9 A Wyrd Thing – part the third

Laying out the Runes

Honey curled up dozing in Tod’s arms after their blood exchange; he lost himself staring into the fire. His maker had punished him frequently for acting on his human emotions but his  training as  a priest and a leader was deeply ingrained. He was meant to garner honor as a warrior, shepherd his people, and spiritually intercede for them.  Not to be a careless murderer and thief… Continue reading

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8 A Wyrd Thing – part the second

Home Again, Home Again

Horse had been itching to carve a wild cat, not laid out straight on the handle, but wrapped around it; the notion had been nagging at him. The horse bone had a fine enough grain, it would take the detail and he was going for it. All morning he laid out his design, plotted the rivet holes and then, carefully sawing at the midline, split the piece lengthwise. Before he stopped to eat he firmly bound the pieces back together. All afternoon he incised and chipped and scraped until the revealed form traveled around the handle like a cat climbing a tree. Continue reading

7 A Wyrd Thing – part the first

To Market, To Market

Horse and Honey had rummaged around, industriously shaping their morning. Bird wouldn’t rise until after noon and until then they hunted out greens, herbs and a few river crabs for day meal.

Horse was bemoaning the lack of ale to go with the crustaceans and Honey’s thoughts were a bit grumpy since she hadn’t found the herbs she’d wanted to use. The last of the butter and some chopped sorrel would have to do…we have enough to trade if we go to market tomorrow. We’ll get some butter and more grain then.

While Honey was cutting the greens into a pot Horse groaned when he flopped down on the other side of the fire.

Why didn’t I move that rock before I sat on it, ach!” He reached into his belt purse to snake out the strip of leather he used to keep his hair out of his eyes. “If we are going to market tomorrow I’ll have this comb finished. That’s three, I’ve done, plus the knives.” Continue reading

Cautions and Acknowledgments


I started spinning out Parallel worlds into Parallex Tales because, no one would write the story I wanted to read.  Of course I have realized that no one could write the story I wanted, no one could satisfy my infernally itchy curiosity bump. I was the one with the questions and bless the internet, I could find some answers.

Herewith is my own red pencil version of Godric’s story, why he has those tattoos, what made him so wild as a young vampire, and what ultimately saved his soul.

Parallex is as historically correct as I could make it without a lifetime of study. I am eternally grateful to my Board of Advisers: the eminent British literary scholar, penpractice; the renowned translator and classics scholar, aspis7; my pocket archeologist, Adhara Tamar; and my generous medical and psychological consultants (aka friends and family).

Then there are the fan fiction writers who have been my constant companions in sickness and in health in winter and in summer; you have been a heartening validation to the creative spirit in all of us. An especial bow in the direction of Bathshebarocks and RandomDarkness for their love of history.  Carol E. Stewart gets an enthusiastic wave and a loud whoo-hooo!

I owe an incredible debt to the late Octavia Butler; her genius allowed me to see small slivers of the world she imagined for vampires. The world is a poorer place for her loss.

This is intended for mature audiences. It contains graphic depictions of, or allusions to,  life from  about 100 BCE (while the Dacian Kingdom in the Balkans was coalescing) through the Era of the Roman Empire  and up until more modern times.  Life was cheap and in some instances horribly brutal.

I have put together a playlist of pertinent videos; everything from net making to birdsong, from armor to latrines. Enjoy.

Parallel Worlds