Prequel not Sequel

     Thirty thousand words into the sequel of Mercenary, I realised the direction the novel was going in was not quite the same as that of the previous novel. Captive, set a few years after the first, does continue the underlying themes, but takes place in a whole new setting.

     Mercenary though heavily billed as a medieval novel, really takes place at the very end of the late middle ages, during the renaissance period. I therefore like to think of it as a late great tale of medieval chivalry, that is losing its way in a modern world.

     The two sequels that I had planned for Mercenary will be written and will be published. But as they take place in the early modern, and I say that lightly because the exact years in which these time periods pass over is very ambiguous. Though it is generally considered to be during the age of discovery and that of a young fellow named Christopher Columbus, who is mentioned in my book. 

     For this reason, I have decided to begin work on a prequel, which is already well underway. I had always intended to write my series the 'Longsword Saga' in reverse chronology. Taking place at different intervals during the three hundred year feud between the Longswords and the Ashbournes. I intend to do this in three book blasts or trilogies, with the odd stand alone novel in between.

     I am really keen to explore this feud more, to find out it's secrets, when did it begin and why? Along the way we will discover Richard's ancestors and delve deeper into the grit of the high middle ages, when medievalism was at his peak.

     Having done a lot of research on the local area I am inspired to include several historic sites from the county of Hertfordshire. If you keep up to date on Facebook and my blog, you will be able to view photos on my live diary and articles on the sites themselves.

     In the meantime, I'll leave you with this:

     'The crown outlawed him, the church condemned him and all for the love of a woman. I beseech you, why is it dark hearts such as yours should rise to power, when good men must falter in your wake? Tell me, or by the blood of christ, I hope you burn in hell. Where is Stephen?'

     The old man looked pale, as though a curse were upon him. 'I cannot tell you,' he whispered. 'He has not been seen since that frightful day in Langley. But I can tell you this, something changed in him, something fierce. He is no longer the boy we remember. I cannot tell you why, all I know is this. That on that day... A heretic was born!'