Jirel of Joiry by C.L. Moore

Book Details

The complete tales of Jirel of Joiry, flame haired warrior maiden of medieval France. Jirel is the proud, tough, beautiful, flame haired, warrior ruler of Joiry — located somewhere in medieval France about 1500. Her adventures pit her against witches, sorcerers and supernatural beings, as well as much more easily dispatched men.

The Black God’s Kiss (1934) – A gripping story of a warrior maid who went down into a land of unthinkable evil in search of a strange weapon

Black God’s Shadow (1934) – Another fascinating story about Jirel of Joiry, who went down into a terrible place of darkness to release a human soul from torment

Jirel Meets Magic (1935) – The story of a warrior maid and the tremendous adventure that awaited her beyond the castle window

The Dark Land (1936) – An amazing tale of a red-headed warrior maid, and a leprously white skull-faced woman, and a flame that was quenched

Quest Of The Starstone (1937) (written with Henry Kuttner) – Across the far-flung centuries Jirel, the red-headed warrior-maid of old France, meets Northwest Smith, valiant rover of the spaceways, in a strange and thrilling adventure

Hellsgarde (1939) – Dead men guarded the treasure in Hellsgarde Castle—a tale of Jirel of Joiry. A fantastic and blood-curdling story of the treasure in Hellsgarde Castle, and the dead men who stood guard over it—

Catherine Lucille Moore (1911–1987), born in Indianapolis, Indiana, was one of the early great female writers of science fiction and fantasy. As a writer she most often used the pen name “C. L. Moore.” Moore met Henry Kuttner, also a science fiction writer, in 1936 when he wrote her a fan letter under the impression that “C. L. Moore” was a man. They married in 1940.

In 1937, Moore and Kuttner collaborated on “Quest of the Starstone” which combined Moore’s signature characters, Northwest Smith and Jirel of Joiry. It is the fifth Jirel story and is considered to be the eleventh in the Northwest Smith series.

Jirel of Joiry has 7 illustrations.

Files:

1. CLMoore-Jirel.epub

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Excerpt: The Black God’s Kiss

THEY brought in Joiry’s tall commander, struggling between two men-at-arms who tightly gripped the ropes which bound their captive’s mailed arms. They picked their way between mounds of dead as they crossed the great hall toward the dais where the conqueror sat, and twice they slipped a little in the blood that spattered the flags. When they came to a halt before the mailed figure on the dais, Joiry’s commander was breathing hard, and the voice that echoed hollowly under the helmet’s confines was hoarse with fury and despair.

Guillaume the conqueror leaned on his mighty sword, hands crossed on its hilt, grinning down from his height upon the furious captive before him. He was a big man, Guillaume, and he looked bigger still in his spattered armor. There was blood on his hard, scarred face, and he was grinning a white grin that split his short, curly beard glitteringly. Very splendid and very dangerous he looked, leaning on his great sword and smiling down upon fallen Joiry’s lord, struggling between the stolid men-at-arms.

“Unshell me this lobster,” said Guillaume in his deep lazy voice. “We’ll see what sort of face the fellow has who gave us such a battle. Off with his helmet, you.”

But a third man had to come up and slash the straps which held the iron helmet on, for the struggles of Joiry’s commander were too fierce, even with bound arms, for either of the guards to release their hold. There was a moment of sharp struggle; then the straps parted and the helmet rolled loudly across the flagstones.

Guillaume’s white teeth clicked on a startled oath. He stared. Joiry’s lady glared back at him from between her captors, wild red hair tousled, wild lion-yellow eyes ablaze.

“God curse you!” snarled the lady of Joiry between teeth. “God blast your black heart!”

Guillaume scarcely heard her. He was still staring, as men stared when they first set eyes upon Jirel of Joiry. She was tall as most men, and as savage as the wildest of them, and the fall of Joiry was bitter enough to her heart as she stood snarling curses up at her conqueror. The face above her mail might not have been fair in a woman’s head-dress, but in the steel setting of her armor it had a biting, sword-edge beauty as keen as the flash of blades. The red hair was short upon her high, defiant head, and the yellow blaze of her eyes held fury as a crucible holds fire.

Guillaume’s stare melted into a slow smile. A little light kindled behind his eyes as he swept the long, strong lines of her with a practised gaze. The smile broadened, suddenly he burst into full-throated laughter, a deep bellow of amusement and delight.

“By the Nails!” he roared. “Here’s welcome for the warrior! And what forfeit d’ye offer, pretty one, for your life?”

She blazed a curse at him.

“So? Naughty words for a mouth so fair, my lady. We’ll not deny you put up a gallant battle. No man could have done better, and many have done worse, But Guillaume—” He inflated his splendid chest and grinned down at her from the depths of his jutting beard. “Come to me, pretty one,” he commanded. “I’ll wager your mouth is sweeter than your words.”

Jirel drove a spurred heel into the shin of one guard and twisted from his grip as he howled, bringing up an iron knee into the abdomen of the other. She had writhed from their grip and made three long strides toward the door before Guillaume caught her. She felt his arms closing about her from behind, and lashed out with heels in a futile assault upon his leg armor, twisting like a maniac, fighting with her knees and spurs, straining hopelessly at the ropes which bound her arms. Guillaume laughed and whirled her round, grinning down into the blaze of her yellow eyes. Then deliberately he set a fist under her chin and tilted her mouth up to his. There was a cessation of her hoarse curses.

“By Heaven, that’s like kissing a swordblade,” said Guillaume, lifting his lips at last.

Excerpt From: C.L. Moore. “Jirel of Joiry.”