. She waits for her rescuer to arrive.” The great mass of people sang in chorus echoing her plaintive song.

Her father approached the bars. He stretched his arm through the narrow space. “It is done, my brave daughter. And now we wait.” His voice reached its lowest register.

“Now I wait. I wait for the man who can turn discord into melody.”


Thursday, February 6, 2014

Thursday's Opening Scene - The Amber Cage from Amber Chronicles by Janet Lane Walters

The Amber Cage

The wailing notes of the bagpipes lingered in the air. Ivor, Crown Prince of Rivand gasped deep breaths. He grinned. “Did I pass?” He squeezed the words out.
The old man smiled. “You have. Shame you can’t pursue what could be a brilliant career as a master of music.”
Ivor bowed his head. His passion for music overshadowed his birth order dictated. The spotlight wasn’t for him.
The bells of the town clock chimed ten times. Ivor scowled. “I’ll be late for my morning meeting with my twin.” He dashed from the music room and ran through the hallsof the palace to the salle.
Moments later, he donned the protective gear and drew his sword from the sheath. Time to face his brother in another senseless match. He had no taste for the fighting life his twin savored.
Andros raised his sword. “Ready to lose again.”
The glee in his twin’s voice rasped Ivor’s nerves. He hated these forced encounters. As crown prince martial arts must be mastered so he could leave the troops of Rivand if the country came under attack by one of the neighboring princedoms.
He had learned the movement of the danceof the sword and had practiced until they had become automatic. Fighting was alien to his nature. He feared suffering an injury to hands able to play any instrument. He shuddered as all the possibilities arose. A head injury could destroy the melodies waiting to emerge. What if a lucky blow harmed his throat to making singing impossible?
Andros attacked. Ivor defended. His twin was a master or the blade, excelled in strategy and was a superb negotiator. Andros embodied every skill a crown prince needed.
Ivor scowled. Had they been switched during the hectic moments following their birth?
The sighe of Andros’ lunge pulled Ivor into the present. He tried to turn the duel into a real fight. His brother’s blade neared his chest. Ivor froze. His sword flew through the air.
Andros laughed. “My win.”
Ivor nodded. “As usual.”
“Ivor!”
His body tensed. He stared toward the observation area overlooking the salle. Why was his father present during every defeat? He knelt with his head bowed.
“To my study now.” Prince Gregori shouted.
Ivor retrieved his sword and slid the blade into the sheath. His twin’s mocking laughter agraded. Ivor’s hands clenched. He faced an angry tirade when all he wanted was to return to the music chamber and work on his latest composition, Lament For The Lost Princes.
The solstice was but four days away. On that date he would join the ranks of the vanished. Even now the moon moved toward full. Being lost seemed better than being the next ruler of Rivand.
He entered his father’s study and knelt at the feet of the ruling prince. He waited for the angry comments focusing on the qualities for his position he lacked.
“Was there ever a time when you defeated Andros in a friendly match? You are Crown Prince. You must be first in all important matters.”
Ivor drew a shuddering breath. “What does how I perform matter? The solstice looms. The moon will be full. I will soon vanish like the other lost princes.”
Gregori scowled. “You will be guarded and will be wed. On the morning of the summer solstice you will marry. Your bride arrives tomorrow.” He lifted a stack of papers. “These will burn.”
“No!: Ivor recognized his compositions. Anger he couldn’t express tightened his throat. To speak would fire his father’s temper. Already his back burned with memories of floggings received for his failures. Acid rushed into his throat. He swallowed to keep from spewing.
“I rule here until I die. Then you will have your turn.” Prince Gregori shoved the papers into the fireplace and lit them with a glowing candle. “Tonight your instruments will burn. Rivand needs no music-performing fool as a ruler.”
“Let Andros rule. He’s better suited. Perhaps the midwife forgot which of us arrived first on the day we were born.”
“Do not think to escape your duty. You are dismissed.”
Ivor bowed. “I hear.” He backed from the room. Rebellion stirred. How could he see the things that brought him pleasure be destroyed?
He scurried to the music chamber. His teacher stood with his hands to his head. “I couldn’t stop him.”
“I know. ‘Twas not your fault.” Ivor pulled the most valuable lutes, fiddles and lap harps from the shelves. He added a few reeds and brass horns to the collection. “Give these to your most promising students. My father plans to destroy them tonight.”
“Why?”
“To rule I must forsake music.” Ivor slid his favorite flute into the sheath with his sword, taking care notto scratch the silver on the gemmed hilt. “Go quickly.” He pushed a wheeled hand cart to the rear door.
The moment the teacher left Ivor opened the door into the hall. His twin pushed past him. “What have you done?”
“Gave some gifts to the worthy.”
“Father said all the instruments are to be destroyed.
Ivor glared. “Go tell him what I’ve done. Don’t fear. You will have my place.”
“What do you mean?”
“The lost princes. Already I feel a need to leave the palace. I’ll be glad to be gone. Without music Rivand is no place for me.”
Andros smiled. “I pray your words are true. I won’t report what you’ve done.”


Monday, October 28, 2013

Meandering On Monday with Janet Lane Walters


Meander 1 Saturday was a total bust. There was no water at the house because of a water main break. I had planned to go to a friend's book signing but I couldn't wash my face or brush my teeth. There'd been no warning so one could store water. Interesting since I'd also planned what I was going to feed the grandchildren when they arrived for the evening. Didn't happen. Ordered Chinese and they ate well. The water is not on but we have to boil it before we use it. There is a number I will call to see if this has changed. Was not a happy camper to have my plans changed.

Meander 2 Been reading the books I received at the conference last week. All but one were decent reads. The one was well-written but I had the plot figured out not far into the book and the repetition troubled. Me. I really must this week get to the scoring of some books I read. Interesting group of books and not ones I usually enjoy but I read them and my scoring is done.

As to my writing. I'm typing the draft of Rekindled Dreams and will get it off to someone to read. Critique group has spooked me a bit and also I needed to change the ending a bit. Am now working on The Amber Cage and it is a strange story in some ways but I like it. Rough draft is coming close to the word length I want. That is a plus. No chapters here but scenes. There are five to block in and the ending is interesting. From there I must get the other stories into place and get it ready to send to BWL. Healwoman is free for the final day. The numbers have been good and that's a plus.

Monday, September 16, 2013

Meandering on Monday with Janet Lane Walters

 Meander 1 - When does teasing become bullying? This has become for me something I have been thinking about and I think I've been bullied. I've been a published author since 1968 and have an extensive back list. I have also been retired from nursing for many years. One or more people have taken to saying I write books with the speed of light. This isn't true and I have said on a number of occasions I do not like this. The response is "I'm just teasing." If I say this bothers me why do these people continue to say this. I'm to the point where I want to draw back from the entire group though there are not many who say the above about my writing. What I do is sit down and write every day going over my goal for the day. I also have as many hours during the day to write. I do not dilly dally. I plan my stories and it takes weeks to months depending on the length of the story. As to the comments, I will confront the person who is the major culprit. Does she really admire me? Of this I am not sure. But when teasing continues after a person states they do not like this, it becomes bullying. This I really believe.

Meander 2 - Have covers for two of my re-released books but can't print them out. Tried but this failed.

Meander 3 - Typing Rekindled Dreams a story about Cancer heroine who was a nurse and hated the job and an Aries cop who can't tolerate incompetent bosses. They are re-connecting after 10 years. She is seven months divorced and nine months pregnant. He walked away after their high school graduation because she wouldn't have sex. She also married his cousin who was his enemy. Can they find love again?

Am drafting the final story in the Amber Chronicles about a prince who loves music more than anything and the witch who wants him to love her. If he refuses he will be sent to another world. This story is called The Amber Cage.