Fall into Fantasy Tour #16: The Disciple Series by L. Blankenship

Welcome to the Fall Into Fantasy Tour, where we are keeping your mind off any end-of-summer blues and welcoming the cooler weather by introducing you to some incredible fantasy reads to curl up with and giving you plenty of chances to win awesome prizes!

Week 16: The Disciple Series by L. Blankenship

War is coming. Kate Carpenter is only a peasant girl, but she’s determined to help defend the kingdom and its bound saints against the invading empire. Her healing magic earned her a coveted apprenticeship with the master healer; now she must prove herself ready to stand in the front lines and save lives.

She’s not ready for the attentions of a ne’er-do-well knight and the kingdom’s only prince, though. This is no time to be distracted by romance — the empire’s monstrous army will tear through anyone standing between them and the kingdom’s magical founts. All disciples must put aside their tangled feelings and stand in the homeland’s defense.

Disciple is a six-part gritty fantasy romance by L. Blankenship. Part I through Part IV are on sale now at all major retailers! 

Download PART I for free! 

FREE at Amazon • Smashwords • B&N • AllRomance

Disciple, Part V on sale now! 

Look for the final volume, Part VI, in 2015!

Get reminders by joining L's mailing list

EXCERPT:

“You couldn’t sleep either?”

At the whisper, I looked up from struggling to lace my boots with trembling hands. My master stepped into my dormitory room, adding his lamp’s light to my candle.

“Why must I dress as a boy?” I whispered back. Perhaps I was not so buxom, but I doubted I’d fool anyone. “This makes little sense.”

“Patience.” Master Parselev placed his lamp on my writing-table and checked my packed bags. “They’re gathering at the chapel already. None of us got much sleep, it seems.”

The straw mattress creaked when I stood, boots laced and the woolen hose sagging between my thighs. I ran my fingers around my waist, under my layered cotes, to check the drawstring. “Are these right, Master?” I’d strung the hose and braies together as best I could guess and as memory was my Blessing I had no excuse for failing. Men’s underthings weren’t much concern to me — if I saw such, or more, it was while the man lay bleeding on the surgery table.

“If they stay up, it’s right. Good. This too.” He slung a heavy felt cloak across my shoulders and pinned it on. The hood buried my face in shadows; my blonde braid, even wrapped around my head, would give me away.

I asked, “Master, this journey will be long, won’t it?” Parselev had given me more clothes than I’d ever owned to pack in those bags. All heavy winter woolens, too. “Shouldn’t you go, then?”

He looked down at me, mouth quirking to one side. Master was a greybeard, said to be over a hundred years old, but his kir kept his eyes bright and his face lightly creased. I had only been his apprentice two years. Surely I could not be ready for this.

“It must be you, Kate,” was all he said. He carried one of my bags, and I took the other.

Wreathed in breath-clouds, we crossed the Order’s campus. Low on the horizon, the slim, waxing crescent of the Shepherd hung golden, all seven of his Flock scattered in the sky behind him. He gave the only hint that dawn was coming. The cloak kept me marvelously warm, even in the chilly breeze. No frost this morning, not yet, but it was only a few weeks off.

Master un-bolted the side gate and led me to the door of the Grand Chapel. Horses waited on the grass, many horses chewing at their bits and shaking their heads, most of them with knights in the saddles. The knights’ black tabards, worn over suits of mail, had a white horse embroidered on the right shoulder and two gold stars on the left, marking them knights and Prince’s Guard as well. Kite shields and bucket helms hung on their saddles, in easy reach.

Several of the horses stood with empty saddles, collectively held by a couple of pageboys, and that gave me pause. I’d never been on a horse; I was only a peasant girl. But it could not be so awful, I told myself, so I gripped my cloak a little tighter and followed Master Parselev inside.

My new boots rang too loudly in the empty chapel, and when I slowed to lighten my step I fell behind. Only one lamp burned on the high table before the icons, and its light was mostly blocked by those gathered below the two steps. Faces were cast in shadow as they turned toward us — all looming in the dim light, some cloaked like me, others not — and I knew none of them. I kept my head down as I joined my master before them, glad the hood hid my face.

“Not ready, Elect?” one asked, his voice low but strong. “Who’s this?”

“My apprentice will safeguard the travelers,” my master answered. “She has —”

“What?” The man stepped closer, his shoulders blocking out the light.

“Majesty, she’s my finest student.” Parselev put up a hand when the stranger reached for my hood.

My knees trembled as the word echoed in my head. Majesty. I stood before the king of Wodenberg. Wobbling a bit, I dropped to one knee in obeisance, fist pressed to my heart. The king yanked off my hood while I stared at the flagstone floor, pulse pounding.

“This girl?” the king demanded. “You trust a mere disciple with this mission?”

ABOUT L. BLANKENSHIP

L. Blankenship started writing animal stories as a kid and it's just gotten completely out of hand since then. Now she's out publishing her gritty fantasy and hard science fiction adventures. L grew up in New Hampshire but currently lives near Washington, DC.

Book blog • Writing blog • Goodreads

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Guest Post: A Peak Inside the World of Disciple by L. Blankenship

Today we've got another stop on the Disciple: Part II blog tour. L. Blankenship is popping by to give us some insight into the world she built for the world of the Disciple series. She's here to discuss medicine in her fantasy world. Without further ado, I'll leave it to L. Blankenship to show you guys the ropes of medicinal world building! Be sure to check out her book on Amazon (for the Kindle or paperback), Barnes & Noble, Smashwords, and Kobo.

Primitive First Aid

Let's say you're building a fantasy world with a pre-industrial level of technology. Let's say you don't want to rely on healing magic to patch your characters up when they get into trouble. This post aims to help get your brain burbling about what your characters will need.

What do people in your fantasy world know about medicine? What misconceptions are they carrying around? That's up to you. There are, however a number of things which it's quite reasonable for even primitive people to know about when it comes to treating injuries.

Cleanliness and health

General cleanliness is one of the easiest ways to improve one's health -- and one of the most variable aspects of a pre-industrial world. Is being clean considered important, in that culture? Do most people have access to soap and water? How long does it take to heat water, or must they settle for cold baths? Are they healthy enough to not catch a fever from taking cold baths?

Do most people get enough to eat? Is it fairly nutritionally balanced? Where can they get vitamins when fruit and veggies are out of season?

First aid kit

What's reasonable to put in a pre-industrial first aid kit?

Clean bandages, whether rags, hemmed fabric, or custom-woven. Two or three inches wide and maybe two feet long.

Curved needles and suturing thread. The thread can be any number of things: catgut (made from sheep intestines, actually) has been used since antiquity as a naturally absorbing (though it may also be scar-producing) suture. Silk was also popular, where it was available. Wool can be used, too. Those stitches will need to be removed later, though.

Scissors/shears. Primitive scissors tend to look more like shears.

Scalpel. The smallest, finest blade that blacksmiths can manage.

Tweezers. How fine-nosed they are will depend on the smiths.

Person should know how to set a bone, pop a joint back in, lance an abscess, and stitch wounds.

Also include a wound-cleaning method (see next point)

Simple ways to clean a wound

Whether your people even realize a wound needs cleaning is an entirely different argument. But assuming you've worked that out, bear in mind that none of these are as effective as modern topical antibiotic creams, rubbing alcohol or iodine, but they will increase the survivability of a wound. Which of these is most appropriate for your characters to have at hand depends on technology, environment, and cost.

Soap and water

Vinegar

Distilled alcohol

Witch hazel

Not Helpful

Should we pour boiling wine on the wound? Let's look at this logically: modern table wine is up to 14% alcohol, so it's 86% water. Alcohol boils at a lower temperature than water does, so by the time wine starts to boil the alcohol content has already dropped. So then you pour this boiling liquid onto an open wound and add a burn to your list of problems. You've now definitely killed the tissue around your wound, making it more hospitable to invading bacteria -- and giving your body more healing to do. Great idea.

Which does not mean that people won't do this, of course. There's a long history of medical practices that did at least as much harm as good, out there. But the writer should know the truth, as much as possible.

There's magical healing in my novel Disciple, but when the magic runs out they fall back on primitive medical techniques to keep their patients alive. Kate is a physician, so she is right in the thick of the stitching and bone-setting, but all the gore she sees is because she's there to help.

Back cover of Disciple, Part II

The prince first kissed Kate Carpenter for fear of missing the chance if they didn’t survive the journey home through the monster-prowled mountains.

Now that kiss seems like a fever dream. It’s back to work for her, back to the fellow physicians jealous of her talents and the sneers of an infirmary director who wants her shipped off to some tiny village. Kate means to be on the front lines to save lives. She’s worked too hard to overcome her past to let them deny her the chance to serve her homeland when the enemy’s army reaches their kingdom.

The grand jousting tournament is a chance to prove she can manage combat wounded, and at the royal Solstice banquet Kate means to prove she isn’t an ignorant peasant girl anymore.

But the prince’s kiss still haunts her. Their paths keep crossing, and the easy familiarity they earned on the journey home is a welcome escape from their duties. It’s a small slip from chatting to kisses.

This is no time to be distracted by romance -- a vast and powerful empire is coming to slaughter anyone standing between them and the kingdom’s magical fount.

Kate ought to break both their hearts, for duty’s sake.

Disciple, Part II on sale now

along with Disciple, Part I

at all major online retailers

More information, updates, and extras at Disciple of the Fount

Sample of Part I • Sample of Part II

Disciple, Part III coming in late 2013

Disciple is complete in six parts and will make a lovely doorstop

when all 400k words have been published.

Goodreads links:

Disciple, Part I • Disciple, Part II

Disciple Part II Excerpt

L. Blankenship has been busy at work since she last stopped by the blog for her Disciple Part I tour. How busy? Busy enough to have already cranked out Disciple Part II! Today, I have an excerpt from the book to share with you guys. On the 10th, L. Blankenship will be here to discuss medicine in the world of Disciple. Until then, check out Part II at Amazon (for the Kindle or paperback), Barnes & Noble, Smashwords, and Kobo.

The prince first kissed Kate Carpenter for fear of missing the chance if they didn’t survive the journey home through the monster-prowled mountains.

Now that kiss seems like a fever dream. It’s back to work for her, back to the fellow physicians jealous of her talents and the sneers of an infirmary director who wants her shipped off to some tiny village. Kate means to be on the front lines to save lives. She’s worked too hard to overcome her past to let them deny her the chance to serve her homeland when the enemy’s army reaches their kingdom.

The grand jousting tournament is a chance to prove she can manage combat wounded, and at the royal Solstice banquet Kate means to prove she isn’t an ignorant peasant girl anymore.

But the prince’s kiss still haunts her. Their paths keep crossing, and the easy familiarity they earned on the journey home is a welcome escape from their duties. It’s a small slip from chatting to kisses.

This is no time to be distracted by romance -- a vast and powerful empire is coming to slaughter anyone standing between them and the kingdom’s magical fount.

Kate ought to break both their hearts, for duty’s sake. 

Excerpt:

After spending the day debriefing the king on the results of their mission, Prince Kiefan leads Kate into a quieter part of the castle...

He still held my hand. No voices, nobody nearby to see us. I swallowed a nervous lump in my throat, wondering where he meant to take me. And what he meant to do there. Surely I didn’t have to worry whether anyone would hear me scream… was there anything he could do that I’d need to?

My cheeks warmed.

Slim pillars held up a graceful stone arcade. Between them, we walked onto frost-burnt grass. A gnarled apple tree, leaves golden and half fallen to the ground, stood ringed by a waist-high juniper hedge. Beyond, the castle wall rose sheer and seamless. To either side, the watchtowers bulged from its face and spiked up like smooth horns. I had to crane my neck to find the tips, and in doing spotted the catwalks that connected each tower to the roof of Castle Kaltkern. The garden lay below the keep, hemmed in by saint-cut cliffs on both sides.

A crescent garden, I saw now. To either side, more fruit trees dropped their leaves, and the rose bushes had gone bare for the winter, but the juniper hedges held their green. Under the central apple tree waited a broad wooden bench. By my hand, still warm in his grip, Kiefan led me toward it and a tangle of hopes and fears snapped tight around my heart.

He didn’t sit, though. He stood under the tree and looked up. “Sometimes I can get some quiet here,” he said. “When Mother isn’t seeking solitude herself.”

I looked up, too, into golden leaves and dark branches. Blue, beyond. “It must be lovely in the spring.” I could imagine the trees hazed by white blossoms.

“And in the summer, when the roses are out, the scent hangs like a fog between the walls.”

He still held my hand. My nerves eased, I sidled closer to his shoulder. He smelled of sweat, under his layered woolens. “You spent the afternoon at swordplay?”

He nodded, bringing his gaze down to me. “I thought he would send for the captain, but Woden tossed me a sparring sword himself. I nearly dropped it when he chose one and stood at guard.”

“You sparred with a saint?”

Kiefan shook his head, disbelieving it himself. “I saw him spar with Captain Aleks, once. She said it was her most valuable lesson.”

“You lived to tell. You didn’t ask him to give you quarter?” I risked a smile.

A chuckle. “He gave none, that’s true. I won’t know how many bruises I have until morning, I’m sure.” He tugged out the collar of his cote to feign checking inside. “We spoke about the lamia, and he told me I was using my kir to keep their teeth off me despite the close quarters. The beginnings of a kir-shield. With training, I’ll be able to control it more.”

“We all learned something out there.” I looked up as a chilly breeze sent a few more leaves spinning from the branches and caught a wince on Kiefan’s brow. “Are you hurt? A headache?”

“A little.”

I knew what that meant. I put my hand on his fresh-shaven cheek and turned his head toward me to call his kir. It glowed in answer, revealing a few tangles on his meridian, but I got no further in checking him.

Kiefan leaned over and kissed me, wrapping me in both strong arms. Coaxed my mouth open to spar with his tongue. He left me breathing harder with my palm still on his face.

I combed my fingers over the ridges of his Blessing at the back of his neck and pulled him down for another. His arms tightened on me. His lips made their way to my throat and his tongue tracing the hollow there stabbed a shiver into my spine. My pulse surged.

With a hard breath, he buried his face against my neck and squeezed me till I squeaked. I clung to his shoulders, my feet lifted an inch off the ground. He held me warm and safe, despite the cold breeze.

“You must come to Prohzgrad with us,” he said against my neck. “Cure me with a kiss each night.”

I swallowed a sudden lump. “You’re going away?” I managed to ask through his grip.

Interview with a Prince (Disciple: Part 1 by L. Blankenship)

It's not every day my blog gets visited by royalty, but today is one such special day as I feature an exclusive interview with the Prince from L. Blankenship's Disciple: Part 1. I've been featuring a lot of books as of late, so let me give you a refresher on what Disciple is about and some hints as to how this Prince features into our heroine's story. For more on Disciple: Part 1 and the upcoming Disciple: Part 2, check out L. Blankenship's website or look for the book on sale at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Kobo among other places.

The saints favor her, else-wise a peasant girl like Kate Carpenter would never be apprenticed to the kingdom’s master healer. But her patron saint also marks her ready for the duty of tending to a mission that must cross the ice-bound mountains. Their little kingdom faces invasion by a vast empire and desperately needs allies; across the snow-filled pass, through the deathly thin air, is a country that’s held off the empire and may be willing to lend an army.

Kate knows about frostbite and the everyday injuries of wilderness travel. She can heal those.

She’s not ready for the attentions of a ne’er-do-well knight and the kingdom’s only prince, though.

And she isn’t ready for the monsters that harry them night and day, picking off their archers first, wearing the party to exhaustion, pushing Kate beyond the limits her healing abilities.

She must keep them alive, or her blood will be on the snow too.

Prince Kiefan is the only surviving son and heir of the king of Wodenberg. Like his father, he has a reputation for discipline and stern expectations -- and he has a need to prove himself, now that he's coming of age and intent on stepping out of the king's shadow. I had some questions for Prince Kiefan just before the mission left home.

L: You're an alpha male in training, and this mission is your most important command yet. Do you feel ready for this?

Kiefan: I trust the saints' judgement. Though Father and I disagreed over the cavalry charge that I led, some months ago, he cannot deny that it won the battle. And the saints have judged me fit to lead. I will not fail in my duty to them or my people. 

L: You didn't expect the master healer to send his apprentice, though.

Kiefan: No, I was told he would be with us, in this, and when he brought Kate in his stead -- but the saints affirmed her, gave her charge of our well-being. One must work with what's given. 

L: It's not because she's a girl, is it?

Kiefan: (he laughs) I squired with Captain Aleksandra. Any who dares doubt her will be put straight on the matter of a woman's strength and courage. But Kate's no disciple of the sword. She's a healer. It's clear enough this will be no easy journey across the mountains -- none have made it and returned, that any know of. It's much the saints ask of us, as it is.

L: So the problem is more that she's -- bookish?

Kiefan: Kate has never even been in the saddle before today. Surely she'll learn it, but yes, she's spent more time among books than --

L: I hear you're fond of books yourself.

Kiefan: (he fumbles for a moment) Father's seen that I've studied tactics and --

L: No, I mean those philosophy essays you've been sneaking peeks at.

Kiefan: (he frowns) Father's kept my days busy enough with serious matters.

L: There's nothing wrong with a little philosophy, surely?

Kiefan: The king of Wodenberg must be a knight, firstly. He must see to duty. We're at war.

L: Yes, it's always duty for you. Including a political marriage someday.

Kiefan: (he gets up from his seat, impatient) The privileges of the throne have their price. I've a mission to lead, if you'll -- (strides away, armor clinking)

L: You're not concerned about traveling with a cute, philosophy-reading healer?

Kiefan: (he circles back) Pardon?

L: Well, she is cute.

Kiefan: (he spreads one hand, confused) Yes, certainly she's… cute. Philosophy-reading?

L: Oh, yes. She's been reading those essays too. Her teacher might've sent some homework with her on the mission.

Kiefan: (he doesn't know what homework is, but he gets the gist.) Why should that be troublesome?

L: I'm sure it won't be, Mr. All Work And No Play.

Kiefan: Which books is Kate bringing?

L: (shooing him off.) It's not part of your duty, is it? Go, you've got a mission to lead.

Excerpt for Gritty Fantasy Romance "Disciple"

Today's Blog Tour stop is the first book in L. Blankenship's Disciple series. This book is described as a gritty fantasy romance and is soon to be followed up by Disciple Part II on April 1, 2013. I'll be hosting another stop for Disciple Part I on the 25th, so check back here for an interview with the dashing prince of this tale! Until then, be sure to check out Disciple Part I on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Kobo among other places!

The saints favor her, else-wise a peasant girl like Kate Carpenter would never be apprenticed to the kingdom’s master healer. But her patron saint also marks her ready for the duty of tending to a mission that must cross the ice-bound mountains. Their little kingdom faces invasion by a vast empire and desperately needs allies; across the snow-filled pass, through the deathly thin air, is a country that’s held off the empire and may be willing to lend an army.

Kate knows about frostbite and the everyday injuries of wilderness travel. She can heal those.

She’s not ready for the attentions of a ne’er-do-well knight and the kingdom’s only prince, though.

And she isn’t ready for the monsters that harry them night and day, picking off their archers first, wearing the party to exhaustion, pushing Kate beyond the limits her healing abilities.

She must keep them alive, or her blood will be on the snow too.

Excerpt:

Snow still fell when Ilya shook me awake in the middle of the night. The patter of flakes on the overhead tarp blended with anxious whispers and sharp coughs. A pony puffed nearby and hooves shifted.

“Ulf says stay close,” Ilya whispered in my ear. “Get the bedroll off and flat so nobody trips. Careful of Acorn, he’s right here.”

I blinked and rubbed at my eyes and a whiskery horse nose nudged my cheek. Acorn shifted away as I struggled out of my bedroll and to my feet. I put my arm over his neck for balance as I kicked the heavy blanket off and tried to spread it flat. Puck snorted, close by too.

The fire, half sheltered by our tarp lean-to, had lowered to glowing coals. Ulf and Sir Kiefan stood on the far side with their backs to it, one with bow and nocked arrow, the other with sword in hand. Kiefan asked something of the woodsman and he muttered a reply. Beyond them, the black forest waited, crusted by a layer of snow that glowed blue when moonlight fought through thin patches of the clouds. Tumbling flakes kept up a quiet patter as we all fell silent, even the ponies.

Fear drove off the lethargy of waking so late, but there was nothing to see in the clusters of squat pine trees and thickets. Ulf and Kiefan moved a few steps apart, tense and alert. I wanted to ask what was wrong.

Lantern eyes lit up beyond the fire, paced by, and vanished. A shape moved across a snow-laden pine branch. That coughing sound came again, from the moving shadow, and it was answered from behind me.

Ilya, holding Acorn’s bridle beside me, whispered, “Mother Love, we’re surrounded.”

I sidled closer to the middle of the tarp, though it meant letting go of the solid mass of the pony. Ther Boristan stood holding Puck. A few steps out from that side of the lean-to, Bjorn faced the forest with bow and arrow ready. Beyond him, another pair of eyes caught the light.

“I could stoke up the fire,” Ilya raised his voice to a murmur.

Ulf answered, as he was closest. “They’re not afraid of fire. Whatever you do, stay together. Stand and fight.”

I looked over Puck’s rump, and Sir Anders stood watch on that last side with his sword in hand. A snow-covered bush there offered a clear backdrop for the form that stalked across it. The lamia were perhaps the size of a hunting hound, if bulkier in the shoulders. Their tails ran long and hairless, and lashed like a cat’s.

I felt around in the dark mass of bedrolls and found my medicine bag. With it on, I was a little more useful. I’d taken my dagger off for the night, but I’d be little help with it.

A bit of wind drove the snowflakes in my face for a moment, then they fell back. The lamia stalked their circle around our smaller circle and coughed to each other in little patterns. Snow slowed its pace, and the moonlight strengthened. I watched along with Ulf and Ilya and Acorn, all of us shifting on our feet.

The lamia went still and silent. Ulf’s bow rose as he drew his arrow halfway.