D. J. McNulty

Tales of Fantasy

Makei’s End Winter 2003

Makei reined his horse in at the door to a small tavern in the central province. With a few hours ride remaining before he reached Everstand, he was sorely in need of refreshment. Sliding from the saddle onto somewhat numb legs, he shouldered the leather courier’s bag that he’d borrowed from the real Shorehaven Courier and strode into the tavern. Recognizing the Court’s sea foam and blue colors on the tabard, the barkeep ushered Makei straight to the “best” table in the place – “best” being the small, beaten and scarred barrel closest to the fire.

Makei dropped the bag on top of the barrel and plopped onto a second barrel with a thin cushion that identified it as a “chair.” As he waited for the serving wench to stop flirting with a guardsman at the plank they called the bar, he ran his finger along the design carved into the leather of the bag. Peering closer, he realized that the carving was a stylized sea bird of some kind. Absently he wondered who had taken the time to embellish the bag with the design. The courier he’d met briefly, after arranging his cover story and disguise with the Queen, had not seemed to be an artistic type. His clothes were standard court issue, dark pants, dark boots, dark shirt, with the only spot of brightness being the court colors. He hadn’t seemed the sort to engage in whimsical leather craft.... read more

Leaving Home Summer 2003

The Courier Envoy tossed the last of her belongings into the saddlebag on the bed and turned to view the emptiness of her bedchamber. These had been her quarters for all but the first twenty of her two hundred winters. Now, like the rest of the court, she’d been ordered to pack up her belongings and get out. Rinka sighed and dropped into the large overstuffed chair in the corner beside the bed. The room was bare, stripped now of everything but the furniture, and that would be tossed onto the next wagon leaving for Wyn Eryi.

Wyn Eryi. She grimaced and ran a hand through her hair, making a wild mess of it, and not caring. Uncle Tidewild. She groaned and lay back in the chair, throwing her legs up to rest her feet on the edge of the bed. She’d written to her mother, when Grellia had announced the evacuation of the Palace, asking Kei to let her come to stay at Last Wood, but the Chieftess would have none of it. Her reply had been an emphatic “No. Go to your Uncle....” read more

Home Again Autumn 2003

 It’s the first page of the new journal, and, as always, as I set first ink to paper, I’m filled with the excitement of newness.

There has been a lot of newness for me of late. I sit hunched now on a curl of new rope against the side of a new ship, The Emerald Lady, bound for a place called New Sheldon. I’m in the company of new friends, found since coming to this new realm, E’atara.

I’ve accompanied a number of the Falo clan who have embarked on this journey with Captain Rodin Rae to her homeland. I admit, the lure of a sea voyage made me brazen enough to ask to accompany the clan on their journey. I have not regretted it for an instant; I feel a freedom and comfort I have not felt since giving up my position with Claysin’s Fleet.... read more

No Stone Unturned Spring 2004

 Rinka was stretched out on one of the benches near the fireplace in the library after the evening meal. Not far away, at the large table on the center of the second story loft, the Mage Pendar was messing about, poking at the courier’s leather satchel, referring to scrolls and books and murmuring to himself all the while. Since Rinka’s return to Wyn Eryi almost a fortnight prior, the two of them had fallen into this companionable pattern of passing the evening together. Usually her uncle Tidewild would join them at some point during the evening, and so neither of them looked up when the library door opened noisily.

It was unusual, however, for Tracker to meander through the library. Wyn Eryi’s Gameskeeper had been away from the manor since Rinka’s return, helping his gypsy kin settle in to their winter quarters in the nearby villages. When he’d returned the previous day, he’d said a few words to those gathered in the great hall, nodded a greeting to Rinka, and disappeared until this evening’s meal.... read more

Freeing the Mage Summer 2004

“What are you writing, Rinka?” The voice against her ear tickled, and the courier chuckled as Lorelei slid onto the bench beside her, crowding close and peering at the parchment.

“A letter to my father. Well to both my parents, really, I’m sure he’ll let Mama read it too.” Rinka sighed and reread what she’d written thus far. “The trouble is, there is too much I want to tell them, and not enough time or parchment to do it. Why couldn’t they just be where I need them to be, just once, when I need them to be there?” She dropped her forehead onto the table with a groan, and crossed her arms over her head. Lorelei made a sympathetic sound and patted Rinka’s back.... read more

Wyns of Change Autumn 2004

We’ve had a good week, Tess. Here’s a little extra for you, since it’s your cooking that’s bringing them in.” Rinka passed two coins to Tess, who smiled and skipped back to the kitchens.

“We’ll never get the stables fixed if you continue to do that.” Brandywine commented with a smirk from her place behind the bar.

Rinka shrugged. “In time. There’s no hurry, and fate will provide, it always does.”

The crash of the heavy wood door against the wall caused all eyes within the tavern’s taproom to look to the entrance. Rain, leaves, and other debris were blown through the doorway along with two sodden, cloaked figures. Rinka was to the door in a few steps, and with the help of the man that had just entered, managed to get the door closed against the gusting storm that had blown in from the sea nary an hour before. She nodded her thanks to the stranger, needing to tilt her head quite far back to make eye contact with the man.... read more

Bargains Spring 2005

Notes fluttered on the breeze, tossed there by the bard who casually strummed his mandolin as he rode. The tune was not one Rink had heard hOOt play before, so she glanced over her shoulder and asked, “Something new?”

hOOt shrugged and answered, “not really, just passing the time.”

It had sounded like music to Rinka, but she had little knowledge of the ways of musical creation, and so she kept her opinion to herself. “We’re almost there,” she said after they had traveled a bit further down the trail. “Thanks again for coming along to help, hOOt.”

“No trouble. No trouble at all…” He paused. “You’re sure there’s no fire breathing dragons involved, right?” He asked, giving her a hard stare.

With a chuckle and shake of her head, Rinka replied, “No, just a troublesome bard who has lured away all my help and my patrons.”

“That’s what you said. I was just checking.” He busied himself stowing his mandolin as the roof of the Wyn’s Favor Inn became visible through the trees.... read more

I Have to What? Autumn 2005

Don’t look at me like that, it won’t matter, I can’t do it.” Minxson Tracker crossed his arms and glared at Grellia.

“Do not presume to look at your Queen like that, Minxson, and you will do it.” The Queen crossed her own arms and glared back at him.

“I am not one of your messengers, Grellia. I do not like this. She will not like this.” Tracker rolled his eyes at the thought of the possible confrontation to come, when he did as Grellia commanded. He knew it was a losing battle, and he’d of course carry out her wishes, but as a matter of form, he felt obligated to put up some resistance, lest Grellia get a swelled head for being right all the time. Fat headed Queens were annoying, after all.

“It matters not what one likes or does not like, one will do one’s duty....” read more

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