The Patchwork Warriors # 17

The second half of Chapter 8.

Some ‘scientific talk’; more on Deya Beritt as a person and her duties, and a few more hints.

Chapter 8 is a bit of a test case for me, does this contribute to plot and characters?


Beritt didn’t take much comfort from Dekyria’s casual open-handed gesture for her to take the lead with Bleymore.

“Temporal? What’s time got to do with it?” Bleymore and Dekyria initially winced at the edge to her voice, only to notice she was intent on the oculator and not any person.

“Those faint blue outlines. If you look carefully you will see they are moving in left wards direction around the points of light,” she squinted, nodded agreement, kept quiet “A blue which does not move indicates a potential of energy not yet realsed but one shifting in a left wards indicates an irreversible future event,”

On hearing that and somewhat to Beritt’s relief Dekyria strode into the conversation.

“Pardon my presumption Master Bleymore, but I was given to believe there cannot be an irreversible future event because the future in constant prone to flux,”

“This would be true for events which are classified along the lines De’Jerns’s Categories of Import. But Themderharn pointed out a flaw in not taking into account Events Miniscule,”

“But surely those are the very ones which can unhinge any predictability?”

“Indeed. But only when aligning them with the correct Assessment of Connexion . If you place them in isolation, then because they are acting on their own; the ascribed miniscule inertia will ensure only one outcome. Thus when dealing with Ethereal matters, these events can send an echo indicating the event must and will take place. Thus this small Future in one very small unit of place and time has therefore taken place,”

Beritt experiencing a conversation which was taking place over her head in the literal and the allegorical let the pair rattle on. She’d got Bleymore relaxed, not afraid on the whatever the pretty was, and chatting away to the captain. So as far as she was concerned.

“Excuse me Captain and Master Bleymore. I think I had better make sure that Trooper Steryn’s hand is in need for no further attention.

          And to lecture the dam’ fool for trying to do fancy handspinning tricks with a halberd!

The men turned as one, at her bemusement Bleymore also said she may be excused.

Outside Beritt slumped against a wall and exhaled upwards causing her fringe to levitate, it was something of a trademark sign of relief or incredulity, she also closed her eyes and began to whisper a swift prayer of thanks; this was interrupted.


One hand on her shoulder, she started

“You’ve been invaluable medician. Bleymore is speaking sentences of sense and information. Your work with him is-“

‘Frib sake don’t say genius. Not when I’m making it up as I go along’

“True empathy with a sufferer. Well done medician. Well done,” the hand lifted and clapped down on her shoulder, which sagged a bit under the impact, she smiled, weakly “But remember. This cannot be disclosed Beritt. No part of it, to anyone, not without my say-so. Nothing Beritt,”

There was a curious pause, and then he turned, on his good leg and was off upon his own business, leaving Beritt to repeat the exhalation, and to tread wearily away to catch up on some of that day’s routine mixing of potions and salves.


The door creaked open, the resultant confusion alerted Beritt to the fact she’d fallen asleep. Eyes still mostly closed she was about to lambast Trooper Steryn for whatever he’s done to open his hand wound when widening vision recognised the freckled face of equesteria Lareh H’senez displaying an expression of sisterly concern.

“Hey Deya, shift your delicates into a proper bed,”

Beritt ploughed one hand through her fair hair and groaned, in front her were three pots still beckoning a mixing of constituents into salves, she groaned again and gestured vaguely at the work. Her fellow LifeGuard snorted derision and taking hold of one elbow began to lift her from her desk.

“High Holy Deya. One, two nights of lost sleep is one thing; when you’re getting into the realms of three and it’s not through combat, it’s injurious.! What have those Owls got you doing?

“Can’t say,” slurred Beritt vaguely aware of being escorted from her domain.

“I wouldn’t allow them to treat my darlings like that!”

“Yeh, but I’m not lucky enough to be one of your horses Lareh,”

“Two halves and one whole night away from your rickety cot is not conducive,”

Beritt whimpered in agreement. The last effort with Bleymore; she supposed she must have put too much heart into it because she’d not felt this fatigued since demands made by the Drygnest’s unforgiving landscapes of physical training. Obviously heart and soul effort was as hard as running, crawling, climbing, jumping and splashing face first into muds.

“Put me into a stable where they can’t find me,” she suggested.

By the time she formulated this plan her comrade had navigated into their dormitory, gently pushed onto her cot, which currently felt as good as any soft bed. She was aware of her boots being hauled off.

“And you get extra snoozes,” Lareh told her.

“Who promoted you to colonel Lareh?”

“Hah! I’m going to tell them you are suffering a particularly demanding salutation to the Lady Luna,”

Beritt managed to sort of sit up

“Aww c’mon Lareh. That’s embarrassing. They’ll just go on about poor wickle girlies just can’t be proper soldiers,”

She was pushed back down. Lareh looked very determined.

“Medicians may be skivvies at everyone’s beck and call. No one below the rank of a general crosses with an equesteria,”

Beritt supposed for a regiment that placed at least as much value on its horses as its soldiers that was a good point.

Shuck off her jack, shirt and trousers and slithered off back into sleep


Dekyria had become used to not needing much sleep, he did not bother to speculate on why, that sort of path could be worse than a distraction. He functioned sharply enough, but did not expect everyone else to keep up with the pace, he needed a file sharp by natural means.


There was Bleymore awake, looking fresh and in low conversation with Hartey the nightwatch. As the youngest and most enthusiastic of the file Dekyria allowed the lad some leeway in his pursuit of Astatheia knowledge. The conversation was on the evasive subject of Numbers Where There Are None and as far as Dekyria could make out Bleymore was making the most logical statements on the subject, by reference to the active oculator.

And was a shame to interrupt, but there were other matters which needed completion. They had talked late on after Beritt’s exit, Dekyria thinking that Bleymore would keep on discoursing, brought the matter in an interlude by agreeing to see Bleymore’s points and feigning fatigue. He had needed to ponder on the implications.

Voices from the future, for one thing.

“Trooper Hartley, I’ll take over thank you. One last onerous task. Stir your comrades,”

“They might spare me the usual curses Captain. There’s a lot of interest after yesterday,” the lad smiled and nodded at Bleymore, took the hint and left quickly.

“If we accept at this stage Master Bleymore that these recent manifestations have proven to be as you say. Just what would you reckon to be the cause?”

This time Bleymore did not look fearful, simply distant and thoughtful, when he spoke the words came slowly, chosen with care.

“I am not altogether sure. One aspect I did notice was there seemed to be s slight increase in the brilliance of some of the white circles, but there was no discernible pattern. We would be wise to assume the event will be in close proximity. The distance I am not too sure. As these are physically small events the range cannot be too far,”

“Do you think we could place an approximate on them,”

“It may be so. Though I concur. It would be an approximate,”

Dekyria tried to avoid a sigh of relief. He had Bleymore effectively in his file and working on something with potential import. Apocalyptical incursions from the Fourth Realm would have to wait. Good work Beritt. Very good work.

Bleymore shuffled a little and made much of looking at the oculator.

“Medician…Beritt?” the captain nodded “She’s a remarkable healer isn’t she?”

“Bears repeating,” Dekyria managed a genial smile.

Fribbing dam’ remarkable  


Normally The Helmsman did not bother much with the sky about the seas, but there was no avoiding the sudden small but very bright flare of white. So sharp. It even managed to reflect upon the sullen waters which appeared to lurch in agitation. That was new. He quietened his men. Bade them work on the delicate process of focusing. Everything had to be conducted quickly for the event was fading.

And was gone.

Of this he was sure though, there was not one source, but three revolving about each other in an agitated dance.

The Patchwork Warriors # 16


14 thoughts on “The Patchwork Warriors # 17

    1. Hi Gwin.
      Ah, it’s the eternal angst of the writer 😟; thanks for giving me a proverbial shake by the allegorical neck. 😉.
      Nice to know you enjoyed the scientific bit, making up your own science can be a bit of chore (well actually pinching bits from current scientific knowledge and theory 😉)
      Hope you are well

      Liked by 1 person

      1. LOL! It’s what I do….
        Who can argue with “made up science” as long as it’s 1) Consistent 2) Reasonably plausible; I know that sounds strange but I think you get my meaning 🙂

        Liked by 2 people

      2. Spot on Gwin!
        It’s a cardinal rule of SF & Fantasy writing, otherwise the reader looses interest. It should also be prone to breakdowns, unexpected activities and not doing what you want (Watch out for those ‘oculator’s and other ‘devices’ later on)….just like our laptops and phones. 😉

        Liked by 2 people

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