Here’s an excerpt from my recently released fantasy novel Ravenseed, an epic tale of love, lust, betrayal, and vengeance. It is mostly set in the Dark Ages, with a parallel plot in the present. This scene is from Chapter 3, in which Sir Peter, Sir Matthew, and their squires Hugh and Robin encounter a mysterious monk as they ride to war. The monk warns against the detour they are about to take to the Raven Inn.
The path through the woods grew broader as we approached the fork in the road. To the left, the path went down into a valley, into thicker forest that I knew would eventually bring us to our destination, just outside Plymouth. To the right, the path climbed further, leading west towards the great river and the bridge that separated Cornwall from the rest of the land.
As we approached, I noticed a man in a brown robe standing facing us at the fork in the road. His face was hidden by a hood, but he appeared to be a monk. In his hand, he held a staff. Something about his manner bothered me, and it seemed clear that he wished to speak with us. Everyone else sensed the same, as we came to a joint decision to halt our horses.
‘Greetings friend,’ I said. ‘Can we help you?’
The Monk drew back his hood, revealing a youthful face with pale skin. His dark eyes were wide and intense. He looked us over, as though evaluating or assessing us. I didn’t care for his gaze, which felt uncomfortably shrewd and penetrating. It made me want to hide, though from what I did not know.
‘Are you lost?’ said Matthew.
‘I see my path better than you,’ said the Monk.
His voice had a curious, deep tone that echoed more than I expected amid the dense woodland. Was this really a monk from a local monastery? I shivered. Everything about this young man unsettled me. He didn’t belong in this landscape.
‘You speak in riddles,’ I said. ‘Yet we cannot break our journey to indulge in such discourse, as we wish to reach the Raven Inn by nightfall.’
‘So, you will turn left,’ said the Monk.
In his voice I sensed disappointment. I could not understand why our journey should be of interest to him, a complete stranger. What could he possibly know of our decision to take a detour to the inn, rather than continue west to Cornwall?
‘Who are you?’ I asked.
The Monk shook his head. ‘Who I am is unimportant, but you may call me Brother Mordecai.’
‘Well, Brother Mordecai,’ said Matthew. ‘If you do not require our assistance, we will wish you well and continue our journey.’
Mordecai addressed Matthew. ‘There is death ahead for you if you take the right path.’
Matthew and I exchanged bemused glances. This young monk was eccentric, possibly even mad, but he didn’t seem dangerous. Why then did he fill me with such unease?
‘Why are you saying that?’ asked Matthew.
‘Because something worse than death lies in wait if you take the left path.’
‘What if we turn around and go back the way we came?’ Matthew asked, not caring to hide the mockery in his voice.
The Monk did not answer. Matthew addressed him in exasperated tones. ‘Well, Brother Mordecai, we wish to avoid death, and I fail to see what could be worse than that, so if it’s all the same to you, I think we’ll continue on our journey to the Raven Inn.’
‘It is not all the same to me,’ said the Monk. ‘If you take the path to the Raven Inn, I will regret it. I am sent to deliver warnings, and when they are not heeded, I am grieved.’
‘Sent by whom?’ I asked.
The Monk did not answer. Robin and Hugh began to chuckle amongst themselves at this somewhat absurd figure. But there was a nervousness to their laughter, and however much we might have desired to ridicule Brother Mordecai, with hindsight I must admit that moment unsettled us all.
‘Brother Mordecai, you are not speaking reason,’ said Matthew. ‘You stand yonder, and make nebulous, mystical pronouncements, claiming we have a choice between death or something worse. That is no choice at all!’
‘If you do not understand that there are worse things than death, you have my pity.’ The Monk shook his head. ‘Perhaps I am destined to deliver warnings that are unheeded, so I better understand the perspective of God. But that is my burden to bear, not yours.’
The Monk sat down at the fork in the path and cast his eyes to the ground. Matthew and I stared at one another in bewilderment. What could this man know of our journey? How could he possibly think appearing here before us with no explanation, urging us to ride to certain death would possibly result in us heeding his advice? It was preposterous. Brother Mordecai had to be mad.
‘You’re insane,’ said Matthew, voicing my thoughts. He indicated to Hugh. ‘Come!’
We continued to ride, taking the left fork, onto the path that led down into the denser woodland. As we passed the Monk, he remained seated, staring down at the ground. Only as I turned my head from him did I catch, out of the corner of my eye, one final glance up at me. I couldn’t swear to it, but I sensed dismay, as though he had singled me out for special pity.
You can pick up Ravenseed from Amazon on Kindle or paperback here (in the UK) and here (in the US). Downloads or paperbacks are also available from Draft2Digital, Smashwords, and associated outlets here.
Simon Dillon Books 
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