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THE SWORD, THE WORD, AND THE WRITINGS: A Novel: Real Inky Trail book series. Book 3
THE SWORD, THE WORD, AND THE WRITINGS: A Novel: Real Inky Trail book series. Book 3
THE SWORD, THE WORD, AND THE WRITINGS: A Novel: Real Inky Trail book series. Book 3
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THE SWORD, THE WORD, AND THE WRITINGS: A Novel: Real Inky Trail book series. Book 3

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Long ago, in the faraway kingdom of the Willow and Oak. There lived two neighboring tribes - the peaceful and humble tribe of the Willow, those were known as the forest dwellers, and the fierce and proud tribe of the Oak; the big-time town folks. For centuries, the two tribes lived in harmony, bound by a vow made by their ancestors in ancient ti

LanguageEnglish
PublisherE Lloyd Kelly
Release dateJun 23, 2023
ISBN9781778263774
THE SWORD, THE WORD, AND THE WRITINGS: A Novel: Real Inky Trail book series. Book 3
Author

E Lloyd Kelly

E Lloyd Kelly is an Author, poet, and blogger. Born in Jamaica, West Indies, to Raglan and Alma Kelly. Now resides in Montreal Quebec where (when not writing,) he drives a shuttle bus between campuses at McGill University

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    THE SWORD, THE WORD, AND THE WRITINGS - E Lloyd Kelly

    Introduction

    A Novel: Real Inky Trail book series. Book 3

    The sword, the word, and the writings is book number three in the Real Inky Trail book series. This is a fictional story, based partly on some facts and current affairs. Set in Cekkoland of the KDs, and told with a twisted comedic edge, poetry, wordplay, and sensational spellings. Seasoned with snippets of Jamaican Patois inserted here and there throughout, as may be found fitting, okay? Yeah man, no doubt, a Jamaica yaad mi cum fram. Sorry, I meant to say, I'm Jamaican-born and bred, okay? Note: The names and characters depicted in this book are fictitious and not to be construed as being real, or be associated with any actual person living or dead. This is a copyright-protected work. © 2019 By E. Lloyd Kelly. All rights reserved. 

    Further note: This story is told from a Carib-Jamericanadian perspective. In a richly blended language mix of; nonsense talk, sensational spelling, double entendre, poetry, and Jamaican Patois. Yes, wordplay is the order of the day around here. Yeah - man, a Jamaica yaad mi come fram, sorry, I meant to say; I'm Jamaican born and bred, okay? 

    Prologue

          THE BLOODY END

    The end was about to come falling on them when…

    Give peace a chance, I heard someone say after centuries of looting and bloodshed. The big bad Wolfman was readying to go out and do his whoop dance again, in the same way as he had done it time and time again. By then, though, the paradigm had shifted, with the help of the gods and the gifted. On every side of him, the people were beginning to rid themselves of him and his ways of doing things. At the first sign of a re-route, all that was ready got out of the loop. So…

    This is as much as we were able to recall about all that was said to have happened between them, the early inhabitants of the kings' land. And what would have transpired after the blood truce of the two patriots with the guardian of the land, ding place up north, and the scenes as was to be seen playing out down the long line afterward and heading towards the answer to what was in his asked, favors, yes? Yes. Based on what? You'd asked - Mr. Coward? That. Because of the faithfulness of each, or the lack thereof. But only as it was to be seen through the eyes of some casual observer guys, like this little brat sitting across from the peak of your baseball cap and giving me advice.

    About the needy wives.

    "No but, watching the wristwatch to try and see what time it was about to strike the hitter, out. Since it will be deemed cruel if he should strike you across the mouth. Someone down the family line wanted to know how it all got started. So, he went back and looked through the bamboo joint, under the orchid. The one that was given to his ancestors at the time.

    Oink!

    Huh! That must be coming out of our war pig.

    Yes, Miss Piggy, just trying you know. He was trying to find some answers to fit his car into the latest turning point, Lord lord lord, in my wife. He was also trying to find the reasons for their continuing plight. What he saw was his long-dead son as a fearsome monster, with a word of advice to take back home to the gangsters that night - my star. Yes, studied I'm sure, as you are; stay away from motorbikes, he said, in a soft tone beside his bed. Don't go losing your head. The dangers are too many, and the price too high. With not enough time after the wet wheels against the road splash-hit up against the bike to think things through properly and get the decisions right - my love. By then though, they'd all gone too far away from that neck of the Wood - Rowe, and from the pack they had signed, no? Yes, the whole pack of dominos, had crossed too far over to the other side of the, um, track. For them to ever have a hope of getting back on the path to a comeback, king spell, of snow. (To ever have a hope of getting back on the right side of the track is what he meant - miss Dell, you know.) Somebody was there faking around trying to make it, home, and glorying in much too much of the fakery with the wrong gnome. Like you, for instance, and she. Oh sheet - man, no, don't point at me, she said to me, pointedly. Because… As the years passed, the descendants of the Oak tribe grew greedy and arrogant once again. They began to see the Willow tribe as weak and inferior to them, the same as their ancestors had done on lead-in lane, and slowly started to break the new vow. The Willow tribe tried to reason with them, but it was too late to blow-wow. One day, during a lull in the fighting, Larry went to sleep and had a vision, as was later seen in the writings. He saw the kingdom torn apart by the war and division, and the two tribes at the brink of extinction, against his liking. He realized there and then that the only way to end the wars and restore lasting peace was to make a sacrifice, like this - to give up some of their land and resources to the Oak tribe and start anew in a different land. If needs be, he said, well, there was nothing else but needs to beat - mi bred. Yes, my brother, so.

    The leaders of both factions came together to form a truce. Larry and his men approached Kingsley with a proposal for a ceasefire and the sharing of their land and resources. Kingsley, as proud a man as he was, was taken aback by the proposal and saw it as more signs of weakness under their hands, in gloves. However, he also realized that the war was taking a heavy toll on his tribe as well, and he would much rather have the land and resources without any further fighting, as you can tell. Even if just a potion, instead of the whole 'damned,' thing, he said to himself in the middle of signing the agreement, between them. They made a new vow, among the youths. But this time, in the presence of their gods, the elders and tribal leaders, as well as, sealing it in harmony with the elements of nature. They decided to live in peace and share the land and resources equally. Larry shared his vision and the proposal he had made with the squared king, his council, and the tribal leaders. They agreed to his plan, if only as a breather. The bloody war came to an end, and both tribes worked together from then on, to rebuild their homes and heal their wounds. They became known as the Kingdom of the Willow and Oak and prospered for many generations. Living in peace and harmony, as their ancestors had intended and planned it to be - my stepson, for me. Not really, but for many years, and several generations down the stairs. The kingdom not only prospered but flourished in peace. The Oaks and Willows, and even down to the Squares and Circulars, put aside their differences and worked together to build a prosperous society, and prospered they did. Yes, they'd agreed to end all the fighting and wars and establish a vow of peace, pledging to never again raise their weapons against each other in anger, like this. But one was a liar and a thief. The other was, well, you already know all about these walking feet, yes - mi cous. The agreement was sealed with a blood oath, yes, each leader cutting their hand and mixing their blood to symbolize the sanctity of their commitment, on the way out. Or something like that was what he meant to do upon the pivoting slot, no doubt. The ancestors' stories were bound to come after, with measured insight as to what they should always do to prosper, and have success, or not. Watch the negotiation in effect, (if you want,) for more valuable insights on top of the disaster in the hot sauce her (pan…) that they were made to bite. To render the landing softer, I guess, for whoever may come after, our guests. As is to be seen playing out now in the pasture, before our eyes, yes.

    However, as time passed, those memories of the not-too-distant past faded into oblivion and the young generations grew restless about their ax, (or not.) Some warriors began to question the wisdom of their forebearers and sought to rekindle the flames of war. It all came crashing down and came to a head when the young prince of the Squares. Those from a measured line down the years, driven by the thirst for blood, power, and glory, for themselves and all the rest of the squares with love, towards me. According to our story. Broke the blood oath and launched another surprise attack on the Circulars. The Circulars were caught off guard and suffered heavy losses, at the hands of those banana, suckers of the half-breeds. The leader of the Circulars, at the time, a wise and just man called Clem, the long-time forefather of Clemson, and Elazar, was ruling over them then. He demanded an explanation for the attack and reminded Kingsley of the vow made by their ancestors, from way back. Kingsley sneered at him and replied that; the vow was meaningless, and that the Circular tribe was weak and pathetic, like worthless animals, and unworthy of their land and such fine resources as it is. Enraged, Clem called for a council of the tribe's elders and warriors. They decided that they could no longer tolerate the Squares tribe's cruelty and gazing at them down their nose(s). Pledged that they would defend their land and people at all costs, over the barriers. The Willow tribe, though peaceful, was far from defenseless. They were skilled in the art of herbalism and had developed powerful magical potions and elixirs that could give them an advantage in battle and knock the opponent senseless. Although the losses were great on the Circulars' side, they quickly regrouped and mobilized their forces. The kingdom was plunged into chaos as the two sides clashed in a brutal war, their once-great civilization being torn apart by their own hands. The Circulars, led by their new and powerful leader, the High Mage they affectionately called, Clem, fought back with all their might. They unleashed their full magical power, raining down destruction upon the Squares. However, the Squares were a fierce and relentless foe who was never known to quit, so they fought back with equal ferocity, fist-to-fist, even. The battle raged on for years and over several reins of kings. Leaving a trail of death and destruction in its wake. As the war reached its climax, the High Mage realized that their side was on the brink of defeat. Desperate to turn the tide of the battle, to get back firmly on his feet. He summoned up a dark and powerful entity from another realm, promising it a host of sacrifices in exchange for its aid. The entity agreed, and it descended upon the battlefield, wreaking havoc and terror upon the Squares, yes indeed. The tide of the battle shifted, and the Circulars gained the upper hand. But at what cost? We'll soon find out from the man, yes, the one you'd asked. The entity was insatiable, and it demanded more and more sacrifices, threatening to turn on its summoners if its thirst was not quenched by six. The High Mage, realizing the true nature of the entity he had unleashed, attempted to banish it back to its realm with his magical powers, with ease. But it was too late, and way out of his league. The entity was beyond his control, it consumed both the High Mage and the kingdom of the KDs in a maelstrom of darkness, so we were told. Yes, and so, the kingdom of those KDs people was lost, consumed by the blood thirst of the entity, of course. The pride and greed of its people was to take a further tumble down the lane, from there.

    'Because they landed on the land, dead?"

    Well, almost, but not quite.

    The Squares and Circulars almost perished, their once-great civilization reduced to ashes and ruin. The vow they made, the blood they mixed, was all for naught, and their story became known as The Bloody End. But was it? Not quite. A tiny group of fishermen from among them, were out at sea when they saw columns of smoke blowing up into the skies, towards the heavens. They knew right away what the cause was, so they kept on sailing in the other direction, away from home and towards the islands. They landed on a group of islands and had to negotiate with the wild one, (the guardian.) They ended up on one of those tiny islands and quickly established their society there. But, beware.

    Two will have to see about the wellbeing of this one, this was the plan as was agreed upon with the guardian. Because he's weaker than the strong. But the two of you are going to be strong enough, he said. Make sure he sits at the highest point in every sector of your patriarchal society, do you hear me, sir?

    Yes, Nectar.

    Never forget that he's there to represent me, and, and mine, do you hear? So said the man, over there. That was the command from the guardian to them - my dear. To represent me, don't ever forget this treaty and…

    Those two are strong enough together, or alone, as he had said, to his lieutenant, walking ahead towards the town. But you do know how they are when it comes to them honoring a commitment back home, right? So, this was to be the coming together of the Cekko and the rest of the KD's people. Somewhere down and around the waist indeed where those weevils used to, to… Well, yes, indeed.

    The Mocks. Since you'd asked were just that; mockers. One of them was just there accompanying his longtime friend Mikel Mbeki until he was dragged in. But now, he's in. Deeper than he had ever imagined that he could have ever been, in a drop-in center. Yes - my mentor. Mr. Mockery was there accompanying his friend, until he was dragged in, to them. He was found faithful enough though. But now, look, this will surely make you whistle, and blow. Or try to. Since just hot air was coming through your rounded loop, near the sinks. Because you'd lost your frontal tooth from among the teeth man brute, in the pink of these things. Lost it to the Ratman fairy living in the thatch on the airy housetop near me. Upon the roof…

    You mean; us, right?

    Yes - Rufus. Can't you hear me clearly, ma-ite? But how about those scenes as was to be seen playing out down the long line afterward? Based on the faithfulness of the... Coward! The final decision was to come down to each man centuries later. But not late enough. Should have stayed away from our door for good - man. Yes, look at what came home to face her - mom, and Mr. Wood. The offspring are scattered, the homeland occupied by squatters, and all seem to have forgotten about the vow that they had made into the guardian's saucer.

    Some of the descendants went off to a friend's dance and were going to be made to pay dearly, even in advance. While others won't need to. At least, not that harshly. But only as it was to be seen through the eyes of some casual observer - guys, like she, and yes, this one sitting on his back, side; me. Nothing, it would seem, happened by chance, it's either you pay up, or you'll be made to pay what you owed the man, nope?

    Yes.

    Therefore, whenever you negotiate with the guardian, be meticulous and steadfast, in guarding your hand under your ax, and then. Hand over what the man, (thing,) had asked. You did agree to do them, because you were in need at the time, when you'd used them, perhaps. Now that you've got what you'd wanted at the start, it's time to pay him back, with the forks.

    But you were there pointing blame at your neighbor's door frame, for misbehaving me, in your name, I'm sure, and into the family's shame, once more. But not knowing that the fault, dear Brutus Core, stood laid up way back in your own ancestry's bamboo bore. Stop, don't even begin to think that, no, it's not that. Not that they'd done wickedness to anybody's pack of cats, or rats, I mean, just cats, yet. It was just that they were too chicken to honor their own words given, away in promissory. As promised airy note thing nests - mi pickney.

    Okay.

    Of course. Still, the echoes of their story lived on, serving as a cautionary tale of the dangers of pride and greed, and the terrible consequences that come with breaking a blood oath with the man, from among the thieves. A few others might have escaped and ended up constantly guarding their dinner plates, while living in another realm close by them and their gates, as the rest of the story is about to show. The river that rolled there constantly flowing its rippling waters by did very little to quell the hauntings of the past and what they would have lost. But two are always strong enough, so. Those two were expected to see about the well-being of this one. But they went off and went beyond the hut, where they were to run headlong into the mudhole octopus. The cycle of war and bloodshed began again, and the kingdom plunged into another crisis. That's what led them and us toward this.  

    I

    Chapter 1

    A cash crop of gods, yes. They were all there, worshipping the memory, and merry-making. Honoring the lifestyle and spirit of their elders - the ancient. Caring about nothing other than their children, the innocent. Basking in the glories of those who had long walked the way. Even way before their shoe and would have served their time and gone. Those who had lived and taught those golden ways, and the ancient custom of the ancestors to the offspring naves. Those have now been passed on by way of the graves. Then came the un-graving, just to get things even. Then came the other men, with the sword and a word in hand. The sword was in the right hand, and the word in the left did leave a lasting impact on the left wing there upon the writing on the walls of that circular lot. Deep wounds which they, those of the square way could not retract. Not that they would even contemplate such an act. Nor were they ever going to make a move on anything the likes of that, but. They were out searching for one when they found this promised land. That which he, yes, that man. He found it there heavy under the palming hand of a circular man. In

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