The Forbidden Tale

By Brian Lambert

Over one night, hundreds of years apart, dangerous secrets are revealed changing two lives forever.

There are many legends among the leprechauns. Most concern Kerrik - the first and greatest king of them all.
But why has Kerrik's first tale been kept from Gascard? What is it about the last of the monsters that is too dangerous for him to know?
While the rest of the community are busy with an emergency harvest of the light-fruit tree his grandpa tells him and his friends the tale. But what will Gascard do with this knowledge?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brian Lambert
• Release date: Oct 23, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465775900

Brian Lambert

Brian Lambert has wanted to be a writer since he was nine and, being a fierce traditionalist, is most eager to know if he’s done this Smashwords thing correctly. He is a serial backpacker, clouder, beach walker who also writes the blog The Sheep Was Here (thesheepwashere.com). He lives in Melbourne, Australia.

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The Forbidden Tale

A short story by

Brian Lambert

Copyright © Brian Lambert 2011

Published on Smashwords by Brian Lambert

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All rights reserved.

All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Cover design by Bradley Wind.

Dedication.

To my family and friends. Most of whom have no idea I’ve done this.

Chapter One

Five pairs of eyes looked up as the light decreased. Three of them were topped by green hair, one was bald and the other was a strange brown colour. Gascard, with his normal green hair, felt the strong raspberry smell was a prime suspect for this anomaly.

They weren’t looking up at the night sky - they were looking at the ceiling of the cavern they lived in, with the giant light-fruit tree growing down from it. The mirrors under the light-tunnels – hollowed out trees that showed when it was daylight outside – had been dark for a while now, and wouldn’t even provide a meagre amount of light until the sun rose again.

Gascard remembered the last time this had happened and how strangely enjoyable it was. The light-fruit tree whose produce provided the illumination within the cavern and grew down from the ceiling like an enormous branching green and brown stalactite was having an emergency harvest. The majority of the light-fruits on it were fading into the red hues and due to go out. The thing was that when they went out they had a tendency to drop and, considering the size that Gascard and the rest of the community were, being knocked out by a small soft fruit that would explode into light wasn’t something you’d want to happen.

The whole of The People were conscripted into either harvesting (if they could cope with the yawning chasm below the tree) or processing the fruits. The children were meant to be safe within one of the dwellings set into the side of the cavern away from any possible accidents but as this was the closest thing they had to a festival they’d play up murder if they weren’t able to see it happen.

Gascard, Dennis, Poppy, and Rose were sitting around a small campfire as the normally brightly-lit cavern slowly grew darker. Dennis’s eyes were growing rounder with wonder as time went on - he’d never seen this before; Gascard remembered that his friend had fallen asleep last time and missed it. Poppy, although Rose’s twin sister, always tried to make herself as different from Rose as possible, which explained her red hair, but also that she had a look of boredom as if being excited was below her; whereas Rose’s mouth was an ‘o’ of wonder with each noticeable decrease in light. They were with Gascard’s grandpa, Gravin he was too old to either clamber round the tree branches and would get in the way of the fruit processors, so he was given the job of childminding. This suited him fine as he wouldn’t miss out on the fermented results of the harvest either.

What would you like to do? Gravin asked.

Tell us a story, all except Poppy chorused.

Oh, which one? he said in a mock-surprised tone.

About Kerrik! Was the obvious reply.

Which one about Kerrik? This was the tricky question. Kerrik was a king from ages ago and there were so many stories about the things he’d done it was difficult to know which one to choose from.

Gascard was idly looking into the grove which was under the Light-fruit tree and suddenly felt time slow down as he realised he was seeing his future come towards him. It was walking slowly towards them with a shy grin on its face and carrying a pot from which steam was escaping around the lid.

The People, for this is what they called themselves, were the last of their kind. The only new people they’d get into their community were the ones born into it. Therefore the children inherited their parent’s jobs when their parents could no longer do them. The community cook had been training up his son and it