A taste of the Middle Ages, by Vijaya Schartz

People in the Middle Ages seemed much closer to nature than we are today. Surrounded by forests, they bathed in rivers, or communal baths in castles before dining, in order to allow the guests to clean the dust of the roads and meet each other before the banquet. Did I mention that the baths were for both genders at the same time. Of course, that was in France, before the Catholic Church slammed down on public nudity... which later led to the spread of diseases.

This kind of research is fascinating. I had to visit the castles of Forez and speak with the curators of each museum to find out about all these details of early medieval life. Hope you enjoy discovering them in my latest release.

Here is an excerpt of Chatelaine of Forez, set in France in the eleventh Century, from the Curse of the Lost Isle medieval fantasy romantic series. The heroine is bathing in a sacred spring. Enjoy!

CHATELAINE OF FOREZ:

http://amzn.com/B00I3T9VYG

Only $2.99 in kindle 

Chapter One

March 1028 AD - Forez (now in central France)

Melusine stopped singing and shuddered in the cool water. Someone was coming. Fast approaching hooves trampled the underbrush. She straightened and gripped the well worn sides of the rectangular stone basin. Birds and insects had ceased their chirping. Through the trees, a single horseman on a black stallion galloped up the forested path to the sacred spring where she bathed.

How had he crossed the magic barrier she'd erected down the hill? Could he be an immortal like her?

She glanced at her blue robes, left in the middle of the clearing, at the foot of the tall, standing stone hugging the statue of the Great Goddess. Too far away. No time to step out of the catch basin and retrieve them. With a flurry of the hand, she wove a quick invisibility spell and willed the water around her to still.

Her heart stumbled for a beat or two. This could be the blessed day the Great Goddess had promised her. The day she finally met her former beloved... Sigefroi. Although, in his new incarnation, he wore another name.

The horseman emerged from the curtain of trees, impossibly tall, dark, muscular, in black leather gear, a crossbow across his back. A sword slapped his thigh, and a hunting knife adorned his belt. Half a dozen bloody hares hung from the back of his saddle. Definitely not her beloved Sigefroi. What now?

The stranger glanced at her, raised a dark brow and nodded a salute from the saddle. A restrained smile touched his lips. How could he possibly see her through the invisibility spell? But he'd already crossed her privacy barrier. Fae blood definitely coursed through his veins.

Melusine shrunk into her chilly bath, dreading to face him naked.

It could be worse. It could be the first Wednesday of the month, when the curse made her a serpent from the waist down. In this increasingly Christian land, discovery in ondine form could cost her to burn at the stake.

Since the local Christians avoided Pagan shrines, however, the stranger must be of the old faith.

She took a deep breath and made her voice as formidable and intimidating as she could. "Who dares violate the sacred spring of the Great One?"

"Count Artaud of Forez." The deep baritone rang loud and clear.

Melusine's heartbeat faltered. Not an immortal, but worse. "Artaud of Forez?"

"I own this land, and methinks you are the one trespassing." He dismounted with surprising agility for his size, sliding off the saddle like an acrobat.

Melusine scrutinized the young man. According to the Goddess, Artaud had inherited the soul of her late Sigefroi, but how could it be, when they looked like opposites. Where Sigefroi had been wiry and fair, with gold reddish hair and a clear gaze, Artaud had broad shoulders, straight black hair, a hale face, and a dark, brooding gaze, as deep as a lake on a moonless night. Both looked fearsome, but in different ways.

Count Artaud led his prancing stallion closer to the large rectangular basin where she bathed.

Dear Goddess! Heat crept up Melusine's cheeks. She gathered her legs and encircled her knees with her arms for modesty. "How dare you!"

"My horse is thirsty." His voice held a subtle challenge.

The black stallion snorted as its master freed him. The beast drank noisily from the far end of the long basin.

Count Artaud cast her a sidelong glance, his swarthy, square face unreadable. "The Great One would want to quench an animal's thirst."

"Only a Pagan would know the Great One respects all creatures as equal." Melusine kept her voice even, but anger gripped her insides. How could this Artaud hold the soul of her beloved? He was a cold, dark stranger, not her fiery knight of old.

His brow shot up. "I fear you have me at a disadvantage, my lady. I have never seen you at court or on my estates. Who might you be?"

Although she'd known they would soon meet, Melusine had no ready answer. An ondine? A cursed immortal? The woman you are destined to marry? The love of your past life? The enchantress who might bring your doom? She couldn't find words he might accept, even less understand. While she remembered their lifetime together, he did not.

No sympathy softened the neutral face as his dark stare pierced her. He removed his black leather gloves and sat on a jutting stone next to the well worn edge of the old basin. "Devil got your tongue?"

Visions of hellish creatures flashed upon Melusine's mind at his mention of the devil. Christians believed in the devil... and Christians wanted her dead.

"Melusine..." She cleared her choking voice. "My name is Melusine."

She fancied her first name innocuous enough. Better than Melusine the Fae, immortal, cursed by the Great One, excommunicated First Lady of Luxembourg, the love and the bane of your past existence.

"Lady Melusine..." He rolled the words on his tongue. His dark, liquid eyes softened and unfocused slightly. "An unusual name for an unusual woman."

"‘Tis an ancient name, my lord." Tempted to prod his mind and find out what he thought of her, she stopped herself. If he could see through her spells, and Fae blood coursed through his veins, like Sigefroi, he would be impervious to her magic... but not to her charms.

Changing tactic, she smiled and relaxed against the hollowed stone basin, exposing her submersed nudity through the clear water. "I hear you have done well, Lord Artaud. Your lands of Lyon and Forez thrive, and your people consider you a fair and wise ruler."

He cast her a sidelong glance, then shifted his gaze to the statue of the Great One dominating the clearing. The quenched black stallion walked away a few paces and grazed the luscious grass of the hillock.

Awe widened his eyes as he faced her again. "What else have you heard about me?"

Although Melusine had kept her promise not to spy on Artaud, she knew a few things about him. "The river gold makes you richer than any king. So does the trade on the pilgrimage road to St Jacques of Compostella. Travelers speak highly of your hospitality."

Bird trills and the chirping of insects had resumed, and the sweet scent of wild flowers filled the air with vibrant life.

"What you hear is true." He faced her but kept his gaze at eye level. "I'm also a Pagan count ruling over Christian barons. That alone can get you killed these days."

"Then we have much in common, my lord." Melusine smiled seductively. "Only a devout Pagan would visit the sacred spring and the shrine of the Great One. Why else would you come here?"

He barely cracked a thin smile. "To water my horse."

His jest bothered her. So did his cool response to her charms. Hard as she tried, Melusine could not see in this man any remnant of her past love.

Had she waited these few decades for naught? Had the Great One tricked her? No. The Great One never lied. Still, even though Melusine did not intend to share this stranger's fate, she should warn him of the dangers threatening his rule.

She trailed her fingers on the water surface, blurring it. "This hill is not just a sacred shrine from time immemorial, Lord Artaud."

His dark gaze alighted upon her with a new spark of interest. "State your meaning."

"‘Tis the site of your future castle of Montarcher."

Suspicion narrowed his eyes. "How do you know of my future designs?"

Melusine's heart skipped a beat. "The Great One sees and knows all, my lord. You must build your castle in haste to face the coming dangers."

A muscle in his square jaw jumped. "What dangers?"

"Your enemies are gathering." Melusine didn't know the future, only that Artaud would need help. "Many envy your riches, my lord. Others resent your faith. But from here, you can fend them off."

"Why here?" His tone held curiosity.

Melusine straightened and gazed in the distance. She was destined to protect him, but she felt naught for this stranger. "This is a sacred site, my lord. From here, the statue of the Great One will bless and protect all your lands."

His brow rose and his eyes softened but still stared at her. "Truly?"

Melusine shrank under his scrutiny, wishing she wore clothes. "Truly, my lord."

"Thank you for the warning, my lady." He rose and whistled. His stallion trotted up to him. In one light vault, Artaud landed in the saddle.

Melusine's heart jumped. Had she done right, or had she spoiled everything? In any case, she must speak with the Great One. There must be a mistake. She could never love this dark, brooding man. He was not her long lost love.

HAPPY READING.

Vijaya Schartz

Blasters, Swords, Romance with a Kick

http://www.vijayaschartz.com

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/author/vijayaschartz 

FB: https://www.facebook.com/vijaya.schartz
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Vijayaschartz  

THE END! I finished Book 5 in the Curse of the Lost Isle series

Yep, I wrote THE END on the last page of the manuscript of CHATELAINE OF FOREZ, Book Five in the CURSE OF THE LOST ISLE series.

I'm going to polish it to a shine during the holidays, and send it to BWL as soon as they reopen in January. Publication date will depend upon how long it takes the editors (some of them in England), and BWL's talented cover artists, to put it together. I predict it will probably be in late February or early March.

Anyhoo... I'm very excited and celebrating right now. Although this is my... let me count... Twenty-third title (I had to go to Amazon to check how many I had already published), the thrill of finishing a book never gets old.

CHATELAINE OF FOREZ follows Melusine (after Lady of Luxembourg) on a new adventure (still based upon the authentic legends, this time in the independent province of Forez (France), where I had a great time researching the local archives a few years ago.

Here is the short blurb:

Still afflicted by the ondine curse, Melusine seeks the reincarnated soul of her lost beloved in the young Artaud of Forez, who reigns over the verdant hills south of Burgundy, on the road of pilgrims, troubadours and merchants. But this dark and brooding Pagan lord is not at all what she hoped. He knows nothing of their past love, her Fae nature, or her secret curse. Must Melusine seduce and betroth this cold stranger to satisfy the Goddess and redeem her curse?

The gold in the rivers instills greed in the powerful, and many envy the rich Lord of Forez, including his most trusted vassals... even the Archbishop of Lyon. When a mythological creature is sighted in the swamps, initiating a holy hunt, will Melusine find redemption from the curse, or will she and Artaud burn at the stake?

Find the first four novels of the CURSE OF THE LOST ISLE in kindle on Amazon HERE
There is also a box set including the first three novels (best deal)

Find out more at: http://www.vijayaschartz.com

WRITING THE MEDIEVAL SERIES - by Vijaya Schartz

This book is available in kindle format HERE. Give it a thumbs up if you feel like it.

Historical series are a challenge to write... always. How much history, how much fiction, how much emotion compared to action and battle scenes? How many love scenes if it's a romance...

It all depends on the specific genre. If you are writing true history with a gritty feel, if you know your audience, and they are all about the historical details, by all means give them a chuckful of them. If the focus of the story is romance or legends, however, or if it's a young adult story, other factors should be at the forefront at all times. Also consider the age and level of education of the reader. Will you have to explain every medieval word you use? Will they need a lexicon at the end of the book? You don't want them to be checking the dictionary at every page.

If that's the case, you may be in trouble. Because if you use fewer historical words and make sure they are illustrated in context, you should not need to explain anything.

When I started this series a few years back, after a decade of research and travels to Europe, I didn't really know how to define it, since it is based in authentic legends. It really didn't fit any mold. It was history, fantasy, legends, romantic, full of action... but with adult subjects. Publishers were interested, they liked the writing, but they didn't know what to do with it. But with the rejections came interesting comments. Once a NY agent told me there was a dichotomy between the modern narrative and the formal dialogue. So I had to unify the entire work. I simplified the dialogue, and formalized the narrative, so that the difference wouldn't jar the reader.

Finally, after many rewrites, I found the right tone for dialogue and narrative, the right amount of old words, just to give it the right flavor (historical fans like them). And I am proud to announce that Books We Love Ltd just releasee this first novel in the Curse of the Lost Isle series... PRINCESS OF BRETAGNE (here again I am taking a chance with a French word in the title, but it's all about taking chances).

You can find the book in kindle format HERE. Give it a thumbs up like if you feel like it.

Good luck in your own writing endeavors.

Vijaya Schartz
Swords, Medieval knights, Romance with a Kick
http://www.vijayaschartz.com/

Brand new Medieval series starts with Princess of Bretagne - by Vijaya Schartz

Now available in kindle for only $2.99!  CLICK HERE

This is a series I researched for several years in Europe and it is based on authentic European legends. It depicts life, love, and war in medieval times. As always I wrote strong women characters and evil villains. This series is very close to my heart. Here is what it's all about.
THE CURSE OF THE LOST ISLE SERIES:

From history shrouded in myths, emerges a family of immortal Celtic Ladies, who roam the medieval world in search of salvation from a curse. For centuries, imbued with hereditary gifts, they hide their deadly secret, stirring passions in their wake as they fight the Viking hordes, send the first knights to the Holy Land, give birth to kings and emperors... but if the Church ever suspects what they really are, they will be hunted, tortured, and burned at the stake.

PRINCESS OF BRETAGNE:

806 AD - Alba (Ancient Scotland) - As the Vikings raid the coast of Alba, Pressine of Bretagne sets out to seduce King Elinas of Dumfries, chosen by the Goddess to unite the tribes against the foreign invader. Elinas, still mourning his departed queen, has no intention to remarry. Head-strong and independent, Pressine does not expect to fall for the very attractive, wise and noble ruler... Furthermore, her Pagan nature clashes with the religious fanaticism of the king's Christian heir, who suspects her unholy ancestry and will stop at nothing to get rid of her.

EXCERPT:

Without waiting for an invitation, Elinas stormed into the bedchamber.

Pressine shuddered at the loathing in his dark brown eyes.

"Whatever made you think you could violate the apartments of my beloved queen?" Stopping short in the middle of the room, Elinas glanced around, eyes wide with disbelief.

Pressine struggled to sound casual. "Surely your gracious queen would have wanted these rooms light, warm and clean, even alive with laughter, rather than dark, sealed, and stinking of decay."

The king's jaw tightened under the short black beard as he towered over her. His hands balled into fists at his sides. "I alone decide in my castle." The low voice turned to a raucous whisper, more threatening than the shouts of any battlefield. "I shall not tolerate defiance of any kind under my roof. Restore these rooms to their previous state and leave."

Barely able to slow her heartbeat, Pressine feigned distraction, dusting her blue riding dress. "It simply cannot be done."

"You dare challenge me?" His surprise would have been comical, if not for the menacing tone.

"The old linens were burned," Pressine said with a calm she did not feel, as if lecturing a child. She rose to fetch the bundle wrapped in blue silk and handed it to him.

Elinas looked at it suspiciously. "What is it?"

"Her comb, mirror, distaff, spindle, and other keepsakes." Pressine's waved her hand, encompassing the room. "The apartments themselves will never look the way they did before." She had made certain of that.

The king's eyes, velvety brown and soft this morning at the spring, now burned with the fiery amber of a wild cat's glare. Elinas looked ready to pounce. He snatched the bundle from her arm. "Out!"

Pressine showed none of the apprehension gripping her. The king's heart, beneath the leather gear, had more mettle than she anticipated.

"Remember that I have your sword." She paused, observing the sobering effect of her words. "Only this morning, you gave it to me, swearing you would honor your oath of keeping me safe in your halls. Does a king's word count for so little in Strathclyde?"

"I curse the ill fortune that made me hear you sing, lady." Eyes tightly shut, Elinas tensed, fists at his side, obviously struggling for emotional control. "I should have known that a princess who refuses to bow to the will of men can only bring strife."

Encouraged by the spark of reason returning to the distraught Elinas, Pressine hoped he could now face his grief. "I am sorry if I offended you. I meant no disrespect."

"I have enough Vikings, Angles, Picts and Scots to give me trouble. The gods know I do not want feuds in my home." Stillness made his stare frightening.

Pressine refused to be intimidated. "Will you honor your word and protect me, then?"

"I should throw you to the wolves!" His voice boomed.

"Wolves?" Pressine repressed a chuckle. She loved wolves. "What would your people think of a king who throws a defenseless princess to the wolves?"

"Defenseless?" The king's face reddened.

"Everyone in the castle expects to see me at your side at the Beltane feast. If I do not attend, there will be questions. The rules of hospitality state that..."

"Let them ask," Elinas snapped. "The rules of hospitality do not apply to princesses who misbehave!"

"Please, my lord, do not throw me to the wolves!" Pressine dropped to her knees and grabbed his strong legs, gazing up at him. "I promise to behave like a proper lady and heed all your wishes from now on."

Elinas glanced into her eyes then averted his gaze. "Get up!" he said gruffly. "I spoke in anger. But you better behave as promised."

"Thank you, my king." Pressine rose. Her irrepressible smile broadened and she brushed her lips to his cheek. "Does this mean I may stay in these chambers?"

"I see no reason not to anymore." Elinas pursed his lips and sighed. His slow gaze perused the room. Unshed tears welled in his eyes. "My dear queen's spirit has left this place."

Moved by his emotional display, Pressine bowed humbly. "I shall do my best to please you, my lord. I promise."

Elinas glanced at her riding clothes. "I hope you plan to wear something more suitable for the feast."

"Do not fear. I will do honor to your hall." Pressine curtsied. To her surprise, when she raised her gaze Elinas remained standing, staring at her.

"I need my sword," He said curtly.

"What?" Under no circumstance could Pressine give him back his sword.

"A warrior-king cannot show himself at Beltane without a royal sword." The dark stubble of his beard twitched.

Suddenly grasping the opportunity, Pressine went to the most ornate chest in the room. "If a great sword you need, my lord, a great sword you shall have."

Opening the chest, Pressine nonchalantly furrowed among the gold and silver jewels to retrieve the wrapped Caliburn imbued with the might of the Goddess. When Pressine faced Elinas again, he stared, gaping at the riches in the open coffer.

"What is all this?" He eyed the contents suspiciously.

"My dowry." Pressine slowly unwrapped the sword empowered by the ritual in the stone circle. "From my father, King Salomon of Bretagne, and from my aunt, the Lady Morgane."

The king's gaze took in the other trunks as well. "You could supply a whole army for many years with that much silver and gold."

When Pressine unsheathed the blade, it caught the light and shone blue.

"Who did you say your aunt was?" Elinas seemed transfixed by the sight of the magnificent sword.

"Lady Morgane of the Lost Isle." Pressine presented the weapon to his touch.

"Incredible work." His hands caressed the blade. "I have never seen such flawless steel."

"Like the dowry, it will go to my husband in wedlock." Pressine sheathed the sword and handed it to him. "Would you wear Caliburn tonight, as a token of my good will?"

Elinas gave her a sharp glance as he took the sword. "Do not think this gives you license to oppose or contradict me in any way in front of my liege lords and barons. If you do, I shall have you thrown outside the ramparts in the middle of the night. And the royal Princess of Bretagne will have to contend with the wolves."

Caliburn in one hand the blue silk bundle in the other, Elinas marched out of the bedchamber. After the door closed, Pressine let out a long breath and her shoulders relaxed. Seducing this king might prove more difficult than she expected, but he was worthy, and she enjoyed a challenge.
 
Find other books by Vijaya at her author website HERE and also at:
 
AMAZON   -  BARNES&NOBLE  -  ALL ROMANCE eBOOKS