Thursday, December 21, 2017

The Wizard’s Magic Pipe - Sample Chapter

The Wizard’s Magic Pipe
Paul R. Wonning
The Wizard’s Magic Pipe
The Wizard’s Magic Pipe

The initial shock of cold water slapped Cecil Barnes awake. As the water heated, he stuck his head under the stream and wetted his hair. He reached for the shampoo, squeezed a small puddle of it into his palm and lathered his hair. The rich smell of the shampoo permeated the steamy air. He felt the hot water sooth the stiff muscles in his neck and back. He hadn’t been sleeping well. He needed a new mattress. As this thought settled into his mind, he knew that his mattress wasn’t all that he needed to change.
As he worked the shampoo through his hair, his mind drifted back to grade school. He remembered something his history teacher, Mrs. Herman, had said many years ago.
“History is more than events which happened long ago. Our lives are a part of this collection of stories. Where we are born, the way we live our lives, those we love and how we die are all elements of this unique story.”
Cecil rinsed the rich lather from his hair. The sudsy water ran down his body and into the drain. His hand sought the washcloth and soap. While he washed himself, he remembered the rest of her lecture.
“Our children, parents and friends are all ingredients of this montage, and we of theirs. In addition to this, we are also part of a much older story, the chronicle of the earth and its people. Each person who ever lived is a thread in this tapestry, and these threads weave together like threads in a tapestry. These tales combine to create the history of our world.”
Cecil felt that if that were true, then his story would be a boring chapter in that history. His job was humdrum, his love life nonexistent, and his chief entertainment consisted of going to flea markets.
Cecil had a plan, though. He would get that new job in Indianapolis, get married, buy a house in the suburbs, and sire a couple of kids. He would also have a cat and a nice car to haul everything. Cecil had no idea as he sat down on the edge of his bed to put on his shoes that his story was about to change. It would change in a way that he could never have anticipated. He slipped on his shoes and began tying the laces.
"Darnn," Cecil said aloud, as his shoestring broke with a snap.
Since this was his favorite pair of shoes and he had no spare laces, he would have to improvise until he could buy more. As he began loosening the laces, his cell phone rang. His mother’s number was flashing on the display screen. 
He picked up the phone and said, "Hey, Mom, what's up?"
"Hello, Cecil. How are you this morning?" she asked.
"Okay. I am just getting ready to go out."
"Are you going to the flea market?"
"Yes, Mom, you know I like to go there on Sundays."
"And eat all that greasy, unhealthy food?"
"Yes, Mom, and eat all that greasy, unhealthy food."
“I hope you eat healthier the rest of the week.”
“I do,” Cecil said, feeling guilty about the lie.
"Are you still collecting and smoking those nasty old pipes?"
"Yes, Mom, I still collect them, and I do smoke one occasionally." He cringed inwardly at the fib. He loved relaxing to music and a pipe of tobacco each evening after work.
"That is a nasty, vile habit. I don't know how you ever got started with that. You certainly didn’t learn it from me."
“No, Mom, I didn’t.”  A memory of sitting in his grandfather’s lap while the old man smoked his favorite pipe crowded into his head. The pipe had a horse’s head, and Cecil could still smell the wonderful fragrance of the tobacco as the old man told him stories.
"Did you talk to that company in Indianapolis again?" His mother’s voice shattered the memory.
"Yes, I am still talking to them. One of their sales reps is going to retire, leaving a position open. It won't start for two months, and then there is a one year training period before I can start."
"Why so long? Surely it isn't that complicated."
"The owner is a stickler for starting at the bottom. He wants all his sales people to work three months on the receiving dock. Then they work for three months in the warehouse. After that they put in three months processing orders. I work with the retiring sales rep the last three months."
"But you've already done some of that stuff in your current job."
"Yes, but the owner wants his sales people to know the entire operation so they are knowledgeable with customers."
As he talked, he managed to get his shoe laces loosened up. He pulled the broken end out far enough to tie it. Then he tightened up the laces again and tied his shoe. The frayed end of the shoelace looked somewhat shabby, but it would have to do.
"Are you going to that flea market alone?"
"Yes, Mom. No, I don’t have a girlfriend yet,” he answered, anticipating her next question. “I don't want to get tied into a relationship with a girl and then move to Indy."
"But that isn't far from Columbus. A girl would move there with you, if you had a good job."
"There are girls in Indianapolis, too, Mom."
"Well, maybe," her tone was uncertain. "They are probably all farm girls with straw sticking out of their ears."
Cecil rolled his eyes and said, "Hey, Mom, it's been nice talking, but I have to go."
"So soon, dear? Gosh, we just got started talking."
"My cell phone battery is about to die."
"If you would get a normal phone, we could talk longer. That always happens when I call."
"Sorry, Mom, but..." he hit the cut off button.
He lay back on the bed, exhausted. She always had that effect on him. A few minutes on the phone with her and he felt like he had run a marathon. He realized that in just a few minutes she had extracted everything that happened of note during the last week.
It hadn’t always been like that. After Cecil's father died in the car wreck, his mother became overprotective. When he graduated from high school, he left New Jersey for Ohio to gain his freedom. His mother never forgave him for leaving her protective reach.
He lay there musing about their conversation and the state of his life. He was ready for a change and hoped the job in Indianapolis worked out. Then maybe he could find a lady and settle down. He got up, gathered his things, donned his flat hat, and left his apartment.
As he walked out to his car, he reveled in the exhilarating weather. The chill in the air and falling leaves' fragrance hinted at a fine autumn day. He would find fresh apple cider at the orchard’s stand, which was always one of his favorite treats. There would be honey for his toast as well. He licked his lips in anticipation as he got in his car and drove off.

Cecil loved flea markets. The sights, the sounds and the smells all combined to create a festive, exciting atmosphere. As he entered the savory aroma of sausages broiling behind a greasy glass case greeted him. This smell accompanied pungent, spicy barbecued pork and musky smelling roast beef. He sniffed at the odors of the other high fat, zillion-calorie fare offered. Of medium height and slightly pudgy, he didn't eat this stuff often, but at the flea market he always partook. It was one of his few guilty pleasures.
Cecil stopped in front of one of the glass cases to peruse the offerings. He decided to start with a beer brat. He would return for one of those cheesy, spicy tacos before going home. He stepped to the back of the line. The woman behind the counter smiled at him when he stepped up to place his order.
"I'll have one of those beer brats, some onion rings, and a root beer," he said.
"Sure enough," she replied as she slapped a brat into a bun. She tossed some of the juicy onion rings into a bag, sloshed some ice into a cup and filled it with the fragrant beverage.
Thus armed, Cecil sat down at a table to eat.
This was what he loved. Watching the people go by as he ate, he saw a rich diversity of people. Young parents with children, excited by the merchandise, waltzed by. There were also older couples enjoying each other’s company as they browsed the vendor’s tables.  He watched one young couple stroll by, holding hands. To be like that would be wonderful. He finished the brat, threw his paper plate and cup in the trash bin, and started out down the first aisle.
Vendors lined the aisles hawking every imaginable type of merchandise. He stopped periodically to look at offerings that interested him. As he rounded the end of one aisle and started down the next, the corner booth opposite him attracted his attention. A swarthy young man was standing behind a richly carved wooden table crowded with a stunning variety of pipes. He stopped to look. These pipes were neat, but expensive. But it would be fun to look and he just might find one to add to his collection.

Sarna’s apprehension grew as he watched the crowd flow by his table. His wares at the flea market this weekend had attracted little attention. Only two elderly men had stopped to peruse his selection of pipes. His master could not use an elderly man.
The anti-tobacco craze, which had surfaced in recent years, was making things difficult. Young men were no longer attracted to pipe smoking the way they once were.
His time was running short. He had to find someone to purchase it. He must find this person soon. Not only did he have to find a buyer, the purchaser must be the right sort of person. He had very little time to make another error.
He noticed a young man coming into view. This young man saw Sarna’s table and stopped. His face displayed interest as he began walking over to the table. Sarna studied him carefully. Over the centuries, Sarna learned to judge character types well. This man displayed the necessary interest. A quick read of his personality revealed that he could be problematic. Sarna didn’t have time for problems.
He glanced at the thinning crowd. Sarna’s experience at flea markets taught him many things. Early arrivals at the market were buyers. Later in the day, the browsers replaced the buyers. This day was drawing to a close. Soon, the market would be empty and he would have to wait another week.
He watched as Cecil approached the table. Sarna made a quick decision. He reached under the table, pulled out a carved wooden box and placed it at the rear of the table.

Cecil studied the pipes. Most were ornate and didn't appeal to his taste.
His roving eye stopped at a carved wooden box at the rear of the table.
What's in that one? "
"This is my best pipe," answered the man, handing the case to Cecil.
Cecil opened the case. A beautifully colored meerschaum pipe lay inside. He felt something stir in him as he rubbed the pipe with his fingers.
“That is a magic pipe,” the vendor said with a wink. “It brings good fortune to its owner.”
“Good fortune,” said Cecil. “I could use some of that.”

As Cecil felt the smoothness of the pipe, he entered a story that began hundreds of years ago and thousands of miles away. This story was about to catch up with him.
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Wednesday, December 20, 2017

Chapter 2 Anatomy of the Root - Sample Chapter - Gardener's Guide to Botany

Chapter 2 Anatomy of the Root

Anatomy of the Root
Anatomy of the Root 
Most plant roots are composed of five main areas. These parts of the roots are the root tip, epidermis, cortex, xylem and phloem.
The root cap is located at the very tip of the root. It is a thimble shaped structure that serves to protect the root tip, or apical meristem, which is composed of almost continuously growing cells.

Anatomy of the Root
Anatomy of the Root 
The epidermis is the skin of the root, composing its outmost surface. It is a single cell thick in most plants and it serves two functions, to protect the tissues within the root and to allow minerals and water to pass through. Microscopic root hairs grow outward from some of the cells of the epidermis, greatly expanding the surface area of the root and increasing the amount of minerals and roots that may be taken in.
Gardeners' Guide To Botany

Gardeners' Guide To Botany
The next layer of the anatomy of a root is the cortex. The parenchyma cells and the endodermis make up the cortex. Parenchyma cells mostly serve as storage structures and these are where excess food produced in the plant's leaves are stored for future use. The endodermis is the innermost layer of the cortex. A waxy substance called the Casparian strip surrounds each cell, forcing minerals to pass through the cells of the endodermis by a process called osmosis, and not around them. This limits the amount of minerals and water passing into the cortex.
The vascular cylinder is the innermost layer of the plant root. It is composed of two structures, the xylem and the phloem. Both layers are composed of tube shaped cells and both have similar functions, the transportation of materials from one area of the plant to another. The xylem is composed of dead, tubular cells called veins, whose purpose is to transport minerals and waters to the stem and then on to the leaves, sort of like a pipe system within the plant root. The cells of the phloem are living cells, also tubular in shape and referred to as sieve tubes. The phloem also acts like a pipeline system, moving food either manufactured in the leaves to for immediate use or stored in the cortex for future use.
The way the system functions is simple in concept. The root hairs take in water and minerals and pass it into the cortex. Pressure builds up, forcing them through the endodermis, into the phloem, and from there up into the stem and outward to the leaves.

Tuesday, December 19, 2017

Colonial American Time Line - January 1, 1673 - Regular Mail Delivery Begins Between New York and Boston

Colonial American History Stories - 1665 - 1753
Colonial American History Stories - 1665 - 1753
January 1, 1673 - Regular Mail Delivery Begins Between New York and Boston
The first roads on the British Colonies followed trails used by the natives or wildlife. The colonists used these ancient trails, widening and expanding them. Mail service during early colonial times was infrequent, uncertain and mostly within the colony. The first mail carriers were family members, friends and sometimes Indians. The first mail deliverers were post riders that delivered this mail. Colonial governments hired these post riders to deliver the mail. These Post riders were independent contractors who delivered mail in designated areas.
Post Roads
Residents of towns that received mail service had to travel to a central location to pick up their mail. This location was usually the town’s general store. The term “post road” originated to designate the early mail delivery routes. Since the post riders had to maintain a tight schedule to deliver mail on time, a system of mile markers developed along these roads. The markers served to inform them of their progress along the road. Many of these "mile markers" still exist along the older post roads. Many of these post roads later became the first major highways in the United States.
The First Mail Service
Francis Lovelace, governor of New York, instituted the first inter-colony mail service. The service did not last long, but the route became known as the Old Boston Post Road. Modern US 1 follows this route, the upper portion of which followed an earlier Indian route, the Pequot Path.

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Sunday, December 17, 2017

Historic Travel Guide to Ripley County, Indiana

Historic Travel Guide to Ripley County, Indiana
Historic Travel Guide to Ripley County, Indiana
Historic Travel Guide to
Ripley County, Indiana


Historic Travel Guide to Ripley County, Indiana
Approximately 570 Pages
Sample Chapter
Discover the historic nooks and crannies in Ripley County, Indiana. The Historic Travel Guide to Ripley County reveals the many places history has touched in the county. The author's included Ripley County History Auto Tour takes the traveler through the many historic places in the county. The book covers many Ripley County towns including Batesville, Versailles, Osgood, Napoleon, Sunman and Milan.

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Other Books in the Series
A History of Indiana Libraries - Ripley County Edition
A History of Napoleon, Indiana
Indiana Fire Departments History - Ripley County Edition - Released sometime in January 2020

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Friday, December 15, 2017

Sample Chapter - Nantahala Gorge Excursion - Riding the Great Smokey Mountain Railroad

Nantahala Gorge Excursion


After our November, 2015 trip on the Great Smoky Mountains Railroad; we decided to take the other trip, the Nantahala Gorge Excursion, the next year in October. This trip took place on October 24, 2016.
Arrival at the Station
Riding the Great Smokey Mountain Railroad
Riding the Great Smokey Mountain Railroad

Riding the Great Smokey Mountain Railroad

Riding the Great Smokey Mountain Railroad
We arrived at the train station just after eight o’clock. I parked the car after leaving Lynne off at the station. She collected our tickets and we got in line. Outside temperatures were around 39, cold and crisp. It was sunny and would remain so for the remainder of the day. We were taking the Nantahala Gorge Excursion, which departed at 9:00 AM and would return at 1:30 with an hour layover at Nantahala Outdoor Center (NOC) for an hour. Train boarded at 9:00. We had table L in the McFarland car. We had a table for two on the opposite side of the best views. Train departed at 9:00. We had first class tickets, enclosed car. The ride included brunch, which the server handed out around 11:00. Tessa, our server, was on her first solo trip. She was excellent.   

Riding the Great Smokey Mountain Railroad
Riding the Great Smokey Mountain Railroad
The brunch of Cheesy Ham Hash Brown Casserole and Brunch-Sausage & Bacon Quiche was delicious. We cut each other’s in half and had some of each. The train crosses a trestle over Fontana Lake and follows the course of the Nantahala River for much of the excursion. We had some fabulous views of both the lake and the river. They have drawn down the lake to wintertime levels and it is now down about 60%.

Riding the Great Smokey Mountain Railroad
Riding the Great Smokey Mountain Railroad
The train passes through the Nantahala Outdoor Center, and then continues on about five miles to a switch. At this point, they stop the train, maneuver the locomotive onto the switch and travel to the opposite end of the train. Here, they hook back up and return. The train stops for about an hour at the Nantahala Outdoor Center. Passengers can get out and walk about. There are a couple of shops there, but the focus of this place is as a rafting and zip line expedition center. On weekends, they raise the water level from the dam to make the rafting more challenging.

Riding the Great Smokey Mountain Railroad
Riding the Great Smokey Mountain Railroad
After departing the NOC, we traveled back to Bryson City. I spent a lot of the time on the return trip on the platform between the train cars. From this vantage, the passenger can get some great shots. A woman photographer and I shared the platform, exchanging places occasionally to give each other the best spot. We arrived back around 1:30. The sights of the mountains, sounds of the train and fragrances from the mountain air provide an exhilarating experience. Even the faint creosote smell from piles of cast off ties along the line seemed pleasant.
Riding the Great Smokey Mountain Railroad

Riding the Great Smokey Mountain Railroad
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Tuesday, December 12, 2017

Colonial American Time Line - October 19, 1469 - Ferdinand and Isabella Marry, Uniting Aragon and Castile


Colonial American History Stories - 1215 - 1664

Colonial American History Stories - 1215 - 1664
Colonial American History Stories - 1215 - 1664
October 19, 1469 - Ferdinand and Isabella Marry, Uniting Aragon and Castile
The marriage of the two sovereigns that would set Spain off on its course of colonial empire and world dominance began in a swirl of political intrigue and a secret elopement.
Isabella I of Castile (April 22, 1451 - November 26, 1504)
The daughter of John II of Castile and Isabella of Portugal, Isabella was native to the city of Madrigal de las Altas Torres, Ávila in west central Spain. She had a brother, Alfonso. This was a tumultuous era in Spain's history and resources were stretched thin, even for those of royal blood. Second in line to the throne to her half brother Henry after Alfonso, Isabella's living conditions as a child were frugal at best. At times, there was little food and sometimes the household struggled to find proper clothing. The royal household suffered an almost continuous shortage of money. Isabella received a good education in spite of the living conditions. Henry became King of Castile on July 21, 1454 three years before Isabella's birth.
Political Marriages
Henry plotted advantageous marriages for his young sister at an early age, betrothing her to Ferdinand, son of John II of Navarre when she was six. This betrothal was short lived, but Henry continued to plot. Henry married Blanche II of Navarre in 1540, but the union produced no children, as Henry was unable to consummate the marriage. Henry blamed his condition on a curse, one that only affected his relations with his wife. Pope Nicholas V annulled the marriage, paving the way for Henry's eventual marriage to Joan of Portugal. The union produced a daughter, Joanna, in 1462. Political enemies of Henry continually questioned Joanna's parentage, claiming Henry did not sire her. After Joanna's birth, Henry summoned his eleven-year-old half sister to court, where her living conditions improved.
Civil War
Henry named Joanna as his heir, but conflicts among the nobles concerning her paternity caused Henry to compromise, naming his half brother Alfonso as his heir. Civil war began when Henry reneged on this arrangement and began supporting his daughter again. The rebelling nobles conducted an insurrection during which they named Alfonso king. This dispute ended when Alfonso died suddenly of a disease, though many suspected poison. At his death, he left his throne to his sister, Isabella. Avoiding civil war, Isabella and Henry agreed that Isabella would be his official heir. She could marry only with his permission, but he could not force a marriage on her.
Ferdinand II of Aragon (March 10, 1452 – January 23, 1516)
The son of John II of Aragon and Juana Enríquez, Ferdinand was native to Sada Palace, Sos del Rey Católico, Kingdom of Aragon. John saw to it that Ferdinand received an excellent education, well grounded in the humanities and government. Ferdinand was an ardent supporter of the arts and music. John named Ferdinand his heir in 1461. He would become King of Sicily, by virtue of his father's alliances, in 1468.
Marriage to Isabella
Henry had continued to attempt to find a political union for Isabella that suited his needs. He betrothed her to Pedro Girón Acuña Pacheco, a union that repelled Isabella. Thankfully, for her, Pedro died while she was traveling to meet him. He attempted to marry her to Alfonso V of Portugal, a union she rebuffed. She made a secret promise during this time to marry the young, handsome Prince Ferdinand of Castile. He was seventeen, she eighteen. Isabella and Ferdinand were second cousins, by virtue of a common descent from John I of Castile, thus they would need a special papal dispensation.  Ferdinand had his supporters prepare the document, which later turned out to be forged. Ferdinand crossed into Castile in disguise to meet Isabella, who had slipped away from her brother's court. They married on October 19, 1469 at the Palacio de los Vivero in the city of Valladolid. The union would last until Isabella's death in 1504 and produce five children.
Union, Reconquista and Columbus' Voyages of Discovery
Isabella would succeed to the throne of Castile in 1474, Ferdinand to the throne of Aragon in 1479. Neither monarch had any political power in the other's realms; however, they ran the kingdoms with united goals. Each kingdom retained its own laws; however, their efforts led to the eventual conquest of the remainder of Spain when they drove out the Muslims, completing the Reconquista in 1492. Later that year they would authorize Columbus' first voyage, forever changing the course of history on three continents.

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Monday, December 11, 2017

Duck Creek Aqueduct


Duck Creek Aqueduct 
Sample Chapter 
Driving the Canals and Rivers  Auto Trail

Franklin County Historical Marker
Erected by:  
National Historical Civil Engineering Landmark 1992
Located: 
South of Canal, East End of Main Street, Metamora, Indiana (#11 on Metamora Map)
Text and History:   
Duck Creek Aqueduct is the only aqueduct that remains of over a hundred that once existed in the U.S.  The poplar trusses rest on limestone abutments, the siding is also poplar and the roof would originally have been shingled.  The aqueduct was built in 1843, destroyed by flood and rebuilt in 1847.  The floor now has a metal sheathing over the planked bed.   The two openings on each side release water into Duck Creek and help control the water level of the canal.

Brief History by the Author
The Duck Creek Aqueduct is the oldest covered bridge style aqueduct remaining in the United States. Constructed by the Whitewater Canal Company, the structure replaced the original open trough aqueduct that washed out in a flood in 1847. The builder of the bridge used a covered bridge that was under construction and adapted it to the current design. The aqueduct carries the waters of the Whitewater Canal over Duck Creek before it empties into the Whitewater River.  It measures approximately ninety feet long, twenty-five feet wide, and twenty-five feet deep. The aqueduct deteriorated through disuse and abandonment. The state of Indiana restored it to the present condition in 1949, a project begun in 1946. The National Register of Historic Places listed it in 2014.
Whitewater Canal Company
Authorized by the Internal Improvements Act of 1836, the State of Indiana authorized the company to build the Whitewater Canal. The company formed because of a meeting from representatives from Dearborn, Fayette, Franklin, Randolph, Union, and Wayne counties in 1822. They appointed seven commissioners to oversee the company. The company sold 40,000 shares of stock at $25 per share. The State of Indiana granted the Company 1.4 million dollars in the budget of the Internal Improvements Act of 1836.

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Sunday, December 10, 2017

A Year of Indiana History Stories - Book 2


Description
A Year of Indiana History Stories - Book 2
A Journal of Indiana Events
A Year of Indiana History Stories Book 2 includes three hundred and sixty-five stories of Indiana history. Hoosier history buffs will enjoy this journal of historic tales, some of which are obscure and little known. Others chronicle important benchmark historical Indiana events

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Other Books in the Series
A Year of Indiana History Stories - Book 1
A Year of Indiana History Stories - Book 2


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Sunday, December 3, 2017

Friday, November 17, 2017

Colonial American History Stories - 1753 - 1763

Colonial American History Stories - 1753 - 1763
Colonial American History 
Stories
 1753 - 1763

Colonial American History Stories - 1753 – 1763 contains almost 300 history stories presented in a timeline that begins in 1655 with the performance of the first documented play performed in British North America and ends with the switch from the Julian to the Gregorian calendar in 1752. The historical events include both famous ones as well as many little known, forgotten stories that the mists time have obscured. These reader friendly stories include:
March 10, 1753- Liberty Bell Hung
April 9, 1754 - Slave Girl Priscilla Begins Her Horrible Journey
April 12, 1755 - Ben Franklin Receives Letter Describing Death by Tapeworm
November 01, 1756 - Samuel Adams Elected Tax Collector
June 28, 1762 - First Reported Counterfeiting Attempt at Boston


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Box Set - 6 Volume
Timeline of United States History Box Set
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All six volumes take you through colonial American history from Christopher Columbus' first voyage to the beginning of the Revolution. Explore the fascinating years that shaped the United States. 
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Colonial American History Stories - 1215 - 1664
Colonial American History Stories - 1665 - 1753
Colonial American History Stories - 1753 - 1763
Colonial American History Stories - 1763 - 1769
Colonial American History Stories - 1770 - 1774
An American Revolution Time Line - 1775


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© Paul Wonning
© Paul Wonning 2017 © Paul R. Wonning 2017

Sample Chapter - Kingdoms in Chaos - The Fall of Torne

Kingdoms in Chaos
Paul R. Wonning
The Fall of Torne

Kingdoms in Chaos
Kingdoms in Chaos
King Nyle Lithian watched his army's destruction from the castle tower. Red dust swirled and began to settle over his beloved kingdom, covering it with its unwholesome stench. Gwaum’s roar resounded across the valley like nightmarish thunder.
"Gwaum has beaten us," he said to his First Minister, Niram Trum.
Trum's voice trembled with the fear his eyes showed as he asked,"What shall we do, Sire?"
The King’s simple reply, "Flee," sent the minister scurrying away.
They descended the stone steps to the king's court. Queen Betsa stood near the window overlooking the courtyard, their young son Ruther by her side. She turned as the King entered the chamber.
"Gwaum has defeated the army," she said, in a terror shrouded voice.
"We must get out of the castle," the King asserted.
With a glance at Niram, he said, "Gather the court aides and their families and go to the dungeons."
The castle walls rumbled. A column gave way and the stones it supported fell, filling the chamber with dust and debris. Prince Ruther's sobs mingled with the crash of falling stones.
Niram's eyes glazed as terror almost overcame him. He cried in alarm, "The buildings will bury us, Sire."
"Just do as I order." The king said, his voice harsh with urgency, impelling the terror-stricken Niram to act. He disappeared into a corridor.
The King walked to a tapestry emblazoned with the royal coat of arms that covered the wall behind the throne. Pulling the tapestry aside, he pressed a dark-colored stone. A trap door in the floor fell away, revealing a dark passage with stone steps. Cool, dank smelling air swept up from its inky depths. His eyes swept to the Queen. "Go, my darling. Take the Prince. You know the way."
The Queen's dark eyes lingered on her husband. "What will you do?"
The king withdrew his scabbard from its place on the wall and belted it on. He pulled on a chain that hung from his neck. A crystal hung from the chain, a crystal that glowed with a silver radiance. He handed it to the Queen. The radiance dimmed.
“I now pass the rule of the kingdom to you, Betsa. You must find a way to save our son, Ruther and sustain the kingdom. I will not give up the kingdom to Gwaum without defending it."
"You will die, Nyle. Do not do this rash thing, my husband. Escape with us. We need you."
"I will not hide like a rat while this creature ravages my kingdom, killing my subjects. My duty is to my people. Take the boy. The House of Lithian will survive. Here is the Star of Torne. Put it on.”
She put the necklace around her neck. As the crystal touched her skin, the radiance returned. She was now the ruler of Torne.
Another bellow from the monster boomed across the city. Portions of the floor fell away and the wall of the king's chamber collapsed. Red dust drifted into the room. A putrid stink filled the air.
"Go," he commanded.
The Queen, tears brimming in her eyes, paused. She threw her arms around her king, husband and lover. Their hands clasped and they bathed themselves in the glow of one last kiss. One last time he felt her smooth skin. Then he let go.
"Go, Betsa. Take our son and flee."
The queen took Ruther's hand and she led them to the passage.
"Papa, Papa, come with us," the boy said, a sob punctuating his plea.
"Go, my son. Someday you will return as King."
More stones fell and the Queen pulled the Prince behind her as her feet clattered down the stone steps towards the dungeon. The king watched them. A moment later a stone fell, crashing into the floor, covering the passage. He could feel the palace shudder. He darted into the hall. Stones lay scattered around the passage, blocking his route. He turned and ran the other way. Threading his way through the destruction, he found another stair. Down he went. Upon reaching the bottom, he kicked at the door that led outside. A moment after he emerged into the courtyard. His feet pumped against the cobblestone street as he ran from the castle. The acrid smell of smoke choked him as he ran. A loud crash announced its fall. He turned to see his once fine palace now a heap of rubble, dust arising from its remains. A moment later, he turned and ran towards the hill, sword drawn. All around he could hear the sound of screams and moans of people caught in their fallen buildings. Fires erupted from many of the rubble piles as cooking fires spread to the wooden support beams. Smoke billowed across the rubble-filled streets, choking him and burning his eyes. People milled about, confused and terrified.
"Run for the hills," the king said, his voice ringing out above the din. "Save yourselves."
The creature, his task of destroying the city complete, strode into the streets. His eye roamed about, seeking more morsels for his insatiable belly. The king stopped.
Gwaum's eyes fixed on the King's royal garb.
"So, I have found the king," he said, an evil smile crossing his lips. "I love the taste of royal flesh."
His hand descended towards the king. The King drew his sword and stabbed at the palm. Gwaum bellowed in pain and his red, hot blood coated the King's upturned face.
Gwaum's eye burned in anger. "You will die now."
"You will not get me without more of your vile blood staining my land."
Gwaum hesitated. He did not wish to fight this man. He had no desire to shed more of his own blood. Gwaum did not like pain. He pointed at a buring pile of rubble near the king with his red finger. The fire flashed, followed by a sharp crack. Flamed leaped from a nearby fire and engulfed the king. His body fell to the ground, charred and smoking.
"I prefer my meat raw," said Gwaum as he picked the king's body from the stone street. "But you I will eat cooked."
He dangled the body over his mouth for a second, and then dropped it into his maw.
The Kingdom of Torne thus ended.

High above the hills above the city a group of people hurried along a narrow path. Queen Betsa stopped for an instant to survey their surroundings. Below them, they could see the fires of the city of Cleery as it burned. Gwaum stalked the city. On occasion, he stooped to pick up some morsel to feed on. Screams, muted by distance, rose in a terrible shroud of sound from the destruction.
Ignoring the terror that slithered down her spine, she turned to search the rocky bluff that towered over the trail. A familiar landmark teased her eye. Pressing against a rock a rumbling sound announced the opening of a dark crevice in the bluff. She pushed the young prince into the dark opening. "Go, Ruther. I will come soon."
"Enter the crevice," she said to the line of people behind her. "Go now, before Gwaum turns to see us."
One by one, the refugees scurried into the crevice. As the last one entered, she stepped inside.
Servants had lit the torches and they lent their smoky odor to the already acrid air. She pressed a stone besides the opening and the crevice closed. She looked at the Prince as he stood facing her. A torch flickered behind him, shrouding his face in darkness.
She closed her eyes for one moment. By now, the king had surely met his fate. This morning she had awakened full of hope that the wizards would prevail and that they would defeat the monster. The horror of their fall and then the crushing defeat of the last of the king's army changed her life forever.
Queen Betsa opened her eyes. She was now the leader of her people and this dark cavern was her realm.

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