Tinker's Tale 2ed

By Stephen B5 Jones

Midieval mayhem and mystical maliciousness set in an alternate world’s version of northern Colorado. Tinker's tale is an adventure told with warmth and humor by a tinker who weaves the tale of Sir Firth and Sir Merrick; enemies united in a common quest to save the new Queen. They are joined by a mysterious swordsman from the Far East, a Samurai in search of a Sensei. But even more mysterious, a young magician sent with a mission of her own.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stephen B5 Jones
• Release date: Mar 28, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301305322

Stephen B5 Jones

Husband, Father, Philosopher, Bus Driver, Writer. Missionary.. but that's just today. I grew up in the U.S. southwest. I've been writing, sometimes coherently, since Jr. High. That was a long time ago.

Book preview

Tinkers Tale

2ed

Stephen B5 Jones

Smashwords edition

Copyright 2013 & 2011, Stephen Jones

All rights reserved.

Chapters

01 Just a Dream

02 Some Epic Tale

03 A Very Long Time Ago

04 Before the Beginning

05 The Champions of This World

06 The Side Door

07 Close to Midnight

08 The End of War

09 The Morning

10 Into the Mountains

11 Beneath High Mountains

12 Along the Road

13 A Good Knight

14 Interruption

15 In a Glass Cage

16 The Silt Wasteland

17 Evening

18 Through the Desert

19 In The Morning

20 The Castle of Vermillion

21 Deeper In

22 The Wizard Vermillion

23 In the Mists

24 The Day of Battle

25 Outside the Caves

26 Triumphant Return

Context: Notes on second editions and the virtual back cover.

01 Just a Dream

Nick walked on a stone wall high above the ground.

Wind whispered through the tips of tall pines around his perch. Sparse grass dotted the clay brown land far below. The faint sliver of the moon almost disappeared in the bright blue sky. The mountain towered over him so close he could see individual rocks at its pinnacle. He had been there before, he thought. It felt as if he had lived there all his life.

His feeling of comfort didn't matter so much. He didn't think about it until later. Nick's attention turned to the courtyard below where two men, two knights, were fighting with wooden swords. He had walked out on the wall to gain a better vantage point. He knew them, he thought, one better than the other, but he did not think of their names.

They were good, experienced in their art of swordcraft. Their moves dance-like in their precision. Neither able to gain a clear advantage. Faint sounds of their conflict, and of those cheering them on, barely rose as far as the height of the wall where Nick knelt down to steady himself and watch. This contest would not be decided quickly, not between those two.

There was some commotion behind him. Nick ignored it at first, his attention on the knights below, but then there was a scream. He reacted, pulling his sword out he turned to face--a terrible evil darkness looming over him like a cliff face.

He yelled a challenge. The creature glared at him with ebony eyes full of hate, it's cold breath full of evil and cinder. With a speed which belied its mass, foot long talons came at him in a wide arc. Nick braced himself, his sword was out, but across his body should he want to block. Worse, he stood with a heel on the edge of the wall.

With no choice left to him Nick swung his sword across at the monster, the blade dug into thick tar-like skin as the talons reached him...

#

Nick awoke with a start, covered with sweat. He had been dreaming... falling from somewhere high.

Once he realized he was awake, and alive, he sat up and put his feet on the floor, then tried to wipe his wet face with his damp sleeve.

It was the middle of the day. He had dozed off on the couch, Jenny was sitting in front of it, on the floor, doing classwork. The air conditioner rattled and complained from its window in the corner of the room. It made little headway against the heat, as usual. Through the window the view opposite the mountains above Boulder, from the right wall next to the window one could see the plains around the side of a dingy brown building.

Nicholas, she said, adjusting her black rimmed glasses, the ones she used for reading. Are you alright?

Her voice was sweet with the remnant of her mid-western accent. Her hair was tied up, but more than a few chocolate brown strands lay scattered around her face and neck. She was dressed in her usual faded jeans and a t-shirt with some popular logo on the front. Nick sighed, one look at her jade green eyes and he was in love again. They had been married five and a half months.

Everyone had told them to wait until after college. He was glad they hadn’t.

Just a dream Jenny May.

Calling her Jenny May was his retaliation for her calling him Nicholas. Aside from his grandmother, she was the only one who called him that name. It bothered her at first, but their form of address had become normal.

He should have known better than to say anything about a dream.

What did you dream?

Dreams meant more to Jenny than they did to him.

It was really hot there too, he laughed. Their air conditioner was worse than ours.

Come on, She put a hand on his shoulder and gave his muscle a squeeze. I always tell you my dreams.

She did. Jenny told her dreams in supernatural detail. Nick tried to listen, but usually ended up confused in the mountain of details. He never told anyone about his dreams, and certainly not the way she did. He usually didn't remember.

I dreamed I was a knight, Nick said. Jenny May would have to live without knowing about the other knights, his life-long friends, and a great banquet where the King had knighted him. One of the other knights had told him stories about fields full of buffalo, in the dream he hadn’t thought it was a strange thing for a knight to talk about. Two of the knights had been fighting, more of a contest than a war. He remembered placing a bet.

The dream ended before he found out if he'd won, and now he could not recall who he had bet on.

One of the squires was a girl he knew from school, a foreign student named T.J. Short and blonde, he had noticed her because she was amazingly cute. In the dream it hadn't registered at all that she was a squire, and a woman. He elected to leave that detail out as well. Dreaming about other women might not be a bad thing, but telling your new wife about it could be.

I had a full suit of armor and a big sword. There was a big black flying thing which attacked, um, the Queen. I jumped in to help her.

You were fighting a dragon? she asked, looking at him with some kind of awe. My hero.

I couldn’t tell what it was, Nick continued. It was really really black, and big. It was flying. The thing knocked me over the edge of a wall. It was a long way down. Then I woke up.

Nicholas, She said. You just died in a parallel world. Isn’t that terrible?

He wanted to laugh, but she really believed it. It was not a good thing to laugh at your new wife's crazy ideas.

Yeah, right. I’m glad I didn’t tell you about the beautiful Queen.

Was she a blonde? Jenny asked, grabbing his arm. She tried to be jealous, but it just wasn't in her.

Actually, he said. He looked at her and realized who the Queen looked like. Her hair was almost the same color as yours, except a lot longer. It looked really good.

You’re sweet, she said, giving his arm a squeeze. I’m not growing my hair out. It's too hot.

Jenny must have thought he was making up that part to get on her good side, but it was true. The Queen was Jenny. His mind had found a way to put her in his dream, and in a pretty good place. Good, except for the part where she was being attacked by a dark, angry, dragon kind of creature.

Nick got up and headed to the bedroom.

Nicholas would you like to go shopping with me? she called. Jenny always wanted to go to the mall. He had gone with her before. She spent her time in the wrong stores.

Hockey practice, Nick said. It was a perfect activity for a hot afternoon. The ice rink was temperature controlled, and extra time on the ice never hurt.

Jenny had gone with him to practice at first, but she did not get along with the girls who were with the other guys on the team. It was not a surprise to Nick; Jenny had more class than all of them put together.

Besides, I’ve already seen everything in all the stores. Go without me.

Maybe next week, she said. Jenny was not one to give up. That was another thing he liked about her. Maybe in a few days, he would let her talk him into going with her. What would it hurt?

As he pulled a hockey shirt out of a plastic crate Nick let his mind wander. How cool would it be if he was a knight? Would he have great battles? Who would his enemies be? What would he do, that is, when he wasn’t causing the women of the court to swoon?

That could be some epic tale...

02 Some Epic Tale

It was still early in the day when midsummer’s heat descended on the town. The wind refused to blow over the mountains to lend coolness to the valley. Lethargic valley wind did little more than move heat from one place to another. Work slowed to a minimum, sticky air collected around anyone foolish enough to exert themselves in any measure. The elders in the square saw no hope of relief in the weather signs.

...And children quite suddenly gathered in the Tinker’s workshop.

Up the hill from the town square, around the corner from the Tailor’s shop and down the street from dozens of homes, the tinker's workshop had been thrown together over a number of years from materials left over from other buildings. Visitors almost always commented on the ungainly building up the hill, yet the workshop had somehow become a haven for adults and a play area for children. The Tinker did not mind company. When questioned about the wisdom of such an open door policy she simply quoted her father, who had been a tinker as well. He had spoken volumes about the joys of a workshop and hearth filled with friends.

The morning had been dedicated to carving a wooden gear to fit the workings of a small box on her table. It was not a project anyone had asked her to do, it was an idea she had dreamed up. The project had begun with the new year, but seven months later it was little more than some disjointed parts and a vague idea of how it might work. Other things kept getting in the way. With luck, she hoped, it could be completed by the next year.

Sweaty strands of topaz hair kept falling into her face as she worked, destined, it seemed, to fall from the place where she had gathered it on her head, routing gritty sweat into her eyes. More than once she had been tempted to cut off her hair to make the summer heat bearable.

It was during one of those moments when she was wishing her hair away when she looked up. Three young faces watched her intently. The children snuck in and settled into a corner area where she kept a mass of floor mats.

It was not uncommon for village children to visit her, rare was the day when one or two were not in her workshop. Meals had been missed and nap-times delayed by children who lost their sense of time in the workshop. The Tinker was, however, glad she had not given in to the temptation to throw her dress off in favor of thinner underclothes.

She knew the village children by name. She could not spend all of her time tinkering with gadgets and fixing broken machines. Her father often said life would be work, sleep, and boring without people involved.

The next time she turned around more than two dozen children were looking at her, all with expectant gazes.

Don't tell me, she said. You're curious about what manner of machinery I'm creating today.

Trevor immediately shook his head and said no. He was young and did not yet have the ability to keep himself from saying what he was thinking. Of course, this is not always a bad thing.

The Tinker was teasing of course. She knew why children had gathered at her workshop on that hot and sweaty day.

I don't have time for such nonsense, she said, grinding harder on the gear she was trying to fit. Today is a very busy day, I have three projects to finish. Come back tomorrow. Maybe I'll tell you a story then.

The children did not believe her, and she knew it. The weather was too hot and the air too still for anyone with any sense to put in a hard day of work. They also knew the machines sitting on the work bench all belonged to the Tinker, they were not meant for anyone and she had no need to finish them in haste.

Besides, she added, turning her back on them. I have no new stories to tell you.

The children did not believe that one either. They knew her. They knew her husband was away and she was lonely, and they knew she really loved telling stories, despite her complaints.

She continued to work for a few more minutes. The expectant silence behind her welled up like a thunder head.

With a sigh she took the gear onto the work bench to see if it fit in place.

In fact, there was something which had been on her mind for several days, an event from a few years ago. The children wouldn't know much about it, but those events were the beginning of a great many things. Telling a story, even this story, would certainly be more comfortable than working in the heat of the afternoon.

Well, if I must, she said, walking about the table, holding the box with her newly fitted gear in place. Little smiles and more than a few giggles greeted her as she sat down. She had given in quickly this time. It was too hot to work, and perhaps, just perhaps, it was finally the right time for this story to be told.

She put the box on a small table beside the large comfortable chair her father had made for the one year anniversary of her wedding; though actually he had made the chair for her husband. The Tinker looked into the face of each child and then sat up in her best storytelling posture.

"Here is a story I've never before told. I suppose I saved it back, thinking more would come of it. Someday there may yet be more to tell. We can only hope.

This is a story about us, some of us, and about people you know. But it's also about some people you don't know.

The whole matter really began a very long time ago...

03 A Very Long Time Ago

King Arthur Pendragon, ruler of all Britain, France, Scotland, Spain, Nortafrica and the Holy Lands, had been at peace for many years. The land prospered under his care. Invaders were quickly put to rest by the brave king and his loyal knights; the famed knights of the round table. People were happy in the land.

The day after Pentecost joyous shouting sounded forth from the castle Camelot. The court shouted for the birth of the seventh child of Arthur and Gwynevere. After bearing six sons, the Queen delivered a daughter.

Gwynevere is resting, Merlin announced to the court. The girl child, Princess Elayne, is strong and healthy. History has reached its true pinnacle. Nothing I have seen in the future nor anything you have known in the past will rival this time or this kingdom. So I will use my magic to call upon history to come to an end. Time shall henceforth march on alone.

The court cheered Merlin. They did not consider the consequences of his action, and so they did not think to say or do anything to prevent what he proposed from coming to pass.

Nyneve, Merlin's one true love, heard these words and, unlike the court, she contemplated them carefully. There would come a time when people of good conscience would rather they had not been said, but by that time Merlin would have faded from the