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CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
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Of Frost and Fire CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
In another place, within the walls of the palace, the king was sitting on his huge bed, and around him were many concubines, for his bed was large enough to fit nine people, together. His hand was around a glass of red wine, which he began to mix with honey with his index finger. His long blond hair was gathered in the form of a ponytail at the lower part of his head, and he was trying to look as though he were thinking excessively on what Lord James had just said about his younger brother, PRince Alexander, instead of what he was truly thinking of, which were ladies, of course. He would have been having so much fun, right now, with the those ladies he spent the night with, if it were not for the duke and his friends who chose to cut his fun, earlier this morning than ever before. He was trying not to appear upset, because it was not in his nature to leave girls without fun."King Oliver, Prince Alexander is rather mature now..don't you think his marriage is inevitable?" Asked the duke
Of Frost and Fire CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
Crazed PassionOutline/ Synopsis'"He grabbed a glass of red wine and poured it all over her naked body. She wiped her face and before she regained her vision from the burning liquor, he poured another glass inside her mouth this time, and forced her to swallow it whole and all at once, until she almost choked, and no matter how hard she tried to push his large hands away, he didn't budge an inch.He removed his hand at last, and she began to cough hard. Then she sat on the floor, gasping for air. He kneeled down in front of her on his knees and asked, staring at her coldly: "Do you know the kind of people of whom wine is poured on them?" To his question, she shook her head."They are the same ones I like to sample-- to lick their neck, and whole body with the tip of my tongue, where the smell of wine is strongest, and where it is most red and vibrant.""Damn you, and damn the day I met you," she whispered with malice, as he pushed her silky long black hair away from her face, and cam
Of Frost and Fire CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR
PROLOGUEThe distance between their bodies was very close as he held her in his big arms in the small shoe closet, rocking her back and forth like a little child.She could feel the beads of sweat running down her face, smudging the makeup Laura had spent all afternoon perfecting for tonight's Gala. It seemed, at that moment, not only her makeup, and the Gala were ruined, but them, too. Everything was ruined.There was a knot in Amelia's stomach that she couldn't shake loose, and her heart was beating against her rib cage furiously. Something very bad was going to happen and she didn't think she'd be able to stomach, nor bear, the consequences.The time has finally come: they were doomed.She knew he wouldn't like it, but she was scared, very scared.Scared for him. Scared of what would become of him. She could feel his stare on the back of her bead, urging her to look around; to meet his gaze.But she couldn't. She couldn't risk looking at him-- into his striking eyes-- and not bur
Of Frost and Fire CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE
It was the jackal—Tabaqui, the Dish-licker—and the wolves of India despise Tabaqui because he runs about making mischief, and telling tales, and eating rags and pieces of leather from the village rubbish-heaps. But they are afraid of him too, because Tabaqui, more than anyone else in the jungle, is apt to go mad, and then he forgets that he was ever afraid of anyone, and runs through the forest biting everything in his way. Even the tiger runs and hides when little Tabaqui goes mad, for madness is the most disgraceful thing that can overtake a wild creature. We call it hydrophobia, but they call it dewanee—the madness—and run.“Enter, then, and look,” said Father Wolf stiffly, “but there is no food here.”“For a wolf, no,” said Tabaqui, “but for so mean a person as myself a dry bone is a good feast. Who are we, the Gidur-log [the jackal people], to pick and choose?” He scuttled to the back of the cave, where he found the bone of a buck with some meat on it, and sat cracking the end mer
Of Frost and Fire CHAPTER THIRTY SIX
Towards the completion of the mobilization of the 29th Division in the Leamington area in early 1915, I heard secretly that the Division was bound for the Dardanelles at an early date, instead of for France as we had at first expected. By this I knew that in all probability the Division was destined to play a most romantic part in the Great War. I had visions of trekking up the Gallipoli Peninsula with the Navy bombarding a way for us up the Straits and along the coast-line of the Sea of Marmora,[6] until after a brief campaign we entered triumphantly Constantinople, there to meet the Russian Army, which would link up with ourselves to form part of a great chain encircling and throttling the Central Empires. I sailed from England on March 20, 1915, firmly convinced that my vision would actually come true and that some time in 1915 the paper-boys would be singing out in the streets of London: “Fall of Constantinople—British link hands with the Russians”; and I am sure that all who knew
Of Frost and Fire CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN
The nature of the meteorological observations made by a traveller or by a resident in regions where there is no organised meteorological service will necessarily depend on the object which he has in view, the time he is able to devote to meteorological work, his knowledge of meteorology as a science, and his interest in it.Of the many ways in which a traveller may add to the knowledge of atmospheric conditions, five may be specially mentioned:—1. A record of the weather, observed day by day with regard both to non-instrumental observations and the readings of instruments. This may be taken as the minimum incumbent on all travellers.2. Observations for forecasting the weather and obtaining warning of storms. This is sometimes of vital importance; it is always valuable at the time, and occasionally the results are worth recording. It may, however be looked upon as a practical application of the systematic observations.[2]3. Observations with a view to determining the character of th
Of Frost and Fire CHAPTER THIRTY Eight
For the most wild, yet most homely narrative which I am about to pen, I neither expect nor solicit belief. Mad indeed would I be to expect it, in a case where my very senses reject their own evidence. Yet, mad am I not—and very surely do I not dream. But to-morrow I die, and to-day I would unburden my soul. My immediate purpose is to place before the world, plainly, succinctly and without comment a series of mere household events. In their consequences, these events have terrified—have tortured—have destroyed me. Yet I will not attempt to expound them. To me they have presented little but horror, to many they will seem less terrible than baroques. Hereafter, perhaps, some intellect may be found which will reduce my phantasm to the commonplace—some intellect more{8} calm, more logical, and far less excitable than my own, which will perceive in the circumstances I detail with awe nothing more than an ordinary succession of very natural causes and effects.From my infancy I was noted for
Of Frost and Fire CHAPTER THIRTY NINE
Leaning from his saddle, Joe Marshall looked into the cup that hung on the turpentine-tree. One side of the great long-leaf pine had been stripped of its bark to a height of three feet, leaving a tall, livid scar, sticky with resinous exudation. A thick layer of hardened gum crusted over its lower edge, and two tin gutters near the top carried the gummy oozings into the two-quart tin cup suspended from a hook driven into the tree. It was only March, but the weather had been unusually warm, and the gum was running in thin viscous threads imperceptibly slow, but the cup was half full of the sticky whitish mass.“I declare, we can begin dipping soon!” Joe said to himself, glancing around at the other pines, which were all similarly blazed and tapped.This was the best corner of the Burnam turpentine “orchard.” The trees that grew here were splendid long-leaf pines, shooting up straight as arrows almost a hundred feet before they broke into palm-like branches; and many of them were so larg
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- Of Frost and Fire CHAPTER NINE
- Of Frost and Fire CHAPTER SIXTY FIVE
- Of Frost and Fire CHAPTER SIXTY FOUR
- Of Frost and Fire CHAPTER SIXTY THREE
- Of Frost and Fire CHAPTER SIXTY TWO
- Of Frost and Fire CHAPTER SIXTY ONE
- Of Frost and Fire CHAPTER SIXTY
- Of Frost and Fire CHAPTER FIFTY NINE
- Of Frost and Fire CHAPTER FIFTY EIGHT
