Ben Kane

The Silver Eagle has been out for nearly two weeks now, and it’s selling really well I’m glad to say. Amazon started selling it a week before the release date, and it notched up over 700 copies that week, entering the bestseller charts at no. 22. The second week (first ‘official’ week) it also sold over 700 copies, and I have to find out later this week how it’s doing now. It’s all good though. Ediciones B, the Spanish publisher of The Forgotten Legion (La Legion Olvidada!) has bought The Silver Eagle as well, which is good news.

And so to a competition. No amazing cars, foreign holidays or cash prizes, I’m afraid. I’m offering two copies of The Silver Eagle – first edition, in pristine condition, signed and lined and dated by me. Something to put in the cupboard and flog in a few years (just to give you an idea – similar copies of The Forgotten Legion are aleady selling for £50. I know, I’m gobsmacked too!). So the two lucky people who win a copy might have a book worth something in the future.

ONLY the people who have subscribed to the site can enter the competition, and let’s keep this fair. Please don’t email the details to all your friends. I’d like to do right by you guys/gals and want you to do the same by me. You’re also far more likely to win if less people enter!

Check the ‘Free Stuff’ page for the competition…

Also check out the ‘Events’ page to see where I’m appearing over the summer. A new date just in is the 12th of July at Caerleon Roman fortress.

Two days until The Silver Eagle is released, and I’m delighted to announce that my idea for a new trilogy has been bought by Preface, my publishers. Titled Soldier of Carthage, Legionary and The Final Battle, they will be released in 2011, 2012 and 2013 respectively. The trilogy will feature young Roman and Carthaginian protagonists and follow their lives against the dramatic clash between Hannibal and the might of Rome. The Punic wars has always been an area of interest for me, so it gives me particular satisfaction to be planning to write about even one of them.

I attended the York Roman Festival last week, a great event organised for the last 7 years solely by a great guy called Keith Mulhearn. Thanks to Keith for having me there. I talked to an assorted crowd of reenactors and bemused tourists about Romans, their army and my books for about half an hour and didn’t seem to bore too many of them. A quick book signing in the local Borders bookshop followed – thanks to Rayner Gill and his staff – and then I popped back to the Roman camp for a few scoops and a chat with Keith and the reenactors. It was fantastic and I learned a whole load more about Roman kit by handling a ballista, a medical kit etc. etc. Roll on Chedworth villa and Kelmarsh I say!

 

And so to the last part of the first chapter of The Silver Eagle. Although its release date isn’t until June 4th, I see that Amazon and other internet sites are already selling it. Why, I have no idea! The book trade is still an unknown world to me. Anyway, for those of you who haven’t yet got your copy, here’s another little taster…

A long half-hour passed. The temperature, which had been hovering just below freezing all day, fell much further. Using a stockpile of timber left there for the purpose, the Parthian warriors fed the blazing fire until it was the height of a man. While a few stood guard on a perimeter roughly thirty paces out, the remainder hunched around it, talking between themselves. Few even glanced at Romulus and Brennus, the interlopers.

The two friends stamped up and down, doing their best to keep warm. It was a futile battle. Still they felt no inclination to join the Parthians, whose attitude towards them was at best contemptuous. Brennus fell into a deep reverie about his future while Romulus studied the jackal, hoping to understand its reasons for staying. His efforts were in vain. Finally the animal stood up, shook itself in a leisurely manner and trotted off to the south. It was lost to sight instantly.

Later, Romulus would remember the timing with awe.

‘Gods above,’ muttered Brennus, his teeth chattering. ‘I hope Tarquinius is done soon. Otherwise we’re going to have to join those bastards by the fire.’

‘He won’t be long,’ Romulus replied confidently. ‘Pacorus has reached the end of his tether with him.’

Everyone in the Forgotten Legion knew that when their commander lost his temper, men were executed.

‘The prick’s been looking twitchy,’ agreed Brennus, counting the Parthians for the umpteenth time. There are too many of them, he decided. ‘Probably order us all killed next. Shame the jackal didn’t stick around to help, eh?’

Romulus was about to reply when his gaze fell on the two furthest sentries. Wraithlike figures had appeared behind them, bearing long knives. He watched disbelievingly for a heartbeat before opening his mouth to shout a warning. But it was too late. The Parthians toppled backwards and out of sight, silent sprays of red jetting from their cut throats.

None of their companions noticed.

‘To arms!’ Romulus roared. ‘We are under attack from the east!’

Alarmed, the other warriors scrambled to their feet, reaching for their weapons and staring out into the pitch darkness.

From it, fearsome yells rose into the freezing air.

Brennus was beside Romulus in an instant. ‘Wait,’ he cautioned. ‘Don’t move yet.’

‘They’re spot lit by the fire,’ said Romulus, understanding.

‘Fools,’ muttered Brennus.

The first arrows descended as they watched. Fired from beyond the firelight, they fell in a dense, deadly rain. A perfectly laid ambush, it was bizarrely beautiful to watch. More than half the Parthians were killed outright by the volley, and several others were wounded. The remainder frantically grabbed their bows and loosed shaft after blind shaft in response.

Romulus raised his silk-covered scutum and was about to race forward, but Brennus’ great paw stopped him again. ‘Tarquinius…’ he protested.

‘Is safe underground for the moment.’ [Read more…] about Fri. 29th May: York Roman Festival & Silver Eagle excerpt

I hope this keeps the tension up. Or maybe it’s just annoying! I’m aiming to have published the whole first chapter by the publication date of The Silver Eagle.

As I said before the last excerpt, DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN’T FINISHED THE FORGOTTEN LEGION!

The party of guards fanned out, planting their torches in specially placed gaps in the paving stones. An ash-filled ring fireplace was evidence that they, or others, had stood here before. Romulus was still amazed by the manner of Pacorus’ and Tarquinius’ disappearance. He had noticed the large, shaped slabs but not fully appreciated that they formed an entrance. Now, with the whole scene relatively well lit, Romulus saw the carved drawings on either side of the hole. Excited, he began to understand. This was a temple, to Mithras.

And Tarquinius seemed sure that something would be revealed inside.

Desperate to know more, he moved to follow the haruspex, but half a dozen Parthians blocked his way.

‘Nobody else goes down there,’ growled one. ‘The Mithraeum is hallowed ground. Filth such as you are not welcome.’

‘All men are equal in Mithras’ eyes,’ Romulus challenged, remembering what Tarquinius had told him. ‘And I am a soldier.’

The Parthian looked nonplussed. ‘The commander decides who may enter,’ he barked eventually. ‘And you two weren’t mentioned.’

‘So we just wait?’ demanded Romulus, his temper rising.

‘That’s right,’ replied the warrior, taking a step forward. Several of the others copied him, their hands falling to their quivers. ‘We all stay here until Pacorus says so. Clear?’ [Read more…] about Sun. 17th May: Another excerpt from The Silver Eagle

I’ve had a couple of emails from readers asking when I’m doing book signings for The Silver Eagle, which has prompted me to put them on the website. Hope to see you there!

Sat. 23rd May, York Roman Festival. At 5pm, I’ll be giving a 30-40 min. talk about my writing at the Living Camp, and then doing a signing at the nearby Borders bookshop.

Thurs. 4th June, Toppings Bookshop, Bath. At 7.30pm, I’ll again be doing a 20-30 min. talk, about The Silver Eagle this time, and a signing afterwards.

Sat. 13th June, Waterstone’s Bath. 12-2pm. I’ll be doing a book signing.

Sat. 20th June, Waterstone’s Cribbs Causeway. 1-3pm. A book signing.

Sun. 21st June, Chedworth Roman Villa, Glos. 12 midday. A short talk and book signing.

Sun. 26th July, Kelmarsh Hall, Northants. English History Festival of Living History – the biggest reenactment weekend in the UK, with Roman soldiers, Crusaders, Roundheads and Royalists. 100,000 people attend this event. Time 2pm. A 30-40 min. talk and book signing.

Library talks in June/July very likely – Swindon, Downend (nr. Bristol), Poole and Clevedon.

As more events come in and times become definite, I’ll add them on…

As quite a few readers are now registering on the site, I thought I’d try my ability to get things moving on the ‘new’ items on here. Here’s a little snippet from The Silver Eagle, which is being published on the 4th of June in the UK…

 DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN’T FINISHED THE FORGOTTEN LEGION!

Chapter I: The Mithraeum

 

Eastern Margiana, winter 53/52 BC

 

A good mile from the fort, the Parthians finally came to a halt. When the steady crunch of boots and sandals on frosty ground ceased, an overwhelming silence descended. Quiet coughs and the jingle of mail fell away, absorbed by the freezing air. Darkness had not quite fallen, allowing Romulus to take in their destination: a nondescript cliff face of weathered, grey-brown rocks which formed the end of a range of low hills. Peering into the gathering gloom, the powerfully built young soldier tried to see what had brought the warriors here. There were no buildings or structures in sight, and the winding path they had been following appeared to come to a dead end at the cliff’s foot. Raising an eyebrow, he turned to Brennus, his friend and surrogate father. ‘What in Jupiter’s name are we doing here?’

‘Tarquinius knows something,’ grunted Brennus, hunching his great shoulders under his thick military cloak. ‘As usual.’

‘But he won’t tell us!’ Romulus cupped his hands and blew on them, trying to prevent his fingers and face from going completely numb. His aquiline nose already was.

‘It’ll come out eventually,’ the pigtailed Gaul replied, chuckling.

Romulus’ protest died away. His eagerness would not speed things up. Patience, he thought.

Against their skin, the two men wore cloth jerkins. Over these, standard issue mail shirts. While affording good protection against blades, the heavy iron rings constantly drained away their body heat. Woollen cloaks and scarves and the felt liners under their bronze bowl crested helmets helped a little, but their calf-length russet trousers and heavy studded caligae, or sandals, exposed too much flesh to allow any comfort.

‘Go and ask him,’ urged Brennus with a grin. ‘Before our balls drop off.’

Romulus smiled.

They had both demanded an explanation from the Etruscan haruspex when he’d appeared in their fuggy barrack room a short time earlier. Typically, Tarquinius gave away little, but he had muttered something about a special request from Pacorus, their commander. And the chance of seeing if there was a way out of Margiana. Unwilling to let their friend go off alone, the pair also jumped at the chance of some information.

The last few months had provided a welcome break from the constant fighting of the previous two years. Gradually, however, their life in a Roman fort turned into a numbing routine. Physical training followed guard duty; the repair of equipment replaced parade drill. Occasional patrols provided little in the way of excitement. Even the tribes which raided Margiana did not campaign in winter weather. Tarquinius’ offer therefore seemed heaven-sent.

Yet Romulus’ purpose tonight was more than simple thrill-seeking. He was desperate for even the briefest mention of Rome. The city of his birth now lay on the other side of the world, with thousands of miles of harsh landscape and hostile peoples in between. Was there any chance he might return there one day? Like nearly all his comrades, Romulus dreamt of that possibility day and night. Here, at the ends of the earth, there was nothing else to hold on to, and this unexplained excursion might provide a sliver of hope.

‘I’ll wait,’ he replied at length. ‘After all, we volunteered to come.’ He stamped resignedly from foot to foot. Suspended by a leather carrying strap, his elongated oval shield, or scutum, swung off his shoulder with the movement. ‘And you’ve seen the mood Pacorus is in. He’d probably cut my balls off for just asking. They’re better freezing.’

A laugh rumbled in Brennus’ throat. [Read more…] about Sun. 3rd May: An excerpt from The Silver Eagle