But that wasn’t the worst of it.
‘Come here,’ I heard my voice say. ‘Let me hold you.’
What?
Had I completely lost my faculties for logical reasoning? We were trapped in a sandstorm, not a snowstorm! Pressing closely against each other would not increase our chances of survival by one single iota. What was I thinking?
That’s the problem. You aren’t. Period.
‘Yes! Please!’
There was that soft voice again, all scared and lonely, and yet, underneath all that, still strong, still fiery, still my little Ifrit. Without thinking twice (or even once, to tell the truth) I pulled her up against me until our faces were pressed against each other, hard jaw to soft cheek, black strands to brown locks, lips to hungry lips.
I felt dazed. Was this really happening? Were the two of us really…? Could it be that…?
‘Rick?’
That voice…
‘Yes, Lilly?’
‘I’m glad you’re here.’
Don’t say anything! Don’t say anything! Don’t say any-
‘I’m glad you’re here, too.’
Damn!
‘Really?’
I felt that irrational tug at the corner of my mouth again that I only ever felt when she was around. ‘Not glad that you’re here in the sandstorm, in imminent danger of suffocation, obviously. I meant here with me.’
‘Yes. I meant that, too.’
‘Good.’
‘Yes.’
A moment of silence. A moment of roaring storm winds. If only she would speak again. If only I could hear her voice, listen to that spark of fire!
‘Lilly?’
‘Yes?’
‘If we don’t survive, I want you to know that I…’
At that precise moment, the storm gave another roar, cutting me off mid-speech. Just as well. Because I actually had no idea what kind of wild, foolish thing I was about to say.
THE MIDDLE
Dedication
This story is dedicated to all my fantastic fans and fiery little Ifrits! It is thanks to your fervent support that I have now been able to publish the second book of the Storm and Silence series!
Firstly, there are all those awesome people who have either supported my writing by buying the first book of this series (and actually bringing it onto a few online bestseller lists!) or are supporting my literary efforts by subscribing to my chapters on Radish Fiction. Thanks to your help, I’ve taken a big step closer to becoming a professional writer, and I’m deliriously excited!
Secondly, I would like to thank Grace Harris, who contributed to the Storm and Silence publishing campaign and didn’t get mad at me for accidentally forgetting to include her in the last book’s dedication. My sincerest apologies!
As with the last volume of this series, a big cartload of thanks goes to Iris Chacon, the wonderful editor who volunteered her time to edit this opus from front to back.
And finally, I wish to thank every other kind of fan under the sun: composers of Storm and Silence melodies, creators of awesome fan-art and fanfiction, writers of glowing reviews and readers who devour my writing - I love you all! (In a very platonic, non-schmaltzy way…) Thank you for being the world’s best fandom! I look forward to scribbling many more stories for your enjoyment, knowing that you shall be with me every step of the way.
About the Author
Robert Thier is a German historian and writer of historical fiction. His particular mix of history, romance, and adventure, always with a good deal of humour thrown in, has gained him a diverse readership ranging from teenagers to retired grandmothers. For the way he manages to make history come alive, as if he himself lived as a medieval knight, his fans all over the world have given him the nickname ‘Sir Rob’.
For Robert, becoming a writer followed naturally from his interest in his-tory. ‘In Germany,’ he says, ‘we use the same word for story and history. And I've always loved the one as much as the other. Becoming a storyteller, a writer, is what I've always wanted.’
Besides writing and researching in dusty old archives, on the lookout for a mystery to put into his next story, Robert enjoys classical music and long walks in the country. The helmet you see in the picture he does not wear because he is a cycling enthusiast, but to protect his literary skull in which a bone has been missing from birth. Robert lives in the south of Germany in a small village between the three Emperor Mountains.
Other Books by Robert Thier
Storm and Silence
Freedom - that is what Lilly Linton wants most in life. Not marriage, not a brood of squalling brats, and certainly not love, thank you very much!
But freedom is a rare commodity in 19th-century London, where girls are expected to spend their lives sitting at home, fully occupied with looking pretty. Lilly is at her wits’ end - until a chance encounter with a dark, dangerous and powerful stranger changes her life forever…
The award-winning first volume of the Storm and Silence series! Winner of the People’s Choice Award and Story of the Year Award 2015.
ISBN-10: 3000513515
ISBN-13: 978-3000513510
The Robber Knight
When you are fighting for the freedom of your people, falling in love with your enemy is not a great idea.
Sir Reuben, the dreaded robber knight, has long been Ayla’s deadliest enemy. She swore he would hang for his crimes. Now they are both trapped in her castle as the army of a far greater enemy approaches, and they have only one chance: stand together, or fall. Welcome to "The Robber Knight"—a tale full of action, adventure, and romance.
Special Edition with secret chapters revealed and insights into Sir Reuben’s mysterious past.
ISBN-10: 1499251645
ISBN-13: 978-1499251647
Upcoming Titles
At present (2016) The Robber Knight, Storm and Silence and In the Eye of the Storm are Robert Thiers’s only books published in English. However, book two of the Robber Knight Saga, The Robber Knight’s Love, is being edited for publication. Keep updated about the book’s progress on the internet.
Website: www.robthier.com
Facebook profile: www.facebook.com/robert.thier.161
Facebook page: http://de-de.facebook.com/RobThierHelmHead
Twitter: http://twitter.com/thesirrob
Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/author/show/6123144.Robert_Thier
Copyright © 2016 Robert Thier
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.
The cover of this book was created by the author using various licensed images.
Disclaimer:
This work is a work of fiction. All names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real names, businesses, places, events and incidents, or to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
This book is also available in print book format. More information on this and any other subject connected with Robert Thier’s books on: www.robthier.com
Endnotes
[1] The Preventive Waterguard, simply Waterguard for short, was the predecessor of Her Majesty's Coastguard, operating in Great Britain in the 19th and the early 20th century. Their main job was indeed catching those naughty people who smuggled goods into England and throwing them into the sea, instead of fishing people out who had accidentally fallen in.
[2] Back in Victorian days, people hadn’t heard of DNA, or to call it by its full name, Deoxyribonucleic Acid, yet. So romantic entanglements between such close relatives as cousins were quite common. In Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice for instance, both hero and heroine were intended for their respective cousins before they fell for each other.
[3] This was actually tried once, and not by a curious scientist, but by a man who really thought that sleep was a co
mplete waste of time. Frederick the Great, King of Prussia in the eighteenth century, was a renowned workaholic who only slept four hours a day, and once tried to stop sleeping completely. The experiment ended when he collapsed with colic after four days.
[4] A Victorian expression for a certain part of the body. Can you guess which…? No, you don’t even have to let your dirty little minds go so far. It’s simply an expression for ‘legs’.
[5] A popular Victorian entertainment form, consisting of a mix of comedy, music and acrobatic acts.
[6] One step up from a colony. A protectorate is a foreign country that subordinates itself to a certain extent to a great power. Sometimes this might involve having to pay tribute, or relinquishing control over foreign affairs.
[7] I will leave you and your favourite Latin dictionary to figure that out by yourselves. Have fun!
[8] British English insult, which means something like “badly smelling jerk”.
[9] People who stuff things, particularly of the dead animal variety.
[10] For those of my dear readers who are no experts in biology: salamanders are cold-blooded animals, which means they do not move in winter at all, or when they do, at a rate so slow it is imperceptible to the human eye.
[11] I would like to point out, just because I have met with one or two people in the past who were offended by this term, that it is not at all derogatory. It is simply a term for Muslim that was predominant in the English-speaking world of the 19th century, and so I use it for reasons of historical accuracy. You can look its use up in original 19th century novels such as Rudyard Kipling’s Kim.
[12] For those of us who flunked geography in school: the Strait of Gibraltar is the name of the narrows that connects the Atlantic Ocean with the Mediterranean.
[13] The part of a ship that is built on top of the deck.
[14] The main port city of Egypt.
[15] A full-length garment used by Egyptian men (similar to a coat). It often is often made out of bright, striped cloth.
[16] A Victorian expression for ‘tongue’ – but, oddly enough, only a woman’s tongue. I have no idea why. Maybe because the lady in question is literally smoking hot.
[17] British English expression for ‘very, very drunk’. Apparently, English owls like to party.
[18] The big, trumpet-shaped part of your ear around the opening that helps sound get in.
[19] An Arabian expression meaning ‘Hurry up!’
[20] An expression equivalent to the English ‘Ma’am’. Dear me, when I’m finished with writing this book, I’ll be able to order breakfast in Arabic. That would be something, wouldn’t it?
[21] Actually, this is a common misconception. WARNING! Everyone who is no nature-geek, please stuff your ears. Camels’ humps are not filled with water but with fat. This fat can be used to produce water, but the moisture that is lost during the breathing necessary to produce that water actually means the camel loses more moisture in the process than it wins. So, no secret store of water in the camel, sorry. What really helps the animal to survive in the desert is its extremely efficient usage of the water that it does have.
[22] The best way to render in western letters the word مغفل, which is Arabic for the epithet bestowed by any loving wife on her slow-witted husband at some point: fool.
[23] An Arabic greeting meaning ‘peace be upon you’. A rather optimistic way of greeting Mr Rikkard Ambrose, all things considered.
[24] Son of a Donkey
[25] Eat my Dick
[26] Eat Shit
[27] WARNING! Do not use this vow in real life if you are planning to get married, no matter how much you may be tempted.
[28] The proverb Mr Ambrose refers to here – ‘The road to hell is paved with good intentions’ – originates from various sources, but in its most finished form appears for the first time in John Milton’s Epic Poem Paradise Lost, where he says, ‘Easy is the descent into Hell, for it is paved with good intentions’.
[29] My apologies to Richard Jordan Gatling, the American inventor who in 1862, about twenty years after the events of this novel, invented the Gatling Gun (the first real machine gun). I’m sure that in reality, he was not a front man for a incredibly wealthy, stubborn, close-mouthed and good looking British financier by the name of Rikkard Ambrose. No, definitely not.
[30] In case any of you are wondering if this curse is a bit too modern for a historical novel, it is not. It actually has a very interesting history. When the British invaded India, the Indian currency was called “dam”. It was worth so little compared to a British Pound, that if a British soldier in India wanted to say he didn’t care about something, he’d say, “I don’t give a dam”. The saying travelled, and the spelling was wrongly altered to “I don’t give a damn”. Subsequently, it was made famous by its use in the famous American novel Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell, where the hero charmingly says to the heroine: “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn!” That’s a gentleman for you.
[31] WARNING! Do not use this vow in real life if you are planning to get married, no matter how much you may be tempted.
Robert Thier, In the Eye of the Storm
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