The Mystery of The Shaman's Secret To Be Published Next Week: See Sample Chapters Below

Finally... "The Mystery Of The Shaman's Secret should be available on Amazon, Kindle and other platforms in both paperback and electronic versions by mid-next week.

Since this is an announcement about what is going to happen I thought you'd enjoy seeing the cover as it was pre-proof and, if you're kind enough to buy the book, you'll see the adjustment made to make the cover a bit less crowded.

Below, you'll find chapters one and two.  Don't worry about the unfamiliar names, the cast of characters is not very large and you'll soon find yourself swinging along...

The chapters are also pre-final proof so, if you notice a typo it should be fixed in the final version but, again, I thought it might be fun to see pre-proof.  It's astonishing how much work goes into a book after the "work" is done! 

The setting is Han China, in the first century B.C., and, to begin the book, you will find a brief discussion about the historical figures the story is about.  Most of the major characters actually lived and, the fiction is woven through some actual events in the court of the time.

So, enjoy.  I'll post a Facebook notice when the book actually comes available.

Chapter 1

Crime And Punishment

Jyang Choong sat quietly watching the scene below. From time to time his eyes focused on the shaman but mostly Jyang studied the face of Emperor Wu.

The temple had been especially constructed for this occasion. Looking more barbarian than Chinese, it was shaped like a shallow drinking bowl. The floor of the bowl was bare save for a slightly raised platform in the middle. This platform was small, less than a pace across.

A man stood on the platform. At his feet lay two objects: a small oil lamp and a misshapen lump that had apparently once been molded into the shape of a human being and then buried.

The man stood as erectly and proudly as his wrecked body allowed. The effects of three days at the hands of the prosecutor’s staff of torturers were obvious. The man would never walk properly again even should he survive the ordeal before him and horrible scars would mark him for life; but for now these were the least of the man’s considerations. He stood silently, but gazed at his sovereign with a look of sorrow.

“Are you certain of the charges?” Emperor Wu asked as he watched the shaman perform the chants.

“There can be no doubt, my Emperor,” Jyang Choong answered.

“He was one of my oldest and most trusted advisors,” the Emperor mused. “I find it difficult to believe that he would practice wu-gu. Why would he be attracted to the evil magic?”

“There can be no doubt,” Jyang repeated.

The Emperor’s throne was located at the north rim of the bowl. Various functionaries of the court were seated at different points around the depression. All looked down intently at the man below.

The shaman continued his chants for a time and then suddenly stopped. He walked to a point in front of the Emperor, then prostrated himself. “The man has not practiced wu-gu,” the shaman proclaimed.

The Emperor glared at Jyang.

“You find no fault with the man?” Jyang called out.

“There is an emanation of evil,” the shaman answered, “but my efforts fail to detect what the man has done.”

“What of chu-tsu shang?” Jyang asked.

A muffled gasp from the crowd followed the question; Chu-tsu shang, cursing the Emperor, calling down spirits to do harm to the exalted body, was as heinous a crime as a man could commit.

“NO!” The shout echoed through the temple. “My Lord Ruler knows of my faithful service. Do not dishonor my life and my death by such a charge.” These were the first words the proud man on the platform had spoken in three days.

The Emperor turned to Jyang.

“You go too far,” the Emperor hissed, fire flashing in his eyes. “He has been my faithful servant since his birth. I cannot believe that of him.”

“Let the shaman test him then,” Jyang Choong answered, loudly enough for all to hear. “If he passes the test, there is no dishonor, for he will have been proven loyal. The dishonor will then be mine and I will take his place on the platform and his place in death.”

“You are so sure?” the Emperor asked.

“I am,” Jyang answered.

“Let it be done.” The Emperor nodded to the shaman who quickly re­sumed his place in front of the prisoner. The chants began.

The Emperor turned back to Jyang. “You risk everything?” he asked.

“I risk nothing,” Jyang replied. “I exist to serve the Emperor. If I serve well, I live. If not, I die.” The Emperor, inured to empty flattery, gazed quizzi­cally at Jyang, but said nothing. Both men turned to watch the scene below.

The shaman was from north of the Great Wall, in the eyes of most of the Emperor’s retinue, a foreigner. His clothing was dirty, barbaric in cut, and covered with strange designs. He whirled and twirled, here and there, mouthing strange words never before heard in the capital city of the Han. No one noticed him motion to a serving boy stationed at the top of the stairway leading from the bottom of the bowl shaped temple to the top. The serving boy signaled back, then nodded to his master below. The shaman embarked on a particularly vigorous series of moves, then froze in place, a wild, keening cry coming from his lips. His hands pointed to the prisoner in the center of the cleared space. All eyes focused on the shaman and on the object of his cry.

The shaman’s keening wail seemed to go on forever. The watchers won­dered to themselves how a man could utter such a noise and keep doing it for so long. Soon, all in the audience found themselves almost involuntarily leaning forward, hypnotized by the awful sound. Suddenly, when it appeared that the cry could go on no longer without something snapping in the old man’s throat, there came a loud “WOOMP” and the entire floor of the temple seemed to have ignited in an explosive rush of heat and fire.

Instinctively the crowd drew back. Then, as individuals within it gathered their wits, the crowd surged forward towards what appeared to be a magical flame remaining after the initial explosion.

The Emperor was among the startled onlookers straining towards the platform. Only Jyang Choong remained seated, a slight smile playing on his lips. After a short time the prisoner ceased to scream.

Chapter 2

An Emperor Under Threat

The braver members of the crowd edged toward but then quickly fell back from the charred corpse, covering dainty noses with kerchiefs, sleeves or whatever was close at hand. A peculiar, bitter-sour smell could be detected in the air. It mixed with the disconcertingly pleasant roast pork- like odor of burning human flesh. The shaman and the prosecutor exchanged glances as the latter at last rose from his seat and moved forward to the Emperor’s side.

“So,” the Emperor muttered, “he was indeed guilty. The conspirators multiply as I grow older.” The Emperor Wu, Lord of all that was Civilized Under Heaven, the literal representative of Heaven on earth, seemed to age as he spoke these bitter words. His cheeks sank inward and his skin paled beneath the sheen of sweat evoked by the mysterious holy fire.

The chief prosecutor took this in. Jyang was a large, fleshy man, still in the vigor of middle age. Taking care to mask from his voice the contempt of the still young for the ineffectually old, the chief prosecutor sought to soothe his sovereign.

“Such is the price of success, Your Majesty,” he said. “Always there are those who would plot the fall of the One who sustains us. But happily there are weapons against those men of evil. Your Majesty’s enemies will continue to be confounded, for I have found a means of detecting the black magic men of darkness would use against the royal person. So long as I stand by the side of the Emperor, no man may practice such evil against him.”

“Most impressive,” Emperor Wu replied, regaining his emotional balance and directing a sharp glance at his chief prosecutor. The demands of power had long since taught the Emperor to mistrust even those closest to him. The just concluded lesson had only reinforced this mistrust. The chief prosecutor’s methods were indeed powerful but such power brought with it threats to the Emperor.

“You and your agents have done well. I suppose you are right. This sort of thing is inevitable. That damnable Chen woman tried the wu-gu magic on me when I was little more than a boy. That was nearly forty years ago, but my…