Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

From $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

The Glassblower
The Glassblower
The Glassblower
Ebook41 pages26 minutes

The Glassblower

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars

()

Read preview

About this ebook

A novelette set on Ysthar--in Venice, to be exact, on a foggy winter's night in the early 18th century, when Scheherezade the Storyteller finds herself looking for a warm place to spend the night. She's not particularly successful on that front. She does find herself a bit of an adventure--and a new story, which is generally worth a sleepless night ...

 

Part I of The Glassblower Diptych. (Part II, The Storyteller, will be available later in August 2024.) 

LanguageEnglish
Release dateAug 13, 2024
ISBN9781998133208
The Glassblower
Author

Victoria Goddard

Victoria Goddard is a fantasy novelist, gardener, and occasional academic. She has a PhD in Medieval Studies from the University of Toronto, walked across the length of England in 2013, and is currently the sexton of an Anglican church in Halifax, Nova Scotia.

Read more from Victoria Goddard

Related to The Glassblower

Related ebooks

Fantasy For You

View More

Related articles

Reviews for The Glassblower

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars
0 ratings

0 ratings0 reviews

What did you think?

Tap to rate

Review must be at least 10 words

    Book preview

    The Glassblower - Victoria Goddard

    1

    Scheherezade entered the hostelry without much anticipation. It was raining: she’d crossed the city hoping not so much for a warm welcome, but at least warmth. She’d found, over the past year or so of travelling, that the warmth accorded to an unaccompanied woman traveller varied quite considerably.

    The room was dim and smokey. The new-style glass lamps were in the process of being lit, by a thin, faded-looking woman in a dull blue apron. She looked around with a sharp turn when Scheherezade opened the door, and paused in apparent astonishment. Scheherezade nodded uncertainly. I was told this was a safe house for travellers, she said, using the words she’d been given by a tinker before she’d embarked on the ship.

    It was, replied the thin woman. Her voice was sharp as her movements, monotonous as her colouring. Is still, sometimes. There have been troubles.

    I am sorry to hear that. The language was taking some time getting used to. There were a few words of Arabic, even Persian mixed in, which disconcerted her. This city was nothing like her home, neither the desert nor the gardens. It was built on water, dripped with water, was sodden with water. If the Babylon of Scheherezade’s past was a city of air, the island city of Venice was a city of water.

    Come in, the woman said with a toss of her head, her grey headscarf swaying. But I warn you, be careful. The old master is dead, may he rest in peace, and the new master has different ideas. Be sure you keep yourself to yourself. We don’t want any … shenanigans.

    Scheherezade tried hard not to be offended. A solitary woman, coming in to a hostelry of a rainy evening, dressed in a dark cloak … There were many views people took, few of them admirable. She did not need to be beautiful to know that.

    Thank you, good mistress. I merely want to sit by the fire and warm up. I can pay.

    Where is your coin from?

    I have silver coin of seven realms, and gold of three, and stories of a thousand.

    The thin woman stopped again, hand on the last lamp. She didn’t turn. Then she blew out the spill she was holding, with another abrupt motion. I’ve heard tales of a woman who told stories.

    I’m sure I’m not the only one, good mistress.

    "The new master will be coming soon. He doesn’t hold with travellers from beyond. Best say you’re from somewhere closer to home. Sit. I’ll bring you something warm."

    Scheherezade sat on the bench placed beside the fireplace. With the lanterns lit the room was quite pleasant, cleaner than she’d expected from the stench in the canals outside. She could hear people’s voices echoing indistinctly along the water, and shivered again. Since leaving her desert she’d never felt quite warm; her paths

    Enjoying the preview?
    Page 1 of 1
    pFad - Phonifier reborn

    Pfad - The Proxy pFad of © 2024 Garber Painting. All rights reserved.

    Note: This service is not intended for secure transactions such as banking, social media, email, or purchasing. Use at your own risk. We assume no liability whatsoever for broken pages.


    Alternative Proxies:

    Alternative Proxy

    pFad Proxy

    pFad v3 Proxy

    pFad v4 Proxy