Today it is time for another portion of the cover design for The Flame Before Us, together with another portion of the book itself. In terms of actual progress towards publication, the Author’s Notes section is now complete, and proof-reading the whole is well under way.

First, the picture. These are in fact Late Bronze Age steps, though not from the specific place described in the story. These are from Megiddo, somewhat to the north of Ramoth Hurriy where the story places them. Where do the steps go in The Flame Before Us? That’s a portion which I have not yet shared in any extracts…

Now for today’s section. It follows one of the newcomers into the land, Nikleos, a member of the Sherden clan led by Antos. It is in a rural setting in what is now the borderland between Israel and Lebanon.

Nikleos’ clan camped for the night in a valley bowl far enough beyond the crest of a ridge that their progress was clear. It had been a long drag upwards through the afternoon. The character of the land had changed again as they had worked their way south, and their pace had slowed considerably. Although the land was flatter, it was clothed with stands of low trees and scrub land. It was not like the great forests that stood further north and nearer the coast, but it was dense enough to seriously impede progress.

The sun was still quite high in the early spring sky when Antos blew his leader’s horn to call a halt, but a considerable time passed before they made camp. Finally the wagons were arranged in their circle, the beasts were inside, and fires had been set. The boys who had been tasked with the day’s hunting had all come back, prey in hand, and the smell of cooking drifted across the encampment.

He shook his head. With the young men constantly away with the raiding parties, the group was never properly mixed. Boys, older men, and women of all ages filled the camp and shared out the tasks that would normally fall to the lads. Perhaps in a few months they would settle again and life would return to its usual pattern.

Nikleos watched as the women of his family prepared the food. It crossed his mind that Kastiandra was too thin, but that would not change until they found a place to settle. All of them would stay too thin while the journey continued. When he thought back to their life on the other side of the sea, she had had a much more attractive roundness to her form which had been peeled away from her on the journey.

There, in their farmstead just outside the village where Antos had been arkon, there had been lamb and mutton whenever they wanted, plentiful butter and cheese, and honey always available from the bees who inhabited a nearby stand of trees. They had left that all behind when they set sail for Wilios. The men, himself included, had always boarded the quick ships to raid isolated towns or islands, but this was something new.

Families and clans from many different valleys and coastal bays had united that time, stirred up by Akamunas to seize the great prize of Wilios. It had been a fine sight, all those ships together crossing the water. The siege had been long and hard, and it had exposed violent disagreements among the clans themselves, but in the end they had done it. The enterprise had become too big, too prideful, to halt.

The final capture and plunder of the city had soon been turned into song, but it had left his people with a hard choice. Antos had led his people onwards, instead of returning over the sea. Many other village arkons had done the same, eager to find other cities with easy wealth to gather, quite sure that any of them would be easier than Wilios. And so now here they were, heading south through this land of which they knew nothing, unsure where or when to settle.

Don’t miss the next of the cover components being revealed!

This extract first appeared in the “Excerpts” section of the Facebook Review Group and so I thought I should post it here as well! It is the opening portion of the fourth strand of Flame, introducing us to Labayu. He is currently living at Ramath-Galil, considerably to the north of his home town of Kephrath, in a small village near the Sea of Kinreth – known today as the Sea of Galilee.

Labayu stepped out of his door into the early light. Now that the villagers of this clan had cleared the belt of trees just below the crest of the ridge, he could see all the way south across the valley to the wooded ridge opposite. It was a magnificent view. Behind him and to his left, the houses swept in a arc either side of the track that led down towards the Sea of Kinreth. One day soon they would finish the circle and have a settlement that was more defensible.

The mist was hanging in thick swathes in the creases of the land, and the late winter sun was slow to warm it away. Normally at this time, he would be listening to the familiar sound of Ashtartiy starting the grindstone on its daily revolutions. Around homes and doors, work was starting in Ramath-Galil, and he lifted his hand in acknowledgment as Shemiram went by the house to check his overnight snares for game. But Ashtartiy was no longer here.

He turned to go back in, when he was stopped by the sight of a youth running up the track. He was wearing the kef of the town of Merom, but tied around his arm just now so as not to restrict his movement.

He reached the open ground in the middle of the houses and stopped, catching his breath in great gulps of air. He looked round at the doors and windows, waiting for a response. There was a short pause, and then Pedayah, the village headman, walked over towards him, carrying the cup of welcome.

As Labayu joined the growing circle of curious people, the youth finished the cup and handed it back to Pedayah. He was breathing steadily now, and the flush of exertion was fading. He tied his kef properly and looked around the ring of faces, waiting for permission to speak. Pedayah nodded.

“A bright morning to you, lad.”

“And a morning of light to you, sir, and to your people.”

They exchanged formal greetings between Pedayah and the youth’s own headman for a short time. Finally that was done.

“Look now, what brings you to us today, and in haste?”

The lad looked down at the cold ground briefly, the better to remember the words he had been told.

“Sir, I have been sent around with a word from the clan head Shillem. The word says that the king of Hatsor is sending men and chariots both. Large numbers of them, far more numerous than your whole village. He is demanding more tribute, and he will also take some more of your young men with him as runners. He will be here on the third day from now, or perhaps the day after. The clan head Shillem says that each settlement is to make its own choice how to act.”

There was a ripple of discontent around the circle, but until the headman replied, nobody would speak aloud. Labayu waited along with the others. The news was not unexpected, and Pedayah had already sat with the elders to discuss their response. For a short time, only the breeze from the west stirred the hilltop village.

“I say that we will leave Ramath-Galil for the time being. We will move south for a time to be closer to the rest of our people.”

A collective sigh came from the group. Pedayah rounded on them.

“You all knew this would happen. These houses that we have built: we will come back to them before the year is out. This is nothing new for us. I remember wandering as a child, and to wander was the life of our fathers. It is nothing new.”

He looked at Labayu.

“Is there any news from your scouts that would lead me to make a different choice?”

All on track for a release early in the New Year 2015, I think…