Hi all,
This is the opening to the second book of my YA fantasy trilogy. I welcome all your thoughts, please have at it.
Thanks,
PN
"Danny didn’t see the rock hurtling towards his head, he sensed it.
He tilted his head to one side as the projectile whistled past, ruffling his blond locks on its way and span round to snatch a cobblestone out of the air as it chased its flinty predecessor at high velocity.
A half dozen men stalked him. Hard, angular men with quarry dust thick on their clothes. One led from the front, thick stubble on his face and a broken bottle in his grip; a vicious curved scar disfiguring the taut muscles of his forearm. Ralendek’s deniers.
Danny’s eyes flitted around him, searching for his escape route but the narrow street terminated in a dead end a couple of dozen strides behind him. Great for training; not so good for a boy escaping a lynch mob. He reached instinctively up his back, hand closing on thin air. The men advanced cautiously, reducing the gap to Danny to a dozen strides but he didn’t back away.
‘Nowhere to run boy,’ the man with the broken bottle said with a sneer of satisfaction.
‘We’re gonna snuff you out Stoneborn,’ yelled another, brandishing a makeshift club.
Danny’s eyes narrowed and he tossed the cobblestone in his hand, feeling its weight. Six strides. He dropped into a stance, trying to keep focus as his heart pounded in his ears. The men moved up on the flanks to catch him in a pincer. Three strides. A bead of sweat trickled down Danny’s temple. Just a little closer. The men hesitated outside of strike range.
‘No-’ The rest of the word evaporated in a muffled scream as the cobblestone smashed through teeth on its way into the lead man’s mouth. Danny turned and sprinted down the street towards the dead end, heavy foot falls behind him as the mob took chase. He knew the street well and he knew the rough wooden walls of the buildings lining it, a few doors but none were open.
Just before he reached the end, Danny swerved hard to the left and jumped high onto the end wall, running his feet up as he angled his body away, he sprang up and away towards the side wall. High out of reach of his pursuers, Danny’s momentum towards the wall afforded him a couple of strides to pass over their heads before gravity caught up. He landed on his feet, a hand finding the ground for balance and charged back down the street. He skipped easily round a half-hearted tackle from the lead man; shards from the bottle crunched under Danny’s feet and he winced as he saw blood escaping from the man’s mouth.
‘You won’t get away this time,’ a shout came from behind, ‘We’re not gonna let you bring war upon us.’
More yells from the pursuing men spurred Danny on and he used a lamp post to slingshot himself round the corner as he raced out of the street and into another. He had to make it back to the Stone Circles pub or at least somewhere busier; no way he could fight all of them. He skidded round a tight corner into the next turnoff, hoping his pursuers would lose sight of him. But they were quarry workers; fit, strong and in their prime. He wasn’t losing them.
He desperately tried to plot his route but couldn’t focus as he hurtled down the short streets, taking turn after turn. The streets opened up, becoming wider with less houses and more space between them. The outskirts of Amicas. He’d taken a wrong turn somewhere and on the broader thoroughfare he could hear the drum of feet getting closer. He couldn’t out run them, not in a straight race on hard packed earth.
He took a sharp change of direction and cut off between two houses, coming out on scrub land with more houses on the other side. Not much better. He willed his tired legs on, adrenalin pushing aside the burn in his muscles. He stumbled on the uneven ground but kept his feet, closing in on a fence before the buildings opposite.
He couldn’t hesitate, the fall of footsteps had thinned but at least two kept up the chase. Chest high, he launched himself at the top of the fence, grasped it in his hands and pulled. Flying horizontally through the air he cleared the fence, hit the ground in a roll and sprang out of it to find his feet, still moving.
Danny risked a glance behind, two men slowed to vault the fence. They breathed hard, their faces fixed in grim determination. He scampered between the houses and out onto the street turning back to the centre of Amicas.
‘Alright Danny,’ Scarlet’s familiar tones called out from behind him. He skidded to a halt and whirled round. ‘Out training again?’ she asked ambling along, a brace of adult priggins dangling from her belt, a strap slung over her shoulder.
‘Deniers. Run!’ Danny said, sucking in great lungfuls of air and made to set off again. Scarlet didn’t move to follow. ‘Scarlet!’
The two pursuing men charged out of the gap between the houses. They barely registered Scarlet as their eyes found Danny. They slowed as they approached, one armed with a makeshift mace and the other a wickedly curved knife, the rusty blade dull in the sunlight.
‘Stop.’ The authority in Scarlet’s voice halted the men’s progress and they glanced in her direction. The glance turned into a fearful stare as they looked down the shaft of a crossbow bolt, loaded and ready to fire.
Scarlet manoeuvred round the pair, putting herself between them and Danny. Her aim remained as unflinching as the men’s fixation on the crossbow. No one moved, a dozen strides between the two pairs; a standoff. Danny scoured the ground for some kind of weapon but found only dirt.
The man with the knife began to advance, ‘Out of the way girlie, we all know you’re not going to fire.’
‘Girlie?!’ Scarlet resettled her cheek against the crossbow, ‘Another step and I’ll put this bolt through you.’
‘I don’t think so,’ the man said and took another step."
This is the opening to the second book of my YA fantasy trilogy. I welcome all your thoughts, please have at it.
Thanks,
PN
"Danny didn’t see the rock hurtling towards his head, he sensed it.
He tilted his head to one side as the projectile whistled past, ruffling his blond locks on its way and span round to snatch a cobblestone out of the air as it chased its flinty predecessor at high velocity.
A half dozen men stalked him. Hard, angular men with quarry dust thick on their clothes. One led from the front, thick stubble on his face and a broken bottle in his grip; a vicious curved scar disfiguring the taut muscles of his forearm. Ralendek’s deniers.
Danny’s eyes flitted around him, searching for his escape route but the narrow street terminated in a dead end a couple of dozen strides behind him. Great for training; not so good for a boy escaping a lynch mob. He reached instinctively up his back, hand closing on thin air. The men advanced cautiously, reducing the gap to Danny to a dozen strides but he didn’t back away.
‘Nowhere to run boy,’ the man with the broken bottle said with a sneer of satisfaction.
‘We’re gonna snuff you out Stoneborn,’ yelled another, brandishing a makeshift club.
Danny’s eyes narrowed and he tossed the cobblestone in his hand, feeling its weight. Six strides. He dropped into a stance, trying to keep focus as his heart pounded in his ears. The men moved up on the flanks to catch him in a pincer. Three strides. A bead of sweat trickled down Danny’s temple. Just a little closer. The men hesitated outside of strike range.
‘No-’ The rest of the word evaporated in a muffled scream as the cobblestone smashed through teeth on its way into the lead man’s mouth. Danny turned and sprinted down the street towards the dead end, heavy foot falls behind him as the mob took chase. He knew the street well and he knew the rough wooden walls of the buildings lining it, a few doors but none were open.
Just before he reached the end, Danny swerved hard to the left and jumped high onto the end wall, running his feet up as he angled his body away, he sprang up and away towards the side wall. High out of reach of his pursuers, Danny’s momentum towards the wall afforded him a couple of strides to pass over their heads before gravity caught up. He landed on his feet, a hand finding the ground for balance and charged back down the street. He skipped easily round a half-hearted tackle from the lead man; shards from the bottle crunched under Danny’s feet and he winced as he saw blood escaping from the man’s mouth.
‘You won’t get away this time,’ a shout came from behind, ‘We’re not gonna let you bring war upon us.’
More yells from the pursuing men spurred Danny on and he used a lamp post to slingshot himself round the corner as he raced out of the street and into another. He had to make it back to the Stone Circles pub or at least somewhere busier; no way he could fight all of them. He skidded round a tight corner into the next turnoff, hoping his pursuers would lose sight of him. But they were quarry workers; fit, strong and in their prime. He wasn’t losing them.
He desperately tried to plot his route but couldn’t focus as he hurtled down the short streets, taking turn after turn. The streets opened up, becoming wider with less houses and more space between them. The outskirts of Amicas. He’d taken a wrong turn somewhere and on the broader thoroughfare he could hear the drum of feet getting closer. He couldn’t out run them, not in a straight race on hard packed earth.
He took a sharp change of direction and cut off between two houses, coming out on scrub land with more houses on the other side. Not much better. He willed his tired legs on, adrenalin pushing aside the burn in his muscles. He stumbled on the uneven ground but kept his feet, closing in on a fence before the buildings opposite.
He couldn’t hesitate, the fall of footsteps had thinned but at least two kept up the chase. Chest high, he launched himself at the top of the fence, grasped it in his hands and pulled. Flying horizontally through the air he cleared the fence, hit the ground in a roll and sprang out of it to find his feet, still moving.
Danny risked a glance behind, two men slowed to vault the fence. They breathed hard, their faces fixed in grim determination. He scampered between the houses and out onto the street turning back to the centre of Amicas.
‘Alright Danny,’ Scarlet’s familiar tones called out from behind him. He skidded to a halt and whirled round. ‘Out training again?’ she asked ambling along, a brace of adult priggins dangling from her belt, a strap slung over her shoulder.
‘Deniers. Run!’ Danny said, sucking in great lungfuls of air and made to set off again. Scarlet didn’t move to follow. ‘Scarlet!’
The two pursuing men charged out of the gap between the houses. They barely registered Scarlet as their eyes found Danny. They slowed as they approached, one armed with a makeshift mace and the other a wickedly curved knife, the rusty blade dull in the sunlight.
‘Stop.’ The authority in Scarlet’s voice halted the men’s progress and they glanced in her direction. The glance turned into a fearful stare as they looked down the shaft of a crossbow bolt, loaded and ready to fire.
Scarlet manoeuvred round the pair, putting herself between them and Danny. Her aim remained as unflinching as the men’s fixation on the crossbow. No one moved, a dozen strides between the two pairs; a standoff. Danny scoured the ground for some kind of weapon but found only dirt.
The man with the knife began to advance, ‘Out of the way girlie, we all know you’re not going to fire.’
‘Girlie?!’ Scarlet resettled her cheek against the crossbow, ‘Another step and I’ll put this bolt through you.’
‘I don’t think so,’ the man said and took another step."
