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Re: [Flewelling] White Road Snippet

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  • Amy Harlib
    aharlib@earthlink.net Wow! That s terrific! Can t wait for the book more than ever. My free lance professional copy editor/proof reader eyes caught a typo
    Message 1 of 12 , Jul 26, 2009
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      aharlib@...
      Wow! That's terrific! Can't wait for the book more than ever. My free
      lance professional copy editor/proof reader eyes caught a typo (7th
      paragraph, 2nd line).

      Others marks circled his shins like the patterns on the
      Other marks circled his shins like the patterns on the

      If you or anyone else on this list needs my skills, please contact me
      off-list.

      Cheers!
      Amy
      Subject: [Flewelling] White Road Snippet


      We haven't had a snippet here in a while. Here's something a little
      different from The White Road:

      Here you go! Something a little different.


      It took Seneth ä Matriel Danata Hâzadriël, Khirnari of the Hâzadriëlfaie
      people, and her escort several hours steep riding to reach the Retha'noi
      witch man's hut, which stood in an ash grove near the edge of his mountain
      village. Seneth had started after an early breakfast, and now the midday sun
      was glinting harshly on the distant crags framing Ravensfel Pass.

      The hut was a small, round structure made from sticks and withy, and covered
      in stretched deer hide. There was no sign of Turmay, except for a thin plume
      of smoke rising from the hole in the center of the roof.

      "Stay here," Seneth ordered the other riders. Going to the low door, she
      pulled the long fronts of her coat and tunic back from her trousered legs
      and crawled on hands and knees into the witch's hut. The change from early
      morning light reflecting off snow left her nearly blind for an instant,
      except for the column of light shining through the smoke hole and the glow
      of the fire beneath.

      "Welcome, Khirnari," the witch greeted her, and now she could make him out,
      sitting cross-legged on the far side of the fire, wearing nothing but a
      crude loin cloth.

      "Thank you for word of good news, my friend." It was hot and close, too.
      She shrugged off her fur-lined coat and sat down on a pile of furs across
      the fire from the witch. Turmay's eyes were closed, his stooped body so
      still that he appeared to not even be breathing. His grey curls hung
      motionless over his shoulders.

      She'd seen the witch marks on his hands and face the night that her friend,
      Belan ä Talía, had brought him to her after both had seen visions of a
      tayan'gil- or "white child," as he put it- far away in the south. Someplace
      where a tayan'gil had no business being made.

      Half-naked as he was, she could see the elaborate witch marks that covered
      his shoulders and chest. Others marks circled his shins like the patterns on
      the oo'lu lying silent across his lap. Seneth had known generations of
      Retha'noi over the course of her long life. Only the male witches used the
      oo'lu- a long, intricately decorated horn made from a hollowed out sapling.
      Each horn was unique, except for the ring of beeswax that served as a
      mouthpiece, and a black handprint somewhere along the smooth polished
      length. Turmay must have been playing it quite recently; the tingle of
      Retha'noi magic hung in the air, enveloping her like a scent.

      Which was better than the smell of the hovel: sweat and hides, sour milk,
      pungent smoke dried meat, and a body that would not see a proper bath until
      spring.

      "Did you find the ride difficult, Khirnari?"

      Seneth started as Belan ä Talía leaned forward into the circle of firelight.
      "What have you learned, my friend?" she asked them both. Belan was a seer, a
      rarity among their kind and probably due to her mixed blood. The rare
      intermarriage with the Retha'noi had gradually become tolerated, since the
      hill folk had proven to be staunch allies and kept to the valley as
      jealously as the `faie, if not more so. Breeding with an outsider, though?
      That was unthinkable, and strictly prohibited.

      "The tayan'gil is in Aurënen," Belan replied. Belan and Turmay had been
      searching together ever since they'd had their first visions of the
      tayan'gil.

      "Aurënen? Are you telling me that the Aurënfaie would create such a
      creature?"

      "Who can say, Khirnari? We only know that there is one there."

      "Where in Aurënen?"

      The witch opened his eyes at last and she saw that they were red rimmed and
      bloodshot. "I can show you, though I don't know the name of the place."

      He lifted the wax mouthpiece of the oo'lu and settled his lips inside it.
      Puffing out his cheeks, he began to play. This horn was almost four feet
      long and he had to shift to keep the end of it out of the fire.

      It was not music, though the strange buzzing, hooting, booming drone
      produced by the oo'lu was not unpleasant. If one listened attentively, you
      could hear the sawing song of summer cicadas, the bellow of a bull, the
      peeping of tiny marsh frogs, and bird calls. The patterns were complex, when
      played by an expert. It was impossible for those not trained to it to get
      more than a breathy farting sound out of it.

      Turmay played a soft song this time, with the hiss of wind over snow and owl
      calls mingled with the slow drone.

      "Close your eyes and touch the oo'lu," Belan told her.

      Seneth did so, and the horn, so smooth and warmed by the witch's breath,
      vibrated against her palm.
      Light flared behind her closed lids as if she'd stepped outside again, then
      she had the dizzying sensation of flying up through the smoke hole.

      Confused images tumbled across the surface of her mind-the blurred glimpses
      of brown steppes, mountains less jagged than those that protected her
      fai'thast, and the flash of sunlight across great a broad expanse of water.

      The Great Lake, near the human town called Wolde. Years ago she'd ventured
      from the valley as an Ebrados rider and they'd stolen through the sleeping
      town. She could still remember the reek of the place, and the filth. But
      that lake! Standing on the shore under a full moon, she'd never seen
      anything so beautiful.

      But Turmay's magic carried her on, further and further from anything
      familiar over forests and grasslands, and over a body of water that made the
      lake seem no more than a puddle.

      The sea, the witch whispered in her mind through the droning of the oo'lu.
      My people once lived all around its shores, until the light skinned people
      drove us into the mountains. We were fishermen and sailors, and the cries of
      the gulls are still in our bones. The oo'lu song shifted to a strange,
      high-pitched call, like that of the white birds she'd seen circling the
      lake. Beyond, and beyond again lies your true homeland, Seneth, daughter of
      Matriel.

      They passed over a mountainous island, and then over the sea again to a land
      unlike her own except for the spine of mountains bleak against a dark blue
      sky.

      "Aurënen," Belan told her, sounding very far away.

      The swath of land between the mountains and the sea was pale and dry like a
      bone. Turmay's magic carried her to a town on the shore. The tiny houses
      along the water looked like nubs of white chalk set in sand, with familiar
      domed roofs.

      The white child is here.

      Can you show it to me?

      I cannot see it, but I feel its presence like a canker in my mind.



      ------------------------------------



      Lynn's official web-site - www.sff.net/people/Lynn.Flewelling

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    • lynn.flewelling
      ... Thanks for catching that!
      Message 2 of 12 , Jul 26, 2009
      • 0 Attachment
        --- In Flewelling@yahoogroups.com, "Amy Harlib" <aharlib@...> wrote:
        >
        >
        > aharlib@...
        > Wow! That's terrific! Can't wait for the book more than ever. My free
        > lance professional copy editor/proof reader eyes caught a typo (7th
        > paragraph, 2nd line).
        >
        > Others marks circled his shins like the patterns on the
        > Other marks circled his shins like the patterns on the

        Thanks for catching that!
        >
        > If you or anyone else on this list needs my skills, please contact me
        > off-list.
        >
        > Cheers!
        > Amy
        > Subject: [Flewelling] White Road Snippet
        >
        >
        > We haven't had a snippet here in a while. Here's something a little
        > different from The White Road:
        >
        > Here you go! Something a little different.
        >
        >
        > It took Seneth ä Matriel Danata Hâzadriël, Khirnari of the Hâzadriëlfaie
        > people, and her escort several hours steep riding to reach the Retha'noi
        > witch man's hut, which stood in an ash grove near the edge of his mountain
        > village. Seneth had started after an early breakfast, and now the midday sun
        > was glinting harshly on the distant crags framing Ravensfel Pass.
        >
        > The hut was a small, round structure made from sticks and withy, and covered
        > in stretched deer hide. There was no sign of Turmay, except for a thin plume
        > of smoke rising from the hole in the center of the roof.
        >
        > "Stay here," Seneth ordered the other riders. Going to the low door, she
        > pulled the long fronts of her coat and tunic back from her trousered legs
        > and crawled on hands and knees into the witch's hut. The change from early
        > morning light reflecting off snow left her nearly blind for an instant,
        > except for the column of light shining through the smoke hole and the glow
        > of the fire beneath.
        >
        > "Welcome, Khirnari," the witch greeted her, and now she could make him out,
        > sitting cross-legged on the far side of the fire, wearing nothing but a
        > crude loin cloth.
        >
        > "Thank you for word of good news, my friend." It was hot and close, too.
        > She shrugged off her fur-lined coat and sat down on a pile of furs across
        > the fire from the witch. Turmay's eyes were closed, his stooped body so
        > still that he appeared to not even be breathing. His grey curls hung
        > motionless over his shoulders.
        >
        > She'd seen the witch marks on his hands and face the night that her friend,
        > Belan ä Talía, had brought him to her after both had seen visions of a
        > tayan'gil- or "white child," as he put it- far away in the south. Someplace
        > where a tayan'gil had no business being made.
        >
        > Half-naked as he was, she could see the elaborate witch marks that covered
        > his shoulders and chest. Others marks circled his shins like the patterns on
        > the oo'lu lying silent across his lap. Seneth had known generations of
        > Retha'noi over the course of her long life. Only the male witches used the
        > oo'lu- a long, intricately decorated horn made from a hollowed out sapling.
        > Each horn was unique, except for the ring of beeswax that served as a
        > mouthpiece, and a black handprint somewhere along the smooth polished
        > length. Turmay must have been playing it quite recently; the tingle of
        > Retha'noi magic hung in the air, enveloping her like a scent.
        >
        > Which was better than the smell of the hovel: sweat and hides, sour milk,
        > pungent smoke dried meat, and a body that would not see a proper bath until
        > spring.
        >
        > "Did you find the ride difficult, Khirnari?"
        >
        > Seneth started as Belan ä Talía leaned forward into the circle of firelight.
        > "What have you learned, my friend?" she asked them both. Belan was a seer, a
        > rarity among their kind and probably due to her mixed blood. The rare
        > intermarriage with the Retha'noi had gradually become tolerated, since the
        > hill folk had proven to be staunch allies and kept to the valley as
        > jealously as the `faie, if not more so. Breeding with an outsider, though?
        > That was unthinkable, and strictly prohibited.
        >
        > "The tayan'gil is in Aurënen," Belan replied. Belan and Turmay had been
        > searching together ever since they'd had their first visions of the
        > tayan'gil.
        >
        > "Aurënen? Are you telling me that the Aurënfaie would create such a
        > creature?"
        >
        > "Who can say, Khirnari? We only know that there is one there."
        >
        > "Where in Aurënen?"
        >
        > The witch opened his eyes at last and she saw that they were red rimmed and
        > bloodshot. "I can show you, though I don't know the name of the place."
        >
        > He lifted the wax mouthpiece of the oo'lu and settled his lips inside it.
        > Puffing out his cheeks, he began to play. This horn was almost four feet
        > long and he had to shift to keep the end of it out of the fire.
        >
        > It was not music, though the strange buzzing, hooting, booming drone
        > produced by the oo'lu was not unpleasant. If one listened attentively, you
        > could hear the sawing song of summer cicadas, the bellow of a bull, the
        > peeping of tiny marsh frogs, and bird calls. The patterns were complex, when
        > played by an expert. It was impossible for those not trained to it to get
        > more than a breathy farting sound out of it.
        >
        > Turmay played a soft song this time, with the hiss of wind over snow and owl
        > calls mingled with the slow drone.
        >
        > "Close your eyes and touch the oo'lu," Belan told her.
        >
        > Seneth did so, and the horn, so smooth and warmed by the witch's breath,
        > vibrated against her palm.
        > Light flared behind her closed lids as if she'd stepped outside again, then
        > she had the dizzying sensation of flying up through the smoke hole.
        >
        > Confused images tumbled across the surface of her mind-the blurred glimpses
        > of brown steppes, mountains less jagged than those that protected her
        > fai'thast, and the flash of sunlight across great a broad expanse of water.
        >
        > The Great Lake, near the human town called Wolde. Years ago she'd ventured
        > from the valley as an Ebrados rider and they'd stolen through the sleeping
        > town. She could still remember the reek of the place, and the filth. But
        > that lake! Standing on the shore under a full moon, she'd never seen
        > anything so beautiful.
        >
        > But Turmay's magic carried her on, further and further from anything
        > familiar over forests and grasslands, and over a body of water that made the
        > lake seem no more than a puddle.
        >
        > The sea, the witch whispered in her mind through the droning of the oo'lu.
        > My people once lived all around its shores, until the light skinned people
        > drove us into the mountains. We were fishermen and sailors, and the cries of
        > the gulls are still in our bones. The oo'lu song shifted to a strange,
        > high-pitched call, like that of the white birds she'd seen circling the
        > lake. Beyond, and beyond again lies your true homeland, Seneth, daughter of
        > Matriel.
        >
        > They passed over a mountainous island, and then over the sea again to a land
        > unlike her own except for the spine of mountains bleak against a dark blue
        > sky.
        >
        > "Aurënen," Belan told her, sounding very far away.
        >
        > The swath of land between the mountains and the sea was pale and dry like a
        > bone. Turmay's magic carried her to a town on the shore. The tiny houses
        > along the water looked like nubs of white chalk set in sand, with familiar
        > domed roofs.
        >
        > The white child is here.
        >
        > Can you show it to me?
        >
        > I cannot see it, but I feel its presence like a canker in my mind.
        >
        >
        >
        > ------------------------------------
        >
        >
        >
        > Lynn's official web-site - www.sff.net/people/Lynn.Flewelling
        >
        > Post message: Flewelling@yahoogroups.com
        > Subscribe: Flewelling-subscribe@yahoogroups.com
        > Unsubscribe: Flewelling-unsubscribe@yahoogroups.com
        > List owner: Flewelling-owner@yahoogroups.com
        > URL to this page: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Flewelling
        > Yahoo! Groups Links
        >
        >
        >
        >
        >
        > --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
        >
        >
        >
        > No virus found in this incoming message.
        > Checked by AVG - www.avg.com
        > Version: 8.5.375 / Virus Database: 270.13.30/2263 - Release Date: 07/26/09
        > 06:33:00
        >
      • Wendy Williams
        Very nice Lynn! I so can t wait until it comes out, which is still so very far away. Maybe I should reread the series before hand, but I ve lent them to my
        Message 3 of 12 , Jul 26, 2009
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          Very nice Lynn! I so can't wait until it comes out, which is still so
          very far away. Maybe I should reread the series before hand, but I've
          lent them to my sister... Who knows, by the time she finishes reading
          them, the fifth book'll be out. Of course, I'll read it first, but at
          least she'd get to read it with everything fresh in her mind. :)
        • Kristina Siers
          Hi, thanks for sharing, Lynn! I m really, really excited about the book now. *bounces impatintly* Greetings, Aryana
          Message 4 of 12 , Jul 26, 2009
          • 0 Attachment
            Hi,
            thanks for sharing, Lynn!
            I'm really, really excited about the book now. *bounces impatintly*
            Greetings,
            Aryana
          • Brenda
            oh wow! a long snippet! I can t wait for the book to come out! whoop! excited! thanks lynn!!!! ... From: lynn.flewelling To: Flewelling@yahoogroups.com Sent:
            Message 5 of 12 , Jul 28, 2009
            • 0 Attachment
              oh wow! a long snippet! I can't wait for the book to come out! whoop! excited! thanks lynn!!!!

              ----- Original Message -----
              From: lynn.flewelling
              To: Flewelling@yahoogroups.com
              Sent: Sunday, July 26, 2009 8:21 AM
              Subject: [Flewelling] White Road Snippet


              We haven't had a snippet here in a while. Here's something a little different from The White Road:

              Here you go! Something a little different.

              It took Seneth ä Matriel Danata Hâzadriël, Khirnari of the Hâzadriëlfaie people, and her escort several hours steep riding to reach the Retha'noi witch man's hut, which stood in an ash grove near the edge of his mountain village. Seneth had started after an early breakfast, and now the midday sun was glinting harshly on the distant crags framing Ravensfel Pass.

              The hut was a small, round structure made from sticks and withy, and covered in stretched deer hide. There was no sign of Turmay, except for a thin plume of smoke rising from the hole in the center of the roof.

              "Stay here," Seneth ordered the other riders. Going to the low door, she pulled the long fronts of her coat and tunic back from her trousered legs and crawled on hands and knees into the witch's hut. The change from early morning light reflecting off snow left her nearly blind for an instant, except for the column of light shining through the smoke hole and the glow of the fire beneath.

              "Welcome, Khirnari," the witch greeted her, and now she could make him out, sitting cross-legged on the far side of the fire, wearing nothing but a crude loin cloth.

              "Thank you for word of good news, my friend." It was hot and close, too. She shrugged off her fur-lined coat and sat down on a pile of furs across the fire from the witch. Turmay's eyes were closed, his stooped body so still that he appeared to not even be breathing. His grey curls hung motionless over his shoulders.

              She'd seen the witch marks on his hands and face the night that her friend, Belan ä Talía, had brought him to her after both had seen visions of a tayan'gil- or "white child," as he put it- far away in the south. Someplace where a tayan'gil had no business being made.

              Half-naked as he was, she could see the elaborate witch marks that covered his shoulders and chest. Others marks circled his shins like the patterns on the oo'lu lying silent across his lap. Seneth had known generations of Retha'noi over the course of her long life. Only the male witches used the oo'lu- a long, intricately decorated horn made from a hollowed out sapling. Each horn was unique, except for the ring of beeswax that served as a mouthpiece, and a black handprint somewhere along the smooth polished length. Turmay must have been playing it quite recently; the tingle of Retha'noi magic hung in the air, enveloping her like a scent.

              Which was better than the smell of the hovel: sweat and hides, sour milk, pungent smoke dried meat, and a body that would not see a proper bath until spring.

              "Did you find the ride difficult, Khirnari?"

              Seneth started as Belan ä Talía leaned forward into the circle of firelight. "What have you learned, my friend?" she asked them both. Belan was a seer, a rarity among their kind and probably due to her mixed blood. The rare intermarriage with the Retha'noi had gradually become tolerated, since the hill folk had proven to be staunch allies and kept to the valley as jealously as the `faie, if not more so. Breeding with an outsider, though? That was unthinkable, and strictly prohibited.

              "The tayan'gil is in Aurënen," Belan replied. Belan and Turmay had been searching together ever since they'd had their first visions of the tayan'gil.

              "Aurënen? Are you telling me that the Aurënfaie would create such a creature?"

              "Who can say, Khirnari? We only know that there is one there."

              "Where in Aurënen?"

              The witch opened his eyes at last and she saw that they were red rimmed and bloodshot. "I can show you, though I don't know the name of the place."

              He lifted the wax mouthpiece of the oo'lu and settled his lips inside it. Puffing out his cheeks, he began to play. This horn was almost four feet long and he had to shift to keep the end of it out of the fire.

              It was not music, though the strange buzzing, hooting, booming drone produced by the oo'lu was not unpleasant. If one listened attentively, you could hear the sawing song of summer cicadas, the bellow of a bull, the peeping of tiny marsh frogs, and bird calls. The patterns were complex, when played by an expert. It was impossible for those not trained to it to get more than a breathy farting sound out of it.

              Turmay played a soft song this time, with the hiss of wind over snow and owl calls mingled with the slow drone.

              "Close your eyes and touch the oo'lu," Belan told her.

              Seneth did so, and the horn, so smooth and warmed by the witch's breath, vibrated against her palm.
              Light flared behind her closed lids as if she'd stepped outside again, then she had the dizzying sensation of flying up through the smoke hole.

              Confused images tumbled across the surface of her mind-the blurred glimpses of brown steppes, mountains less jagged than those that protected her fai'thast, and the flash of sunlight across great a broad expanse of water.

              The Great Lake, near the human town called Wolde. Years ago she'd ventured from the valley as an Ebrados rider and they'd stolen through the sleeping town. She could still remember the reek of the place, and the filth. But that lake! Standing on the shore under a full moon, she'd never seen anything so beautiful.

              But Turmay's magic carried her on, further and further from anything familiar over forests and grasslands, and over a body of water that made the lake seem no more than a puddle.

              The sea, the witch whispered in her mind through the droning of the oo'lu. My people once lived all around its shores, until the light skinned people drove us into the mountains. We were fishermen and sailors, and the cries of the gulls are still in our bones. The oo'lu song shifted to a strange, high-pitched call, like that of the white birds she'd seen circling the lake. Beyond, and beyond again lies your true homeland, Seneth, daughter of Matriel.

              They passed over a mountainous island, and then over the sea again to a land unlike her own except for the spine of mountains bleak against a dark blue sky.

              "Aurënen," Belan told her, sounding very far away.

              The swath of land between the mountains and the sea was pale and dry like a bone. Turmay's magic carried her to a town on the shore. The tiny houses along the water looked like nubs of white chalk set in sand, with familiar domed roofs.

              The white child is here.

              Can you show it to me?

              I cannot see it, but I feel its presence like a canker in my mind.





              [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
            • flewelling.lynn
              It s been awhile, folks. Don t want you giving up hope with the long wait. :-) Alec drifted off to sleep that night feeling less of an outcast. To the
              Message 6 of 12 , Sep 6, 2009
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                It's been awhile, folks. Don't want you giving up hope with the long wait. :-)


                Alec drifted off to sleep that night feeling less of an outcast. To the Bôkthersans he was family, rather than an unwanted guest. With Seregil beside him and Sebrahn curled at the foot of the bed, he drifted off in a deeper slumber than he had in days.

                So it was a nasty shock when someone yanked him off the bed and onto the cold floor and stuffed something into his mouth. The shutters were open and by the faint moonlight he could make out several darkly dressed men, one of whom was holding a struggling Sebrahn. They'd stuffed a rag in the rhekaro's mouth, which explained why Sebrahn wasn't singing a killing song. In a way that was a relief, since Alec had no way of knowing if he'd kill only their assailants, or everyone else within earshot, as well.

                Seregil, naked and armed with one of the swords they'd brought from Plenimar, was fighting off two more men by the door.

                How in Bilairy's name did they get in without us or anyone else hearing them?

                No sooner had Alec taken that in than the two men holding him dragged him to the open window and thrust him out feet first, keeping hold of his hands, and he found himself dangling above the cobbled courtyard. There was no question of pulling free—Bilairy's balls, he hated heights!

                And falling even more so—which he was.
              • Michelle
                Oh noes!! ________________________________ From: flewelling.lynn To: Flewelling@yahoogroups.com Sent: Sunday, September 6, 2009
                Message 7 of 12 , Sep 6, 2009
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                  Oh noes!!




                  ________________________________
                  From: flewelling.lynn <lbflewelling@...>
                  To: Flewelling@yahoogroups.com
                  Sent: Sunday, September 6, 2009 9:24:09 PM
                  Subject: [Flewelling] White Road Snippet


                  It's been awhile, folks. Don't want you giving up hope with the long wait. :-)

                  Alec drifted off to sleep that night feeling less of an outcast. To the Bôkthersans he was family, rather than an unwanted guest. With Seregil beside him and Sebrahn curled at the foot of the bed, he drifted off in a deeper slumber than he had in days.

                  So it was a nasty shock when someone yanked him off the bed and onto the cold floor and stuffed something into his mouth. The shutters were open and by the faint moonlight he could make out several darkly dressed men, one of whom was holding a struggling Sebrahn. They'd stuffed a rag in the rhekaro's mouth, which explained why Sebrahn wasn't singing a killing song. In a way that was a relief, since Alec had no way of knowing if he'd kill only their assailants, or everyone else within earshot, as well.

                  Seregil, naked and armed with one of the swords they'd brought from Plenimar, was fighting off two more men by the door.

                  How in Bilairy's name did they get in without us or anyone else hearing them?

                  No sooner had Alec taken that in than the two men holding him dragged him to the open window and thrust him out feet first, keeping hold of his hands, and he found himself dangling above the cobbled courtyard. There was no question of pulling free—Bilairy' s balls, he hated heights!

                  And falling even more so—which he was.







                  [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
                • noerml
                  Bad bad Lynn...what a cliff...erm..windowsill-hanger xD
                  Message 8 of 12 , Sep 7, 2009
                  • 0 Attachment
                    Bad bad Lynn...what a cliff...erm..windowsill-hanger xD


                    > Oh noes!!
                    >
                    >
                    >
                    >
                    > ________________________________
                    > From: flewelling.lynn <lbflewelling@...>
                    > To: Flewelling@yahoogroups.com
                    > Sent: Sunday, September 6, 2009 9:24:09 PM
                    > Subject: [Flewelling] White Road Snippet
                    >
                    >
                    > It's been awhile, folks. Don't want you giving up hope with the long wait. :-)
                    >
                    > Alec drifted off to sleep that night feeling less of an outcast. To the Bôkthersans he was family, rather than an unwanted guest. With Seregil beside him and Sebrahn curled at the foot of the bed, he drifted off in a deeper slumber than he had in days.
                    >
                    > So it was a nasty shock when someone yanked him off the bed and onto the cold floor and stuffed something into his mouth. The shutters were open and by the faint moonlight he could make out several darkly dressed men, one of whom was holding a struggling Sebrahn. They'd stuffed a rag in the rhekaro's mouth, which explained why Sebrahn wasn't singing a killing song. In a way that was a relief, since Alec had no way of knowing if he'd kill only their assailants, or everyone else within earshot, as well.
                    >
                    > Seregil, naked and armed with one of the swords they'd brought from Plenimar, was fighting off two more men by the door.
                    >
                    > How in Bilairy's name did they get in without us or anyone else hearing them?
                    >
                    > No sooner had Alec taken that in than the two men holding him dragged him to the open window and thrust him out feet first, keeping hold of his hands, and he found himself dangling above the cobbled courtyard. There was no question of pulling freeâ€"Bilairy' s balls, he hated heights!
                    >
                    > And falling even more soâ€"which he was.
                    >
                    >
                    >
                    >
                    >
                    >
                    >
                    > [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
                    >
                  • Wendy Williams
                    Bilairy s Balls Lynn! You re so mean to us... or so kind... I haven t quit worked out which. So want the Fifth book now. :( Is it next year yet? This has been
                    Message 9 of 12 , Sep 7, 2009
                    • 0 Attachment
                      Bilairy's Balls Lynn! You're so mean to us... or so kind... I haven't
                      quit worked out which. So want the Fifth book now. :( Is it next year
                      yet?

                      This has been bought to you by Wednesday

                      My Web site: http://web.me.com/wwnwil1986/myWorld-wen/My_world.html



                      On 07/09/2009, at 10:54 AM, flewelling.lynn wrote:

                      > It's been awhile, folks. Don't want you giving up hope with the long
                      > wait. :-)
                      >
                      > Alec drifted off to sleep that night feeling less of an outcast. To
                      > the B�kthersans he was family, rather than an unwanted guest. With
                      > Seregil beside him and Sebrahn curled at the foot of the bed, he
                      > drifted off in a deeper slumber than he had in days.
                      >
                      > So it was a nasty shock when someone yanked him off the bed and onto
                      > the cold floor and stuffed something into his mouth. The shutters
                      > were open and by the faint moonlight he could make out several
                      > darkly dressed men, one of whom was holding a struggling Sebrahn.
                      > They'd stuffed a rag in the rhekaro's mouth, which explained why
                      > Sebrahn wasn't singing a killing song. In a way that was a relief,
                      > since Alec had no way of knowing if he'd kill only their assailants,
                      > or everyone else within earshot, as well.
                      >
                      > Seregil, naked and armed with one of the swords they'd brought from
                      > Plenimar, was fighting off two more men by the door.
                      >
                      > How in Bilairy's name did they get in without us or anyone else
                      > hearing them?
                      >
                      > No sooner had Alec taken that in than the two men holding him
                      > dragged him to the open window and thrust him out feet first,
                      > keeping hold of his hands, and he found himself dangling above the
                      > cobbled courtyard. There was no question of pulling free�Bilairy's
                      > balls, he hated heights!
                      >
                      > And falling even more so�which he was.
                      >
                      >
                      >



                      [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
                    • Michelle
                      Hahahaha, what a great comment, noerml. ________________________________ From: noerml To: Flewelling@yahoogroups.com Sent: Monday, September 7,
                      Message 10 of 12 , Sep 7, 2009
                      • 0 Attachment
                        Hahahaha, what a great comment, noerml.




                        ________________________________
                        From: noerml <noerml@...>
                        To: Flewelling@yahoogroups.com
                        Sent: Monday, September 7, 2009 4:57:49 AM
                        Subject: [Flewelling] Re: White Road Snippet



                        Bad bad Lynn...what a cliff...erm. .windowsill- hanger xD

                        > Oh noes!!
                        >
                        >
                        >
                        >
                        > ____________ _________ _________ __
                        > From: flewelling.lynn <lbflewelling@ ...>
                        > To: Flewelling@yahoogro ups.com
                        > Sent: Sunday, September 6, 2009 9:24:09 PM
                        > Subject: [Flewelling] White Road Snippet
                        >
                        >
                        > It's been awhile, folks. Don't want you giving up hope with the long wait. :-)
                        >
                        > Alec drifted off to sleep that night feeling less of an outcast. To the Bôkthersans he was family, rather than an unwanted guest. With Seregil beside him and Sebrahn curled at the foot of the bed, he drifted off in a deeper slumber than he had in days.
                        >
                        > So it was a nasty shock when someone yanked him off the bed and onto the cold floor and stuffed something into his mouth. The shutters were open and by the faint moonlight he could make out several darkly dressed men, one of whom was holding a struggling Sebrahn. They'd stuffed a rag in the rhekaro's mouth, which explained why Sebrahn wasn't singing a killing song. In a way that was a relief, since Alec had no way of knowing if he'd kill only their assailants, or everyone else within earshot, as well.
                        >
                        > Seregil, naked and armed with one of the swords they'd brought from Plenimar, was fighting off two more men by the door.
                        >
                        > How in Bilairy's name did they get in without us or anyone else hearing them?
                        >
                        > No sooner had Alec taken that in than the two men holding him dragged him to the open window and thrust him out feet first, keeping hold of his hands, and he found himself dangling above the cobbled courtyard. There was no question of pulling freeâ€"Bilairy' s balls, he hated heights!
                        >
                        > And falling even more soâ€"which he was.
                        >
                        >
                        >
                        >
                        >
                        >
                        >
                        > [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
                        >







                        [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
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