All posts by V.M.Sang

I was born and educated in the north west of England. I trained as a teacher in Manchester and taught in Salford, Lancashire, Hampshire and Croydon. I write fantasy novels currently. I also make cards, knit, crochet, tat, do cross stitch and paint. I enjoy walking on the Downs, cycling and kayaking. I do not enjoy housework, but like cooking.

Halloween Poetry 2

There were several festivals that were held by the ancient pagan Celts, one of which was Samhain (pronounced Sowain). In order to wean them away from their pagan worship, Pope Gregory III, in the 8th Century, established November 1st, which had been the pagan New Year, as All Saints’ Day, and November 2nd as All Souls’ Day (all those Christians who had died unknown).

Thus there was a link to Samhain because it was thought by the pagan people that the dead could return to their old homes to visit their descendants. Sometimes an extra place was set at the table and food left for them.

They also believed that devils, demons and the like could also come, and so they lit bonfires to scare them away. (UK residents note that we have a remnant of those bonfires on November 5th.)

This poem references the thought that our dead loved ones can visit us on this night.

This poem refers to my father who died when I was just three years old.

A Father’s Hallowe’en message.

I Died.
I didn’t want to go.
I left my wife and daughter so
I cried.

I thought
I could no longer see
All their future without me.
I fought.

I found
That each All Hallows Eve,
I could return—I need not grieve.
Not bound.

I come
To them each Hallowe’en.
They do not know. I am not seen.
I’m dumb.

They live
And I surround them both
With all my love. I am not loath
To give.

Here ends my tale.
I will be filled with endless glee
When they come to dwell with me
Beyond the veil.

Halloween Week. Day 1

As it’s Halloween week, I thought I’d post a few of my Halloween poems. I’m going to post one each day until Halloween itself.

In the Haunted House

The wind it blows cold.
Like ice down my back.
I try to be bold, 
But courage I lack.
In the haunted house.

It seemed such a lark
When we set off tonight.
But now it’s gone dark
And we shiver with fright
In the haunted house.

Jane said. ‘We’ll have fun
On Hallowe’en night.’
But when slow footsteps come
She screams out in fright
In the haunted house.

‘Let’s take candles,’ said Pete.
‘More authentic for light. 
And something to eat
If we’re staying all night
In the haunted house.’

Jack thinks it’s a game
Till the candles blow out.
Not one single flame.
He gave a loud shout
In the haunted house.

The temperature sinks.
‘That means ghosts are here,’
Said Pete, who still thinks
There’s nothing to fear
In the haunted house.

The door starts to creak.
It opens so slow.
Our knees have gone weak.
I wish we could go
From the haunted house.

But nothing is there 
As we huddle in fear.
Not one of us dare
To get up and peer
In the haunted house.

All night there are groans.
We hear footsteps, we swear,
And the rattle of bones.
Something is there 
In the haunted house.

We laugh at our fear
As we make our way home.
In daylight it’s clear
No spirits do roam 
In the haunted house.

The noises we heard?
Just the sounds of a house
Cooling down, and a bird
Not one single ghost
In the haunted house.

Do you celebrate Halloween? How do you celebrate?

My Visit to Mary Deal.

First of all, before I begin this post, I would like to say that I tried to respond to the comments and suggestions that many of you gave for my story based on Snow White and the Seven Dwarves. For some reason, WordPress said they couldn’t respond. Apologies. I hope the replies get through eventually. I did try several times!

I have been honoured to appear on Mary Deal’s blog. I love Mary’s books, she is an excellent author of mystery and thriller, and all the books I’ve read kept me on the edge of my seat.

Mary has featured an excerpt from my historical novel, Vengeance of a Slave. This is set in Roman Britain and tells the story of a slave boy, ripped from his family at merely six years old, and how he builds up his hatred of the Romans in the hope of escaping and taking revenge.

There is also a link to an interview I did with Mary some time ago.

If you would like to be featured on Mary’s website, she is kindly offering to do so. You can contact her by clicking on ‘Write Any Genre’ above.

I want to pick your brains.

I’m writing a story inspired by the fairy tale of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, but I’ve hit a plot hole.

Briefly, a couple who want a child decide to have one by IVF. They have a little girl they call Molly. They are well off people, the father being a successful business man.

Sadly, Molly’s mother dies in a car crash. Her father, Michael, is devastated, but eventually, after a few years, meets and marries a beautiful, if selfish woman who has a child, a boy called Sean. Lisa, the second wife overhears Michael saying he’s going to leave the business to Molly, but will ensure that Lisa has enough money for her and Sean to live as they are used to.

Lisa is also becoming jealous of Molly as her beauty is growing as Lisa’s is fading. Lisa plots to get rid of her step-daughter and persuades Sean to take a boat to France and push Molly overboard in the middle of the Channel. But Sean can’t bring himself to do this and they land in Fecamp, France.

Sean grabs Molly’s bag and runs back to the boat, starts the engine and leaves.

Milly has no means of identification, no money and no phone as they were all in her bag. She is befriended by a young man who takes her back to the house he shares with 6 other young people.

Molly finds the British Embassy is in Paris but she has no money to get there. So she agrees to do cleaning and some cooking for the others, who are all working.

Now, here are the plot holes.

Why don’t the others lend her a phone to phone her father?

Why doesn’t she go to the police?

I thought of 2 possible solutions,

I could move the time from the present day to, say, 1960s and have them living in a hippy commune. No mobile phones.

Molly could fall chasing after Sean and bang her head, and has no memory of who she is or why she’s there.

Which do you think would be better? Although the first doesn’t explain why she doesn’t go to the police.

Do you have a better explanation for this problem? If so, please let me know in the comments box. I will be ever grateful to you.

Key Events Leading to the Battle of Hastings Explained

Today is the 959th anniversary of the Battle of Hastings. This is probably the most important battle in the history of England. It changed our country forever. But before I begin, I would like to state that I’m not a historian, and so I might have some of these things wrong, especially where people have the same names!

Edward the Confessor was born between 1003 and 1005, the son of Æthelred the Unready and Emma, sister of Duke Richard of Normandy, He died in January 1066 and had been king from 1042.

The politics of this time is complicated, and so I will try to simplify it as much as possible. (This is to clear things in my own mind as much as anything!)

 Æthelred the Unready (which means poorly advised) was deposed as king by the Danish king, Swein Forkbeard. He fought, but eventually fled to Normandy. Swein took the English throne.

When Swein died in 1014, his son, Cnut became king of England and Edward, his brother, Alfred and sister Godgifu, joined their parents in Normandy. Edward, Alfred and Godgifu remained there for 24 years and were looked after by their uncle, Duke Robert.

When Cnut died in 1034, he was succeeded by his son, Harold Harefoot, and later by another son, Harthacnut. Hartharcnut was, in fact, Edward’s half-brother, his mother, Emma, having married Cnut after the death of Æthelred.

Harthacnut died suddenly, and that left the way open for Edward. He sailed to England and became king. He wanted to unite the Danish people in England with the Anglo Saxons.

Edward became peaceful Man of God, hence the name ‘Confessor’ that was given to him.

In 1045, Edward married Edith, the daughter of the most powerful earl in England. Earl Godwin had gained his power under Cnut, and wanted to hold onto it. Marrying his daughter to the king was an excellent way to do so. But she was very much younger than Edward, and some said it ws more like a father daughter relationship. Whatever the case, they had no children and there is speculation the marriage was never consummated.

Because of his early life spent in Normandy, the king naturally wanted his friends from that time to join him. Earl Godwin saw his power begin to wane, and he had a big fallout with Edward and went into exile.

He did return, however, and patched up his differences with the king and they seemed to be of similar mindsets from then on.

but Edward and Emma had no children, so what was going to happen when he died? Well he had a nephew who had been in exile in Hungary (another Edward). King Edward sent for him, but he sadly died on arrival, leaving his son, still a young boy, as heir to the throne. This boy was known as Edgar.

Duke Robert of Normandy, had an illegitimate son called William, but no legitimate heirs as he never married. While on pilgrimage to Rome, he died, and his son became the Duke of Normandy, often known as William the Bastard. As he was a cousin to Edward the Confessor, he also had a claim to the English throne.

The Normans claim that Edward declared William to be his successor .

Harold Godwinson, son of Earl Godwin, was sent to Normandy to tell William, and he was captured by the French. William effected his release, and Harold swore loyalty to William.

In January 1066, King Edward died. It is thought that the queen, Harold Godwinson, who had now inherited his father’s title and lands, and Archbishop Stigand were present, and Harold claimed that Edward had nominated him as his heir. Of course, the Queen, being Harold’s sister, would more than likely uphold what he said.

When this came to the ears of Duke William, it triggered his anger, and he began his plans for invasion, leading to the most famous battle in English history, the Battle of Hastings. (Which incidentally, didn’t take place at Hastings, but at Senlac Hill, at a place where there is now a town known as Battle.)

Discover the Beauty and Benefits of Trees

I was looking through some of my photographs the other day and came across several of lovely trees. I thought I’d share them.

I love trees, and they are so important, not only for helping with removing carbon dioxide from the atmosphere and turning it to oxygen, but also to preserve other wildlife.

ASCI

Just a Quick One!

I thought you might like to know that I’ve just signed the contract for Book 4 of The Wolves of Vimar series. It’s called Immortal’s Death. I’ll keep you informed as to the progress!

Flags in the UK.

Recently there have been flags appearing on lampposts, bridges etc. These flags are mainly those of England. The organisers claim they are to raise patriotism.

In fact, though, it was organised by right wing people

Some authorities have removed these flags as they were symbolising the extreme right. My immediate reaction was to do so, but that might have caused more disruption and potential violence.

Near where I live, though, beneath the English flag have appeared flags of many other countries. It made me smile as we drove past. It now says, ‘Yes, we are all English and proud of both our native country and our adoptive country.

There were, I’m sure you heard, massive demonstrations, again organised by right wing people. They  cleverly called them ‘Unite the Kingdom.’

What could be wrong with that? Well, nothing,  but the underlying message is ‘Unite the Kingdom against immigration and immigrants.’ But I suspect that some people didn’t appreciate that and took the title at face value.

Sadly, in this country the English  flag has become associated with the extreme right, except when used at sporting events. I think that the use of any country’s flag for anything other than official or sporting events should not be allowed.

Using the Flag of St George, or any  country’s flag, for that matter, as a symbol of right wing policies and hatred, and also as items of clothing is wrong.

What do you think of the use of flags, and especially the flag campaign in England.

AI writing

I saw an advertisement for something called Designerr. They were saying ‘Publish a book in minutes without writing a single word’.

As a writer, I think this is disgusting. I emailed them to their help line, which was the only method of getting in touch unless you wanted to sign up, and got a reply asking how they could help me. I’ve just sent the following reply.

This is not a plea for help, it’s just me giving my opinion. AI ‘writing’ books is a terrible idea. It cannot understand what it’s doing, nor the underlying craft of writing. It only knows what words usually follow another.

AI knows nothing of people and their emotions, which are important parts of writing meaningful books. The stuff it churns out is dreadful, so I’ve been told.

AI can only learn from scraping books already published by hard-working authors who spend many months, or even years getting a book to a standard where it’s ready for publishing. Many of these books that are scraped are pirated, too.

To suggest that someone can publish a book in minutes without writing a single word is disgusting, and an insult to genuine authors.

And you are taking work away from real writers!

My opinion. I suppose you’ll have yours. I’d be interested to hear from you about it.

Carthinal’s Practical Exam Part 3

I apologise for going missing for a couple of weeks. I’ve had a few family problems, and while not entirely resolved, I’ve now got a bit of energy back.

So here is the final part of Carthinal’s Practical Test.

Carthinal has successfully negotiated the labrynth where the test takes place and faced and defeated several enemies as well as using his intelligence to solve some problems. Now he is faced with the final test.

The corridor widened and became a large circular room with four doorways leading from it. The four doors were closed, but in the centre of the room was a circular device made of metal. On the top was a second circle of metal, slightly smaller, with an arrow engraved on one side.

Carthinal looked carefully at the device and it became apparent that the piece of metal on the top rotated over the lower one. There were four lines engraved on the lower circle across the diameter and at right angles to each other. Carthinal did not touch it yet. He needed to know more before doing anything. He looked around the room, and saw that there was writing all around, just above the height of the doors. 

At that moment, his rush torch went out.

He lit another and, noticing that he was getting down to the last few, he approached the wall to the left of the door through which he had entered the room and held up the torch. There was a two-line rhyme, which read,

‘The spring wind blows cross mountains wide
‘Through land of horse where barbarians ride.’


Continuing round the room, he pieced together the following,

‘From icy mountains encased in snow
‘In winter, do the cold winds blow.

‘The summer winds are soft and warm
‘They blow from desert and waving palm.

‘The autumn winds are rough and wild
‘They bring doom for man and child.

‘So turn me round and I will show
‘The proper way that you must go

‘But get it wrong and sorry be
‘For you must fight or you must flee.’


‘It’s some sort of puzzle to locate the correct door,’ he muttered to himself.

He paused to consider the words again. He wanted to be absolutely sure he got it right as he did not want to face the consequences of a wrong choice.

‘“Turn me round.” That’s probably the device in the centre. It must be like a combination lock. I don’t suppose there’ll be any help in listening for mechanisms working. It implies that a door will open anyway, and if it is wrong, dire consequences will result. OK. Then the other rhymes must give the directions. The second one must be the south wind as the Great Desert is in the south. The Barbarians with their horses are over the Western Mountains, so that must be the west wind. The one from the icy mountains must be the north wind, which leaves, by a process of elimination, the east wind for the final one. Ah! Got it. The clue is in the word “doom”. The Mountains of Doom are to the east.

That means it refers to the compass directions in the order: west, north, south and east. That must be the direction I turn the wheel.’

The problem now was locating north. There had been so many twists and turns that Carthinal had lost all sense of direction. ‘Bas, I could do with you now!’ he said, thinking of the ability of dwarves to locate direction underground. ‘Or I could do with a lodestone.’

He considered for a little longer, then decided that the mages would not have given an impossible task, so maybe there was a lodestone, or some other hint, hidden somewhere and he had missed it. 

After searching the room carefully, nothing became apparent, so he backtracked to the corridor that he had missed. He entered it holding his light high and walking with care, on the lookout for enemies.

There did not seem to be any danger down this tunnel. Suddenly, his light glinted off something in the wall of the tunnel. It was the door to a cupboard cut out of the rock. It was the metal ring to the left side of the door that glinted. He did not know whether there were any traps on the door, so he took his dagger and, standing to the side and as far away as he could, he raised the latch. The door swung open. He waited for a few seconds until he was sure that nothing was going to go off belatedly, and then held his light so that he could see into the space.

At first, he saw nothing, but when he put his hand into the cupboard and felt around, he came across a small object. On withdrawing it, he saw that it was a small case with a glass lid, and suspended inside the case was a small piece of lodestone, one end marked with red paint.

‘Just what I was looking for!’ he remarked, feeling rather smug.

He retraced his footsteps until he came back to the large round room, and now he could establish which way north was. He put the lodestone down, and turned the upper wheel until the notch was pointing to the west. After that, he rotated it to the north, then south, then east.

There was a rumbling sound. Carthinal held his breath, and the second door to the right slowly swung open. He waited for a few seconds, but nothing came out. He put out the torch so he could use infravision better and carefully approached the tunnel.

No heat sources to be seen, so he cautiously entered. Feeling his way, Carthinal crept along a tunnel that wound backwards and forwards, sometimes seeming to go back on itself a number of times. By now he had lost all sense of time, but decided that since no one had come to collect him, he must still be within the six hours, although it felt that he had been creeping along dark tunnels for days. 

He stopped for another drink and looked around. Still no heat sources. He lit another torch, noting with dismay that it was his last, and praying to Majora he was near enough to the end for it to last.

After a short while, a wall appeared in front of him. He stopped, thinking there had been no side passages for him to miss.

He noticed a cool breeze around his feet. Looking down, he saw a dark shadow towards the bottom of the wall to his left. He knelt, and sure enough, there was a low passage, only high enough to crawl along. Carthinal did not like this idea, as he felt vulnerable being unable to run, and with insufficient space to cast spells or throw his dagger. 

Memories came unbidden as to how mages sometimes died in the practical test. The more he tried to push those thoughts away, the more they stalked him, like ghosts, quietly and almost imperceptibly. He broke out into a sweat, and felt himself shiver.

‘This is no good,’ he scolded. ‘If you want to pass this damned test, you’ve got to go in there! Remember you promised Mabryl to do your best to get through.’

With that, he hitched his robe out of the way so he could crawl, and put out the light, as there would be no possibility of using it safely. It would have been humiliating to set himself on fire and have to be rescued. With that thought, he entered the tunnel.

‘Thank the gods for infravision. This would be a dreadful ordeal if one couldn’t see anything.’

Occasional small heat sources could be seen, but they were just spiders and beetles. 

Carthinal’s skin crawled as he thought of them getting in his clothing and onto his skin. Second only to undead, Carthinal hated spiders. 

Eventually, after what seemed like hours of crawling, but was in reality only about fifteen minutes, the crawl way ended in another large room.
At the exit from the crawl way, Carthinal paused and looked. 

‘Oh shit!’

Ahead of him was a large shape glowing red. It turned its eight red eyes towards where Carthinal crouched by the tunnel. It was a gigantic spider.

‘Oh shit!’ he re-iterated as the creature ran towards him across the room.

He remembered the true seeing spell he had on a scroll. Reasoning the mages would not deliberately try to kill their apprentices, he quickly pulled it out and read it. 

The spell took effect as the spider was about to strike.

To his relief it disappeared. 

It had been an illusion after all. 

Behind where the spider had crouched was a door. 

Carthinal ran across to it, looking around for any more nasty surprises, and pulled the door open. 

Light flooded into the cavern, blinding Carthinal for a moment, and he staggered over the threshold. Hands guided him to a chair, and voices were congratulating him for being the first one back. 

Slowly it dawned on him that he was out of the tunnels, and had succeeded in completing the practical test. His sense of relief was immense, and he offered up a prayer of thanks to Majora for his success. It was several minutes before he realised what it meant. He had passed his test and was now no longer an apprentice.

‘I did it, Mabryl. You said I would, but I didn’t believe you,’ he murmured.

‘What did you say?’ A voice spoke from by his side.

‘Oh, nothing. Was I talking aloud?’ He turned to see who had spoken. 

It was the mage who had overseen his test, Yssalithissandra.

‘Well done. You got back with half an hour to spare. We’re expecting some of the others any time now. How are you feeling?’

She sounded genuinely concerned, so Carthinal stood and told her he was feeling fine.

He stretched and looked towards the other doors. One of them was opening, and through it came Olipeca. She looked very tired, but not completely spent. 

He guessed she had not needed to use all her spells either. Her examiner escorted her to a chair, and spoke reassuring words to her. 

She seemed to realise she was out of the test tunnels and within the given time. Her face lit up with a smile. Her hair had come loose from its customary tight and severe style. It hung loose around her face, and the ecstatic smile as she realised she had made it through in time, made her look almost pretty.

One of the other doors opened and through it staggered Grimmaldo. He managed to get over the threshold but collapsed into the waiting arms of his examiner, and was all but carried to a chair. He had made it with only a few minutes to spare, but he had made it.

Carthinal looked around. There were three of them back, and there were five arch-mages. 

Carthinal was going to ask where the sixth arch-mage was when another door opened and he came in carrying something. He put it down on the floor, and the others could see that it was Laurre. 

He was lying very still. The mage said something to the others which the now ex-apprentices could not hear. Then he came over to where they were waiting.

‘I am very sorry to tell you that your friend, Laurre, did not make it through the labyrinth. He died in the ambush section. A great pity. We always regret the loss of a student, but the tests are essential as I am sure you appreciate.’

‘What about Ebrassaria and Hammevaro?’ asked Grimmaldo. 

As he was speaking, and the final few seconds ticked away, one of the last two doors opened and Hammevaro literally fell into the room, and was immediately violently sick on the floor. 

One of the mages called for an apprentice to clear it up as he lifted Hammevaro to one of the chairs, where he immediately passed out.

‘Well, he’s just made it,’ Grimmaldo whispered, ‘but what about Ebrassaria?’

In answer to his question, one of the wizards entered the final door and a few minutes later emerged with Ebrassaria clinging onto his arm. 

She looked the worst of them all, barely able to stand, and paler even than Grimmaldo looked before entering. 

The arch-mage accompanying her led her to a chair and sat her down. He gave her sips of water and talked to her quietly. 

She did not seem to realise what was going on or where she was at first, then suddenly it seemed to dawn on her that she was out of the labyrinth and that since she had required an escort out, she had not passed the practical. 

She burst into tears.


Yssalithissandra spoke quietly to the others. ‘Of course, this means she has failed to pass this test as she did not get out of the labyrinth in time,’ she sighed. ‘A great pity as she did so well in the theory. Still, a mage needs to be a practitioner as well as a theorist. She can always retake another time.’

As the group of newly promoted mages left the room Yssalithissandra approached Carthinal. 

Grimmaldo, and Hammevaro left to collapse somewhere to sleep, and Olipeca to find her master to give her the good news.

‘I have something that Mabryl was bringing for you,’ Carthinal told her. ‘An old spell book he thought would help you in your research of the lost knowledge.’

‘Really?’ replied the woman. ‘How odd I should turn out to be your examiner. Come to my rooms later and you can give it to me. We can talk about Mabryl. I knew him well when he was in the tower and would like to catch up on his life after he left here.’

‘Thank you,’ Carthinal answered, ‘I would like that.’

He realised that he was telling the truth. He was now ready to deal with Mabryl’s death and actually wanted to talk about him.

If you would like to know what happened to Carthinal after the test, the first book of The Wolves of Vimar series is available from your favourite online store as a paperback, hardback, e book or audio book. Just click on the button below, or on the cover on the sidebar.

Did you enjoy this chapter? I decided to eliminate it because it added nothing to the actual story, nor much to the character of Carthinal.

I love hearing from you, so please leave your comments in the comments box.