She hated all this walking. Jay had suddenly decided that their life had become stale, full of the same old social gatherings in the evenings and the same tired London venues, followed by mornings spent with serious headaches and hangover cures.
“We really need to get out more. Like out, out, you know.”
“Definitely Jay-by baby! There is this great new place that has just opened up in Knightsbridge. Everyone’s raving about it. Shall we try that?”
Jay looked at her. “I don’t mean dinner, you know. More like the Great Outdoors. We need to hike. Go camping or something. That kind of out.”
Reena recoiled internally, whilst beaming a cheesy smile at him. Camping? Her? Never!
However, Asha had mentioned glamping to her before. That she could manage. All of her creature comforts, and ample Insta moments…
“So, I booked a pitch for us. We’re off tomorrow morning! Make sure you pack your hiking boots and lots of layers hun. It’ll be a laugh!”
Right. She could do this. And Jay would never book them anywhere untoward. It always needed WiFi, and hot tubs, a decent bar and eaterie, and a huge bed.
Back to that stumble.
Reena’s feet were aching. Her Adidas Tubulars weren’t built for actual sports or walking, and they certainly didn’t look Insta-worthy anymore.
“Jay! Seriously, how much fur-” As she stumbled, she looked up and saw a cross. Oh My God! Where had he brought her? To some graveyard? Was she going to be sacrificed?
Jay’s arm went round her instinctively and he pulled her up. “Reena, honestly. It’s only a bit of walking. Do you ever stop moaning?”
“Now, I just need to work out which way we have to go to get back to the campsite.”
Campsite… huh! Reena rolled her eyes as she remembered where they were meant to be sleeping tonight.
He hadn’t been joking. There were no luxury yurts, powerpoints or even WiFi. She had had to help him put up a tent. A tent, for God’s sake! And she was sleeping in an actual sleeping bag too…
“Hang on, what do you mean ‘work out which way’? Are we lost? Jay!”
“Not lost… just a bit… disorientated. Ah, hang on, here’s a sign post.”
He walked up to the cross, which wasn’t actually one, and read the signs.
“There you are, only three miles that way. Come on Reens, we can be back before sunset, and then we can make our dinner. Love a bit of beans on toast! You do know how to use the camp stove, don’t you?”
Er, no. Reena had barely used their cooker in their fancy kitchen, and he thought she would be able to operate a camp stove? This was going to be a long, hungry weekend…
It’s Jim Webster again, with another of his fantastical tales!
Let’s start with a photo…
Followed by a tale…
Getting Rich Moderately Rapidly Some people seem to drift into jobs that don’t really suit them. If they’re lucky then their lives get shaken up and they finally find themselves where they ought to be. Still it can be a traumatic experience and you end up hoping that it was worth the effort. I knew one couple who went through this process. Both were in jobs which they didn’t particularly like but weren’t quite sure how they could escape from them. One was Roa. She was a young woman who somehow ended up a downstairs maid. Even though it was a large establishments she found herself doing a fair bit of kitchen work as well. Many women quite take to the life and even look back on it with a degree of affection, once matrimony was whisked them away from it. Others frankly loath it and get out as soon as possible. Roa was trapped because whilst she didn’t like the job, her dislike wasn’t intense enough to drive her to do something about it. She was, after a fashion, courted by Erlman. His job was a little specialist. He was employed by a legal practice who would hire him out to householders worried about the honesty of their servants. Erlman would be sent to the household and would try and entice the servants into corrupt practices. If he succeeded the servant would be sacked. The problems became apparent when Erlman started to ‘test’ Roa as his contract of employment demanded. Firstly he was smitten with her. Secondly, when he suggested some minor peculation, Roa scolded him, not for his dishonesty but for his lack of imagination. Erlman had suggested she add a couple of bottles of wine to the order when the household wanted to top up their wine cellar. His cunning plan would be that they wouldn’t be missed when she spirited them away and they resold them. Roa pointed out that it would make far more sense to put in an extra grocery order. Rather than just have it delivered, tell the supplier it was for the family’s rural estate and so Erlman and her could hire a wagon, collect the extra and then sell that As I said, Erlman was probably more than a little in love with Roa at this point. So not only was he swayed by her genius, he also saw it as a way for him to get out of a job he disliked. Roa put in the order; Erlman collected it and then started a grocer’s business, selling produce from the back of a wagon. Obviously they couldn’t put too many extra orders on thehousehold budget because somebody would notice. Roa came up with the idea of putting in extra orders for other households as well. It was all quite informal, Erlman would present his list and whilst that was being fulfilled, then he would present a second, much shorter list. This he asked them to put on another account. He merely commented that as he was virtually passing the door of one establishment on his way to the other, everybody seemed to think it made sense for him to collect the extra. By sounding somewhat ‘put-upon’ he managed to convince everybody. The system worked remarkably well, they even bought their own wagon, pulled by two horses. Yet eventually the housekeeper in one of the establishments noticed that they seemed to be buying an awfully large amount of carbolic soap (one of Erlman’s best sellers,) and yet could never find any when they wanted it. Everything rushed headlong to an embarrassing climax. Roa was summoned by the housekeeper to the Master’s Study to discuss matters with an officer from the watch. She managed to slip away and ran to where Erlman should be to tell him that the game was up and they’d better flee. Alas when she found him, he was already under arrest. She was arrested and the pair of them were incarcerated awaiting trial. Their future looked grave. In such cases the city sells the indenture of the guilty party, and they labour in the Houses of Licentiousness, sorting through the eggs of shore clams in the great tanks, sorting male and female for immediate consumption or further growth. One is always cold and wet, and because the cost of food is deducted from your wages, one is probably hungry as well. Roa and Erlman were comparatively lucky. Lord Cartin was taking his condottieri east along the Paraeba to assist the cities of the upper river against the Scar nomads. These savages were raiding south of the river and Lord Cartin was contracted to put together an expeditionary force with some urgency. Obviously he had his own men-at-arms and crossbowmen, but he was desperately short of supply wagons. In Partann, one is never short of villages or towns from which to buy supplies. On the Red Steppe and in the foothills of the Madrigals there is no point in attempting to live off the land. Everything you need, you have to carry with you. So Lord Cartin bought Roa and Erlman’s indenture, on the understanding that their horses and wagon were included. They found themselves indentured as sutlers. They bought military and non-military supplies and attempted to make a profit selling them to the troops. It was not an easy role to take on. Making excess profits by overcharging your customers was dangerous. Lord Cartin disapproved, but even more to the point, so did the customers, and they were heavily armed and often belligerent. On the other hand Roa and Erlman soon realised that it was relatively easy to purchase their stock at very competitive prices. They merely had to ask Lord Cartin to let them have an armed escort when they went to restock, and the presence of a dozen truculent crossbowmen soon encouraged even the most avaricious wholesaler to reason. Still, it wasn’t what one would call an easy life. More than once, Scar raiders attempted to hit a small relief column they were part of. Erlman soon acquired a sword and a crossbow whilst Roa learned to drive a horse team with one hand, whilst fending off questing light horsemen with a whip held in the other. They finally paid off their indenture by presenting Lord Cartin with the ponies of three Scar braves who’d attempted to run off the wagon. Two had fallen to Erlman’s crossbow; the third had died under the wheels of the wagon, having fallen off his pony when entangled in the whip. Lord Cartin asked them to serve out the campaign for wages. This they did, before settling in Oiphallarian to set up a grocer’s business. Strangely enough I know met both of them after the siege of Oiphallarian. They’d both survived, Roa had brained a Scar warrior with a dolly peg, and Erlman had been appointed captain of one of the many militia companies which were formed to help man the walls. They were in Port Naain, buying a boat load of food to take to the stricken city. Just for old time’s sake, they managed to split the cost between the accounts of a dozen wealthy households who might not notice for months.
So welcome back to Port Naain. This blog tour is to celebrate the genius of Tallis Steelyard, and to promote two novella length collections of his tales.
So meet Tallis Steelyard, the jobbing poet from the city of Port Naain. This great city is situated on the fringes of the Land of the Three Seas. Tallis makes his living as a poet, living with his wife, Shena, on a barge tied to a wharf in the Paraeba estuary. Tallis scrapes a meagre living giving poetry readings, acting as a master of ceremonies, and helping his patrons run their soirees. These are his stories, the anecdotes of somebody who knows Port Naain and its denizens like nobody else. With Tallis as a guide you’ll meet petty criminals and criminals so wealthy they’ve become respectable. You’ll meet musicians, dark mages, condottieri and street children. All human life is here, and perhaps even a little more.
Firstly;- Tallis Steelyard, Deep waters, and other stories.
More of the wit, wisdom and jumbled musings of Tallis Steelyard. Discover the damage done by the Bucolic poets, wonder at the commode of Falan Birling, and read the tales better not told. We have squid wrestling, lady writers, and occasions when it probably wasn’t Tallis’s fault. He even asks the great question, who are the innocent anyway?
And then there is;- Tallis Steelyard. Playing the game, and other stories.
More of the wit, wisdom and jumbled musings of Tallis Steelyard. Marvel at the delicate sensitivities of an assassin, wonder at the unexpected revolt of Callin Dorg. Beware of the dangers of fine dining, and of a Lady in red. Travel with Tallis as his poetical wanderings have him meandering through the pretty villages of the north. Who but Tallis Steelyard could cheat death by changing the rules?
If you want to see more of the stories from the Land of the Three Seas, some of them featuring Tallis Steelyard, go to my Amazon page at
As you know from previous posts, this Blog has been nominated for Best Book Blog this year, so if you feel the urge, a vote would be wonderful, though there are so many deserving blogs on there…! Take your pick!
I’m just excited to be going!!!
It’s that time of year again… The 2019 Annual Bloggers Bash Awards are now open. As always, we had a huge number of nominations. So let me thank everyone who took the time to nominate t…
After a wonderful review of my poetry book, Poetic RITUals, Lucy Mitchell, of BlondeWriteMore blog fame (she is too funny, you must follow her!) she mentioned to me that she had been searching for inspiring pietry aimed at writers and creative types… words that may inspire and help nudge you through the tough writerly moments we go through…
Now, I can’t magic up a whole book but it got me thinking, and I penned a little Etheree quartet, dedicated to my fave Blonde, Lucy, and all the writers out there!
The Four Stages
Write Right now Momentum The need to type I feel them coming Ideas multiply Fingers fly across the keys Story seeds blossom into trees A book the world will all want to read Thousands of words reaching a crescendo
Blank It’s gone I’ve lost it My story thread No ideas flow Inspiration has run dry All my dreams come crashing down I’ll never be a best seller Should I delete the whole sorry lot? No one will ever want to read this stuff
Read Inspired Just maybe I can do this My book could happen Someone might just like it Plot twists thicken in my mind Endings start to come together Put the book down; get the keyboard out It’s time to make my book dream come to life
Write Again Typing fast Renewed vigour Finish is in sight I almost can’t keep up Words tumble onto my screen Loose ends seem to come together Tying up the story completely Breathe… and finally type those words… ‘The End’
Ritu 2019
There is my inspiration for this verse… Lovely Lucy, alongside my dear friend, His Geoffleship!