snippets

I realised that it has been a while since I offered anything from the new Orpheus. So here are a couple of snippets, including the opening scene. Enjoy :)

(Please remember that this is copyright to kvwrites, 2012 and you cannot, absolutely not at all, not even a little bit, take it from this site. Thanks!!)

Chapter 1  - Villa Orfeo

The air as we left Florence became noticeably clearer as we made our way through the gorgeous countryside. The air conditioner in the little Fiat was working overtime to keep the hot August sun from melting us. The light in the country seemed preternaturally bright, as if a giant spotlight was shining down on the fields around us. I thought of all the books and movies I had heard of about Tuscany and could now see what the attraction was. No wonder people wanted to throw away all the stress and hassle of living in the hustle and bustle of a city to come and renovate an old house in the Tuscan countryside. The air was clean and clear, and although it was hot there were pockets of shade under giant pines, ancient forests of oak trees, farm after farm of perfectly lined grape vines and little pools and ponds sparkled in the sun. The summer wildflowers were out in bloom, covering fields and lighting up the landscape.

I dared a peak at Jack Perry, driving calmly beside me. I was thankful for my dark sunglasses. Jack Perry was a renowned lawyer, an Englishman who now worked with a firm in Rome doing high profile defence cases. He had even worked with some of Silvio Berlosconi’s defence lawyers.

Jack had come up to Florence a few times to meet with me. The night before we had had too much to drink and I don’t know if it was sweltering Italian heat, or the sweltering Italian passion that infused the people around us or we were simply caught up in the moment of too much red wine and good food but something had happened.

“If I were twenty years younger,” Jack had said regretfully pulling away. “And if I didn’t know your father still had that old hunting rifle on top of his wardrobe at the house in Dorset. He does still have it doesn’t he?”

“He does.”

We had laughed.No hard feelings.

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Jack hit the accelerator and the little Fiat lurched up the hill. On the top of the hill we had an amazing view of the valley we had just come through. Old, stone homes dotted the hills around us. In front of us loomed an iron gate. All I could see past it was a long driveway. Jack got out of the car and ran to open the gate. The driveway wound its way along a little creek, through the cooling shade of acacia trees. The driveway was bumpy and uneven, after the comparatively smooth dirt road we had come from. Jack manoeuvred the car around some dangerous looking potholes. An old house suddenly appeared before us. It was gorgeous, exactly how I imagined it. It was made of stone and comprised of two stories, plus a couple of separate more modern looking buildings.

“Oh my gosh,” I exclaimed pointing, “is that a tower?” I had only just noticed the awesome turret in the center of the main house. A beautiful stained glass window sat proudly at the top of the tower; its reds and blues on fire in the hot sun. Jack pulled the car to a stop at the base of the tower.

“It’s one of the converted guest rooms.”

As we got out of the car made our way up to the house I realised that the whole property was precariously perched on the edge of a rocky cliff. Below a whole valley of yellowing grass spread before us. I gasped again. It was the most chaotic and dramatic view I had ever seen. My stomach flipped a little as I realised just how steep the drop was and just how close the main house was to the edge. I looked dubiously at Jack.

“Is this even safe?” I suddenly had thoughts of falling off the edge of the cliff and falling to a very long and painful death. Craggy rocks and prickly bushes jutted out from the cliff; I wondered if they would even find my body.

Jack laughed. “It’s been here for more than six hundred years and hasn’t fallen yet.”

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The book then went on in some detail about the history of Orpheus and his revival during the Renaissance and how this had been attributed to Figlini. Apparently it wasn’t so much the famous story of Orpheus and his beloved Eurydice, for whom he travelled to the Underworld, that fascinated Figlini, Lascaris and others like them, but the power Orpheus wielded with his music and poetry. Power that had the ability to control the planets and stars. In fact, a whole sect of followers developed during the time known as the Cult of Orpheus. This cult, very much the ideal religion that Figlini had dreamed of, was based around the use of talismans, especially those which were related to the Greek legend and his lyre.

The author even went so far as to suggest that Lascaris had built a shrine in his villa, named after the ancient Greek legend, which was a portal into the magical, musical world of Orpheus. A portal which gave the magicians the ability to tap into the power of the universe.

I chuckled quietly at this then I looked up at the beautiful old villa and despite the blistering heat, shivered. Was it me or did the villa suddenly look different? I wondered for a moment where this supposed portal could be. Perhaps it had burnt down in the fire of the 17^th century. But I knew better. If you were going to have a portal anywhere it would be in that glorious tower. Curious I got up and went inside.                                        **************************************

Would love to know what you think :) Let me know, please!!