Everyone is leaving me! (Rivalee next chapter)

How come?

Why does everyone have to have a little private blog?

Erin, Melanie and NOW Alex has left. I feel a little left out.

FINE! I'll just stay here and keep writing...

Truth is I want people to read my stuff. I don't care if it's a total stranger! Anyway... I digress.

Learned a couple new words the other day the one that I remember the best is "somnolent" adj. it means drowsy or sleepy. A good word for me.

I also finished The Scarlet Pimpernel! SUCH a good book and it's really quick read. Take a day and you can finish it like that *snap*. Course I tend to skim... It's not that I mean to, I just get really invested and so I don't read every word. That's why I read all my favorite books several times and then I really do learn something new everytime I read them. Then your brain goes... Ahhhh... and you understand why the bad guy is being weird or the good guy makes a certain decision. You know it's fun.

It's also why my writing is the way it is. You'll notice I put VERY little detail in my writing. Partially because it's a first draft and I really don't want to put the time in. Second I haven't really thought out the geography or the cultures... so... yeah. Basically it's a first draft and I'm just trying to get the plot down. That's all that really matters first time through....

Well, without further ado I give you the next chapter. Please comment, tell me whatever the heck you want. You know... I like feedback. It's not a bad thing. Sigh....

OH!!! This is my FAVORITE PART!!!!! I'll post two sections so you can get it all!!! AHHH!

Princess Rivalee (Sec 2 Part 9)

Riva sucked in air between her teeth, tears forming as searing pain shot up her back.

“Sorry.” One of the women whispered as if she was afraid of being overheard.

Riva had never believed she that she could be in so much pain. Moving hurt, breathing hurt. Her back was on fire. The women in the slave tent were putting strips of raw meat on her back.

Grasping one of the women’s hands she whispered just as softly and with as much feeling as she could muster. “Thank you.” She wished she could say it in her language.

The woman nodded kindly and continued to work.

Once the stripes across Riva’s back had scabbed over and the pain and lessened, she was put back in Imad’s tent.

It was suffocating.

Riva never spoke in his presence and only answered with a nod or shake of her head. She wanted him to believe he had broken her, not firmed her resolve and hatred. Raj was the only one to break the monotony. Sometimes when Imade was gone, Raj would come to “clean” and they would play their game.

Everyday was agony. Riva knew that Imad and the King were preparing for war against Alsteare and there was nothing she could do.

One night the Tribal Heads met with Imad in his tent.

Imad sent for water again. As she was leaving one of the Heads commented, “You’ve taken all the fire out of her, Imad, must be boring at night.” and laughter ensued. She was glad the darkness hid her red face.

I hate him. She thought fiercely.

When she returned she gave him the jug and went to her corner, ignoring the sighs of pleasure at having clean water.

“So, Imad, when will we be able to call you “Majesty?”

“Soon. I want there to be no question in my leadership.” He gazing meaningfully around the room. “That means you will all have to support me without question.”

Riva could almost see their faces, striving to hide their fear. She closed her eyes. Of course... of course, you’ve wanted to rules all this time. You want the glory not just to be the puppeteer. She opened her eyes again and looked at the drape that separated the two rooms. Pursing her lips Riva considered, remembering the smart of the whip on her back.

*****

“The King is sleeping.” The flat nosed guard told her frimly. “He does not wish to be disturbed.”

“Please, it’s a message from Imad of the utmost importance.”

If the guard was surprised that she could suddenly speak his language he only showed it with a scowl. He glared at her for another minute.

“Fine. Be quick.” He opened the tent door.

The King was indeed asleep. Two of the slaves that were in his room stood wen she entered and left like ghosts. Gently Riva shook the King. “Your Majesty?”

He stirred. “What is it?”

“Would you be willing to come with me?”

Rubbing his eyes he realized who was in his room. “You? What are you doing here? How did you get past my guards?” He asked groggily.

“Please, your Majesty, I need you to come with me to Imad’s tent. I want to show you something.”

Wearily he reached for his clothes and dressed, seemingly unaware of Riva’s embarrassment. “What does he need in the middle of the night?” As they left he motioned for his guards to follow.

The four of them made their way through a silent camp. When they reached Imad’s tent Riva motioned for silence. Racham eyebrows rose in a question, but he kept his silence. They entered and another bout of laughter had broken out among the group of men in the adjoined room.

Riva sat and motioned for them to do the same, she tapped her ear. Racham’s face grew serious as he sensed the severity of the situation.

The tribesmen were discussing where to place their men around the camp. It seemed innocent enough. Had they moved on? Dread swept through her. For a full ten minutes nothing incriminating was said. Riva strove to remain at peace or at least seem at peace.

Racham also remained still and listened.

Finally one of the men laughed loudly and said, “This will all be possible through the efforts of our new king, Imad!” It sounded as if he were raising his glass in honor and the other men were following suit.

Riva sighed in relief and turned to see Racham’s face.

He had gone pale.

She waited for a reaction. “Well? Go arrest him.”

He looked up into her face. “What can I do?” He asked softly. “I am one man, one man that no one will listen to. Imad is a shaman.”

Riva realized he was right. Racham had no power here. He never had.

But she did.

She stood and threw open the drapes the separated the rooms.

Throwing her arms out a powerful wind slammed into the tent. The Tribal Heads were thrown to the floor, struggling to protect their heads and eyes from the sand and objects that flew at them. Riva crushed the air around Imad, fury gripping her. The air compressed around the Shaman, when he realized what was going on he met Riva’s deadly glare and smiled.

Swinging his arms out, he broke her grip and gathered the sand near him. Once he had a sufficient amount he blasted it at her face.

Riva moved, effecting to dodge rather than block. In her right hand she was forming a whip made of fire. Let’s see how you like it. She thought savagely. With a swift flick she sent the tendrils of fire at Imad, scoring the tent and any unfortunate bystanders.

Imad wove the air into a tight shield, his delicate fingers moving quickly. As Riva’s fire struck wasll of air, it slowed, giving him time to slip away.

Furious Riva reached for the entire tent, pulling in everything she could touch. Rugs, walls, poles, and ropes caved in on them.

The sudden attack from all sides stunned Imad for a moment. Desperately he flung fire burning his own home as in converged on him. For a moment they stood glaring at each other, panting, completely unaware of the audience that had gathered.

“So... You were a magic user all this time. I never would’ve guessed.” Imad gasped in Alstearian.

“There are a lot of things you never bothered to learn about me.” Riva spat in his language. Flinging her arms up she gathered all her hate and fear in the form of fire, feeding her energy into it.

Imad made a sharp movement and Riva instinctively stepped to one side. Something stung her in the left side.

She ignored it and let the fire in her hands grow until it seemed to large to handle. With a mighty yell she flung it at Imad.

He ran and dove barely avoiding the sphere, which rolled and crashed into a nearby tent. The newborn fire lit the scene with eerie flickering. Even from here Riva could smell his singed hair. Riva cast around looking for anything to fight with. Her power was nearly gone, she could feel a heavy weariness start to set in. It was making her movements difficult and she kept stumbling.

There! What looked like a ceremonial dagger from one of the Tribal Heads. Like a lecherous drunk she staggered toward it and grasped it. When she straightened Imad was standing right in front of her, a little half smile playing on his lips.

With two fingers he pushed her gently. She stumbled backward, barely managing to stay on her feet.

Imad laughed enjoying her reaction. “Poison. So simple. So clean.”

Riva’s eyes widened in fear, she looked down at her left side to see a small dart protruding from her body.

“Too bad you can’t heal yourself.” Imad taunted.

Adrenaline made Riva move with sureness, swiftly she unsheathed the dagger and shoved it in between Imad’s ribs. She stayed there watching his expression change. “Same to you.” She whispered and twisted.

Imad screamed and pulled away.

Riva had a death grip on the dagger and it cut a new path out. He fell writhing in pain. It was a fatal wound. He wouldn’t live. His lung would collapse and he wouldn’t be able to breathe. It would be slow and painful.

These thoughts went through Riva’s mind numbly as she swayed on her feet. She looked down at her blood-covered hands, then up at the sky. The stars were so beautiful. She closed her eyes basking in their light. I love you, Glen. I’m so sorry.