A report on the current project: as of the moment, sitting and over 158,800 words. Progress is happening nicely.
And below is a sample of tonight's work. Enjoy.
Samara took a piece of cloth and folded it around the handle of the pot to lift it and set it aside on a piece of slate to cool. Then she lifted her face to her husband. He froze as he saw the ice in her eyes.
"Our sons are gone from us; Duncan for twelve more years, Llêw for perhaps three. My tent is empty of family, but for me and thee. And you allowed it; you even aided it. You insisted that Lorana give Duncan his clan marks, only she gave him far more than that, didn't she? What did she do to our son that you gave her nine of your prized horses for it, hmm, when one scraggly colt would surely have been enough?"
She stood and faced Nial, hands fisted on her hips. "Why did you not fight harder for Duncan? Why did you allow them to banish him? You could have swayed more of them. I know this." She paused a beat. "I know this, Nial. So tell me, now that my tent is as barren as my womb, why? What did your brother Jamesh tell you that brought you to this?"