#anarchy fic

[graaaaceeliz]

The only problem with writing historical wish-fulfilment fiction is that every now and again you make some "minor" characters who you realise will only stay minor if you keep them under control. I am genuinely concerned that Agnet, head seamstress and wife of the castle steward Tomos, might wind up in charge of England....

[graaaaceeliz]

🌹🌹🌹

I need to look through the askbox more often, I bet you can't even remember sending these. (Roses for WIP quotes).

This is from a work which is not entirely In Progress but which I have keen intentions to write over the summer, probably by taking a truly ridiculous amount of 12th century reading resources and some Cadfael Chronicles on holiday with me. Which I need to find said resources ..... library trip needed.

Has anyone read Blood Red Horse? You should. Especially if you love horses.

The colt's eyes shine in the red sunset with a light which tells of curiosity and intelligence. His three white legs glow against the dusky darkness of his coat, and the curve of his blaze pours down his dished nose like a waterfall's pools. Sharp ear prick up when the bucket rattles.

He is magnificent.

"Here, then," she calls across the field. Dry-stone walls wrap the flattest part of the slope in red and grey like the trim of a blanket. The little mare snorts and whuffles, unnaturally talkative, and the colt's half-siblings come careening across the grass at their dams' sides. Only three look like their warprize father: the colt, her brother's filly Melinea, and the unnamed filly who is the youngest of the herd, whose ears are delicate and joints strong. They will bring her father's warriors honour on the field and in the Holy Wars.

Eddie leans on the wooden bars of the gate. "Your father will be home from the priory soon."

She smiles. "Saint Bega honours us." The foals creep closer to the object of their mothers' greedy intent. "The foals will bring us the eyes of the Earls."

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