Friends of the Crown: Book 1 of Heroes of the Realm

By Scott Van der Haeghen

Aubrey and Neville had always wanted to have an adventure of their own. Like those they had heard about in stories or read about on the rare occasions a book was available. They even knew what adventure they wanted to pursue. Since they were very young boys, they had always spoken of one day journeying beyond the Crystalline Sea. They had even gone so far as to train themselves in some of the tasks they would need on their journey; walking long distances, using stout branches as swords to develop their hero-like blade work, and sailing a small homemade boat on the lake to develop the seamanship they would need to cross the great ocean. Yes, they were certain they had prepared themselves completely.

The summer of their fifteenth year was swiftly approaching and they deemed it was nearly time for the adventure they dreamed of to become reality.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Scott Van der Haeghen
• Release date: Jul 23, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476241623

Scott Van der Haeghen

I live and work in Minnesota as an IT professional. My house is a very busy place with 3 or 4 children (depending on the time of year and the schedule of sleep-overs and such), 2 cats (sometimes 3), and one very hungry turtle named Myrtle; as such, time for writing or nearly anything else is at a premium!I have wished to write this book (Friends of the Crown) for a very long time and have spent years on it....when I could. Quite often it is hard for new writers to find or create the time necessary to really refine their ability; Friends of the Crown was written in many bits and pieces over the course of nearly ten years. I kept at it largely because it was the one story I truly wished to get "on paper". This story began as an ongoing tale told to my sons while on long drives in the car; now they can find out how it all fits together in one complete story!I am working hard at making more time for writing -- especially since the full tale is not yet complete and I want to see how it turns out! :-)

Book preview

Friends of the Crown -

Book 1 of Heroes of the Realm

By Scott Van der Haeghen

Copyright 2012 © Scott Van der Haeghen

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, license notes: This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. 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.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1-Family Matters

Chapter 2-Old Barlow

Chapter3-Fletcher the Fierce

Chapter 4-Newellen

Chapter 5-The Plot

Chapter 6-Radan

Chapter 7-In the Queen’s Regiment

Chapter 8-Groden

Chapter 9-The Great Western Ocean

Chapter 10-Marooned

Chapter 11-Stealing the Braydon

Chapter 12-Back to Saladin

Chapter 13-Home Again

Epilogue

Chapter 1 – Family Matters

Two ordinary looking young men were working outside a small house next to a ten-acre field, plowed and ready for the spring planting. Though the days were getting warmer with each that passes, they were splitting wood nonetheless. Warm it may be, Aubrey’s mother, Ellen Cousins, always said, but the cooking fire still needs to be fed and we will not be fed without it. So Aubrey and Neville are splitting logs into kindling for the stove. The door of the little house opened.

Aubrey! called Brey's mother from the porch of her little house. Finish your chores and come inside. It's nearly time for dinner. Shifting her gaze to the other young man by the pile of logs she added, I should think your mother would be looking for you as well, Neville. You should run along now so she'll not worry after you.

All right, mother. Brey turned his golden brown eyes to his companion, Neville Morton. As if your mother would think you were anywhere but here or in the village working. Really! Turning back to the shrinking woodpile, he grabbed another log and placed it on the big, flat stump. With a single practiced swing, the log split neatly in two.

Though only fourteen years of age, Brey Cousins was already showing his adult potential in his wiry but strong frame. Another sign of impending manhood was the feathery growth of sandy brown whiskers to match his hair, beginning to grow on his strong jaw line.

Ellen often tells him that he takes after his father. Though he has been gone for many years, Brey can still vaguely recall the sound of his father's voice and can almost remember his face. Mother tells him from time to time to merely look in a mirror to see him, as he is the spitting image of her departed love. Burt Cousins was a gentle, hard-working man who was as friendly a soul as anyone in Carsby had ever met. He was the kind of man to help anyone in need and still see that his own chores were daily met. When he died nearly five years ago in a logging accident the whole village mourned his loss. Ellen Cousins mourned long for her dear husband, but in time found she could once again smile and laugh and even love.

Neville Morton was nearly a full hand shorter than his friend, but was stockier of build. His hair was fair and his eyes a deep brown, bordering on black. Despite their difference in appearance, they were two of a kind in their thoughts.

Nev shifted his position on the log he had been resting upon and turned his gaze toward the plowed field a short distance away. I doubt my mum even remembers my name these days. She's gone so far to the cups she can't think beyond the next jug of wine. He reflected and plucked another shoot of spring grass from the patch of ground near the fence post and placed it between his teeth. Think your mum might let me stay for supper again? he asked hopefully.

You know she will; you'd never get a decent meal if it weren't for my mum. Help me finish up and we'll go in for dinner. The boys, as they had done in all things since they were very young, took up the task together and finished quickly. As predicted, Mrs. Cousins saw that Nev got a proper meal and sent a bit home with him to see that Mrs. Morton got some nourishment as well.

Abigail Morton was once a fine lady of the village. Though not wealthy, she always had a nice home, managed to have clean, well-kept clothing and made sure her son and daughter were always presentable and polite. Jacob Morton, Nev's father, was once thought of as the next elder of the village of Carsby, even though he was not technically old enough to be considered 'elderly'. He was wise, intelligent, and well respected…once. All that changed two years ago.

Two summers past, Jacob and his daughter, Millicent, were traveling to the city of Newellen; they were making a regular trip to obtain supplies for the farm and some fabric and ribbon for Milli and her mother. It is believed, along the road, they met a highwayman who demanded their money and their wagon. Being a man of honor and strong convictions, Jacob Morton would have refused and demanded the robber leave them alone; the robber and Jacob must have fought, the highwayman certainly being a more practiced swordsman slew him and took the money, the wagon - and Milli. It was more than two days before the crime was discovered. Though the men of Carsby immediately went in search of Milli and her captor, the trail was long cold and they were never found.

Abigail's grief was great and her spirit was crushed; though she still had one child left to her, the taking of the man she loved above all others and her precious daughter were more than she could bear and she took to wine to dull the pain. In time, she was too inebriated even to help Nev run the farm. Eventually, the property fell into disrepair, as the thirteen-year-old Nev wasn’t able to maintain it on his own, even with the help of his friend, Brey.

The village elders took pity on the Mortons and offered to help farm the land for only a small fee, allowing Nev and his mother to keep their home and food on the table. In time, they were forced to sell their land piece by piece until only a small garden and the house remained to the Morton family. Now Abigail lived mostly on the few pennies Nev was able to earn selling vegetables from his small garden and odd jobs performed in the village. The Mortons were on hard times and only the kindness of the Cousins’ and the pity of the village folk helped to sustain them.

For his own part, Nev had been able to deal with the loss and grief through his strong friendship with Brey, his best friend and closest companion. Though at first it was not easy, in time the tears came less often and he found he could even smile from time to time. Now, two years later, he had reconciled himself with the terrible loss. The youth loved his mother dearly and did all he could to help, but her inability to function at all because of the wine made it difficult for him to be around her for long periods. He spent most of his time with Brey and only returned home to sleep and tend to his garden.

The following day was planting day at the Cousins' farm. Early that morning Brey got up and broke his fast; soon after, Carl Janssen arrived with a wagonload of seed. It was a perfect day for planting, the sky above was clear blue and not a cloud marred the horizon. The field was to be planted with corn and wheat, and the garden with beans; it would make for a well-rounded crop and hopefully a rewarding one as well. Though times had not been terribly difficult for the Cousins' they had not been very profitable either. Now that mother had the help of Carl, the family farm could be more ambitious.

Carl was not only the local smith, but also a suitor for the hand of the widow Cousins. Brey very much approved of this; he liked the idea of his mother being properly cared for by a man of good character, he also noted that his mother seemed to be very fond of him.

Good morning to you, Brey! Carl said with the same broad smile he usually wore. As the village blacksmith, he was a large, powerfully built man with a barrel chest and arms as strong and hard as oak. His chiseled jaw was clean-shaven and his black hair cropped short and neat. He wore the same homespun shirt, brown trousers, and sturdy brown boots he always did.

Good morning, Carl! How are you? Brey returned, also smiling. Carl's smiles were infectious, even at dawn.

Mrs. Cousins stepped out to the porch, smoothing the front of the apron she wore over her plain green dress. Good morning, Carl. Have you eaten breakfast? I would be happy to prepare something if you wish.

Carl's smile widened even further. Thank you, Miss Ellen. I wouldn't want to put you to any trouble.

It is no trouble at all, I have only just finished with my own and Aubrey's, one more would only take a moment. she replied, her cheeks rosy with a blush. I will have something for you by the time you two have finished unloading the sacks. With that, she turned and hastened back inside.

Carl stared after her a few moments before shaking himself from his reverie.

Carl, are you in love with my mother? Brey asked as he moved to the rear of the wagon.

Carl grinned momentarily then tried to look disapproving. A proper gent doesn't ask such things you know. However, the scowl failed and he grinned all the more broadly. Ah Brey, your mother could bring the sunshine through the pouring rain just by smiling. How could a man not love such a woman?

Brey and Carl began unloading the sacks from the wagon and stacked them near the fence. Carl had looked thoughtful while completing the chore and then turned to Brey. Lad, could we talk man to man? Brey nodded. I know it's not exactly as things should be, but – just then, the door opened and Ellen called Carl to his breakfast. He excused himself and went inside to eat and returned in fifteen minutes.

Brey had been sitting on the sacks wondering what Carl wanted to talk about. He had an idea but didn't want to hex it by giving it too much wishing. Brey hefted a sack of wheat seed on his shoulder while Carl lifted one sack each of corn and wheat. As they walked across the broken earth of the field, Brey was waiting for Carl to get back to his earlier conversation, but he seemed lost in thought again.

So…what did you want to talk to me about, Carl? Brey asked finally.

Carl paused from opening the sack of seed corn, looking back toward the house. He took a deep breath and said, You asked me earlier if I was in love with your mother; the fact is, lad, I am indeed. He turned toward Brey and looked him in the eye. I know it's not exactly proper, you not being her father, but you are the man of the house after all. I'd like to ask for your mum's hand.

Carl spoke quickly and nervously as he began to pace back and forth over the uneven brown soil. As you know we’ve been courting for a while now and I've made my mind up to ask her to be my wife- if you don't object, that is. I know your father has been gone some time now, but if you say its not right then I will speak no more of it. When he finished he looked down at the sack he had been opening earlier and tugged at the burlap idly.

Brey smiled and then whooped and laughed loudly. Carl, that’s wonderful! Truth to tell I was hoping that was what you were going to say. He reached over and grabbed the big smith's hand and pumped it up and down several times. Carl's smile was so big it seemed to stretch from ear to ear. He too was laughing.

Suddenly Carl's smiled disappeared. What if she doesn't want to marry me, Brey? I'd not thought of whether she feels the same. The thought of that struck home and he looked positively grim.

Refuse? asked Brey with a grin. As I am standing here, I would wager this whole farm she has been waiting for you to ask. Why don't you just go back there and ask her? Elsewise, you'll mope about this field planting crooked rows just thinking about it.

Now I don't know if that would be right, would it? Just walk right up and ask her - just like that?

Why not? replied Brey. The fact was he was as excited to find out as Carl was. He gave the big man a shove in the direction of the house. Go! Off with you! I can handle the planting while you tend to more important business. You can come back once you've done your deed!

Carl stood for only a moment and began walking toward the house, a look of determination on his face. Brey watched him walk to the house and knock. Once he went inside, Brey turned back toward the sacks.

Good morning! said Nev from right beside him. Brey yelped and nearly jumped from his skin; Nev stood by and laughed at the effect of his prank.

You just took ten years from my life you sneak! Brey took at half-hearted swing at him, missing by at least a foot. Have you come to help plant or just to scare me half to death?

To help plant, of course, scaring you was just a happy addition to my plan. replied Nev with another chuckle. Where has Carl gone to?

Brey told Nev about his conversation with Carl and the errand he was on. That's great! exclaimed Nev happily. He too approved of Carl. Do you think your mum will say yes?

Brey laughed and nodded. Of course she will. Carl has been courting her for almost a year now. Every time she sees him she turns pink in the face and he starts talking like a ninny. They will be married all right, you just watch. The two young men began planting the seed. No more than ten minutes later, Carl came bounding out of the house whooping and laughing just as Brey had done when he said he would like to ask for his mum's hand.

Carl came running recklessly across the uneven ground of the plowed field like a boy who had just been let go of his chores for the day. Brey! Good morning, Nev! And a good morning it is indeed!

Nev grinned and chuckled. I take it you are soon to be married, eh Carl?

Carl smiled from ear to ear for the second time that morning. That I am, lads; that I am! Carl grabbed each young man's hand in turn and shook it so hard their teeth fairly rattled in their heads. It took a while for her to answer at first, for some reason she saw fit to cry right then; but in the end it was 'yes' she was saying!

Blessings to you both. The boys said at the same time.

Thank you, kind sirs. Carl responded with a mock bow. Then with a spring in his step he filled his waist pouch with seed and said. Let's to the planting boys; it's a sorry husband I would be if I let the planting fall behind now. So, Carl and the boys set to planting the corn under the bright morning sun.

At lunchtime, they all walked back across the field for a meal. Carl was still giddy as a schoolboy as they went to the well for water to clean themselves. In a short while they were gathered around the table and enjoying a hearty meal. The boys set to the meal with the gusto, but all Carl and Ellen could do was hold hands and stare at each other.

By the end of the day, all of the corn and much of the wheat had been planted. Ellen had also begun planting the staple vegetables and beans in the garden behind the house; it was a good day for all. That evening, Ellen prepared a feast to celebrate the planting as well as the happy occasion of her engagement to Carl Janssen. As usual, Nev stayed for the meal. After dinner, Ellen spoke with Carl privately for a few minutes then asked Nev to speak with her outside while Brey and Carl saw to the fire and clearing the dishes from the table.

Ellen sat on the bench on the porch of the house. Neville, how is your mother? she asked.

She is well, thank you. he answered, as any polite young man would do.

Ellen laughed softly. Neville Morton, don't you be coy with me. I have fed you far too many dinners to accept such blathering from you. How is she really? I worry for her so often. Nev could hear the genuine concern in her voice.

He stared at the rough planks of the porch and kicked at an unseen pebble. She doesn't get out of bed anymore except to fetch a jug of wine. I don't know what to do anymore. I think she might die soon if she doesn't stop. A tear rolled down his cheek as he continued. Mrs. Cousins, I am worried that she'll die and I'll be left alone and I don't know what to do to stop it. He threw his hands in the air in frustration. What can I do?

Ellen reached over and gently lifted his chin. Her soft blue eyes looked into his brown eyes and she saw his fear and his pain. Neville, since your father was taken, you have been as much my son as your own mother's. I can't bear any longer to see you shoulder such heavy burdens. Once I am married to Carl our lots together will make us comfortable enough; perhaps even with room for one or two more. Your mother and I were once friends as close as you and Brey. Up to now, I have been unable to do much to help aside from ensuring you were fed, and your mother when I could. Now, if Carl is willing, I may be able to help you and your mother. Would you like me to try?

Nev felt relief surge through him and his emotions took over. He nodded and turned his head so Ellen could not see him cry, and she stood and took him into her arms. Nev cried and held tightly to her, as any boy might do when holding his mother. Once he had cried himself out, Ellen told him to be strong just a little while longer.

The next day dawned clear and for the first time in two long years, Neville Morton felt truly happy. He got up from the pallet on which he slept, went to his mother's room, and knocked on her door. There was no response. After a few moments, he knocked again. What do you want? came the surly reply.

May I come in? asked Nev.

I don't care. she rasped.

He lifted the latch on the door and opened it; the stench of the room came upon him. He was used to it by now, but that didn't make it any more pleasant. The woman who was once a true lady of the village was huddled on her bed in a nest of old blankets and clothing. Several empty wine jugs littered the floor in the corner under the window. A cup and a crust of the bread Nev had brought to her the night before lay on the table beside the bed.

Her dull blond hair hadn't been touched by a brush in weeks and was a tangled mess. Her sunken, bloodshot eyes and sallow skin gave her the appearance of a ghost. Her thin limbs were bony and appeared gnarled. The huddled wretch on the bed looked at him expectantly. Do you have any money today? she asked.

No, Mother. he replied.

Then what do you want with me? Nev couldn’t form his reply.

Mrs. Cousins had told him to ask his mother if she would be willing to live with them until she was well again. Now he hesitated; not because he was afraid to ask her, but because he was ashamed of what his beautiful mother had become. How could he bring this wretch to Mrs. Cousins looking as she did? Surely she hadn't seen his mother in quite some time and would be repulsed by the creature she had become.

Well? Spit it out or leave! Abigail Morton was in a foul mood because she had no more wine.

Nev decided to try anyway; if Mrs. Cousins was kind enough to ask, he had to try. I was over at Brey's place yesterday. he began.

"So what? You're there every