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Peaks and
Valleys Fact,
Fiction, and Fantasy by Stephanie Dray |
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Genre Short Stories (This is a password protected
directory) 2002 Stories "I will not give my children to the
mob!" cried Lady Aldris, standing at the foot of the Clan Leader’s
throne. Tears stained her cheeks and
several wisps of hair had pulled free from the tight confines of her
hairpinned coiffure. (Finalist in the Science Fiction Writers of
Earth Contest – Dedicated to Chrissy, Happy Graduation about 12 years late!) Then they both stole a glance at the gold bars that he had been awarded by the priests. In two days, the bars would be melted down and applied to his horns in a public ceremony to recognize his courage in warfare and his mastery of the sword. And in two days, Mahlifa would be old enough to wed. As the staccato beat of the war drums
and the shouts of battle filled the air, Commander Zayes thrust her gladius
into her enemy’s gut. Her horned
opponent had been too slow and when she pulled her sword free of his falling
body, she didn’t take the time to finish him.
The spearmen behind her would take care of that. The Northlands were thought to be the
realm of lost spirits. It was said that a man not properly burned upon a funeral
pyre could never be reincarnated, and had to wander these plains
forever. But the Prince didn’t hold
those superstitions; he was intent on exploring the area and finding a place
to settle. I tried to hold onto the light of my
faith when the torch revealed the small cave’s lusterless interior. This was
no ruin of an ancient temple holding relics of great power. No, I would not
find the Bowl of Kamnestra here. This
was just another stone cave, as empty and dark as the eyes of the man who
handed me the torch. Despondent and
exhausted, I walked away from the cave and took a seat beneath the drooping
limbs of a thirsty cypress tree. Without opening her eyes to look, she knew who had come
for her, and why. She’d known of him before she was captured, and in truth,
even before she’d gone to war. Proper Firan matronas spit Warlord Hralib’s
name in the forum, or whispered it at the baths while swearing that they
would never allow their daughters to go to war. Killing came
naturally to Dardanus; he considered it an art form. He had the patient, methodical kind of mind
that made him well-suited to such tasks, not to mention a lifetime of
resentment to pull from when he needed extra motivation. As a royal bastard,
people had always mistrusted him and expected the worst of him. He didn't see why he should bother
disappointing their expectations. 2003 Stories In her mind, she saw a fertile earth,
where corn stalks shimmered in the red light of the Morning Star. A fertile earth
before global warming had turned the plains to dust. She saw herself, a
little girl lost in the cornfields. A
hunter was chasing her, his bow drawn, and she couldn’t find a way out. Somewhere, Sometime on the Nile: Ammar sees it in the little things,
little things that only timeslippers can see when one timeline fades into
another. The corners of tall buildings seem fuzzy and insubstantial to him.
The taste of figs is not quite real. The past is changing again, and has been
ever since Miriam ran away. Big Ma was down there cheating at cards
with her old lady friends. So as long as they didn’t make too much noise,
Angie thought they wouldn’t be noticed. Some say that She met Uni at the 3rd Annual
Intergalactic Conference for Radical Activists. At first, she thought he was like any other
fan waiting in line for her to autograph his copy of her new book, “Gender
Wars: Pornography Strikes Back.” I am Julia, and to men I have been all things and none. I have been
friend and hostess. Daughter and
mother. Wife and lover. Healer and Goddess. Yes, to men I have been all things, but one. |
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Contact: steph@stephaniedray.com Website Last
Revised: © Copyright Stephanie
Dray, 2003 |
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