Caspar Quince is a comic fantasy novel I’m currently writing.

Depending on the response, I will be publishing extracts to see how it lands.

It is set in Greatish Bruton, which of course has nothing to do with any other places of a similar name. Here’s a small piece from the novel featuring one of the main characters, Marlow Cavendish, if you like what you read why not leave some feedback at the end?

CASPAR QUINCE

An extract from the novel

Marlow Cavendish was seething again. It was one of his favourite bad habits. If you had asked him what he would like to do most, if all his time wasn’t spent plotting revenge against someone or other, it would be to sit down in a comfy chair, with a large glass of Brutish wine and have a good seethe.

The sea captain had absconded, bringing no further news about that rascally Quince. He had been really looking forward to watching Quinces legs kick out when that too clever for its own good neck got stretched. Now either the ship had sank, which meant they were all drowned, or and this was more likely, the crew had somehow lost Quince and were too scared to come back in case he was very angry about it. He was very angry about it, but not knowing was making him seethe.

To top it all off, he had not seen Coyles in over a month. It worried him that his best henchman might have dropped him for another despot who was prepared to be more generous. Perhaps he was just laying low. But this did mean should the occasion require it he might just have to do his own dirty work, directly in a manner of speaking. That just wouldn’t do. He would almost certainly soil his new gloves. He was about to pour himself another glass when the messenger arrived, bursting through the door with a scrap of paper in his hand.

“I bring news sir!” he declared breathing heavily.

“Well, imagine that, I didn’t think that scrap of paper in your hand was a magic trick”

“No sir, tis a message only” he replied.

“What is it?”

The messenger looked crestfallen. He didn’t realise there would be a quiz. He wished he could hide his entire body behind his ridiculous hat.

“I… don’t know sir. Tis written on this paper here”

“Well read it aloud”

“Not much of a reader sir if I am honest, more of a deliverer kind of fellow”

“Then try”

“Really sir I am not very good”

Cavendish left his chair and strode over to the messenger, wrapping an uncomfortable arm around his shoulder.

“Tell me, which is your favourite window in this room?”

“Window sir?” the messenger said looking round at the ornate stained glass which beamed beautiful light onto the stone flags. “I suppose the one with the birds”

Cavendish tightened his grip even further round the poor messenger.

“Then read the message or I shall personally throw you through your favourite window”

The messenger cleared his throat and began.

“Mar, marl…ow. Marlowe, Cav…Cavern….dish

Cavendish rolled his eyes. “Speed it up a bit boy”

“Am tryin sir,, Marlow Cavendish, Bad, news from Hello……hollow”

It was almost half an hour later when the messenger, now sweating profusely got to the end of short note. Cavendish was slumped in his chair, head in his hands. Partly exhausted by the slowest reader in the kingdom, but more than that, the awful news about Quince. The thing that he had suspected had come true, or at least part of it had. The Captain and his crew had been spotted by another jail vessel, sailing past the hollow, which no one ever does, and they were sailing as fast as the wind would carry them.

“The sailor who gave me the message sir also wished to add that the crew on board the other ship refused to stop when asked to. Then they made some very rude gestures”.

“Is that all?”

“No sir, they also made some comments about the questionable virtue of the Captain’s daughter which I believe to be true sir but it’s still not very nice”.

“Has there been any sight of them since?”

“No sir”

“You are dismissed messenger”

“Thank you sir, good night sir” the messenger replied somewhat relieved.

“Oh and Messenger, come here for a moment”

The messenger walked over, cap in hand with his head slightly bowed, half curtesying as he walked forward.

Cavendish placed a gentle hand on the cheek of the messenger then pulling his arm back as far back as his shoulder would allow, delivered a hefty smack across the messengers head.

“LEARN HOW TO READ YOU MORON!” he yelled in his face. The messenger retreated bowing all the way until his backside bumped against the door. He escaped as quickly as he could, hoping that no further messages were to be received until he had a better grasp of the whole reading aloud thing. He had just left one of the highest rooms in the whole castle and did not relish the idea of launching a very short flying career from it.

What do you think?

If you’ve read this far, I’d genuinely like to know what you thought.

Did you find it funny?

Did you like Marlow Cavendish?

And, most importantly, would you want to read more?

Honest answers are very welcome. You don’t need to be a writer or know anything about fantasy fiction. I’m interested in whether the story works for someone encountering Greatish Bruton for the first time.