The Adventures of Ahribar
The Review
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Chapter One
I watched with interest as the car came closer. It was one of the new Saltwhistle Merits, its violet paint so clean that you had to look at it out of the corner of your eye to avoid being pierced by a sudden lance of reflected sunlight. The remnants of a covering of snow still huddled on its roof; its headlights glowed dimly, as though they were tired from being pushed to the limit of their strength on a long journey. That was something exciting. I began to think of a spicy dinner in front of the fire as we listened to the traveller's news; it would bring a welcome touch of variety to our quiet lives.You will be showing this in later paragraphs. No need to spoil it for the readers so early
He brought the car to a halt outside the gate, as I knew he would. Our farm was a mile or two off the road from Zibolatre to the port town of Sternok, I need a map...badly and the only cars that ever came down the bumpy side road were those that had been attracted by our sign.What does the sign say? "Rest stop" or something? We did lunches for travellers to bring in a bit of extra trade, and to hear news from faraway places. It wasn't often that anyone stopped by, so this visitor was particularly welcome.Could be much better as We havent had many travelers as of late, so this visitor was particularly welcome
He brought the car to a halt outside the gate and stepped out, as I knew he would. He was getting out of the car; A bulky man of medium height and approaching the end of his middle age. No passengers. Smartly dressed which didn't surprise me; there's not much point in driving a Merit if your clothes make you look like a lion-tamer who's not very skilled in avoiding the range of a claw.I dont understand As he stood there sizing me up, his fingers seemed to be fidgeting an awful lot around the edge of his pocket, and for a moment I wondered whether he was thinking of pulling out a gun. But he really didn't look the type – just not quite respectable enough, with that unkempt beard and a thin sliver of stubble around his upper lip. It made a most curious combination with his smart clothes; I found myself with a feeling I didn't like at all, that of suddenly having no idea what sort of person this was or how to react to him.
“Hey, you there,” he said, after a few seconds. “I want the owner of this place. Can you fetch him?”
I bowed to him. “Certainly, sir,” I said. “Please step inside.” I led him to the front entrance and left him in the care of Fuchsia, Mr Tasker's younger daughter, while I went to find the man himself.Having read through this already, it doesnt seem Fuchia plays that big of a role. You can easily replace her with any one member of the Tasker family without disrupting anything. I would recommend you delete Fuchsia from the story, she seems to slow it down. He was busy in the dairy, but he'd been working hard that morning and was ready for a break, so we went back to introduce ourselves to our guest together.Makes me confused a bit, can be better as I found Mr. Tasker working in the dairy, where he had just finished his morning chores, and brought him to the entrance to greet our guest
“Gabriel Tasker, at your service,” he said, very politely. “And your name is...?”
“You can call me Richard,” said the guest. “I come from Queltar, up in the north, you know.”
“Come for our lunch?” Richard nodded; so that was settled. There was a brief discussion about price, and we went together into the parlour. It was already close to lunchtime, so we found Charlie there laying the table. Gabriel sent him to tell Mrs Tasker, who was cooking, that we had one person extra for the meal.Too passive. Can be improved by putting dialogue "Son, can you please tell your mother that we have one person extra for the meal?" Charlie nodded, and swiftly vanished into the kitchen.
He sat Richard down close to the fire, and sat himself opposite; I drifted quietly into a seat at the end of the table and listened to their talk.
“Queltar,” Gabriel said thoughtfully. “That's Slinteye territory, isn't it? We had a guest a few months ago from near there, told us they'd been organising demonstrations and riots. What are they up to these days?”
Richard narrowed his eyes and tapped his thumb against the table. “What aren't they up to, more like!” he said. “The place has been in chaos ever since the Selhajek arbenition.Umm...Huh? Every day you hear of people shot in the street and everyone's too scared to do a damn thing about it. That's why I'm moving out; I'm off to Sternok to find a new place for the family to live, and they'll be following on after me. It's no place to bring up a young girls these days.”
“You have a family?” I asked.
“Two girls, three and nine. You'd think no-one would harm such a young child, but my friend old Vaneige was found killed in his own house last week, and they gunned down his whole family too. Not a close friend of ours, but his Kenyon was friends with my Lorelli, and it breaks my heart to see how cut up she's been over it.”Hmm, I would suggest that you put some indication that he's upset about this, like a long silence with him staring into the fire or something
“I'm sorry to hear that.” Empty words, but I couldn't think what else to say.
“Well, it's good of you to say so,” he said sadly. “You have no idea how glad I am to have someone to talk to; in Queltar no-one wants to hear about your troubles, because they've all got too many of their own. Parents killed, brothers missing or children terrified out of their minds – it's a nightmare, it truly is.”We can see that it is, no need to tell us. Here would be a good place for Athribar to give us a brief history of everything. Since Athribar is telling this story for an audience that has no idea about the political situation, why not have him explain it briefly so that us readers are not lost. Its very bad to get your readers confused and frustrated anywhere in the story, especially this early on
The kettle boiled just then, so I hastened to fill Richard's teacup. “But why?” I asked him. “Why are they doing this, I mean? What are the Slinteyes after?”
As I bent over his cup, I suddenly found Richard looking deep into my eyes, and I felt uncomfortable. “They're after the same things everyone is after,” he said. “Money and power – and safety. Safety from the guns of their own leaders, that is, who wouldn't hesitate to shoot them if they disobeyed an order. And those leaders have someone with a gun in their backs, and you can bet ten farthings to a silver horse there's someone at back of it all who's not happy with his share of the power in this world.”
“Someone?” I said, trying to make the question sound casual. “Doesn't anyone know who these people are?”
“I'm not talking about the figureheads,” said Richard. “I'm not talking about the people like Kevin Jaffa and Lou Robinson who get quoted in the papers saying pretty words about freedom and justice, and have flowers strewn under their feet every time they stroll down to the corner shop. They organise the troops and give the actual orders, but there's someone behind them financing the operation, and they keep themselves hidden.”
“Freedom and justice? For whom?”
“Well,” he said thoughtfully, “there were a lot of people got disrupted or had their livelihoods spoiled by the arbenition. The Slinteyes worked up a storm about it, blaming the king and his government, getting people riled up against them, But if you want my opinion, though the agents themselves may think they're fighting for freedom and justice, the people behind them don't give an armadillo dropping. It's just what they tell people to get them to join up. It's a convenient excuse.”
I had poured tea for Gabriel and myself by this time, and the farmer was staring into his teacup as though trying to blot our conversation out from his world. “My... my son,” he mumbled.
Richard turned to look at him. “I'm sorry?”
“My son Charles, whom you met just now,” said Gabriel. “A group of them "Them"? do you mean Slinteyes?came recruiting last year and they've got him very fired up about the whole thing. I've tried to talk him out of it, but you know what they're like at that age. Or maybe you don't, if since yours are younger.”
“Always the same,” said Richard. “They get them into it when they're too young to understand what they're really getting into, and when you try to argue it out of them they say you're just an old fogey and don't know what you're talking about.”
Gabriel nodded. “You can try it on him if you like,” he said, nodding his head towards the door. “He's just coming back.”
Sure enough, the door crashed open, and Charlie charged through to tell us the meal was ready."The meal is ready father" he said.“Go and fetch the girls, Jasmine then,” said Gabriel. “And try to be a bit less...” But his words trailed off; Charlie was already gone.
We sat in silence for a while, sipping our drinks. I glanced over at Richard, surveying him. Not exactly a handsome face, marred by a large nose that skewed a little to the side, but the eyes were deep and keen and suggested a great intelligence. “So you're moving to Sternok,” I said at last. “Isn't that a bit of a long way to go just to get away from Queltar?”
“The further the better,” he said with a growl. “The Slinteyes aren't just active in Queltar, you know. Nathan Bultitude tried to get away from them too, and they caught up with him in Zibolatre and cut his throat open. Nowhere's safe, but Sternok's safer than most places. If they ever find me there, there are ships that will take me right out of their reach.”
So this isn't just a general fear, I thought. You've done something – or more likely you know something – that makes you think they'll pursue you. But don't worry, I'm not going to ask.
“I heard about the Bultitude murder,” said Gabriel. “The papers didn't make the connection with the Slinteyes, though.”
Richard looked at him darkly. “It was them,” he said. “Don't ask me to tell you how I know that. You'll just have to take my word for it. Maybe I'll be able to tell you one day, if we ever meet again.”
“If I'm ever in Sternok, I'll look out for you,” I said. Very casual again, trying to make it sound like I was just being friendly. But I noticed as I said it that his eyebrows twitched, and I knew he wasn't happy at the thought of being looked up.
He was saved from having to reply when the door opened again, this time to admit Jasmine and Fuchsia; Charlie had gone to help Mrs Tasker bring in the food. I haven't mentioned Jasmine yet, and perhaps this would be a good place to describe her. She was younger than me; she'd only been nine when I arrived at the farm, and now she was a slim little black-haired thing of sixteen, with keen, quickly moving eyes set in a slender face. She had a disconcerting way of appearing most of the time to be deep in thought and not paying much attention to what was going on around her, and then her eyes would suddenly flash towards you and you realised that she had probably noticed more than you had.
She was like a sister to me in the years I lived in that place; she had a quick mind and a deep facility for understanding, and I soon found that I preferred her company to Charlie's, even if he was a little closer to my age. Charlie was a much more active type, and while he readily grew impatient with my caution and holding back, I just as readily grew bored with the repetitive nature of his conversation and his pleasures. And the less we had in common, the more he came to resent the kindness Gabriel showed me; and I'm human enough not to have much time for someone who's silly enough not to like me.Um, ok. If Athribar can break off and describe Jasmine, why not have him explain the political situation. I'd rather have a brief history of the current events than descriptions of Jasmine that are better placed in the next chapter.
So the girls seated themselves, Jasmine opposite me with a smile, and Fuchsia at the far end of the table.Focus on Jasmine and get rid of Fuchsia The food was brought in, and for a time we ate together in silence. I glanced over at Jasmine a couple of times, and I noticed that she was surveying our guest keenly; I wondered what she made of him. I didn't see anything especially odd about him, now that I had a context for him; his appearance seemed to fit his story perfectly. Charlie, who was sitting in between Gabriel and Jasmine,You use Gabriel and Mr. Tasker interchangeably. Keep to one. Mr. Tasker is better. Same thing with Mrs. Tasker was eating hurriedly without paying the slightest attention to any of us.
Richard didn't seem to have that much appetite, and after a while I saw him push his plate away and look up. Charlie was the only other one who had finished; but his plate was empty. It was a family rule that no-one was allowed to leave a meal until everyone had finished, so these two were gazing at each other, both searching for something to say. After the conversation we had had earlier, knowing what was on Richard's mind, I began to find the silence oppressive, and I didn't do a great job of keeping my mind on my food either.
“So,” Richard said at last, “you're Charles.”
“People call me Charlie,” he muttered.
Richard shrugged. “You're Charles,” he said. “And you're the one who wants to go to Zibolatre and overthrow the king, if what I've been hearing about you is true.” I noticed his mother flinch; this wasn't the first argument we'd had about Charlie's conversion to politics. And she couldn't change the subject or embarrass her son with a guest at the table.
“Well, not personally,” said Charlie. “But yeah, I want to do something to help the cause. I'm doing a bit of extra work so I can contribute some money, but money on its own won't get us very far. What we need is action.”
“I suppose you're going to blow up Parliament and get a lot of innocent people killed.”
Charlie looked uncomfortable. “I don't know what we'll do,” he said. “;There's people higher up who are taking charge of organising the revolution, and they know what they're doing. We don't want anyone killed except the king and his ministers.”Its very frustrating when the readers have no idea of the reasons/motivations/objectives behind the Slinteye's attacks. I know you mentioned it briefly, but at this point I have forgotten what they where. Maybe using a more recognized term than 'arbenition' will help readers remember why the Slinteyes are rebelling against the governmnet
“You're very young,” said Richard. “How old are you, exactly – eighteen?”
“Nearly nineteen,” Charlie said defiantly. “Old enough to look after myself and know how to handle a weapon.”Kinda cliché
“Please!“ Mrs Tasker cut in. “This isn't the time.”
Richard paid her no attention. “Nearly nineteen,” he repeated. “Ever seen a dead body?”
Charlie glowered at him, leaning forward with one elbow on the table. “Are you saying I'd be afraid?”
“I'm saying you have no idea what's going on out there in the real world.”
“I suppose you're a royalist,” said Charlie. “And I bet you have no idea what it's like for families like ours to try and make a living in this country. Plenty of families worse off than ours, as well.”What exactly is so appealing to the Slinteyes that makes Charlie so eager to join them?
“Maybe I don't,” said Richard. “But I know what it's like for anyone to try to make a living in Queltar at the moment. That's what your friends have done for us.”
“It's just the beginning,” said Charlie. “We have to deal with the people who want to deny us freedom of speech and the bullies who support the king's oppression. Death's too good for people like that.”
“Charlie!“ Mrs Tasker put in, more forcefully this time. “You mustn't say such things in front of–”
“You always say that,” Fuchsia grumbled. “I'm sick of being left out whenever you guys talk about serious stuff.”
Mrs Tasker instantly turned to Jasmine, looking for support, but she wasn't getting any. “Fuchsia's old enough to be concerned about Charlie, just as much as I am,” Jasmine said.
Charlie looked at her as though he was trying to kill her with his eyes. “I don't need your concern,” he mouthed.I dont think this is necessary. A nervous silence from the rest of the family members would add much more tension
“So you feel you're being bullied and you want to get even,” said Richard. “That's understandable, but I still don't see how the innocent people who are being hurt come into it. Vaneige's children, for example; they hadn't done anything to hurt you.”
Charlie shrugged. “It wasn't my doing,” he said. “But I trust our leaders, and there will have been a reason. Sometimes you have to do hard things to make a change that will bring about a greater good.”
“Maybe,” said Richard. “I just wonder whatever happened to the idea of making the most of the good we have, instead of causing more suffering by fighting for a greater good that might not even be attainable.”Reminds me of other Terrorist organizations, like the Shining Path and Al Quaida Ever do research into terrorist factions?
“Easy for you to say,” said Charlie. “You've had it easy. You haven't been the one doing the suffering.”
A silence settled over the table. After a while, it was broken by Mrs Tasker. “Charlie...,” she said weakly, “you shouldn't talk like that to a guest.”
Charlie glared at her, and I looked down at my plate, as though I was hoping it could make me forget what was going on around me. Richard sighed.
“Don't worry about it,” he said. “And I'd better be going. Thank you for your hospitality... I hope you don't think it rude of me, but I am hoping to reach Sternok before sundown....”
Charlie stared determinedly ahead as Richard got up, and Gabriel showed our visitor to the door and pocketed the banknote he gave him. I turned to Fuchsia Jasmine and started asking her about the day's lessons. I think we were all anxious to forget the embarrassing conversation as quickly as possible; at any rate, none of us referred to it again.
It was not, however, the last we heard of the Slinteyes. Summer was approaching, and other travellers stopped by with news. A demonstration in Gloitre had turned into a riot. Slinteye bosses were believed to be behind a daring organised robbery in Luunt. Two journalists who had written about the Slinteyes were shot one night in Zibolatre.
I didn't discuss these things with Charlie. We knew he was getting his news as well, through the friends he hung out with in the evenings, and whenever there was a story of a particularly daring exploit by the Slinteyes, he wore a defiant expression at mealtimes that made him impossible to talk to and awkward to look at.
The heat of June was rising to its climax when we heard, through the visit of a neighbour who had had it from his mother, the cruellest news of all. Princess Cornelia, the younger of the king's two daughters, was only seventeen and very beautiful, and barely a week passed without her getting in the papers for attending some show or opening a charity fair. She was in every respect “the darling of the people”, as the gutter press always referred to her. But that week she'd been in the papers for a different reason. I'm not sure exactly how many people the story was transmitted through before it got to us, but everyone agreed on the main details: that she had been raped several times and beaten before she was finally put out of her misery with a potato knife. I didn't hear any more after that; I slipped quietly away to vomit in the rosebushes.
I don't know whether it was the Slinteyes who were responsible. In that climate, though, it was inevitable that they were blamed. It became a crime to attend a Slinteye meeting or even to wear their symbols; the king's army was mobilised; headquarters and suspected meeting-places were burned down. Three soldiers came round one evening in July and spoke to Gabriel for a long time. I never found out what was said, but there was a loud quarrel between him and Charlie the next morning, and it ended with Charlie clearing out and moving in with his girlfriend Lisa, the daughter of a neighbouring farmer. Things became quieter after that, and I can't say I missed Charlie's presence at mealtimes; he and Lisa still worked with us on the farm, but after the quarrel they both spoke to us as little as possible.
Dougen, by right of descent and by approval of the gods king of Groflar, second of his name, died that year on the fourteenth of August. I never heard how or why; or, to be more accurate, I heard half a dozen different versions that couldn't all be true, not unless he had been simultaneously murdered by the Slinteyes, the ghost of his wife, his surviving daughter and the Prime Minister at the exact same time as he dropped dead of a heart attack combined with apoplexy. I also heard that he had committed suicide, but frankly, given how many other people seemed determined to end his life, I can't see why he would have bothered.
This isn't meant to be a chronicle of political events. After the king's death, the news came thick and fast, so fast that it would take up most of the book to try to describe everything that happened. Especially if I included all the different versions we heard of each event. But little of it had a direct impact on our lives; we were too far from the centre, on our little farm in the middle of Warp Forest, and laws were being made and repealed too rapidly for any of them to have a chance of being enforced. I will, then, pass over the remainder of the political turmoil, leaving it until such time as I need to mention a particular event in order to explain part of the later narrative. I didn't have time to think much about politics, in any case, after Charlie's departure made it much less of a pressing concern for us. I was busy a lot of the time with my work on the farm, of course; and in what spare time I had, I had worries of my own that made me much less interested in the problems of the outside world. I knew, you see, that it would soon be time for me to leave Gabriel, to leave behind everything I had known for the last seven years; and as to what lay in store for me after that, I had no more idea than you do.