August 13



In which you, Fair Reader, meet that Guy guy a-midst swinging his hardware.
(No, not that hardware, fetch your minds out of the gutter…)



Mist had worked itself into a steady rain. Nevertheless, Guy gave no explanation as he led his fellows upon a detour slightly east, passing from forest road into ploughed fields. That it was the end of harvest was evident; those fields were thickly populated, villeins hard at work despite the heavy rain.  As they approached Matlock, their horses’ hoofs thudding sodden against bare dirt, it was no different. Every able-bodied worker was in the fields. They picked their way through the nigh deserted village and into the marshy outskirts, moving to the cover of a copse of trees. There, within sight, was a familiar and flea-ridden hut.

Familiar to Guy, anyway.

When John started to slide down, Guy gripped his arm. “Stay here,” he ordered, eyed Siham as well. “Both of you.”

Flinging his off leg over the horse’s neck, Guy handed the rein to John and unbuckled his sword from its scabbard, pulling it free with the hard, sweet rasp of fine-forged metal.

Finally. Something to take the edge off. Action. Righteousness, in its most basic form.

The villein was there, alone on his vermin-infested mattress. Sleeping off the pleasantry of a well-scraped plate beside him, possessed of all his limbs and yet sleeping while his kin worked like dogs in the fields. And….

You handed me a secret you had no rights to, you puling traitor, and of that secret you shall tell none else.

This would be pure pleasure.

Guy toed the mattress, gave a growl. When that didn’t work, he kicked the bony haunch protruding from the tattered blanket. “Up.”

“G-gi’ off me!” Still groggy, at first the villein didn’t recognize him. Then he did. “M-my lord?”

Guy grabbed him by his grubby tunic, dragged him up and out through the squat door of the hut into the rain.

“Milord!” the man howled, staggering along. “What? Please, my lord!”

Guy said nothing, pulled his cowl over his face, and kept dragging the villein by his tunic over the sodden ground. The villein’s howling diminished to a moaning whine, his staggers to resigned stumbles and slips. Guy didn’t stop until they came to another stand of stunted trees and thick eelgrass. He gave a shove; the villein went sprawling in the tall, sharp grass.

It was more than adequate, this place.

“M-milord.” The villein dragged himself over, groveled at Guy’s feet. “Please. I didn’t lie, I didn’t. Please, I didn’t—”

Guy hefted his falchion, a curve of silver glittering in the rain.

“This,” he informed the villein, “is quite personal. I’m sorry.”

The villein didn’t even have time to scream.


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Copyright © 2018 J Tullos Hennig. All rights reserved.

Posted August 13, 2013 by JTullosHennig in category "Books


  1. By Carolyn Golledge on

    MORE!!!!! NOW. Oh this is soooooooooo goood. as usual . I love your descriptions and your knowledge of the background. On the down side you do make me feel inferior, I really need someone like you to go over my work and add in more description. I right in too much of a hurry, of reasons I’d rather not think about. You TAKE us there. It’s not I’m going to read about this, it’s I’m going to LIVE this with the character. The sense of rainy damp and the hard work in the fields, the hut, oh the hut, and even the mention of the ‘grubby’ tunic, etc. The knowing of words such as falchion…. envious sigh. And btw did i mention how much I miss you and John and your wonderful home full of books and interesting collectibles?

    But woo hoo on to sept nine! Can’t wait, seriously, to buy the book and settle in for a visit to another time and back to characters i LOVE. I should be finished book three by then, though it will undoubtedly be in need of another coat of descriptive paint, I doubt it will get it. Finally I can settle back and start reading again instead of writing

    great work, Jenni, as always. Can’t wait to find out what the villainous villlein… heheheh… did.


    1. By JTH (Post author) on

      You know, I really need to check messages more often… I think I just feel like this is such a new blog and no one visits… and I miss the important visitor who does! mea culpa…

      John and I were so glad you could visit and hope you will again as you can. He’s still talking about the timely orca pod visitation–and that he wasn’t here to see ’em!

      I have to really apply myself to surround. I tend to get either all head-up-arse-internal-OMGs or all sensate about natural things and forget what people are wearing! Which, you know, works in close contact situations, but otherwise… 😉 I’m really glad the experience is there for you, though. If it takes you there, then I shall do the fist pump of Woo-Hoo! Chaos, panic, disorder… my work here is done!

      I’m looking forward to being done with this novel I’m working on so I can spend some time on YOUR book. How is it that I’m always in the middle of ‘finish-the-novel’ craziness during SUMMER? At least I’m not on the deadline I was last summer with the Wode books… and the landslide that happened behind our house mid-manuscript…

      Isn’t Guy just a wonderful badass, though? The soft-voiced, sweet-faced Bad Guy. I just watch him go… 😉 Keep your eyes peeled here, though, because there’s going to be more goodies in the next few weeks up to release day.


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