The Patron
Includes 8 items
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×1The Mason of New Orleans, autographed, in print
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×1The Angel of Ecbatana, autographed, in print
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×1The Mason of New Orleans audiobook
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×1The Angel of Ecbatana audiobook
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×1The Mason of New Orleans in ebook format
“Ma Dame,” Kolb responded, bowing. Civil. Respectful, even. He was the oldest knight I’d ever seen, gray-haired, with crows’ feet and knobby knuckles. Still upright, still with that proud, I-own-this-place bearing. Probably still quite able to kick my ass, but maybe not so quick to do it.
And he wasn’t armored—he had his sword, but was otherwise in his civvies. “My lord Count bids that I ask your price for the safe return of his beloved niece.”
Stephan made a humphing noise. Madeleine regarded the knight for just a moment. “Straight to the point, I see,” she answered. “Well enough. I too shall be direct. I will have two thousand pounds of silver for the affronts to my person and holdings, and my lord Count’s assurance, under his seal and that of Prince-Bishop Radolfus, that he makes no more claim upon Bois de Haillot.”
There were several sharp intakes of breath at the figure. I stole a quick glance around the hall. Half the household was gathered behind the wooden screen that separated the entryway, peering in through the two openings. Everyone who could fabricate an excuse for being there—Elias, Cyril, Celestine, a handful of servants coming and going with food and drink—was in the room. Juliana was standing next to Stephan, watching Kolb from beneath knitted brows. She was biting her lip. Anxious, I guessed. Or angry?
“Two thousand—?” Kolb reached up and pulled the woolen coif from his head, running his hand through his thinning hair before setting it back down. “You well know my lord Count won’t agree to such a sum.”
Madeleine de la Croix is a noblewoman, but not all nobility are created equal, as it were. Her husband is a knight, putting them at the bottom of the nobility social ladder. Furthermore, he's outremer (overseas) on crusade, so she's holding his manor in his absence. She takes Martin, our main character, into her household, but with the local count's designs on her land, that's not necessarily a safe haven . . .
My eternal thanks! (And maybe a few more things.)
This level gets you everything included in The Squire. The extra money doesn't buy you any additional rewards—well, nothing tangible, anyway. A wonderful feeling for having helped make all this happen? My sincere gratitude? A sense of patronage?
All of the above, but the most impactful is the gratitude. And I'll express that gratitude in a handful of ways. I'll personalize your autographs in the print copies of your books. I'll mention your help in the dedication and acknowledgements of The Angel of Ecbatana and the revised edition of The Mason of New Orleans. I'll have Liv autograph your art prints. And I'll include you in the small circle of folk I call upon, as I work on The Angel of Ecbatana, when I need a fresh idea—to name a character, for example.
For details on the specific deliverables, see The Squire pledge level (though I'm guessing, if you've found your way to this one, that you've already read the others). The upshot is you get all that, plus the chance to help out a little more—and you gain my eternal thanks!
You'll pay shipping for physical products through the pledge manager. Product shots are mockups; final items may look different.
All of the above, but the most impactful is the gratitude. And I'll express that gratitude in a handful of ways. I'll personalize your autographs in the print copies of your books. I'll mention your help in the dedication and acknowledgements of The Angel of Ecbatana and the revised edition of The Mason of New Orleans. I'll have Liv autograph your art prints. And I'll include you in the small circle of folk I call upon, as I work on The Angel of Ecbatana, when I need a fresh idea—to name a character, for example.
For details on the specific deliverables, see The Squire pledge level (though I'm guessing, if you've found your way to this one, that you've already read the others). The upshot is you get all that, plus the chance to help out a little more—and you gain my eternal thanks!
You'll pay shipping for physical products through the pledge manager. Product shots are mockups; final items may look different.
(This excerpt from The Angel of Ecbatana is continued from The Squire pledge level. You can start at the beginning in The Reeve pledge level.)
I clambered back to my feet. Scramble through a narrow hole while someone speared me to death? Try to wait it out here, and hope the fire burned itself out before my lungs were seared? The room was brightly lit now, but so dense with smoke that I could no longer see the far wall. I could breathe, here in the cascade of cool air tumbling over me from the window, but just inches away the air was scalding.
I’d been in a few life-and-death situations since I’d arrived in this century. They’d all unfolded so fast, so fluidly, that I hadn’t had a chance to contemplate my mortality. Here, now, with my back against the stone, paused for just a second as I considered my options, it hit me: I was about to die.
“Martin!”
Someone had called my name. The fire was roaring now, but I’d heard it. From outside? I glanced up at the window. No, it had come from the other way. From the kitchen door.
I took a step forward, but a foot from the window the air was a million degrees. Crawl, that’s what you were supposed to do—but the floor rushes were burning. I’d set myself on fire. There was only one option: Run for it.
I couldn’t see the kitchen door, and I could only guess who was over there calling for me. But I leaned back into the cooler air by the window, took a deep breath, crouched low, and ran.
Instantly I was awash in heat. The smoke filled my eyes with tears; I couldn’t see, and I blundered into something heavy—probably Celestine’s chair. But the distance wasn’t great—five or six paces—and I plowed on.
A hand gripped my arm and someone pulled me aside. I staggered, letting myself follow, coughing and choking when my held breath gave out. For a moment I had no idea where I was going, swirled in darkness and a world of streaming eyes and burning lungs. The ground suddenly wasn’t beneath my feet, and I tumbled and fell, rolling onto cold damp earth. I kept rolling, away from the heat, blinking my eyes until they started to clear and the universe began to make sense again.
Like what you've read? This scene is from my current draft of The Angel of Ecbatana. Back this campaign to find out what happens!
The Patron
$125
21 Backers
The Patron
$125
21 Backers