1993, and my final year at University. Two years previously, I had entered a short story competition. I hadn't got anywhere, but they sent me another entry form so I decided to try again. I was still in the process of experimenting with different genres and so I thought, why not do a fantasy story? I began planning the outline as a basic Princess, curse, fight wizard. As the story developed, I realised that I could have a fantastic twist at the end, because the plot so fitted in with something else. I can't say what here because it would spoil the surprise.
  I have always been pleased with this story and it has only needed slight alterations over the years. I still didn't get anywhere in the competition, but the story was almost shortlisted, and that encouraged me to continue. I'm not sure when I made the connection between this story and T'Tenneb, but one day I must have suddenly just thought, 'The Amulet and the Sword are both Treasures of the Universe!' These ideas hit me like that, quite often just as I am walking along not thinking about anything in particular. I usually giggle with delight when it happens. After that, I began to wonder what other Treasures there were.
  So, here we are. The opening paragraphs of the story that started out as an exercise in writing, but confirmed me in the fantasy realm and spawned a whole collection.


  Nemril leaned against a tree at the edge of a clearing, a pile of assorted weapons at his feet, and carefully watched the duel that was in progress. He had come across the engagement as he had been making his way back to the castle and decided that his return could wait a little longer. It had obviously been a long fight, both competitors sweating and breathing heavily as their swords clashed. The blades flashed in a circular movement and one flew into the air, then fell to the ground, embedding its point in the centre of the clearing.
  Prince Mark grinned with triumph, his sword pointed at his opponent who was now desperately looking around for some way out of the embarrassing position of admitting defeat.
  Nemril saw this and reacted by grabbing a sword from the collection at his feet and throwing it, hilt first, across the clearing.
  "Viviane." He shouted.
  The Princess looked up, and seeing the sword falling towards her, stretched out her hand. She neatly caught the sword and brandished it aloft as thanks to Nemril before joining the fight again with her brother.
  Mark, caught off guard with surprise, was driven backwards into the clearing. He parried half a dozen strokes before he managed to shout "Truce."
  Viviane lowered her sword.
  "Agreed," she said, "Are you afraid to be beaten by your little sister?"
  "No!" Mark protested, "I violated one of the major codes of knighthood, 'Never underestimate your opponent.'" He walked  over and  pulled  the third sword out of the ground, "Where did you learn that trick?"
  Viviane grinned as she and her brother walked towards Nemril.
  "Nemril and I had been practising it for some weeks."
  "But," Nemril warned, "You would have lost if I had not been there. Do not expect to win all your fights that way."
  "I shall just have to take you to all my fights then."
  Viviane suddenly flung her arms around Nemril and hugged him.
  "I am glad you are back at last." she said, "It has been a long two months."
  "It has," Mark agreed, "The castle has been dull since you left so secretly. Are we allowed to know where you have been?"
  "Let me just say that I have been on family business, of a sort."
  Nemril would say no more. The Prince and Princess did not ask.

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