The red-faced man had a bullwhip in his hand.

“She tied good and tight?”

“Sure is Pa, wouldn’t want her gettin’ away.”

The terrified girl heard coarse laughter, then the whistle and crack of the whiplash. The pain as it cut her skin was excruciating. 

She heard the whip crack again and again. And she heard screaming. But she felt no more pain. Who screamed? She knew not, feeling  gratitude that it was someone else under the lash, and shame for that feeling.

Gentle hands cut her down.

“We are Nemesis,” a voice whispered, “and you are safe now.”

©jj 2019

Dying to be Roman by Jane Jago and E.M. Swift-Hook is a whodunit set in a modern day Britain where the Roman Empire still rules. If you missed previous episodes you can start reading from the beginning. You can listen to this on YouTube.

The Tribune breezed into the room like a beak-nosed hurricane. She rather wished that she could see her new partner’s face when the formidable Decimus Lucius Didero lifted her in his brawny arms and kissed her on both cheeks. She wriggled and kicked and he put her down.
“Llewelyn,” he grunted, “you take care of my little foster sister.”
Dai looked as if he couldn’t think what to say. Julia was very sure this was not the way he usually saw Romans interacting. The Tribune grinned.
“She will grow on you, and she can’t help being Roman any more than you can help coming from a place where they make up songs about everything and shag sheep. Now. I’ll assign you a contubernium of praetorians.”

Julia winced inwardly knowing how that would sound to the Briton and was not surprised that Dai’s looked furious although he said nothing. Decimus smiled a wolf’s smile.
“Calm down, you and Julia will still be in command and you can keep your own posse too, if you can trust them all. It’s just that my lads can get away with doing things you and yours never could. And they don’t have to wait for anybody’s permission. I’m thinking that by the time your boss has consulted all the people who are paying her, our bird could easily have flown the coop,”
Once again, Dai kept his mouth shut and Julia could see the knowledge that Decimus was right, openly warring with his loyalty to the force to which he belonged. She gave him a sympathetic look and he actually smiled back at her, a thin smile to be sure, but definitely an upward tilt of the lips. The Tribune, who she knew would have missed nothing, grunted at them, but it wasn’t an unfriendly sound.

“Right. Listen carefully. There are some things you need to know but I’m not supposed to tell you. Privileged information, praetorian confidentiality and that kind of merda. Well I’m not having it. My little sister doesn’t go to war unprepared.” He pointed a thick finger at the pair of them. “You need to know about your corpses. Bellicus and Docca were in big trouble. They were being targeted by a betting syndicate who try to get players taking money to fix Games. And I don’t mean any of your little Londinium locals, I mean the big boys from Rome. Those people do not play nice when someone says ‘no’. They also don’t take kindly to anyone poking a nose in their affairs, no matter who it might be.

“More of a worry, though, is this Luca. He left Rome under a cloud. It was either exile or death. He chose exile. You don’t need to know precisely what he did but you do need to know that at least six very powerful families had reason to want him punished. Whether or not they succeeded at arm’s length, I don’t care to speculate. Just be aware that he was very good at making enemies. The interesting thing is he was supposed to stay in Gallia Lugdunensis where Daddy has extensive estates around the town of Lutetia, under a form of house arrest. But clearly he didn’t and I heard today his wife didn’t either. We have no idea where she is right now.”
Julia looked at her old friend.
“That explains a lot. That old cunnus Marius looked as if he was eating merda when he had me in his office and sent me on this mission. He about halfway forbade me to bring Edbert and the dogs.”
“I hope you ignored him.”
“I did.”
“Good. You’ll need them. But you will also have an apartment here. Inns are insecure at the best of times. This is starting to smell bad.”
Julia opened her mouth to object, then thought better of it. Things were indeed smelling bad. She began to formulate a thought, but before she had time to work it through, Didero turned his attention to Dai.
“You’ll move your men in here for the duration of this case.”
Again, Julia could see the flare of pride in the Briton’s blue eyes being quickly damped by rational thought. She realised, at that moment, that she was dealing with a man who lived in a steady state of war with his own passions, a very Celtic trait. Somehow that thought just made him more intriguing.
“As you will, dominus,” Dai said. “And I see that would be safer. We’ll be in the barracks?”
“They will be, yes. They can share with the men assigned to you and Julia. I’ll arrange your accommodation too.”
Dai bowed his head.
“Dominus.”

Part V will be here next Sunday. If you can’t wait to find what happens next you can snag the full novella here.

Watching is a lonely job even if what you are bound to observe is your own creation. The One sighed, gustily enough to shake mountains and topple tall trees. A solitary tear splashed continents and drowned islands, but somehow the Creator could not bring Themself to care.

The hands that once built mountains toyed idly with a length of hempen string, knitting something nameless and small.

But when They saw what Their fingers had wrought They plucked a single feather from Their wings and wove it into the waiting string.

A bright bird flew to Their shoulder.

“Pitāḥ,” it said.

©jj 2019

It’s not only when you travel in your dreams
Borne up aloft on strange, fantastic, streams
Where nothing ever is exactly as it seems
And all is gold that ever brightly gleams.

Reach for the stars and you’ll have them in your grasp
But you can not know what you seek to clasp
For each twinkled point will burn and cut and rasp
And learning that cold truth can impact so you gasp.

‘Cos oft what we need is not what we desire
Hearts are seldom ruled by dreams which inspire
Instead, tainted by greed, of what we can acquire
Not by the high ideals to which we should aspire.

So cast out your net as you glide through the stars
But keep your eyes peeled for what those really are
And know what seems beautiful and lovely from afar
Might be a nightmare that forever your life mars…

E.M. Swift-Hook

From Haruspex Trilogy Edge of Doom a Fortune’s Fools book by E.M. Swift-Hook. You can listen to this on YouTube.

Theana came through with a place to stay — Rota property, kept for use when visitors or stop-over staff needed — a lovely little apartment in an upmarket complex called Riverside. The apartment was designed for a single person with a busy life and the whole complex included its own retail and entertainment zone. Everything you might want or need was provided on the doorstep with some style and elegance. It might not be full on luxury living but it was aspirational and very comfortable. As a quiet and low-profile holiday home in the ‘City, it was pretty perfect.
Charis could stay in and enjoy the views over the river from her window, or wander out to sit on the banks in the local bar or take in a live show from the best local talent in the open-air venue in the heart of the complex. Within a couple of days, she had begun to feel relaxed. Theana was in touch every day and updating her, even if only to say there was no news. If anything bad happened to Foss, Charis was pretty sure Theana would hear about it too and let her know.
A few more days went by and she got to know a couple of the locals, who she used her ‘Charlie Sweet’ ID with and told she was on a rest break from a heavy schedule with Rota. They were good companions for her evenings and the days she spent linked out or with screens, catching up on current affairs, the latest releases and celebrity gossip. Sometimes sitting by the river or on her private balcony or, on dark days, staying in.
One evening — on a light day — she had been out to see a talented dance group with her new friends and went back with one of them for a drink and a chat. When she left to go back to her own apartment, the sun was warm and bright and she took the more scenic route along one of the higher walkways, looking down over the plaza by the river.
The ‘City had its own beauty spots and this view was one of them. The river was wide at this point and had a small chain of islets where some of the graceful bridges that linked the two halves of the metropolis, alighted briefly before taking off in curving parabolas to the other bank. Even when the walkway moved into the residential area, the river view was still there, although at times it vanished from sight behind the elegant blocks of housing.
It was because she was looking ahead to where the next view of the river would appear that she saw him — walking quite quickly and with purpose, and her heart moved from her chest into her throat. Jazatar Baldrik. She had just turned a corner, so unless he looked up and to the side he wouldn’t see her. Instinct made her keep still to avoid triggering his peripheral vision, but she comforted herself that even if he did look up he might well not know it was her. She was in shadow, so not recognisable from that distance. Her first thought was that he must be there looking for her — but that made no sense as her apartment was not even in this section of the complex — she still had a good walk to get back to it.
It was then she saw the other man. He was below her and half concealed by the walkway she was on. What made her notice him was he had just produced an energy snub. His gaze was fixed in the direction hers was, but from where he stood, lower than her, Jaz was no longer in his field of vision and the route the dark haired man was taking wouldn’t bring him back far enough out to be in this man’s range. Without even thinking about it Charis found she had her own energy snub in one hand as she watched the two men below her.
Then the situation suddenly changed. Instead of keeping along his previous route, Jaz crossed the roadway towards the service entrance of one of the residential blocks. He was still invisible to the man with the gun, but would be a perfect target once he reached the service door.
Charis felt her lungs adhere to her ribs.
This was a setup. An ambush. Or in ‘City speak  — a street drop.
There were only a couple of moments to think. She could do nothing and let whatever was going to happen go ahead. That would be the safest path. If she tried to intervene she would draw attention to herself from people she would much rather didn’t notice her. There was also the slight issue of whatever security surveillance the complex had — which was extensive. But not to act would mean letting the man Vitos held to be his closest friend most likely die.
The thought of Vitos conjured him into existence. There he was, moving along a parallel walkway where it looped ahead of her, checking the ground, covering for Jaz. But the angle of the walkway made both Vitos and the man with the gun invisible to each other for a few more vital moments.
She could do nothing, stay safe and Vitos might still see the man and act in time. Or she could place herself at risk and be sure Jaz lived.
She had her own weapon trained on the man below her. She saw him move to adjust his aim as Jaz entered his field of vision and in the same instant, she fired. The man gave a loud gasp and Charis heard the clatter as his weapon fell from his fingers. She had no idea if she had killed him or if he still lived and she had no intention of staying to find out. As soon as she had fired she had stepped back behind the corner. Vitos might have seen her, but with the concealing shadow, should not recognise her. The last thing she wanted right now was to have to explain herself to Jaz Baldrik.
Even as she was thinking through that possibility, she was walking quickly back along the walkway, acutely aware of where the security monitors might observe her. She tried to choose a path that would disguise where she had come from and then changed course a few times after that until she was as sure as she could be that no one was physically following her. Then she called up one of the mini-taxis to run her back to her own apartment block.
Her heart was still hammering when she got through the door and locked it. That was an illusion of sanctuary, of course. If she had been recognised by Vitos or if any interested parties checked the available security surveillance — well, there were too many ‘ifs’ which went against her. There was nothing she could do about any of them so she made herself a mild sedative drink and did her best to get to sleep.
She woke early and over breakfast, a local newslink arrived from the management of the complex. They wished to apologise to anyone affected by the disturbance the previous night outside the Riverwatch Heights apartments. They were still investigating what had happened but, unfortunately, the security surveillance drones and monitors for that sector of the complex had been temporarily offline due to circumstances beyond their control. Any witnesses or those who had relevant information were asked to come forward.
The impact of that was just sinking in when Theana linked her.
“Charity? Sorry to wake you so early but I just got told we are in the clear. Your friend and mine Halkom Dugsdall even came by to apologise in person, but I told him there was no need and I would pass it on to you.”
Charis felt as if she had just broken the surface having been underwater too long.

E.M. Swift-Hook.

They told him he would be a beautiful butterfly one day, but, to be brutally honest, Cedric wasn’t impressed.

“Why’d I wanna be one of them wingy things?” he mumbled. “When I got a good life here. It’s warm and bright and there is much to eat.”

A cock sparrow looked at him in some disgust.

“Don’t you want to fly?”

“Nope. Looks far too energetic.”

Cedric took another bite of deliciously green leafiness and ignored the bird’s aggravating twittering.

“Butterfly. Humph.”

Cedric never spun himself a cocoon, and never metamorphosed, living out his small life happy, fat and stripey.

©️jj 2019

I love you. But
I cringe each time you call your trousers pants
In my world pants are underwear
At which ladies should not glance

I love you. But
You eat weird orange cheese and refried beans
And cover scones with gravy
A culinary divide that means

I love you. But
Chips are chips. And a fanny’s a front bottom
And there’s many more I’m sure
So painful I’ve forgotten

I love you. But
What’s a comforter? And what’s a pacifier?
They told me you spoke English
But they were all filthy liars

I love you. But…

©️jane jago 2018

The Working Title crew bring you the exclusive opportunity to enjoy more wisdom from the mysteriously enigmatic Madam Pendulica...

You can also listen to this on YouTube.

Aries. 

Be very careful this month as there is a very real possibility of leading your followers up a blind alley and being trampled to death when they panic.

Taurus.

This is not a month for locking horns with your enemies. Better to ruminate for a while before moo-ving into the attack.

Gemini.

Be very careful when crossing roads this month. Always look both ways…

Cancer.

This month the best way to deal with almost any situation is to scuttle away. Sideways.

Leo.

The new moon will see you needing to wake up and shake your golden mane in order that nobody sees how lazy you actually are.

Virgo.

Prim your mouth and pull up your sensible panties, somebody is after your cherry. Resist at all costs

Libra.

Weigh your options carefully as this month will offer many opportunities for vacillation and the refusal to make decisions.

Scorpio.

Whatever it is you are doing now, stop it. Say sorry nicely and don’t do it again.

Sagittarius.

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune are out to get you this month. Hide.

Capricorn.

This is not a good month for giving way to your goatish sexuality. Celibate Capricorn’s will do well

Aquarius.

Drink plenty of water this month. 

Pisces.

This month you must swim with the tide. No going upstream to spawn. That way lies madness.

Madame Pendulica predicts she will return...

It came to her that she was hopelessly lost. She had managed to find a way out of the forest, but she was now beside an unfamiliar lake. There wasn’t a house in sight and neither was there any sign of a road or track.

A lesser woman might have given up there and then but she was made of stern stuff and squared her shoulders.

‘Left hand bank’ she decided.

First, her little nose caught the scent of woodsmoke, then a hint of oatmeal. She pulled her red cloak more tightly around her and hurried towards the beckoning smells…

©️jj 2019

From Dying on the Streets the 8th Dai and Julia Mystery by Jane Jago and E.M. Swift-Hook, which you can now grab on pre-order… and followers of this blog who do can claim a FREE bonus short story! Listen to this on our YouTube channel.

Spado is a common insult in Dai and Julia’s world. Means literally ‘eunuch’, metaphorically ‘stupid fool’…

        That evening when he arrived home from work, Julia thought Dai looked weary, and she guessed at a difficult case. She was about to try and pry the problem out of him when fate intervened.
       Aelwen had picked up a word to add to ‘Dada’, ‘Mama’, ‘Dog’, and ‘Uned’. When Dai bent to pick her up she held out her little arms and carolled delightedly.
       “Spado, spado, spado.”
       Julia laughed until she all but cried and Dai wasn’t much better.
       “Where did she pick up that little gem?” he asked.
       “She and Luned were out in the garden taking the air when one of the apprentice boys fell off a ladder. He wasn’t hurt, but he fell into Cookie’s herb garden and that was about the least offensive thing she called him. They all thought Aelwen asleep. But. As you can hear. And she enunciates it so clearly. Luned and Cookie are mortified.”
       She watched the tension seep out of Dai’s shoulders and felt grateful for that, deciding to leave the thumbscrews for a later occasion. Instead, she watched indulgently as Dai and his daughter lost themselves in some rough and tumble and tickles. When she judged the baby to have had sufficient excitement she held up a hand.
       “If you and your potty-mouthed daughter are quite finished, I’ll get Cookie to serve some food.”
       Dai threw Aelwen up in the air and caught her expertly. “Lead us to it.”
       As they sat down at the table, Cookie brought bowls of savoury stew, with fresh bread, yellow butter, and sharp local cheese. Once she was sure Aelwen’s portion was properly cool, Julia put the bowl in front of her and a small spoon in one chubby hand.
       “Eat monster,” she said lovingly.
       Aelwen obliged, albeit with a lot of noise and splashing.
       “Look at her,” Dai said proudly, “not quite a year old and already feeding herself.”
       “And Merch – who is kindly cleaning the floor under her high chair.”

You can pre-order Dying on the Streets and, as a follower of this blog, if you show us you have done so we will send you a free ebook of Dying to Make Music – a bonus Dai and Julia short story!