Well, what is Ale Quest?
Ale Quest is a fantasy adventure novelette that will come out at the end of the month. I wanted to release it on St. Patrick’s Day (March 17), but I got too busy with work.
The story follows Sir Peter Godfried, a soldier in the king’s army. He’s tasked with bringing ale back to the siege camps so the troops will be emboldened to attack. He’s also tasked with bringing a prisoner to a northern army garrison.
Now, this isn’t friendly territory that Peter’s moving through, and lots of scrapes and binds are gotten into along the way. Perhaps the most come at the hands of the prisoner he’s escorting.
Here’s an excerpt:
“A woman!” Peter shouted, then shook his head and scoffed. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Herbert frowned. “Sorry, Peter, but that’s what the king wants – you to escort this girl to the garrison at Fadurk.”
Peter shook his head and kicked at the dirt. “Well that’s just great! What’s next, a gaggle of children?”
Dillon spoke up.
“We are getting a bit heavy on the hanger’s-on in the camp,” he said. “Maybe if Sir Peter…er, Peter,” Dillon said graciously and with a slight bow, “maybe we can get rid of some of these children as well, that is if he’s travelling–”
“I’m not taking a woman and children!” Peter said vehemently, raising his arm up as if to backhand the advisor for such a silly suggestion.
“Yes, well, you’re all set to go,” Herbert said.
Peter looked over at the woman, giving her a good once-over for the first time since she’d entered the tent.
She was lean, full of hip, and mean of face – in other words a disaster waiting to happen. She sneered at Peter as he looked her up and down, but far from the attraction she may have thought he was showing, he only felt revulsion.
“When was the last time you bathed, woman?” he said tersely.
“If you don’t want me pissing in my robes you should at least give me a bucket!” she said loudly, although it was directed more at the men that’d brought her than Peter.
“Yes, well…” he trailed off as he looked her up and down once again, then turned to Herbert.
“Alright, let’s just stop this joke right now,” he said.
Herbert shook his head from side to side. “Oh, no, Sir Peter, this is no joke, the king is quite serious.”
Peter looked at the woman again. She was smiling at him even wider now, those black and chipped teeth giving off a hideous stench.
“Gotta name?” he asked with a shrug and a sigh.
“Agnes.”
“Ah,” Herbert said with a smile, “Agnes, meaning ‘pure’ and ‘holy’ in Greek.
God help us! Peter thought.