Wednesday 5 November 2008

NaNoWriMo Excerpts - Cymru 4

Right: I love Gwilym, sadly his plot line is paper thin at the moment through me not thinking about it enough before this month. Ultimately he will be better, currently he's a bit plotless. And his cousin somehow has LITERALLY NO PERSONALITY. But it doesn't matter, because these are only excerpts, and it will be sorted by the time I am a famous author.

GWILYM

As the ship sailed serenely into Aberystwyth's harbour, accompanied by the ever-present fanfares that Gwilym had yet to catch, he felt inordinatly guilty that he hadn't simply gone and fetched his cousin himself in an airbus. Lorcan didn't mind sea travel, but Gwilym knew for a fact that quite aside from the time and safety difference between an airbus and a ship that Lorcan really wanted a go at flying at some point; or at least, so Gwilym had interpretted from every time he'd ever visited in Erinn. Either that or Lorcan had, in fact, been brain-damaged in a terrible accident involving a horse-drawn cart, a ramp and some chickens leading to his terrible obsession with merod, but to save the family name they'd just not told Gwilym. Which wouldn't be completely beyond all likelihood. Uncle Dara was Mental.

The ship drifted to a careful halt, and the trumpeters, wherever they were, outdid themselves in the field of shredding eardrums with sheer dischordant audio death. Gwilym hoped someone disrespectful in the crowd would pitch them into the harbour. Sadly, they didn't, and Gwilym cursed the unpredictability of peasants. To his right, Watkins cleared his throat with the practised subtlety of a political aide, and Gwilym somehow managed to wipe the wince off his face while wishing fervently that someone would pitch Watkins into the harbour; because really, no one had the right to be able to cough that obsequiously. Or look that much like a kettle.

The boarding plank went down, the fanfare went up, Gwilym stepped smartly up to the edge and briefly wished someone would push him in, and then Lorcan was at the other end, gliding as ceremonially down the plank as he could, official torque in Erinnish gold glinting at his throat and cloak impeccably positioned over his still-slightly-lanky shoulders. It was impressive how confident he looked; Mental Uncle Dara would definitely have been nagging him about giving a good impression of Erinn whilst in Cymru, which would have been added stress that left Gwilym even more mental than Mental Uncle Dara. Although that said, Lorcan didn't have Watkins to deal with.

Gwilym smiled and pushed the thought away as Lorcan reached him and bowed carefully. It was the Erinnish bow, monarch-to-monarch, which Gwilym returned before it had even occured to him that the Cymric one might have been the proper choice. He ignored Watkins. It was generally for the best to do so, Gwilym found.

"Prince Lorcan," Gwilym said grandly. "Welcome to Cymru! I hope your stay will be enjoyable."

"I'm sure it will be, Sovereign," Lorcan answered. His Cymric had improved in leaps and bounds, Gwilym noted; it was probably just as well. "I've been very much looking forward to this."

Gwilym had planned on actually responding to that, but clearly he either wasn't meant to or Watkins didn't trust him to do so without knocking Lorcan out with an oar or something, because suddenly the fanfare was back and the official aides that seemed to hang about like fleas were parting, allowing them both access to the Sovereign's Coach. Gwilym smiled brightly and gestured for Lorcan to proceed to it, which he did. The whole thing felt utterly ridiculous, as though they were about six years old again and playing some big elaborate game that was for some macabre and inexplicable reason being watched by hoardes of vaguely interested people. At least the people were cheering, though. If not they probably would have pushed Lorcan in, and that would have set a dangerous precedent.

2 comments:

Jester said...

I enjoyed this thoroughly- it is very clever and funny. Good work. It has a lovely refreshing, upbeat tone. This is a good thing to intermingle with the "tense plot" stuff.

It also brings more of the spirit of orginal Cymru in the joke-laden, conversational tone. I like it. It also sets a difference between the different sections, as the world gets distorted through the eyes of the different characters. Which is very interesting and clever.

Jom said...

Loving the conversational tone too. I have to say I quite like the 'push in with oar' meme.