Long ago in a faraway kingdom there lived a king and his wife and their daughter, an only child named Danza.  Also living in this kingdom was a madman.  What his motives were, no one knew, for no one really knew who he was, but his purpose in life was to kill.  One of his many freakish styles of killing was to sharpen portions of a spinning wheel, rub a deadly poison into the sharp points, and sell the wheel.  Many a housewife fell dead after pricking herself only slightly.  The people grew terrified, and the king was concerned.  He ordered every spinning wheel checked, and all those that the madman had tampered with were burned.
      When at last the king’s agents captured the madman, the madman laughed at the king.  “Ha!  Thine own daughter is not safe!  She will prick her finger and die from my wheels of death before she is sixteen!”  The king commanded that the man be executed at dawn the next day, but during the night, the madman escaped and vanished.
      Ten years later, when the princess was sixteen, a huge banquet was thrown in her honor.  The princess had become a great beauty, and she did not lack attention from the young noblemen at her father’s table.  But at last, growing weary and exasperated with their affections, she slipped away and wandered through the deep halls of the castle, glad to get away from the crowd.
      Her wanderings brought her to a small room where a person sat spinning.  She entered, and the person looked up.  “Ah, Princess!  A happy birthday to you.  Would you ‘elp an old woman with her spinning.  Me fingers is gettin’ sore.”
      The princess stepped back and gasped.  Being an intelligent girl, she knew immediately that this was no old woman, but a strange man with a wild look in his eyes.  Quicker than Danza could blink, the man shut and bolted the door.  “Now you die, Princess!” he yelled, grabbing her by the wrist and trying to cut her hand on the poisoned spinning wheel.  She screamed and pulled away.  Her free hand broke a jar of sleeping potion, and she fell to the floor in a dead sleep.  The madman, for so it was, stumbled and cut his hand on the wheel, falling dead in seconds.  The king, the queen, and all their courtiers were murdered that day by accomplices of the madman.  Unable to destroy the castle, the murders planted a strange hedge around the castle that grew to an absurd height, completely obscuring the monarch’s residence.

     "What is it, Melissa?" Josephina asked.

     "I have come to help you prepare for your coronation."

     "But I have handmaidens."

     "There is a certain place where you are to prepare, and I have been told to assist you."

     "Very well.  Where is this place?"

     "Follow me."  Melissa turned and threaded her way through the halls. 

     After a while they come to a blank wall.  Melissa stepped up to it and ran her hands over the stone.  Finally she pressed at a certain point as if trying to open some double doors.  Two large panels of stone swung inwards.  Melissa stepped inside the dark passage, found a lantern, lit it, and beckoned for Josephina to follow her. 

     The passage did not continue for long, and they soon came to stairs.  The stairs went on for several flights and ended in a large chamber.  Melissa hung the lantern on the wall and stepped into the darkness, fumbling about.  Suddenly the chamber was filled with light, for Melissa had unhooded a large lantern.  Josephina gasped in amazement at the sight before her.

     The chamber was filled with treasure.  It was not piled haphazardly, as one might find in a dragon's cave, but it was laid out neatly like a museum.  Everything there was perfectly preserved, even the cloths.

     Melissa turned from the lantern.  "I have brought you here to prepare you for the coronation.  This is where the crown jewels of the queens of the Old Kingdom are kept."  Melissa flung open a large wardrobe.  It contained many beautiful dresses.  "Choose one," said Melissa.

     Josephina reached cautiously in and ran her hands over the rich fabric. "Aren't they terribly old?"

     "They were made by the Old Sarconians, and the fabric they wove takes a long time to rot, if it ever does."

     Josephina choose a purple dress made of velvet and lined with satin.  Melissa showed her into a small room where she could dress.  When she came out, Melissa showed her to a low-backed chair in front of a dressing table.

    "Why are you doing this?" Josephina asked.

    "For hundreds of years the queens of the mountains have prepared for their coronations in this chamber," Melissa replied.  She lifted a silver-backed brush from the dressing table and ran it through Josephina's hair.  "After the Old Kingdom became part of Strianel, it also became tradition for a direct female descendant of Amara, the last queen, to help the queen-to-be prepare and attend her during the ceremony."  

     "Why?" Josephina asked.

     "As a sign of allegiance -  a renewing of the promise that we would never attempt to claim the throne unless the entire House of ConRay was destroyed."  Melissa finished brushing Josephina's hair and began to weave it into a complex series of twists and braids.

     "Then you are-"

     "A direct female descendant of Queen Amara," said Melissa quietly.

     "You have great sires."

     "Yes, I do."

     "How much of what is going on is tradition?"

     "Almost all of it.  The way the ceremony will be conducted, the crowns that will be used, even the way I am doing your hair is directed by tradition, passed down through all the years from the time of the Old Kingdom."

     "How will the ceremony be conducted?"

     "You and Tell will walk down the center aisle of the Great Hall, where the kings of the mountains used to hold court.  The thrones are still there.  Tell will be crowned first.  Long ago, the crowning was done by the High Lord Counselor. This time, since there is no one holding the place of High Lord Councilor, it will be done by Gary Tecal, simply because he is the oldest person around here.  Then, by tradition, the King, Tell, will crown the Queen, you.  Tell will receive Nerane, Scepter of Sarconia, and you will receive the Starstone; a diamond beyond compare whose bearer can give pardons that only the king himself can  revoke.  It shines with the light of the stars, and it is said that their light was caught within it. 

    "After this, you will take your seats on the ancient thrones.  Tell will receive Steelfire, the sword of the ancient kings that was made by the Northern Steelsmiths for King Stephen Bijan.  You will receive Starfire, the sword of Queen Jennifer Bijan, also made by the Northern Smiths." 

    Melissa finished pinning Josephina's hair and began stringing jewels through it.  Some were up to an inch-and-a-half across.  "All these jewels have names.  Each one is named after one of the brightest stars in the night sky.  They are Old Sarconian names and beautiful.  Alanama, Teranse and Elante are some of them.  They are worn only at coronations."

     "Steelfire, Starfire and Starstone are not Old Sarconian names, I note," Josephina said. "Do these things not have such names?"

     "The names have Sarconian translations, but the objects were originally named in the common speech, not Sarconain.  Therefore we do not use the Sarconian translations of the names when referring to the objects."

     "You mentioned that tradition directs which crowns are used?"

     "Yes.  The crowns that are used at the coronation are used only at the coronation and on very important days.  You will probably only wear them once or twice in your life after this.  There are other crowns that are used most of the time; these are lighter and more fit for wearing constantly though not decreased in beauty.  Then there are other crowns that are worn during wars, and these are more like beautiful and intricate helms than crowns."  Melissa finished with the jewels and stood back to admire her handiwork.  "There.  You look as a queen of Eld now.  If you'll stay there for a moment..."  Melissa went off to one side of the room, pulled open a drawer and removed some slippers.  "They are made of pure silver," she said.  She slid off Josephina's shoes and replaced them with the slippers.  "They are comfortable, yes?"

     "They are!"  Josephina was amazed at how well the slippers fit her and how easily they flexed with the movement of her feet.  They seemed to be made of several small scales of silver all joined together and were traced in delicate patterns.  "Am I ready yet?"

     "Almost."  Melissa opened a jewelry box full of bracelets.  "Tigers eye," she said with satisfaction.  "It blends beautifully with most colors.  It also, according to tradition, symbolizes strength."  She drew out a set of bracelets and clasped them around Josephina's wrists.  "Would you like to look in a mirror?"

     "I guess."

     Josephina rose, and Melissa drew her to the side so that she stood in front of a full-length mirror.

     "Oh!" gasped Josephina.  "I hardly recognize myself!"

     "You are taking on the bearing of a queen."

     "Do I go to my chambers now?"

     "No.  We wait down here.  There is a passage that leads to right outside the Great Hall.  We will meet Tell there.  If you will excuse me, I will prepare myself." Melissa bowed and, to Josephina's surprise, backed away a few steps before turning away to a side chamber.

     Josephina walked amongst the treasures while she waited for Melissa.  When the latter returned, she was dressed in dark blue satin.  Her long hair was hanging loose down her back, restrained only by some sapphire studded combs, and a sapphire choker was around her neck.  The slippers she wore were like Josephina's although they lacked the intricate filigree.

    "It is almost time," Melissa said.  She walked over to the wardrobe and drew out a long train that matched the dress.  It attached to the shoulders of Josephina's dress, hung down her back, and trailed on the floor behind her for several feet.  "We will go through this door," said Melissa.  She swung open a carved wood door then stepped back, gesturing for Josephina to go through.

    Josephina tread slowly up the stairs.  Melissa came behind her, handling the train.  There were pictures of all the queens on the walls.  Josephina ascended past them and finally came to the head of the stairs.  The doors leading to the palace halls swung silently open in front of her and she entered the small, high ceilinged room that opened into the Great Hall.  Tell was already there waiting; Melissa's brother, Jack, was with him.  Tell was dressed in a dark blue tunic of velvet and Jack was similarly arrayed, although he was dressed in green.  Josephina, surprised at Jack's presence, looked at Melissa in confusion.  Melissa leaned over and whispered: "It is tradition for a direct male descendant of Queen Amara to assist the King before and during the coronation for the same reasons as I am assisting you."

    "I see," said Josephina.

    Melissa smiled, then turned her attention to Josephina's train, which was twisted.  About the time the purple, shimmering mass had been gotten under control, a messenger came into the room to tell them they were going to enter momentarily.  Josephina turned to Melissa.

     "Is there a particular way we walk down the hall?" she asked.

     "Not really...Josephina, I forgot to mention that you stand on the top step of the dais until the King is crowned."

     "Do we hold hands?" Josephina asked.

     "In a way," Jack replied.  "Tell, you hold your hand out like you were getting ready to shake hands, except more relaxed and with your elbow bent...Josephina, you put your hand over his...not like that...Melissa, help me here,"

     "Like this," Melissa said, placing her hand over Jack's in the proper manner. "There you go.  Jack and I have to hold each other's hands in the same way."

     "Yeah," said Jack. "I have to act like I actually like my sister."

     Melissa hit him lightly on the arm with her free hand. "Behave yourself, Jack.  This is a coronation."

     Jack grinned wickedly, then suddenly switched to a calm, sober expression as a trumpet fanfare announced their entrance and the doors to the Great Hall swung open. 

    Tell and Josephina began to walk down the long carpeted hall. Josephina’s long, wide-sleeved dress shimmered purple in the candlelight, and the gems that Melissa had scattered through her hair crowned her with stars.  Jack and Melissa followed them at a respectful distance.  Finally they reached the dais at the end of the hall.  Jack and Melissa only mounted the first step of the dais, then backed almost to its corners.  Tell climbed to the top of the dais; Josephina stood on the top step. Tell knelt; Gary Tecal placed a silver crown inlaid with many gems on his head and stepped aside, bowing. Tell rose smoothly to his feet.

    "Long live the King!" cried Gary. The cry echoed through the hall for a moment, then it was drowned in a deafening wave of cheering. Tell lifted a hand for silence after a moment. The crowd quieted. Josephina stepped onto the dais and knelt at Tell’s feet. He placed an intricately wrought crown on her head and gently raised her to her feet. "Your Queen!" he cried. The yells raised the roof.

     Jack and Melissa now mounted to the dais.  Jack lifted Nerane, the Scepter of Sarconia, from its velvet casing and presented it to Tell.  Then he knelt briefly and backed away to the top step.  Melissa stepped forward and lifted the Starstone from its case.  Turning, she clasped it around Josephina's neck, curtsied deeply and backed away to the top step.

     King Tell and Queen Josephina took their seats on the ancient thrones.  They were presented with the swords Steelfire and Starfire and the cheering was renewed for a time, then resided as Melissa began to sing.

    Almost everyone, not just the few lore-masters, could understand her, for she sang in Old Sarconian.  All knew it was the Coronation Song, one of blessing.  It ran slow, steady and sweet.  When Melissa had finished singing, she spoke the traditional benediction:  "May your swords be swift, may your words be wise, may your dealings be just, may your path be smooth and may your line never die."  With that said, the new king and queen rose and exited the hall, their path strewn with flowers.  Once again, Jack and Melissa followed them.

Exerpt from Chapter One of Outlawed by Justyne K. and Jane E.  (We recomend that scary music should be listened to while reading this to enhance viewing quality.)

With a sigh, Rob and Scarlet returned to bed.  Both were fast asleep in minutes, and they did not hear the clunk as the front door swung against the umbrella stand. The long shadow of a man was cast upon the oriental rug in the entry way.  There were no distinguishing features except for the cowboy hat that sat upon the figure’s head.  After scanning the hall swiftly, the figure advanced up the wide staircase without a sound.  He casually traced his fingers over the gold figurines at the top of the stairs, then his eyes centered on a bedroom door that was cracking open.
The bald butler shuffled out of his room, the end of his nightcap swinging.  He looked in shock at the intruder and shook to the very tips of his bunny-rabbit slippers.  The figure stepped forward, lifting an arm.  The butler released an astonishingly high-pitched scream that would have made the best soprano green with envy before he was knocked out on the floor.
Rob sat up, staring into the darkness.  The street lamp bulb had spluttered out, and there was almost no light in the room.
“I knew we should have gotten a British butler,” Scarlet moaned sleepily, rolling over.
Rob rose from the air mattress, then froze as the door started to open.  A sliver of light fell on Rob’s worried face as he moved towards the still-sleeping Scarlet.  When he turned back, the door was shut, and a dark blur stood in front of it.  All Rob could clearly see was the white cowboy hat that sat about six feet off the ground, shining in the starlight.
Then the figure leaped forward, knocking Rob to the floor.  Rob felt hot breath on his neck, and the intruder’s teeth fastened on his throat.  “AAHHHH!!” Rob yelled, kicking the man off of him.  He jumped up, dropping into a fighting stance, scanning the room frantically for his antagonist.  The white hat was gone; nothing could be seen.  He cocked his head to listen, but in that instant he was once more thrown to the floor.  Fingernails dug into his arms, and teeth snapped near his ear.  The two men rolled across the floor and under the bed in a flutter of notebooks and shoes.   Rob felt himself being crushed under the other man’s weight.  The man’s hands gripped his throat, and Rob tried futilely attempt to draw breath.  Frenzied by this, Rob seized a shoe and slammed the heel of it into the other man’s face.  A beast-like cry came from the intruder.
A hand grabbed Rob’s ankle, and he was jerked from under the bed, the intruder still on him.  Rob cried out and thrashed, afraid that the intruder had not been alone.  Then he caught a glimpse of red and knew that Scarlet had awoken.  Kicking the trespasser in the ribs, Scarlet helped Rob up from the floor.  The figure rose from the floor.  The moon had risen, and they could see the blood running from his mouth and down his chin. 
“I’ve got the police on their way!” Scarlet cried, waving her glowing cell phone.
The man smiled crookedly at the two cousins.  “We’ll finish this later.”  Brushing past them, he left the room.  They followed him out into the hall and looked both ways, but saw nothing.  The front door was closed and bolted, and there was no sign of the intruder having gone out the window at the other end of the hall.
“Are you okay?” Scarlet asked Rob.
“Mostly,” he responded.  “I’m getting a gun tomorrow.”
“But guns are illegal!” Scarlet protested.
“I can’t fight that...person...thing...otherwise.  Sometimes law and right are two different things.”

Copyright 2008 by Justyne Kayce

A pouring rain set in at mid-morning, drenching the trampled earth below the walls and turning it into oozing mud. Slender streamlets of water ran along the top of the walls and poured out drainage holes that led to the next tier and eventually the ground, sending a cascade of water over anyone who happened to be below. Arrow, who had stayed below with Joshuel, was the unfortunate victim of one of the sudden waterfalls and promptly took out his rage on two unlucky Aranara. The battle raged all through the day.

Jasper saw nothing, knew nothing but the deadly business of war.  He concentrated on the areas where the Aranara were attacking.  The Aranara were invaders, and most of them had been trained to hate the Sarconians with every bone in their body.  Jasper knew that if he did not defend himself from them, they would either kill him on the spot or take him prisoner and kill him by inches later.  The tribesmen were a different matter.  They were following the person that they thought was king, and would probably turn right over to the Sarconian's side if they knew that Reginald was a usurper.  Jasper wanted to avoid killing them if he could.  Suddenly, there was a yell for assistance from Jonathan.  He and his brother were being almost overwhelmed by a large group of tribesmen.  Jasper moaned, but ran to help them, deciding to fight as defensively as possible.

But there was something about battles that stole your reason.  Perhaps it was the fact that, in this kind of situation, it was kill or be killed.  Jasper lost his head to the extent that he forgot all about fighting defensively.  He attacked anyone in an enemy uniform with a dreadful, merciless violence.  His sword was no longer guided by conscious thought, but by subconscious, automatic responses that had been drilled into him during the long hours of sword practice.  Jasper did not think.  He did not have to.  But this lack of thought betrayed him as he realized that, for the last ten seconds, he had been killing unarmed men, men who, terrified by his fury, had dropped their swords and surrendered.

It was Jonathan who first saw the look in Jasper's eyes and turned pale.  Then Jack noticed it, but they were powerless to do anything about it.  Jasper's eyes held the haunted look of someone who no longer wishes to even attempt to stay alive.  Exhausted, Jasper did not have the mental capacity to not only realize a mistake but work through it as well and continue with life.  Turning, he slung himself into the thickest part of the combat and probably would have jumped off the wall, climbed down a siege tower, and started fighting all those on the ground by himself had Jonathan not pulled him back by his collar and slung him in a different direction.  Astounded, they watched him fight like ten men, causing the attackers to fall back to several yards from the boy.  "C'mon, you dastards!" Jasper yelled at the nervous Aranara, brandishing his slightly notched sword.  "Scared of one paltry boy, are you?  Cowards!"   He stuck his tongue out at them.  "Mehhh!!"

Infuriated, the Aranara charged at Jasper from all sides.  Jonathan rolled his eyes Joshuel, and the two charged into the fray to keep their mentally incapacitated friend from being killed.

Vana stoc yon cab antelorn gen stocalthea,

Stocfach altheaden terest zow yora hos vastorasy.

Fach den whista terestloto cab kachvon,

Fach den zothou oush cab wochde.

Redo doc droha ov cab oushle ov eld,

Stocyos fach veld enodsy yataevay dengal.

Althea can lee ov can olpe.

Althea wre terestofna ni can veld pordtalsy.

Naom elst can zav ulan era nin woun,

genoy ounsy ulan thanolee loto etel kel.

Can ylod ov kach gen den ni rohden tournaom.

Yos stoc stocalthea enodsy quen stanlee.

Stan do octolee drehounda yatae len rossterra?

Stan do octolee ounden dorn hos can faltoterra?

Ounden wack gen lisl ounden torv nin vibra.

Bylada terestsy thie drehounda rosstofna can teran.

I know.  You think I've gone crazy, mattering on in gibberish like this.  I suppose it is a form of gibberish, but I call it Old Sarconian.  Here's an Enlish translation for you.  Keep in mind that the translation I am giving you is NOT literal and word for word.

Sarconian Song To Mourn The Fallen Ones

Say not that the fallen one is not remembered,

Let not their memory go like rain on the mountains.

Let their banner lead the battle,

Let their torch light the night.

Tell your child of the days of old.

Do not let great deeds become myth.

Remember the past of the nation.

Remember, and follow in the noble footsteps.

Weep for the brave who are no more

Young men who died before full age.

The glory of war is their's in its sadness.

Do not forget what they have done.

Have you seen my brother come from afar?

Have you seen his face on the plain?

His sword is still, his bow has no thrum.

My heart goes with him beyond the stars.

Scroll down below this post for updates from Theynore and an AMAZING poem by Kantare!

Excerpt from 'Outlaw' by Justyne K. and Jane E.

Rob?" Robert Lock's cousin, Scarlet Johnson, stuck her head into his room.

Rob shoved a stray lock of red hair out of his face as he looked up from his book to his cousin, who was dressed, as ever, in red. "What?" he asked.

Scarlet stepped into the room, fooling absently with the ties on her elegant velvet bathrobe. "I've dug the air mattress out of the garage; could you sleep on my floor tonight?"

Rob lifted an eyebrow. Scarlet was nineteen, only two years younger than he and well past being scared of monsters in the closet or other creatures that lived under beds and in dark corners. "Um, why?" he asked.

"Harold Guisborne tried to get into my room last night. I dropped an egg on his head and hit him with my wooden spoon, but the dolt says that he loves me and will be back."

"Have you ever considered getting the trellis that leads to your window removed?"

"I don't want to."

"So you want me to protect you?"

"You presence will discourage him, I think."

Rob sighed. "Alright." He would much rather spend the night in his own room, but with the safety of his cousin on the line, he would have forfeit that luxury.

Scarlet's room was red. The walls were a lighter, blue base red with shiny, dark wood trim. The curtains on her window and canopy bed were a darker shade of red. A trellis with red roses climbing up it came up the side of the house to her second story window. Rob would have liked the room very much had it not been for the fact that the right-hand wall was hung with spoons of all shapes, sizes and colors. Spoons made Rob nervous. He had come to live with his aunt and uncle several years ago, when he was still a child. He and Scarlet had gotten along...most of the time. When they hadn't, she had always hit him over the head with one of her many spoons. And so Rob always flinched when he saw the wall of spoons.

Scarlet slipped off her bathrobe as she and Rob came into the room. She wore satin pajama bottoms with a loose, sleeveless, satin top. She was modest, but comfortable. Red blankets were piled on the air mattress, and Rob, averting his eyes from the disturbing wall of spoons, began arranging them as Scarlet slipped into her own bed. Soon the lights flickered out.

Rob could not sleep. He was lying, after all, right next to the spoon wall, directly under the pride of Scarlet's collection: a three foot long silver spoon that was always polished to shimmering perfection. Scarlet had never hit him with that particular spoon and had promised that she never would, but its proximity still unnerved him.

There was a rustle under the window. "Scarlet," Rob hissed, reaching up and grabbing her foot briefly to wake her.

Scarlet slid out of bed and wrapped her bathrobe about her, grabbing her wooden spoon from the nightstand. They crept to the window together. Scarlet stuck her head out. Harold was clambering awkwardly up the trellis, his orange bell-bottoms and coat clashing with his purple shirt and getting in his way. He looked up at Scarlet. "Dear heart! I come to you again."

Scarlet glared at him and hit him on the head slightly to the left of his bright green mohawk. Rob leaned out the window next to her. "If you want to see my cousin," he said sternly, "use the front door during the day."

Harold stopped climbing. "But..this is more- ow! romantic- ow! Please, Scarlet - OW!!" He let go with one hand and covered his head with an arm as Scarlet wacked him on the head. "But I love you! OOOWWWW!!" Rob had sized the spoon and delivered his own resounding blow.

"Desist, I beg you!" Harold wailed.

Rob handed the spoon back to Scarlet and glared at him. "You desist. Your behavior toward my cousin is not appropriate and not to be tolerated. Take yourself off before I decide to deal with you personally."

"Rob!" exclaimed Scarlet. "I want to deal with him."

"Well," said Rob, "I'm helping."

"As you like it," said Scarlet, shrugging.

Harold looked unsettled. Both Rob and Scarlet had studied martial arts extensively and were quite capable of 'dealing' with someone. He started to back down the trellis as hurriedly as possible without losing his balance.

"Don't let me catch you sneaking in here again," said Rob.

Harold fled.