Hold on to your tunic and truncheon in this action-filled adventure - Kirkus Reviews

ESCAPE TO PONTI

A THRILLING ADVENTURE

BRIAN SLATTERY

Illustrations by

Antonio Javier Caparo

Chapter 1

The branding iron hissed and spat in the burning coals, giving off angry wisps of smoke. Bec shrank into the corner, the bonds on his wrists and ankles biting into the skin.

The blacksmith drew the iron from the flames and held it up, then shook his head. He tapped it against the forge to knock off the crust and slid it back into the fire.

“Not ready yet?”

The blacksmith looked at the lean figure lounging by the wall.

“No, milord.”

“How hot does it have to get?”

“White hot, milord.”

Malaspina’s gaze shifted to Bec.

“Why? He’s just a boy. Tender skin.”

“If it’s not hot enough, it will take too long.”

“The longer the better. Let him feel it.”

“But it has to be quick, milord. Otherwise, the slave will thrash around and spoil the brand.”

Malaspina stared at the blacksmith, the flames from the forge flickering in his eyes.

“All right,” he said softly. “Have it your way. Just get on with it.”

“Yes, milord.”

The blacksmith gave a word to the man working the bellows and waited as the forge rose to a steady roar. Waves of heat rolled across the room, but Bec felt deathly cold.

The smith took another look at the branding iron—now an incandescent white.

“Ready, milord.”

“And about time.” Malaspina nodded to his bodyguard. “Take the boy outside. Everyone’s waiting.”

Nozzo released the bonds on Bec’s ankles and dragged him upright. His feet were like blocks of wood. He stumbled on the uneven floor and pitched forward, hands tied behind his back. He came down hard, his head striking the flagstones.

He lay there unmoving.

“Get him up,” said Malaspina, pointing with his cane.

Nozzo glanced at his master. He untied the ropes on Bec’s wrists and rolled him over, shaking him by the shoulder.

Bec let his head loll to the side, tracking the man through half-closed lids.

The bodyguard knelt down and held a hand in front of the boy’s mouth, then sat back on his heels, rubbing his shaved head. “He’s not breathing.”

“Slap him about.”

As Nozzo raised a hand, Bec rolled away and scrambled for the door.

The courtyard outside was packed with people summoned for the branding—servants, stable boys, slaves. They fell silent as Bec stumbled through the doorway. He plunged into the crowd, which parted to make way, then shuffled back into place, hiding him. Bec fell to his knees and crawled through the forest of legs, heading for the castle gate.

He heard Malaspina shout: “Drop the portcullis!”

Bec came to a halt, biting his lip. He’d never reach the gate in time. He reversed course and made for the lord’s living quarters on the other side of the yard. He didn’t know that part of the castle well, but it was his only chance.

“Where’s the slave?” called Malaspina.

“Over there! There! There!” People pointed in all directions except the right one.

Bec spotted a wall ahead, then a narrow opening. He scuttled inside, finding a staircase that wound upward in semi-darkness. He climbed for what seemed like an eternity. At the top, he pushed open a door and entered a day-room—polished table, carpet, tapestries. A small book lay open on the table. The place was deserted.

Across the room was an open window, white curtains fluttering in the breeze.

He climbed onto the windowsill and leaned out, one hand gripping the side. Far below, dark shoals of sewage drifted in the moat where the privies emptied. The water was shallow—just a few feet deep—not enough to break his fall. It would be crazy to jump.

He turned his gaze upward, scanning the wall that rose to the battlements above. The castle was made of fieldstones, fitted roughly together. In places, the mortar had crumbled, leaving a network of cracks and crevices where the swallows flitted in and out. He wondered if he could climb all the way up. If he slipped, he’d be dead.

He recalled the branding he’d seen last winter—an old slave who had shrieked and struggled as they’d pinned him down. The smell of burning flesh still gave him nightmares.

No choice.

Bec wedged his foot into a gap in the stonework and pushed himself upward, grasping the narrow ledge on top of the window. He manoeuvred around until his knee found the ledge. He teetered there, grimacing as the rough stone pressed against the bone. A gust of wind caught his tunic and almost threw him off balance. He clung to the wall, breathing hard, then hoisted himself into a standing position on the ledge.

Behind him, he could sense a vast open space, billowing out across the valley. It sucked at his body, tugging at his limbs. The backs of his thighs tingled, as if a thousand ants were crawling there. He closed his eyes and held on grimly, while the wall seemed to sway back and forth.

Taking a deep breath, he groped upward and came across a hole with a bird’s nest. He pushed the nest further inside, setting off a storm of cheeps. Baby swallows.

“Sorry, fellows!”

The mother swallow attacked him so suddenly that Bec yelped and nearly let go. The bird swooped around, making piercing cries, diving at him again and again. Bec hunched his shoulders as the wings thrashed against his head. He gently swatted at the bird, until she gave up and flew away.

That was better.

Bec wiped his palms on his tunic, one by one, then muttered a prayer and started dragging himself upward. His hands moved shakily from gap to gap, the muscles in his arms straining.

An outcrop crumbled under his right foot. His body dropped and his legs swung free. He hung from his fingertips, his feet flailing around.

A crack in the wall—just big enough.

God and all the saints! That was close. He flattened himself against the wall, chest heaving.

A head emerged from the window below.

Malaspina.

Bec held his breath. The man leaned out, looking down toward the moat.

There was still a chance. Bec eyed the dense patch of ivy that separated him from the battlements above. Quietly he slid his hand into the leaves and felt around for something solid.

Sweat streamed down his forehead, making his eyes sting. He blinked the sweat away and tugged at a thick vine. The branch lost its moorings and Bec swung out, almost falling. He clutched another vine, which held. Some leaves fluttered down into Malaspina’s field of vision. Bec scrabbled for a foothold and thrust himself upward.

“Stop!”

Bec grabbed the edge of the battlements and hauled himself over, tumbling onto the inner walkway. He crouched there, thinking feverishly. He could hear Malaspina shouting as he raised the alarm.

The stables in back. His best chance.

He raced along the battlements to the rear of the castle enclosure. A wooden staircase on the inside of the wall led to a platform halfway down. He paused there, gazing about.

Not a soul in sight. Everyone was up front for the show—the branding of the slave. But there wouldn’t be a show today—not if he could help it.

He lowered himself over the edge of the platform and dropped onto the roof of the kennels. Crawling to the front, he peered into the pen below. The dogs were pressed against the outer fence, yapping and baying, roused by the shouts spreading through the castle.

“Hey fellows,” he said. “It’s me.”

The dogs stopped barking and turned to look, ears raised.

Bec leapt down into the pen. The dogs gambolled over, ready to play, licking his hands, pawing at his legs.

“Not now, my friends. Not now.”

He pushed through the dogs, ruffling their fur.

“Good dog, Apollo. Down, Lupo, down.”

He slipped out the gate and dashed across the narrow yard to the stables, where he eased open the door and peered into the long dim space.

No one there.

The horses nickered as they caught his scent. He crept past the stalls, quietly calling out their names.

He opened the shutters at the end and clambered onto the windowsill, gazing at the scummy surface of the moat a few feet below.

The door creaked. Bec spun around.

A figure stood there, black against the sunlit yard. A blade glinted in his hand.

“Don’t move,” said Malaspina. “Or I’ll cut you down.”

Bec stared at the man, momentarily paralyzed. Then a horse whinnied and kicked at its stall, and the spell was broken.

He sprang out over the moat, limbs splayed like a frog. There was a huge splash as he landed on his belly in the filthy water. Gasping for breath, he struggled to the other side and hauled himself up.

The forest was only yards away.

Interview with Brian

What was the inspiration for this book?

How did you begin to craft the narrative?

I have no clue where the inspiration for this book came from – although I’ve wanted to write an adventure story from the time I was a teenager, scribbling ideas and scenes in various notebooks. I only know that one day I got the idea for a tale in which several characters took parallel journeys along a pilgrimage route, weaving in and out of each other’s lives at various points along the way. I knew from the start that one of the characters would be a young slave escaping from his vicious master, because he undoubtedly had a good story to tell, and that another character would be a world-class martial artist, because I had long been under the spell of Bruce Lee and Jet Li. I also knew that the story would take place in medieval times, because it needed a setting in which there were no cars or trains or planes, much less cell-phones, televisions or computers. Other than that, I didn’t have a very clear idea where the novel would go and just started to write.

Somehow the story took off on its own, leading me along many a winding path and sometimes over precipices. Characters popped out of nowhere and took on surprising attributes and did surprising things. They became so numerous and lively that they threatened to sink the entire enterprise, so I had to put some into cold storage. The plot itself became quite twisty and complicated and also had to be pared down. But the basic kernel of the story has remained the same throughout. The result, for better or worse, is what you have in front of you.

Bec and Tien Nu are both going on a journey to Ponti, although for different reasons. Have your own travels helped you in developing this story?

I cut my teeth on long-distance hiking in my twenties, as a volunteer working with refugees in Tanzania – a place that I fell in love with and lived for some six years. Almost every holiday was devoted to hitch-hiking around the countries of East and Central Africa. I often spent as much time trudging along dusty roads as I did getting lifts, due to the scarcity of traffic. Along the way, I met any number of friendly and generous people, who shared with me their life stories and whatever else they had to offer in the way of food and accommodation. I was impressed by their optimism and irrepressible good humour in the face of adversity, and by the stories and adventures they related. I also had a few adventures of my own, some of which have found their way into this book. However, I’m sorry to say that I’ve never been chased cross-country by a vicious psychopath, nor have I killed a lion while armed only with a knife.

More recently, I’ve done a good deal of hiking in northern Italy with various family members, and I’m currently in the midst of a long-distance hike by stages along the Via Francigena, which runs from Canterbury to Rome. All this hodge-podge of experience has been poured into the stew that forms this book – which hopefully makes it more savory rather than simply indigestible.

Tien Nu is a superb acrobat, well versed in kung fu, and Bec demonstrates his enthusiasm for tumbling and daring feats. How has your own background in the martial arts supported these aspects of characterization?

My book is indebted to the great martial artists of Hong Kong and China, such as Bruce Lee, Donnie Yen, Jackie Chan, Michelle Yeoh, and Jet Li, whose remarkable athleticism has expanded our notions of what the human body and spirit are capable of. I was also influenced by Mark Salzman’s wonderful book, Iron and Silk, which describes his experiences as a martial artist in China. My training in Tae Kwon Do under the tutelage of Master Chris Park has made me keenly aware of how difficult it is to reach the levels attained by Tien Nu, who makes it all look easy. It also taught me the first rule in street-fighting – run like hell!

Historical fiction has the advantage of bringing readers into new and surprising settings, while also telling a good story. Can you talk about how you balance these two goals—crafting a setting, and telling a story? And can you recommend any other titles that readers of Escape to Ponti would enjoy?

My novel stands in a long line of historical adventure tales, in which strict factual accuracy has never been allowed to get in the way of a good story. The strongest influence throughout has been Robert Louis Stevenson, whose novels, Treasure Island and Kidnapped, have been a constant source of inspiration. No less important has been Alexandre Dumas’ classic work, The Three Musketeers, as well as the ever-green tales of Robin Hood, as related superbly by Rosemary Sutcliff in The Chronicles of Robin Hood, all of which I devoured when I was young and have returned to many times over the years. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle is well known for his Sherlock Holmes stories, but his tales of exploits of Brigadier Girard are just as good – both funny and exciting. I’ve also learned much from the martial arts stories of Louis Cha, such as The Deer and the Cauldron, with their distinctive blend of the natural and the supernatural, and their strong vein of comedy. The engrossing novels by Michelle Paver have left their marks on my own work, notably the two series: Wolf Brother and Gods and Warriors. Last but not least, I am indebted to the historical novels of Arturo Pérez-Reverte, especially Captain Alatriste and its successors, which feature a striking array of heroes and villains and darkly gripping plots.

Both Bec and Tien Nu think a great deal about their parentage—Bec hoping to discover the name of the father he never knew, and Tien Nu grappling with guilt over his own father’s untimely death. What was the impetus to include this preoccupation for both characters? And did you consciously involve the Knight as a character who would have similar experiences of discovery and guilt?

Actually the story came to me first; the themes, such as they are, emerged later. It was only when I was deep into the writing did it dawn on me how certain common elements could be found in the inner journeys of my characters. I suppose a more savvy writer would have noticed this from the start, but I was writing from the gut, struggling to put into words feelings and ideas that I found gripping and enthralling and appalling. At a certain point, my characters took over and forged ahead on their own – with me just tagging along, trying to keep up. At no point did I consciously intend to explore any particular themes or to advance certain ideas. Whether any such themes run through the story – and what they might signify – is a matter for each reader to discover on their own.

The novel takes place in medieval times, yet the characters speak like modern people. Why did you decide to take this approach?

In reality, the characters in the novel would have spoken a local version of medieval Italian, which obviously wouldn’t work in the book. I could have made a stab at “medieval-speak”, the antique-sounding English that some authors employ, but to my ear this has the effect of making the characters seem formal and stiff and quaint, if not downright comical, which gives the reader entirely the wrong impression. Normal medieval speech was just as informal and flexible and salty as modern English. I wanted readers to relate to the characters without the obstacle posed by antiquated language, and so I’ve used a neutral version of modern English, with a few Italian words thrown in, while avoiding any distinctively contemporary expressions. I hope that Bec and Tien Nu and the Knight sound nearly as fresh and lively to modern readers as they would have sounded to one another.

Is the setting of the novel imaginary, or is it based on real places?

The novel is set in the province of Liguria in northern Italy during the late Middle Ages, when the famous Silk Roads (and sea routes) between China, the Middle East, and the West were flourishing. The river that features in the novel is based on the Magra river, which runs southward into the Mediterranean not far from the modern city of La Spezia. But many features of the river and its surroundings have been changed – and the reader will look in vain for the towns of Montecavo and Ponti. Nevertheless, large parts of this region were actually controlled by members of the powerful Malaspina family, who built a number of important castles there – even if Adolfo Malaspina and the Castello Scarmagno are creatures of my imagination. The valley of the Magra river was a major route for medieval pilgrims travelling southward to Rome, and the same route forms part of the modern trail known as the Via Francigena, which starts at Canterbury Cathedral in England, traverses France and the Alps, and descends through northern Italy to St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome.

Tien Nu comes from a family with roots in China, Persia and Egypt, and Bec’s maternal family stems from Circassia on the Black Sea. Could two boys with such different backgrounds actually have met in medieval Italy?

There was a significant amount of East-West travel in the late medieval period, as exemplified by the Venetian merchant, Marco Polo, the Berber scholar and explorer, Ibn Battuta, and the great Chinese Admiral, Zheng He, all of whom embarked on voyages that encompassed large portions of the Eurasian and African continents and their surrounding seas. So it’s no great stretch to suppose that the wanderings of Tien Nu and his father brought them to Venice, which had extensive trading relations with Alexandria and other Middle Eastern ports. For those interested, I’d recommend the fascinating work of Janet L. Abu-Lughod, Before European Hegemony: The World System A.D. 1250-1350, and Peter Frankopan’s sweeping book, The Silk Roads: A New History of the World.

Slaves were not uncommon in northern Italy at this era, even if the absolute numbers were not great. Some of these slaves came from regions bordering on the Black Sea – such as Circassia, where Bec’s mother and grandmother were captured and taken for sale to Genoa, eventually ending up in the Malaspina household. For a good general account see the Wikipedia article, “Slavery in medieval Europe”. Scholarly works include Hannah Barker’s book, That Most Precious Merchandise: The Mediterranean Trade in Black Sea Slaves, 1260-1500, and the massive study by Charles Verlinden, L’Esclavage dans l’Europe médiévale.

Praise for Escape to Ponti

Hold on to your tunic and truncheon in this action-filled adventure. A boy in medieval Italy flees his cruel master and strikes out for freedom. Faced with being publicly branded by Malaspina, his bad-tempered master, 14-year-old Bec musters his wits, strength, and agility for a daring escape to the forest, planning to make his way south to Ponti. Bec, whose mother has died and whose father is unknown, counts horses and dogs as his best companions and is prepared to make the perilous journey alone. But a chance encounter with a black-haired boy wearing a gold earring results in the two renegades deciding to travel together. Tien Nu, whose Chinese father came from Samarkand and whose mother came from “Alessandria” in “Africa,” is an entertainer who juggles and tumbles—and he carries a heavy secret. Tien Nu teaches Bec some tricks of his trade as they get lost in mysterious tunnels, perform acrobatics and illusions at a wedding, and stay just a few steps ahead of Malaspina, who’s placed a bounty on Bec’s head. Short chapters keep the story moving, with narrow escapes, a dead body, and several bloody battles along the way, while family mysteries are untangled more gently. The characters speak in a casual, modern style, which occasionally distracts but overall reads well. Caparo’s beautifully detailed graphite pencil and digital illustrations add to the enjoyment. —

Kirkus Reviews, 5 January 2024

In the late Middle Ages in northern Italy, fourteen-year-old Bec must fend for himself without any family. Animals take to him, and he works as a stable hand for a brutal local ruler, Malaspina. The story opens as Malaspina orders his blacksmith to scorch Bec with a hot branding iron and thereby forever signify that Bec is enslaved to Malaspina. Bec evades the iron and sets out for the fictional city of Ponti, ruled by an adversary of Malaspina. Malaspina and his henchmen give chase and offer a reward for Bec’s capture. Soon Bec teams up with another lad, Tien Nu, a superb martial artist and son of a recently deceased circus acrobat.

The two boys experience a lifetime of adventures packed into a period of about a week. They discover an empty old village, a convent run by an abbess who helps them, perilous caves and tunnels, a trickily calm but then wild river, and walls they must cling to or scale. They run into a giant wild boar, a pack of ravaging dogs, nasty feral cats, even a prowling lion. The two boys encounter robbers, innkeepers who want Malaspina’s reward, and a caravan of pilgrims also on their way to Ponti and beyond. The pilgrims are escorted by a mysterious old knight with his own backstory.

Well-done and informative illustrations break up the 63 fast-paced short chapters. An author’s note explains that the modern dialogue was intended to keep the characters sounding “fresh and lively.” The back cover says the book is for ages 11+. Readers of all ages looking for nonstop action in medieval times will enjoy this journey to Ponti.

Historical Novel Society, November 2024

Reviewed by G.J. Berger

The battles come fast and furious in this picaresque story. Teen-aged Bec is a boy determined to escape from his evil slave master, and with the help of a kung fu wizard, and a mysterious knight, the author provides all the key ingredients for a rollicking good adventure. —

Christine Welldon is the acclaimed author of Knight of the Rails and Kid Sterling

Escape to Ponti is a rich, classically-influenced, well-researched, and multi-layered novel that never ceases to draw the reader in with its adventurous plots and intriguing studies in character. Every person in the story—the boys, the Knight, castle lords, peasants, bandits, and servants—are richly portrayed as both complex and archetypical, none completely good nor evil. Bec is resilient, strong, and inquisitive. Tien Nu (referred to as a “Tartar” but, in fact, of Chinese origin) is disciplined, loyal, and playful. The Knight, the most fascinating character, harbours a certain darkness that he tries to shake but which occasionally shows up as violence ... Even the various bandits they encounter are portrayed as something well beyond villains. ... A deep web of (largely male) relationships showcase layers of loyalty, rivalry, negotiation, honour, and mutual dependence, with only occasional female characters such as the wise and independent Abbess at a convent in which the boys take refuge. While the local geography is largely fictional (there is no city of Ponti), the portrayal of a cosmopolitan medieval world is eye-opening, especially Tien Nu’s origin—born in Samarkand (in modern Uzbekistan), raised in Alessandria (Egypt), travelling the Mediterranean with his father as circus performers. The loss of Tien Nu’s father in a tightrope fall, which Tien Nu initially blames on himself but realizes in a dream was an accident, is particularly poignant, and his practice of a martial art called quan fa is fascinating. Dry humour is even sprinkled throughout, seen in particular with the quan fa move known as Ring the Temple Bells (a kick in the testicles, which Bec learns to use against his enemies). Occasional Italian curse words and expressions also add to the authenticity, and even names such as Malaspina (“bad thorn”) convey meaning. An enjoyable, well-written, complex and timeless novel.

Highly Recommended

Canadian Review of Materials, 19 April 2024

Reviewed by Todd Kyle, CEO of the Brampton Library

Escape to Ponti is a splendid medieval adventure about two boys running from danger in search of themselves. Brian Slattery is an expert storyteller. His plot races as fast as the eye can read, with a cliffhanger at the end of each short chapter. And his dialogue is as clean and natural as his prose is light and agile. A perfect book to hook the most reluctant Middle Grade reader. —

Allan Stratton is the internationally award-winning author of The Dogs and The Grave Robber’s Apprentice

Set in medieval Italy, readers are taken on a thrilling adventure with 14-year-old Bec. As he is about to be branded by his evil slave master Malaspina, Bec makes a run for the forest. Fortunately, stealing from a young boy named Tien Nu results in an unlikely friendship, and together they travel to Ponti. Tien teaches Bec martial arts and acrobatics as they flee continual pursuit from Malaspina. Along the way, they face danger and bloodshed, and gain help from a mysterious knight. Beautiful drawings enhance the short action-packed chapters in this quest for freedom and self-discovery.

Calgary Herald, 5 May 2024

Reviewed by Barbra Hesson

ESCAPE TO PONTI

Spark Your Imagination!

Start the Adventure!

Chapter 1

About Me

Interview with Brian

Drop me a line

Praise for Escape to Ponti