Whether you're reading The War or not, you're welcome to read this chapter.

The War was always pretty epic. The satirical style of The Journey's and The Claw's earlier stages was nowhere here. We, my sister and I, had wanted a real, gritty war(bloodthirsty 12- and 14-year-olds): people struggling to cope with the collapse of their life; death, injuries. The concept of love and loyalties grew swiftly and easily into prominent themes of the book.

When we finished playing/inventing the war, I leaped up next morning and started to write down the scene that was most vividly in my head: the Dragon Battle. (look forward to that one, y'all. It's juicy.) And that was the way I continued to write The War. Not chronologically, like all the others. Just whatever scene was burning most clearly in my mind.

I (somewhat hilariously, now that I look back on it) having tried to outline the book in my head, assigned chapter numbers to each chapter I wrote. The table of contents that I wrote in the front of the notebook (which is currently falling to shreds) looked like this:

[Chapter] 1 ~ [Page] 8

2 ~ 83

3 ~ 94

4 ~ 101

5 ~ 61

[6 through 9 were not yet written]

10 ~ 23 (note: this was the most controversial chapter. It was originally listed as being chapter 9b, meaning that 9 was supposed to start earlier than the scene did. I decided it would be 9 on its own later, and then realizing the material I had to get through switched it to 10. Months later, I was pretty sure it would be Chapter 14. It is currently Chapter 15.)

[11 through 13 unwritten]

14 ~ 15 (at an estimated guess, this chapter will now be in the mid-20s)

And so forth. I ended up with a plan of 28 chapters. The story will actually be encompassing between 40 and 50 chapters.

Anyway.

If you look up there, you'll see Chapter 1 is listed as page 8. It was in fact the second one I ever wrote, and I'm going to reproduce it here with commentary included.

(note: if you read this you will be exposed to the fact that a certain character does NOT die in the previous book. If you are okay with being spoiled for that minor comforting fact go ahead.)

Chapter 1 of The War, dating from April 2014

The morning of the twelfth of April was clear and sunny. [portion of about a sentence missing from my dead notebook] [...] until the spring horse sale; women were going through their seeds and bringing out warmer-weather clothes, in answer to their children's pestering. (The number of -ing's in this sentence is making my eyes bleed) The day promised to be warm, perhaps warmer than any day yet this April, and several people even suggested it would get up to the sixties, though these were scoffed at. The idea of sixty-degree weather before the twentieth of April at least! (Orden's temps were supposed to mimic my own home's. However, this was pushing it. We have definitely had sixty-degree weather by April 20th, more than once, though UNFORTUNATELY I don't think it happened this year) Up in Ceristen, the town had long been awake. Already from various houses on the slopes of the mountain girls and women were issuing; this would be a good day to go to town and get groceries, and, of course, hear the latest news.

But the quiet serenity of the beautiful April morning was lost on the young man galloping grimly through the streets of Orden City. (This is one of the few sentences in my old draft that has remained largely unchanged and I still love the fierce change of pace and the pulsing urgency of the picture it puts in my head.) He pulled up his horse a few miles outside the east end of town, and gazed up at Mitheren, Tower of Kings in Old Ordenian. It was a mighty structure that Thireler the Conqueror had achieved, and beautiful even in its simplicity; but the man had not come to gawk at a building. He glanced around, swung off his horse, and led it over to a nearby tree where he tied it securely. Then he strode over to the door, spoke a few hurried words to the guard standing there, and rushed inside. He had a message for the General; he would not wait.

As a matter of fact a lot of this paragraph is still unchanged. It's basically the best part of this chapter. Get ready 'cos what's coming is a whole lot worse.

~*~

The General sat at his desk, riffling through various documents. The bother of being Conrad's second-in-command, he thought, making another line through an unnecessary sentence. (Basically the General's poor life at this point was to help the king write his speeches, of which there was a ridiculous amount. Apparently the king had a very small grasp of how to write a decent paper. Hence the General and red pen.) There was a rap at the door. "Come in," he said aloud, looking up. Captain #3 entered.

He had no name for years. Finally I realized how stupid this was and he is now Captain Rhodes.

"There's a young man downstairs – says he has an urgent message for you," he announced dubiously. The General looked at him curiously.

"He's not from Ceristen, then?"

Okay, hold it there. Right there. *blows up*

APPARENTLY THEY LIVE IN MITHEREN EXPECTING THAT ANYONE WHO SHOWS UP WILL BE FROM THE TEENSY VILLAGE OF LESS THAN FIFTY PEOPLE??????

*takes deep breath* I need to keep my lid on, it's going to get worse.

"I've never seen him in my life," answered Captain #3. The General sighed. Some person with a leaky roof or incompetent electricians, like as not. "Bring him in," he said resignedly.

Because the General's only mission in life is totally to deal with incompetent electricians.

Except, at this point, it was. The General was literally called out for any and every triviality imaginable. 24/7. The. General. Of. All. Orden. Somebody broke out of jail so we call the General. There's talking animals on Mount Thiranu so we call the General. There's a giant chipmunk wreaking havoc in Ceristen so we call the General. (I wrote a newspaper article about this one)

Captain #3 left, reentered with said young man, and withdrew, shutting the door behind him. The General regarded the person before him with interest. He did not look more than twenty-five, and had dark brown hair and piercing dark eyes. He held himself with an air of determination, and his hand rested firmly on the hilt of his sword. Above all, the General noted, he looked impatient; and not the silly kind of impatience either, in which the person has nothing of real importance to say. No, the General decided, this man had not come to complain about a leaky roof or incompetent electricians. (Grant: I HAVE COME TO COMPLAIN ABOUT MY LEAKY--) "Well?" he asked intently. "What have you to say to me?"

The man looked into the General's eyes. "My name is Grant Eagle," he said. "And about two weeks ago I was in the lands far to the west, on the shores of the Great Sea. It would be a long story – too long – to explain how I came to be there. But as I traveled in those hills which are called the Grey Lands, one day around dusk I heard ahead of me voices. And I had not listened long before I knew that either I must hide, and hide well, or die. This is what I heard.

" 'Yes, this is a place of solitude. We were not followed?'

" 'No, Leader. I have made certain of that.'

" 'So then. What is the report?'

" 'He is doing well. They suspect nothing.' (He, for the record, referred to Lord Mirden the traitor)

"There was a harsh laugh from the other, and then, 'No. They would not. All so busy, busy with other petty troubles. (like leaky roofs) And they know not of the great danger they are in. Poor, unsuspecting Orden. She shall be crushed. Not one rumor yet has reached her of the great army building up here, of the carefully laid battle plans, of the spies infiltrating. But I run on. Continue.'

All I've got to say is that this is convenient. Waaaaaay too convenient. It's bad enough for him to be actually listening in on a top-secret conversation that surely the dude would be taking BIG precautions for nobody to hear. But to have said dude start rambling on in the classic evil monologue of his classic evil plans, no. No. No. Cease, desist.

I mean surely Grant would at least go look for this claimed army before he goes dashing away to the General. But spoiler: he doesn't.

" 'Your surmise was correct, Leader. The army is smaller than is commonly believed, and several hundred of that left a week ago to negotiate some terms with the country of Arahad.'

" 'Ah... that is well. We are certainly strong enough to march on it now.'

" 'Then why do you hold back, Leader?'

"There was a short silence then. When the Leader answered, his voice seemed curiously excited.

" 'I am waiting... there are people – two men – who I await the arrival of.'

" 'Spies, Leader?'

" 'No – well, yes... but not from any country here in this earth. When they come, they will come from the Fountain in the Great Sea.'

"At this the other drew in his breath sharply, and said, 'You mean... they will come from the other world?'

" 'Yes,' the Leader answered. 'They will come from the land of America, and they will bring me... things.'

" 'What sort of–" the other began, but the Leader cut him off.

" 'That is what I and they alone will know. And you have been greatly priviledged by hearing even this. Do not breathe a word of it to anyone. Do not even speak of it to me again.'

*sigh* This was completely chucked. And do you know why?

The "people from America" were scientists who had traveled forward in time to steal moldering information about Ceristen from my, yes, MY (by this future time abandoned) house, and for obscure reasons were sending it to the Leader, who for obscure reasons was curious about Ceristen.

There was no base to this. No logic. It was all plot convenience to build the Leader's inscrutable vendetta against Ceristen which he naturally no longer has.

"This was all. After that the voices continued but the men were moving away, and I could no longer hear what was being said." Grant Eagle ended his narrative and fell silent. The General sat silent also for a long time. At last he murmured, "What you heard about the state of the army is true. Lately there have been only small skirmishes to deal with, but there were so many..." Suddenly he stood and struck the desktop with his fist. "Of all the times to happen!" He sat down again and rested his head in his hand. "All these people... the people of Orden... they trust me. How they will suffer..." (This is touching and all but it feels ever so slightly forced to me.) He looked up at Grant Eagle, who was still standing in front of him. (#awkwardmoment) "I thank you," he said. "When I think what could have happened if I had never known – until it was too late..." His voice trailed off. Then he looked hard at the young man again. "I have a question for you, though," he said. "You are not a citizen of Orden–" he looked for confirmation. Grant Eagle nodded. "So why have you come to warn me?"

Grant Eagle said slowly, "I ran away from home when I was seven years old. It was only a month ago that I saw my father for the first time since then, and I acted foolish and headstrong. I tried to prove that I did not need him, or his advice. In so doing I nearly lost my life – through my rebellion. When next I saw my father, he was still doing what he had been doing then – travelling to Orden to live here. I have come with him – his country is going to be my country, and I would not stand by and see that country betrayed when it was in my power to forestall the worst of that betrayal."

(This was also touching and all. But killing off his father altogether was sooooo much more satisfactory.)

The General stepped from behind the desk and laid a hand on Grant's shoulder. "You have courage," he said gently. "And again you have my thanks. When the day comes in which we must face the enemy, I think I shall not be without at least one man to fight. " The General paused, and stood for a time lost in thought. "Come here again tomorrow," he said. "I think I am going to need to speak to you about something."

Grant nodded, turned, and left. The General sank down on a chair, and sat there for a long time. His mind whirled. Amidst all the fear and danger there was a hope... if it would only work.

~*~

"My, you were late to dinner yesterday, Grant," Fatima Eagle remarked tactlessly at the breakfast table. Alair Eagle looked as though he was about to say something to his daughter, but finally shook his head and picked up his fork again. Larena was more forthcoming. "Fatima, you said that at least three times yesterday. Leave off, won't you? I'm sure Grant knows by now that he was late to dinner yesterday." In a quieter voice she muttered, "You'd think she was the younger girl. The youngest! She acts more of seven than twenty-one."

I'm so glad I got rid of Grant's family. They were mostly annoying.

Grant had paid little or no attention to Fatima and the ensuing protestations; he was sitting silent, toying aimlessly with his food, staring off into space. Abruptly he stood and pushed his chair back. "I'm leaving," he announced curtly and strode out the door.

He reached Mitheren in about an hour's time, not driving his horse so hard as he had the day before, and upon entering the tower found himself face to face with the General. Both were startled, but the General recovered himself and smiled. "Good," he said, "you have come. I was calling for one of the Captains to send for you; but that will not be needed. Come, follow me up to my room. We must talk."

In the room which Grant had been shown into before, the General paced up and down. Eventually he turned to Grant.

"You and your family have moved into the town of Ceristen?" (Because there's no other town in the country that they would move to) Grant confirmed this with a nod. "There is in that town three of a family by the name of Kenhelm." Grant nodded again. "Yes; Mordred and Fenris came by yesterday afternoon."

"So you have seen them – two of them. They have a brother – Ahearn Kenhelm..." the General paused, and then resumed more urgently than ever. "Ahearn unexpectedly became king – about a month and a half ago – of a country about two day's journey west and south. Dirion: you have heard of it? (Excuse me, Dirion's a fair-sized place and this guy has spent eighteen years wandering the world, I think it would be a shocker if he hadn't heard of it.) We have an alliance with Fernland (later Fearnland) ... but I dare not risk the journey when there are sure to be so many spies (Dude. You need help, look for help. DO IT.) ... and he will help us, in any way he can. Of that I am certain. So he must be reached; and the sooner the better." Grant understood fully. "You mean you wish me to go to him."

"Yes," the General answered.

"I shall go, then. But will he believe me?"

"Take this." The General handed him a letter. "This contains my signature and seal. It is the plea for aid, which I wrote last night, and let him read it if he will; but I want you to tell him yourself first. These things are more urgent when heard from a man's own lips." The General was silent for a short time, and then continued. "Leave as soon as you can; today if possible. No time must be lost. And be wary of whom you speak to on the road. There may be a spy hidden in every load of hay, under every wide-brimmed hat and bristling beard." (So eloquent) Suddenly he smiled. "Of course there is not, but think that way." Grant smiled back. Already he could see why Orden was so fiercely loyal to their General.

"You may leave now." The General took a step forward and looked into Grant's eyes. "Be careful," he said simply.

"I will." And Grant departed. Down the steps, through the corridors, out the great doors, onto his horse, through the woods and up the mountain he went, pressing his horse, not stopping for rest. Leaping off the horse before it had even come to a full stop, he burst in the door. "I must leave," he said over his shoulder as he made for the stairs. Coming down a little later with a small bundle, he added, "Don't be worried unless you don't hear from me in – oh – two weeks." Best to give them a good length of time, he thought, shutting the door behind him and swinging onto the patiently waiting horse. Without a backward glance he galloped down the mountain. The last thing needed was delay. If he could just reach Ahearn in time...

***

Soooo yeah. While the basic framework of this chapter remained the same (barring the scenario with crazy family) the differences are radical. Still, it's fun to see the echoes of character traits clearly defined later, like the General's tenderness and Grant's burning resolve to carry out his task.

Well, that was a fun waste of an hour... now I'd better get back to writing the REAL War...