Here is the transcription of my most recent video blog:

(And here’s the audio on AnchorFM)

Hey friends, it’s Queen Mab, and I’m going to share with you the first chapter from my National Novel Writing Month book that I started last year. The working title is “The Three Fleas,” and it is a fantasy novel, so here goes! Hope you like it.

1.

It usually wasn’t considered a good idea to venture past the Street of the Green Lantern after midnight. Anyone doing so would be considered by most of the respectable residents of Anad Harbor to be putting themselves and their reputations at risk, which was why Andreas Kaladro made his first stop at the corner of Amber and Green Lantern.

The sound of the Three Fleas Tavern could be heard for blocks. There was one room where Dane Timara played the fiddle until the hair on his bow littered the floor and the drunken roar of singing, foot stamping, and clapping made the walls vibrate. There was another room in the back where the brass band of the Queen’s Regiment played so loud that the drunken clientele could barely form coherent thoughts, let alone allow the worries of their week to plague them. A third room was filled with players acting out a farce mocking the queen, her courtiers, and perhaps a few members of a visiting envoy who had gotten more than they bargained for when it came to the famous Anadian hospitality. Upstairs, whores led men into tiny closets to get them satisfied and on their way as quickly as possible. Their moans of pleasure could easily be heard despite the three competing musical acts on the ground floor. Drunkards stumbled into the streets, some moving as quickly as their impaired faculties would allow them to avoid being seen in such a place at such a time…and some so far gone that they stayed in the light of the amber lanterns like months circling a flame until the heavy clink of the constable’s footsteps sent them scattering.

Andreas sighed. His journey had been long, and he wished to God that this was not the destination where his business required him to stop. Nevertheless, he knew that time was of the essence. He made his way down the steps leading to the vestibule before choosing the fiddle room as the least assaulting to his senses. He sat down at the bar and made the sign for a mead, the customary drink for a weary traveler. It was no time at all before a woman appeared at his side. Andreas was quite used to this.

“Good evening,” she said.

Andreas nodded. She had an enormous pile of hair of that indeterminate color between blonde and brown piled atop her head. Her bosoms were erupting from the front of her gown, and she wore a tight black necklace against her throat. A black cord dipped below the neckline of her gown and disappeared between her bosoms. There were a few wrinkles around her eyes and her mouth; she was not a young woman. 

“You look weary,” she said. “Has it been a full day of traveling for you?”

Andreas tried to hide his irritation. “Madam, with all due respect, you’d best move along…the captain won’t pay me until we reach our home port, and I’ve nothing to pay you with this evening.”

The pile of hair tilted to one side. The bosoms rose and fell. “Well, you certainly had enough for a drink…and for that.” She motioned with her chin to the bag Andreas wore at his side. His hand shot down to protect it, and his chest burned with irritation. How did she know he had purchased his way into the guild of navigators? She must have slept with enough sailors to know the way things worked.

Andreas clenched his jaw. “Madam, you’ve no business with me.”

“That’s for me to decide,” she said, her green eyes glittering like the lanterns on the street above. “What brings you to Anad?”

As irritating as she was, perhaps she might be useful. “I’m here to speak with Aurelia Gonzaga,” Andreas said.

The woman let out a short, sharp laugh. “And what would you be wanting with the likes of her?”

Andreas paused. He wasn’t sure if it was wise to reveal to this hussy the true nature of his errand. In his experience, these women were long on curiosity and short on discretion. And yet, it was possible that he might make his way to Aurelia faster if the truth were known.

“I’ve been sent by her husband.”

The hair pile tilted again. “Madam Gonzaga is not married.”

Andreas took a sip of mead. “I was warned that many in these parts might subscribe to that particular myth, but she certainly is married, and she has been since she was fifteen years old. She may have escaped from her home and looked after herself well here in Anad…but now her husband is coming to collect his due.”

Aurelia Gonzaga was the proprietress of The Three Fleas. She arrived in Anad at age twenty with ten guineas in her pocket, and after a decade of whoring, gambling, and swindling, she had become the leader of the city’s underworld and the owner of its most notorious tavern. But under the laws of the Commonwealth of Amora, all of that belonged to her husband, who had hired Andreas to collect what was owed him. 

The hussy turned her face away from Andreas and shook her head. “You’ll never get the likes of her to pay up. Not even if there are a hundred of you.”

Andreas cocked one eyebrow and turned to look at her. “My dear – it’s only a matter of time. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I must find lodging.” Andreas got up quickly, paying no heed to the woman as he scraped the stool away from the bar. As he pondered whether to seek shelter within that same building or return to the streets to find somewhere that would not make his head throb, a strong hand grabbed his upper arm. Taken by surprise, Andreas moved to fight back, but he was clobbered over the head with a large club. The commotion in the room did not cease; such incidents were common enough at the Fleas. Andreas was dragged away by two stout, muscled guards with auburn-colored beards.

The hussy shook her head. Aurelia Gonzaga knew this sort of man: handsome, adventurous, duplicitous, and oblivious to the complexities of a border city like Anad. Melen should have known better than to send one foolish enough to make his business known immediately upon entering the most notorious establishment in the city…but Andreas hadn’t been the first, nor would he be the last, to mistake Aurelia Gonzaga for a common whore.

The sound of the horse hooves came pounding down the street. She estimated that there were at least twenty riders. A raid? How thrilling. Aurelia hated it when things got dull. She pulled the cord from between her breasts and blew three times on a small whistle. The music stopped. All of the patrons turned to look at her. “Up!” she yelled. All who couldn’t climb the stairs and lock themselves into a room hid behind the bar.

Boots stomped the floor. As she had predicted, there were about twenty of them, all in the black uniform of the King’s guard.

“Gentlemen,” she said. “I’ll ask that you wipe your feet before coming in next time.”

“Wouldn’t make any difference in a dump like this,” said the commander.

“Perhaps not, but it would set a royal example for us common folk to follow.”

The commander rolled his eyes. “That’s enough, Gonzaga. We know for a fact there’s whoring going on in this establishment, and we’re here to stop it once and for all.”

Aurelia feigned surprise. “Surely not! Why would a woman do such a thing in a city like Anad when they can join guilds and own property?”

By this time, the King’s Guard were beginning to spread out across the room, occasionally shoving patrons who had been too inebriated to make it upstairs out of the way. A few were starting for the stairs when the door burst open and the Queen’s Regiment flooded in, brass band and drums making all of the candle sconces buzz.

“Stop! In the name of the Queen!” Sir Oliver Livin, commander of the Queen’s Regiment, came bounding up to the commander of the King’s guard. He was mildly inebriated.

The King’s commander looked annoyed. “Sir, you must leave us…this establishment in flagrant violation…”

“I will have none of it!” shouted Oliver. “This tavern is respectable; you have my word. Now will you please call off your men before…”

The Queen’s Regiment band had continued playing as they filed into the room. There were enough of them now that it was impossible to make out the rest of Sir Livin’s threat over the noise. Many of the King’s Guard were covering their ears and grimacing. At last, one of the younger ones drew his sword. His commanding officer was too busy arguing with Livin and covering his ears to notice. The young man drew his sword and angled for the tuba. A bass drum quickly intercepted them. The drum head made a snapping sound as the sword pierced it. It was enough for the musicians of the Queen’s Regiment to notice. One by one, they stopped playing and turned to stare at the members of the King’s Guard.

“Sir,” said Livin to the King’s commander. “I do believe this constitutes an act of aggression on your part.”

“And what do you plan to do about it?” said the young officer who had drawn his sword.

The King’s Commander turned to the young man. “Stop at ONCE.” He turned back to Livin. “My apologies, sir – this is his first patrol.”

“I see,” said Sir Livin. “We were all young and foolish once. But I must say, it would be a shame to have to report this to the High Commissioner. Perhaps you’d best go and find yourself a true den of thieves where this lad can put his eagerness to good use; there’s nothing to see here.”

The King’s Commander set his jaw. What could be more humiliating than losing a conflict with the Queen’s Regiment because a young recruit had gotten overenthusiastic? And yet, he knew that Livin was right; his own men had been the aggressors, and the law would not look favorably upon them should Livin report the incident.

“You are correct, sir. I see there is nothing more here for us to do. But be warned: this tavern is of great concern to the King. This will not be the last time my men and I pay a visit.”

“And you will be welcome,” said Aurelia. “Perhaps next time you’ll have a drink? Ours is the finest mead in the harbor.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, madam!” said Oliver Livin. “Put liquor into these hotheads, and I’ll be spending weeks replacing drum heads!” 

The King’s commander walked up to Sir Livin until he was close enough to count every one of his abundant freckles. “I would advise you not to go any further…unless you’d like me to report YOUR men for provocation…”

The corner of Sir Livin’s mouth twitched. He knew better than to respond, but he felt proud that he’d managed to get this commander so riled up. 

The King’s commander bowed to Aurelia, and his men trooped out the door. She blew her whistle three times once again, and the customers began to stagger drunkenly out of the shadows.

“Pity there wasn’t a skirmish,” she said. It would have been excellent business to take bets on who would have won. And what’s more, it would have been fascinating to see how the conflict would play out between the king and queen…”

Hey, if you made it this far, you’re awesome. Thank you so much for taking the time to listen to the first chapter of my novel. Let me know if you liked it, and if you didn’t like it, maybe don’t tell me! (laughs) If you’d like to see more of my content, you can visit queenmabmusic.com. Don’t forget to like, comment, and subscribe, and I’ll see you next time. Bye!

Opening Chapter: The Three Fleas

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