i'd like to imagine if given the chance

you would spend the rest of your life with me

sitting on the edge of Saturns rings.

our feet dangling off the edge.

for you're already the stars in my eyes.

you're the moon that sways the tides of my mind.

you're the sun that illuminates my smile.

i wish to share the infinite universe with you.

and if these daydreams seen too unrealistic,

and your hands never reach out to envelope my heart like I have to you,

i only ask you allow me to look into your eyes and learn from your words;

for your wisdom is boundless and infinite.

it is the closest thing to space I could ever experience on earth.

“Do you trust your friend?” Eleanor broke the silence softly to Gabriel. “Is he a fair man?”

“Why do you ask?” was all he said.

“I have been listening to him talk to my soldiers and I am in fear of my life. They wish to kill me tonight, I gather,” she spoke lowly to not gather attention to their conversation. The men laughed loudly ahead. “I do not wish to die.”

Gabriel thought silently and said nothing. She awaited a response from him that never came. The afternoon was waning, and he sorted through his logic and morality on the situation.

Of course Craven would convince the soldiers that they should kill the Queen, abandon the cause and go back to the South, while Craven took the gold all for himself and whatever he could carry and abandon his duty. This also called to question whether Craven meant to kill Gabriel during the scuffle to leave with a clean conscience, which would logically be the easiest solution to all of Craven's problems. Gabriel was suddenly angry, but he knew that when the time came, he would be the only one to save the Queen and restore honor to the North. Unfortunately, this also meant the odds were four to one, and that didn't look good for him either.

“Boy!” Craven called to him. “Set up the camp and make some dinner for us soldiers, would you? We're going to go scout the trail a ways and make sure there's not mischief about.”

Gabriel unloaded the tents and began to set up the Queen's first. He wracked his brain trying to figure out when and how they could escape. Queen Eleanor sat on a log near him and stared at him, wringing her hands.

“Do you think I can outrun them?” she asked.

“No,” he said flatly.

She looked at the ground defeatedly. “I suppose the Gods will it to be my time. Maybe this is how my father gains total victory, in the hills and in secret. I will perish and he will soon follow me peacefully but with no resolution. What will become of our people? Will they continue a war after we're gone in the name of two people who refused to be family?” she thought aloud. “I want peace for all of us, not just for his conscience.”

Gabriel built a fire and began cooking a lamb stew. He gathered wood and made the camp in good order. His father had taught him that even though the mind can be occupied, the hands need not be idle. He had resolved to save the Queen. He had resolved to kill the others if he had to. He would be tired afterwards, so at least the food was made and the camp was suitable.

After a few hours, the sun had set and the others returned. They all gathered around the fire and ate greedily. The Queen ate nothing but stared into the night-cloaked forest, presumably reasoning herself out of escape.

“Boy,” Craven growled through mouthfuls of stew. “You did good today. Go gather more wood before bed.”

The Queen's eyes looked at Gabriel with a deep resignation. It was time. When he left for firewood they would slaughter her and not lose sleep from it. He forced himself to leave through the bushes and hide and wait for them to act.

Gabriel climbed into a tree less than 30 steps from camp to observe how it would be done. Craven was cruel. The soldiers were acting in fear of their own lives at this point. He did not blame them. The mettle of men is tested in the face of death, his father had said.

“Go find the little twat and kill him,” said Craven to one of the soldiers as he finished eating.

The soldier stood and entered the woods where Gabriel had been with his knife drawn out to slit the boy's throat. Gabriel watched the man walk directly underneath him, searching the dark and listening for him. Gabriel dropped out of the branches and onto the man, drawing his own knife and stabbing him in the neck through to the hilt. The soldier made a terrible gurgling sound as the knife stuck out of his neck, blood gushing like black tar over his cloak. He fell to the ground and ceased to move. Gabriel took the man's longsword and drew his own knife back from the man's throat.

He had just killed a man. All of this time at war and he'd never done it before. Now it was done, and it didn't feel as terrible as they made it sound in church.

Suddenly, he heard a woman shriek. The Queen!

Gabriel rushed back quietly, hidden in the dark forest around the camp. One of the soldiers restrained the Queen and held her left hand down stretched across one of the crates. The last of the soldiers lay on the ground dead. He had probably had a change of heart and tried to save her. Craven was standing over her with his pocketknife waving menacingly.

“Now, the time has come for us to get what is owed to us, lady,” Craven said and traced the blade along her hand. “These rings are beautiful, aren't they? And such fine fingers they rest upon.” He tapped on her chastity ring with the blade. “I want this one first. Take it off.”

Her eyes widened with fear. “That ring was given to me when I took my chastity oath during my coronation. It has not moved for twenty years. It won't come off.”

Craven shrugged nonchalantly and swiftly cut off her finger. She let out a blood chilling scream and the soldier held her still. Gabriel gasped and held his hand over his mouth to silence himself. He had to figure out how to better the odds before he could save her.

Gabriel looked at his knife, still covered in the other man's blood. Something in him ran cool and calm when he remembered throwing knives with his father when he was young. He could kill one of them from a distance and then she could escape. He took aim at Craven as he had a clear shot while the greedy old man carved the Queen's dismembered finger from inside the ring.

Gabriel took a deep breath and threw the knife. He could hear it swishing through the air, and apparently, so did Craven. He turned in time to face the knife as it cleft into his chest with a thud.

“Shit!” he snarled and fell backwards against a tree with the force of the throw. Gabriel rushed through the woods in anger and sliced the old man's skull in two with the sword before another word was spoken.

He then pointed the sword at the man who was holding the Queen, now not as tightly as before. “Hands off her.”

The soldier threw her down and drew his own sword. “I've eaten shits like you for breakfast. Come on with it, boy.”

Gabriel had never had to sword-fight outside of training before, but his brain was a melee of anger and fear and he charged the man with expert stancing, circling him like a hungry shark. The power of each blow forced the soldier down and back until he was nearly on his knees being beaten down by Gabriel.

“I yield! I yield!” the soldier said, hoping the assault would cease and lowering his guarding arm.

“Not today,” Gabriel said, kicking the soldier to the ground and driving his sword into the man's eye and through his brain. The man seized then fell still.

Title: The Southern Queen

Genre: Historic Fiction/Fantasy

Age Range: Young Adult to Adult

Word Count of Selection:

Word Count of Total Work as of 6/27: 16,269

Author: Kaley Keane

Fit: The Southern Queen is a great fit for any publishing house because it feeds off of the fantasy mania that has captivated historical fiction readers with the introduction to such works as The Mists of Avalon and A Game of Thrones, though the focus is more on the humanity of the characters instead of the supernatural aspects of their stories.  I have created a strong group of characters who have struggles that are easy for readers to identify with.

Hook: Gabriel, a poor trapper's son, finds himself thrust into the middle of the reunification of the two kingdoms that have been at war since before his birth.  With his help, the Southern Queen gives purpose and prosperity to a people who have never known true peace.  

Synopsis:  After abandoning his post to guard the coast, Gabriel leads Queen Eleanor through the treacherous road to the citadel.  They are met with her father, King Alimond, who is the Queen's sworn enemy.  A treaty is made as King Alimond confesses that he is dying.  The Queen and Gabriel return to her palace to prepare for unification of the two lands upon her father's death.  A plot to assassinate Queen Eleanor is exposed in court, and Gabriel is accused.  The morning of Gabriel's execution, his only option is to escape in order to save her from her own terrible mistake.

My Bio:  I'm not very interesting myself.

Platform: Making social impact with unlikely characters who are relatable in order to include demographics that may be underrepresented in literature while telling entertaining, moving stories

Education: Currently attending Northern Arizona University after quite a long sabbatical following high school

Experience: One short science fiction story, one science fiction novelette, one young adult/female-centric novelette all self published on Amazon

Personality/style: Some humor but motivated by emotion and an elevated timbre of prose

Hobbies: I write, read, make music, and I am learning to walk again after foot surgery.

Hometown:  Yuma, AZ now living in Kingman, AZ but moving to Flagstaff, AZ in August of 2017

Age: 29

First Nine Pages

He woke up with another erection. Every morning it was so. A strong erection, it made him breathe heavy. He sat up on his bed of dried grass with a great yawn and cloudy eyes. He could not see much in the darkness of his compartment. He groped to find his two rock stones and ignited a small fire on a calabash filled with dried grass. That was his source of light. As his compartment lightened, he could not stop staring at his erection. He looked up to one of the stalactites on his roof. It also stood erect like his little man. It took a while before his little man rested and his breath calmed. He wondered why it was so. Is it because he always dreamt of the mermaid girl? He was attracted to her for unknown reasons. It was as if a force always dragged him to her. Maybe because she was the only girl he had ever set his eyes on.

On that morning as Aru strolled, he saw her from a distance. She was like a portrait — the painted picture of a beautiful face hidden among green leaves. With his hands, he brushed aside the tall green leaves that obstructed his view. He walked down the slopes of a bushy ground towards the river. She seated on bare ground by the bank of the river. Her knees were wide but her feet crossed each other. Her hairs were quite long, but the strands had only covered one of her breasts. Her skin was dark and shiny as if she just applied oil. Aru looked at her with lust, except he did not know what it meant to be lustful. In particular, he could not take his eyes of her nipple. He walked towards her and his little man erected again. He did not notice. He had a strong gaze fixed on her. Just when he took few steps closer to her, she saw him and dived into the river in a rush. It was not the first time it had happened — Aru always felt gutted whenever she dived into the river. His face squeezed with a frown.

Something felt heavy between his thighs. The cool breeze from the river might have alerted him to it. He looked down to notice his erection. It made him restless in wonder, why the mermaid stirred such feeling. He looked into the river and there was no sight of her but disappearing ripples. He walked to the exact spot she sat and seated. He tried to mimic the posture she took but his erection was distracting. He preferred to squat, his arms crossing on his knees. He looked at his little man again. His baggy girdle made of bark cloth could not constrain it much. He passed his hand into the girdle and held it as he would a cucumber. He pressed it down but it sprang back up. He was having a strong sexual desire, except he did not know what a sexual desire was. He looked into the river again; he had a faint sight of her face. She stared back at him. He at once removed his hands from his girdle.

He stood at once, his face was straight, and it spelt determination. This time around, he felt he was going to see to the end of it. He was not going to walk away like before anytime the mermaid dived into the river. He shook his body and took deep breaths. He jumped into the river to search for her. He saw her tail deep in the water. It was coloured in stripes of blue and silver, easy for him to spot. When he swam deep to reach to it he found himself in bubbles. The water made bubbles. The bubbles soon integrated into many hands. These hands held Aru tight all over his body and a strange force pushed him out of the river.

Aru landed on dry land with a broken wrist and bruised body. His mouth widened. Fear took control of him; he ran away the fastest he could. As he ran up the slopes, it felt like he climbed a mountain and like the bushes restrained him. Having reached few meters away, a place of safety, he relaxed his mind. However, his face frowned. He held his broken left wrist by his right palm. Without a guess, anyone who saw his face would know he was in pain. The broken wrist was not all of the pain, more came from his bruises — the whole of his left arm. The bruises left red-coloured patches on his yellow skin. The bruised pain was like that of an insect bite. The total sum of all his bruises, however, amounted to greater pain. He walked away from there.

Always like a lost soul, the way he walked through the thick deep forest of No-man’s-land. If only he knew, he was lost for certain, not in the forest per se, but in his mind, in his thoughts. The pain he felt, was his only consciousness. His elbows did the secondary job of clinching tight to his ribs, as his hands were not free. His caution was to prevent the shrubs of the forest from touching his bruises. He looked down on his bare chest. The goose pimples he saw made him wish he had one of his chest garments.

Aru was young, but his mind wandered like that of a philosopher. He could not understand what happened to him at the river. Life, he tried to understand but made some sense of it. His own life, however, he never could understand. He was worst than a chimpanzee caged in a zoo. The chimpanzee is caged in body but for Aru, it was his mind. The answers he sought were caged.

He lived the daily life of visiting the river, walking through the same forest, caressing the tree, rolling on a grass field, lost in thoughts and fond of nature. Nevertheless, it was going to change; he was not going to go back to that river after what had happened to him.

He stepped on some broken shells. The thickness of the grass must have covered it that he had not noticed. He was not interested in knowing the animal that cracked out of the shell. The cracking sound was not enough to bring him back to consciousness. It rather deepened his thoughts. An animal had broken out of a shell into a world.

He stared straight into the sky as he walked. His pain had reduced then. There was the world out there, a world far away from the tree and bush laden forest, but he had never been to it. He had never heard of one, except in bits and pieces. These bits and pieces, he overheard from Boco and Hunchback.

Boco was his father. Hunchback was just a servant. Boco took Hunchback as a child. Boco was in his 80s when he took him. Hunchback had turned 90 and died, but Boco was still in his 80s. Though dead, Hunchback lived. He was a living-dead. Boco more often than not gave Hunchback a time bound life of a year or few months or as he deemed. Hunchback never had a name. As his name implied, Hunchback had a hunched back. Boco called him “Hunchback” just according to his deformity. It was just the three of them isolated in No-man’s-land forest, in a world of their own.

Of the three of them, Aru was the timid one, like a bird in a cage awaiting its freedom to uncover the world. Curiosity and uneasiness were the strands that made his eyelids. He had little talking to do, always quiet, though it might not have reflected his true personality. Sometimes he imagined a life out of the forest, with much more humans like him. However, his imagination fed him nothing but only a picture glimpse of descriptions Hunchback had given. For all the growing years of Aru’s life, he had questions unanswered. Questions like who his mother was? What were her looks like? What a life outside a cave — and outside the forest — was like?

The cave was just another isolation of the already isolated forest. The cave was his home, where he slept and ate. Outside the cave lay a pathway of well-trimmed grass. On either side of the cave were beautiful yellow flowers. It was a big cave with many compartments. It accommodated Aru, Boco and Hunchback well. He stood before the underground entrance of mighty brown rocks. There he had a deep breath as he walked in from his morning stroll. On seeing Boco, he greeted.

“Good morning father.”

“Good morning,” Boco replied with a stern look.

Boco seated on a large chair made of rock. He carved stones to make a chair fit for a king. If he could think of a greater way to make a different chair befitting more than a king he would have done so. He would have lifted the rocky chair high but the cave’s ceiling limited that thought. His seat faced the entrance of the cave as any who entered the cave would face him. He seated like a king in an empty throne. His throne was beyond doubt empty except for his rocky seat that occupied only a limited space. The cave was dark but the darkness is only noticed when Boco shuts his eyes. The light that illuminates from his eyes makes the cave look like daytime even in the deepest of the night.

Sometimes greetings were just the words exchanged between father and son for a whole day. It was sure a boring life, except none, complained. Soon Boco’s breathing was heavy; he looked over himself. He knew something was wrong with him. When he gave a closer look to Aru, his eyes and mouth widened. His lips, then, closed like a lid over a container and he covered his eyes with his left hand. Inside the cave then, turned dark. With his other hand, he hit the arm of his rocky seat with a clenched fist. Particles of rock fell to the ground and then a new rectangular rock large enough to hide Aru from his sight sprouted from the ground.

Aru looked onto the ceiling of the cave with his lower arm protecting his face to be sure a big rock break was not falling on his head. More, in particular, he looked up to the cave ceiling to watch out for any falling stalactite. With the sudden darkness, however, he could see nothing.

“What is it father?” as he wondered why Boco was in a panic.

“Be gone!”

The cave yet again shook by a thunderous voice.

Aru shrugged his shoulder to Boco’s charging and kept his distance from Boco. Though the cave became dark, Aru was used to groping his way at such times. The darkness did not prevent him from noticing the large rectangular rock before him. As he walked, the rectangular rock slid to cover whatever distances would make Aru visible to Boco. Yet Aru could still see him. Why is he covering his nose and eyes, Aru wondered at the strange act. Aru was cautious with his steps. Though he was used his steps around the cave even in darkness. He made sure to keep on the path and not hurt his foot stepping or bumping on a stalagmite.

He went into a little compartment that was his own room. The compartment was at a distant left-end on the wall of the cave about 100 feet away from where Boco seated. The entrance to Aru’s compartment was only but four feet in length. Aru, being tall, always had to go low and roll himself over on the ground to get in. Once he was in, he enjoyed almost fifteen feet of length within. The ceiling of his compartment had stalactite as decorations. Aru lay on his dried grass bed and looked at the stalactites with worry that one of them may fall.

All Aru heard was the echo of voices. “. . . See that all his bruises are dressed! . . . Don’t want to see any blood . . . not on the walls or the ground, anywhere! . . . That he is never with any injury again.”

“Yes, Master.”

The cave shook like a mini-earthquake, particles of rock fell, one in due course hitting Aru on the head. “Ouch,” he said, feeling an additional pain to his bruises and his broken wrist. “Whew,” to a relief that at least it was not a stalactite that fell.

After hearing the echoing warnings, Aru ceased to worry; he felt Boco was hemophobic and only cared for him.

Hunchback, however, knew otherwise. His wrinkled old face disguised the mumblings he made as he walked towards Aru’s compartment to see the bruises that so mattered. “I wonder how I shoul’ still take care of a 20-year-old. Why try brin’ing down the cave because yo’ saw mere bruises? . . . yes, his blood is poisonous and can kill yo’ . . . but they’re just bruises.”

“Be guided! I can hear you,” Boco said in a loud voice, not loud enough though to cause any rock particles to fall.

Hunchback stopped his walk to get control of himself. He took deep breaths to maintain a calm state of mind. Be careful he hears yo’; he reads yo’r thoughts think nothing . . . think nothing. He then continued his walk again and was before Aru’s compartment. “Come out boy! Let’s see yo’r woun’ and dress it . . . yo’r father is angry.” He despised the fact he could not walk into the compartment Aru used as a room. I won’er, of all places in the cave this boy chooses the one without an entrance. He looked at the only way in just above his knee as Aru crawled out of it. I woul’n’t blame yo’ though who doesn’t want privacy from Master, Ooohhh . . . be careful be careful, he reads yo’r thoughts. He squeezed his face.

For two days, Boco vacated his seat. Seating there would mean he would see Aru whenever he passed. He went into solitude in his own private compartment not to come out until he was sure Aru’s bruises almost healed. He paced back and forth the compartment almost not noticing two days had gone by. His compartment was almost an empty room with no entrance or exit. The sidewalls of the compartment only did the job of letting him know when he got to one end and was due to turn and walk to the other end. “I have to come up with a plan . . . how best I can use this boy to get my revenge?” He said to himself. He then stopped pacing back and forth. He stood on one spot, his right foot in the constant tapping of the ground. “This is why I raised him . . . to plot my revenge against my brother and sister.”

Then there was some sound in the cave. It was the movement of his rocky seat. The seat passed through the wall, into the compartment he was. It was as if the wall was no wall but just an ordinary air. He sat tilting towards his left. His left elbow was on the armrest, his thumb under his jaw and his forefinger resting on the left side of his nose. With Aru trained as a fighter, I can charge a multitude of warriors, gods and demigods that would be loyal to me and defeat my brother and sister. Aru is the only way out for me . . . Without Aru I can do nothing, Boco thought.

Another two days when Aru’s bruises healed, Boco resumed his proper position facing the entrance of the cave. He had called on Aru.

“Yes father,” Aru stood before him and answered, anxious and eager to what Boco was going to say to him. Aru felt certain it would have to be about the last encounter they both had.

His eyes closed at first; it revealed the darkness of the cave. On hearing Aru’s voice, he opened them and the cave lightened. He looked into Aru’s eyes and what he saw was suspense. The look and the identified suspense were of less importance. The more important look, which he then made, was of Aru’s arm. He needed to be sure that the bruises that scared him had healed. They had healed; otherwise, he would have felt sick again. He then spoke to Aru.

“Now listen . . . you are a man now and the world out there is dangerous, you need to learn how to defend yourself,” Boco said.

I knew it, Aru rolled his eyes in his thoughts. He thinks I am weak because of my minor injuries. “I am sure if I have some of your powers I will be able to do so,” replied Aru. Whatever that is in that river would not have just thrown me away. He looked down, his eyes gazing at his feet, not sure of how Boco will react to his response.

“No! Now listen . . . what I mean is a physical strength not the kind of power I have.”

“Yes, father!”

Boco then jerked his fingers forward.

Aru grunted and walked away. He went out of the cave.

The flowers outside were messed up but still beautiful. Aru made a mess of them kicking it with his legs and squeezing them out of their stems. Aru littered the pathway with the beautiful flowers. The flowers paid the price for Aru’s frustration. “Now listen, now listen . . . ,” Aru mumbled making a mimic of his source of frustration. In his mind were flashes of how the force in the river cast him out. If only I had some powers, he whined in thought.

Boco had many supernatural powers, but Aru was without any such power. It annoyed him that Boco instead of giving him few of such powers, only suggested that he learned how to fight. It was yet among many other unanswered questions he had. If Boco was his father, why had he not inherited any of his powers? If Boco could give him some powers, why would he then be stingy to his own son?

Boco never in reality helped. He never answered any of Aru’s questions. Aru always acted according to instructions. Boco raised him so.

Boco had asked Hunchback to go into any of the villages from far away land and find a man of strength that could train Aru to fight.

They were so many men of strength across different villages. None of them would come on free will to the forest of No-man’s-land just to teach someone how to fight. Deceit was the only way Hunchback fathomed would bring a man of strength to No-man’s-land. Across all the villages in the faraway land, Hunchback found Odum gullible.

Odum was a brave warrior from Akanna village. He was known for quick temper and stammering. He was easy to provoke. Hence, for Hunchback, provocation was the key to getting him to No-man’s-land.