{"id":1721,"date":"2016-08-08T15:00:39","date_gmt":"2016-08-08T15:00:39","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.stoneskinpress.com\/?p=1721"},"modified":"2016-08-04T17:36:43","modified_gmt":"2016-08-04T17:36:43","slug":"swords-v-cthulhu-nathan-carson","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.stoneskinpress.com\/index.php\/swords-v-cthulhu-nathan-carson\/","title":{"rendered":"Swords v. Cthulhu Teaser: Nathan Carson"},"content":{"rendered":"
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Swords v. Cthulhu <\/em><\/a>is our newest genre-blending anthology of original fiction, and to celebrate its publication we\u2019re posting excerpts from each of the stories. Our next teaser is from Nathan Carson’s “The King of Lapland\u2019s Daughter.” His alt-history saga is set in a land at once familiar and alien, and offers no false promises of a better tomorrow for we who are doomed by birth and damned by the fates…<\/p>\n

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The elder women of Kvenland peered at King Mauno through the smoke of torchlight and veils of grey braids. Their looks were shifting: one moment stern, in the next ripe with disdain. The windblown skin around those eyes was cracked as the polished hide they wore which shone wherever two furs met and iron fastens failed. Those eyes saw a weak king planted where a strong Queen had sat a fortnight before.<\/em><\/p>\n

For his part, Mauno at least feigned ignore the body that ruled his hall. He had only collapsed into power of late, the first man to rule Kvenland in living memory. His focus was squarely on the exotic figure of the Bishop before him, garbed in cloths and markings that still felt anachronistic, even alien in the northern wastes. Henrik\u2019s words oft promised pots of gold, but there was something of the serpent in him.<\/em><\/p>\n

Mauno spoke.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cHenrik, comfort me. I cannot allow my grief to undermine our defenses any longer. My Queen was lost to us in her campaign to the North. She sought to protect our people, yet the only soul to return was a young shieldmaiden who babbled of \u2018haystacks with blades for hands.\u2019 So frozen was she to her steed that both bled out when we finally prised them apart.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

He shifted on his hardwood throne, swathed in rich brown furs. Red-jeweled rings on thick gold bands circled his fingers, which dug into the grips of his seat. Black pitch and bird bones were the only ornamentation on that throne.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cI sent our own village priest to do battle on the mere. Neither has he returned. The J\u00f6tunn are restless. They stir and stumble south and our kin are in their path. Pray tell me once more how your One God can smite them!\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

The Bishop smoothed his raiment and raised both hands, palms forward.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cYour majesty, it is no frost giant incursion. These are damned things from beneath the soil. Stay your sword. I need no army to command them back from whence they slumbered. Only provisions, an escort, and this\u2026\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

Henrik drew one hand to his neck, caressed and polished the silver cross on the end of his onyx rosary. Mauno placed a palm on the hilt of his greatsword.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cYou shall have warriors too, Henrik. This evil must be sent away. Cast it off the side of the world, and soon. I will follow if I must. Go now and Ukko be with you!\u201d Suddenly his sword slid from its sheath and aimed at the firmament.<\/em><\/p>\n

Henrik winced at the pagan blasphemy, crossed himself and stole a glance at the tiny disc of solid grey sky that beamed down from the chimney in the center of the roof above. A gust of torch smoke blotted it out; now the ceiling was nothing but rafter and shadow. The great wooden skeleton was a shelter for the surviving leadership of Kvenland. Henrik turned and exited the building\u2019s ribcage with an entourage of hefty bearded warriors, marching face first into the howling cold of morning. The ruling women watched them go, eyeing their firm and muscular legs.<\/em><\/p>\n

Mauno\u2019s gaze returned to the throng of women that flanked his court.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cIt will not do,\u201d he said. \u201cThe Bishop will fail. We need a wizard. Who among you can find one?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

There were gasps, then silence and discomfort. Eyes darted, but none made reply. Then,<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cFather, I can fetch you a wizard,\u201d said Princess Aili, stepping forward. Even in the shadows of the hall her golden hair seemed woven of summer sunlight…<\/em><\/p>\n

For the rest, get Swords v. Cthulhu <\/em>from Stone Skin Press<\/p>\n

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Nathan Carson<\/strong> is a writer and musician from Portland, Oregon. He is a founding member of the internationally touring doom metal band Witch Mountain. When not on the road, Carson\u2019s byline can be found in Willamette Week and Vice. Decades after discovering Lovecraft through the early eighties role playing game scene, he has recently sat on panels at NecronomiCon, Cthulhucon, Bizarro Con, and Living Dead Con. His weird fiction has been published by Word Horde and lauded in Rue Morgue<\/em>. A debut novella, Starr Creek<\/em>, will be published in 2016 by Lazy Fascist Press.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

Save<\/span><\/p>\n

Save<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Swords v. Cthulhu is our newest genre-blending anthology of original fiction, and to celebrate its publication we\u2019re posting excerpts from each of the stories. Our next teaser is from Nathan Carson’s “The King of Lapland\u2019s Daughter.” His alt-history saga is…<\/span><\/p>\n

Read more ›<\/a><\/div>\n

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