The Minstrel's Journey

By Ed Dunlop

During a raid on Calverton Castle, Lord Raleigh’s own brother, Raymond, deliberately kills him with a well-aimed arrow. Knowing that Bradyn, his fifteen-year-old nephew, is the only witness to his treacherous deed, Raymond takes drastic steps to silence him.

Life is unbearable for Bradyn until the lord of a neighboring castle has pity on him and finds a way to end his suffering. Harboring hatred and bitterness toward his uncle, Bradyn makes deadly plans to get revenge.

When an aging minstrel takes Bradyn under his wing and teaches him to play the lute, Bradyn finds his calling in life and begins to travel as an itinerant minstrel. An overnight sensation, the young minstrel realizes he must choose between entertaining the wealthy lords and ladies of the kingdom or ministering to the poor mountain people of the region of Cappalachia.

In the end, the young minstrel must deal with the pride, hatred and bitterness in his own heart in order to serve King Emmanuel.

Travel back to the days of noble knights and powerful warlords... daring quests and deadly dragons... the days of honor and valor and chivalry. The Minstrel’s Journey is the seventh book in the Kingdom Tales from Terrestria, a companion series to the Terrestria Chronicles.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ed Dunlop
• Release date: Mar 16, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370001156

Ed Dunlop

Ed Dunlop has worked in children’s ministries full-time for more than forty years. As an evangelist, he conducts Family Crusades in local churches, presents teacher-training seminars, speaks at junior camps, and conducts visualized drug and alcohol awareness programs in public elementary and junior high schools. His ministry involves ventriloquism, Gospel magic, PowerPoint, and a variety of other visual media. Ed writes fiction for children and resource books for teachers, and currently has thirty-seven titles in print with five publishers. The author grew up in Phoenix, Arizona. and has served churches in California, Arizona, and Tennessee as assistant pastor and Christian Education Director. He and his family entered full-time evangelism in March of 1988. Ed and his wife, Elma, have five grown children and make their home in north Georgia. Ed enjoys canoeing, motorcycling and SCUBA diving. His sons are also certified divers. Ed currently serves as a volunteer diver at the Tennessee Aquarium in Chattanooga, Tennessee, and enjoys feeding the fish, sharks, stingrays and moray eels as groups of school children watch.

Book preview

The Minstrel’s Journey

A medieval tale

by Ed Dunlop

Book Seven in the

Kingdom Tales from Terrestria

Copyright 2017 Ed Dunlop

Smashwords Edition

Books by Ed Dunlop

The Terrestria Chronicles

The Sword, the Ring, and the Parchment

The Quest for Seven Castles

The Search for Everyman

The Crown of Kuros

The Dragon’s Egg

The Golden Lamps

The Great War

Kingdom Tales from Terrestria

The Quest for Thunder Mountain

The Golden Dagger

Return of the Dagger

The Isle of Dragons

Revenge of the Dragons

Return to Thunder Mountain

The Minstrel’s Journey

Jed Cartwright Adventure Series

The Midnight Escape

The Lost Gold Mine

The Comanche Raiders

The Lighthouse Mystery

The Desperate Slave

The Midnight Rustlers

The Deadwood Bank Robbery

The Young Refugees Series

Escape to Liechtenstein

The Search for the Silver Eagle

The Incredible Rescues

Sherlock Jones Detective Series

Sherlock Jones and the Assassination Plot

Sherlock Jones and the Willoughby Bank Robbery

Sherlock Jones and the Missing Diamond

Sherlock Jones and the Phantom Airplane

Sherlock Jones and the Hidden Coins

Sherlock Jones and the Odyssey Mystery

Chapter One

Bradyn’s heart pounded furiously as he crouched in the shade of a massive oak. He held his breath, not daring to lift his weapon into position, afraid that the slightest movement would give away his location. He released his breath slowly, silently, his gaze never leaving his quarry just twenty paces away.

The trophy hart stood motionless, ears twitching, eyes wide and staring as he gazed directly at the young huntsman. The animal lowered his head slightly, as if preparing to bolt to safety. His nostrils flared as he scented the afternoon air.

Bradyn waited anxiously, watching for the opportunity to bring his longbow into position. If he made the tiniest movement, the animal would flee before he could get off a shot. He trembled with anticipation.

A squirrel scolded from a nearby tree, and the magnificent hart turned his head slightly, distracted by the sound. Bradyn seized the moment and instantly pulled his longbow to full draw, hesitating for just a fraction of a second before releasing the shot. The arrow struck the hart just behind the shoulder, and the animal staggered for a moment and then dropped to the ground.

Bradyn felt a surge of elation. A perfect shot! he exulted. And this must be the largest hart in all Terrestria! Standing slowly to his feet, he turned at the sound of approaching horses.

Fear swept over him. A cavalcade of mounted knights rode swiftly down the draw below him, less than two hundred yards from his vantage point. A Tuscan war party! Slowly, heart pounding, he sank to his knees as he studied the soldiers. Visors down, the knights rode swiftly with weapons in hand, and Bradyn realized that these men were riding into battle.

Calverton Castle! he said softly. They’re preparing to attack the castle!

His thoughts raced. They’re following the valley for the element of surprise, he realized. If I can cut over the ridge, I can beat them to the castle! An accomplished archer, Bradyn fully intended to be involved in the defense of Calverton Castle.

Forgetting the hart, he raced for his horse and leaped into the saddle. Go, go, go! he urged the mare. We have to warn the castle!

The mare leaped ahead as if sensing the urgency of the moment. Riding hard, Bradyn headed directly uphill and entered the shadows of the forest. Dodging trees and windfalls, the young huntsman leaned forward in the saddle to urge his mount to greater speed. Moments later, they emerged from the forest and rode down the slope above the castle approach. Throwing a quick glance to the left, Bradyn was gratified to see that the approaching war party was two furlongs away, still out of sight of the castle.

Raise the drawbridge! he cried as the mare sped down the slope. The castle is under attack! Drop the portcullis! Raise the drawbridge! We’re under attack!

The mare’s hooves thundered across the drawbridge, and Bradyn was relieved to realize that the bridge was starting to move. The portcullis came crashing down behind him as he swept into the barbican and quickly dismounted.

A sentry appeared at his side. Sire, what is the cause for alarm?

Bradyn pointed. A war party approaches through the valley! he blurted. They’re mounted and riding hard. Unless I miss my guess, they’re Tuscans!

In an instant, the young huntsman was surrounded by nearly a dozen knights.

Son, how many riders did you see? The speaker was Lord Raleigh, a tall, well-muscled nobleman clad in a brilliant scarlet doublet and royal blue leggings. Lord Raleigh was Bradyn’s father and the lord of Calverton Castle.

Maybe thirty or forty riders, Bradyn replied. I didn’t stay around to count.

Lord Raleigh frowned. That’s all? Thirty or forty?

That’s all I saw.

Why would thirty or forty men attack the castle? the nobleman wondered aloud. Two hundred men could not possibly hope to take us.

The enemy approaches the castle! The cry came from the sentry above the gatehouse. The castle is under attack!

Lord Raleigh raised his voice. Battle stations! He turned to a nearby knight. Get the women and children into the great hall. Barricade the door.

Aye, sire. The knight hurried away.

Bradyn felt a sudden surge of fear as the reality of the upcoming battle sank in. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, embarrassed as he realized he was trembling. He clenched his fists to minimize the shaking. I will fight for the castle, he vowed fiercely. I will not shirk my duties!

Lord Raleigh gripped Bradyn’s shoulder. Son, this is what you’ve trained for. You’re one of the finest archers in Calverton Castle. You’ll do well.

Aye, sire. Bradyn seized a bundle of arrows from the castle armorer and then hurried up the stairs to his station on the sentry walk near the northwest tower.

Keeping a low profile, he cautiously peered over the wall at the enemy knights below. A barrage of enemy arrows suddenly filled the air above the battlements, and Bradyn ducked back in alarm. That was close!

Fitting an arrow to his bowstring, he pulled to quarter draw and then waited for an order from the castle commander.

At that moment, a tall archer strode quickly toward him, clutching a longbow in his left hand and a quiver of arrows in his right. Slinging the quiver over his shoulder, he quickly selected an arrow and nocked it on the string of his bow, then drew the weapon to quarter draw as Bradyn had done.

Uncle Raymond, Bradyn greeted him. I thought your battle station was usually above the main gate, right beside my father.

The big man shook his head. Not today, lad, not today. A note of derision crept into his voice as he said, And I really don’t need advice from a fifteen-year-old squire who has never even seen a real battle. He turned away as if to end the conversation.

Bradyn let out his breath in a long sigh of exasperation. Uncle Raymond had never been his favorite relative, and Bradyn had always been uncomfortable around him. Raymond was loud, opinionated, arrogant, and, quite often, openly critical of Bradyn’s father, Lord Raleigh. It seemed that no matter what decision Lord Raleigh made, Raymond could think of a better course of action, and he expressed his disdain for his older brother any time he found a listening ear.

Raymond had been a resident of Calverton Castle for nearly two years, though he did little to earn his keep. Lord Raleigh, a patient, forgiving man, had put up with his brother’s critical spirit and lack of loyalty and had allowed him to become a member of the garrison of Calverton knights. He had even provided Raymond with a spirited horse, a top-quality sword, and a suit of plate armor.

I’ll cover this position, Uncle Raymond said, throwing a look of contempt in Bradyn’s direction. Why don’t you run arrows for the various archers?

Bradyn stared at the man in disbelief. Sir, he replied, trying to keep his voice from trembling, I am an accomplished archer, and this position was assigned me by my father. No, sir, I will not run arrows for the archers! I am an archer.

Well, lad, his uncle snarled, I have this position covered, so find another. Perhaps you can fight alongside your father above the gate.

Bradyn glared at his uncle for a long moment and then turned away without answering. Clutching his longbow, he hurried along the sentry walk, finally settling into a position some ten or twelve paces from his uncle.

Fire at will! The commander’s order echoed across the castle, and the archers lining the crenelated wall unleashed a barrage of arrows at the enemy.

Bradyn’s hands flew as he fired arrow after arrow at the approaching marauders. He saw a rider tumble from his saddle, and he felt a sense of accomplishment.

The young archer glanced in his uncle’s direction. Uncle Raymond stood rigid, longbow at full draw, but he wasn’t moving. Why is he taking so long to aim? Bradyn wondered. He needs to put some arrows in the air! And then he let out a gasp. His uncle wasn’t aiming his bow over the west wall at the enemy; he was facing toward the north wall of the castle. What is he doing? It almost looks as if he is aiming at our men!

At that moment, the arrow leaped from Uncle Raymond’s bow. Bradyn watched in horror as the missile struck his father in the back of the neck, just below his helmet. With a cry of pain, Lord Raleigh tumbled from the sentry walk to land face-down in the barbican below.

No! Horrified at what he had just seen, Bradyn hurled his longbow and quiver to one side and dashed across the sentry walk. Taking the stairs two at a time, he raced down to the barbican where his father lay in a pool of blood, surrounded by several of his knights. Get the physician! Bradyn cried.

Moments later, Bradyn and several knights carried the severely wounded nobleman to a solar on the ground floor and placed him-face down on the bed. Clear the room, clear the room, the physician ordered as he rummaged through his bag of surgical instruments. My assistant and I must remove the arrow.

Overcome with grief, Bradyn squeezed his father’s arm and then followed the other knights from the room. The door closed behind them with a thud and a click.

The enemy is retreating! a sentry cried from the gatehouse. Calverton Castle is saved!

Dozens of knights lifted their voices in a hearty cheer.

I want forty men to ride with me in pursuit of these wretched dogs, Uncle Raymond announced in a commanding voice. These blackguards won’t get away with this! He scanned the garrison of knights. Who will ride with me?

Calverton Castle is on high alert, a stern voice announced, and Bradyn spun around to see Lord Morgan, the castle commander. The gate is sealed, and no one is to leave at this time.

I’m giving the orders now that my brother is incapacitated, Raymond retorted. You’ll serve under me, Commander.

I take orders from no one except my lord, Lord Raleigh, the commander replied, until it is determined that my lord is dead. And I repeat, sire, no one is to leave the castle at this time. I can understand your desire to avenge your brother’s death, but the safety of the castle residents is the primary consideration at this time.

The vile dogs that attacked the castle and killed my brother must be punished, and I intend to do it, Raymond growled in reply. Now stand aside, Commander, as I gather a task force to do just that.

Lord Morgan drew his sword. Raymond, take one step toward the gate and I will have you thrown into the dungeon. At this point I take orders from no one except your brother, Lord Raleigh.

Raymond was seething with anger, yet he realized that Lord Morgan had the upper hand. You will regret this, Commander, I assure you, he growled through clenched teeth. You are not in charge here.

Bradyn watched the angry exchange. This is just a charade, he told himself. Uncle Raymond killed Father! Why would he want to ride out and punish the raiders? He studied Lord Morgan with suspicion. I wonder if he was in on the plot.

A strong hand touched Bradyn on the shoulder, and he turned to see the castle physician. A look of anguish appeared in the man’s eyes as he said, He’s asking for you, lad. Go quickly.

Bradyn’s heart was in his throat as he hurried to the solar. The door opened as he approached, and he hurried inside. For an instant, Bradyn thought that the man in the bed was someone other than his father. Lord Raleigh’s face was gray and lifeless; his hands looked white and wasted and trembled like an old man’s.

Bradyn, my son, come close. The voice was weak, but Lord Raleigh’s eyes were alive with fire.

Hesitantly, Bradyn approached the bed. Father, it was Uncle Raymond! He’s the one—

Bradyn, listen to me, his father ordered. The physician says that I won’t make it. I’ve lost too much blood, and the arrow apparently damaged my spinal cord. I have no feeling or movement in my arms or legs.

Bradyn blinked back the tears. Father, don’t talk that way, he pleaded. You’ll get better! Just give it time.

He saw a slight shake of the head. Nay, Son, not this time. His father coughed and closed his eyes, struggling to breathe, and Bradyn feared that he would die at that moment.

Bradyn.

Bradyn focused on his father’s face.

Son, don’t grieve for me, the weak voice instructed. Today I go to the Golden City to live with King Emmanuel, and I will be reunited with your mother! He struggled to draw a breath. This is not a time for mourning; it is a day of rejoicing. Today I shall see the King!

What will happen to me, Father? Bradyn whispered. How can I ever live without you?

The castle and the estate will be in your brother Damon’s hands when I am gone, Lord Raleigh replied. Raymond will send a messenger informing him of my death. Your Uncle Raymond will also be here to make sure that your needs are met. Son, you won’t be left alone.

Father, Bradyn said slowly, looking over his shoulder to ascertain that they were alone, Uncle Raymond fired the shot that hit you! He shot you deliberately!

Son, that’s utter nonsense, Lord Raleigh retorted feebly. Why in Terrestria would Raymond do that? He wouldn’t shoot his own brother!

The door opened at that moment to admit the physician as he hurried to Lord Raleigh’s bedside. My lord, he said, addressing Bradyn, you had better let him get some rest.

Let him stay, Lord Raleigh replied. I want him here. He looked at Bradyn. Is it true that the enemy has been routed?

Bradyn nodded. Aye, Father. The castle is safe.

A smile of contentment slowly spread across Lord Raleigh’s face. Then I am free to take my leave to the Golden City, he said slowly. Farewell, my beloved son. Our next meeting will be in the presence of King Emmanuel himself.

Lord Raleigh closed his eyes, and the smile faded from his face.

In an instant, Bradyn realized that his father was gone, and a heavy weight of overwhelming grief seemed to crush his chest. He struggled to breathe.

What will happen now? he wondered. Why did Uncle Raymond shoot my father? A nagging thought sent a bolt of fear through his being. What if Uncle Raymond knows that I saw him shoot Father?

Hot tears stung his eyes as he strode from the solar. Oh, Father, he sobbed, what will I do without you?

Chapter Two

Bradyn hurried across the darkness of the east bailey, thankful for the thick clouds that obscured the light of the moon. Right now he just wanted to be alone. He didn’t want to see or talk to anyone.

Blinded by his tears, he stumbled over a tree root. In the effort to regain his balance he slammed his shoulder into the unyielding trunk of the tree. Reeling with pain, he staggered to the darkest corner of the courtyard and sank to the ground beneath a persimmon tree. A confusion of troubling emotions swirled through his soul like a whirlwind.

Grief. What will I do now that Father is gone? Oh, Father, I will miss you so!

Anger. Why did Uncle Raymond shoot my father? How could he kill his own brother? Some day I will kill that man.

Fear. Does Uncle Raymond know that I know? Perhaps I should run away tonight! If he does know that I saw him, he will try to kill me!

Bradyn crossed his legs and let out a long, mournful sigh. King Emmanuel, help me, he breathed. I don’t know what to do. He withdrew a parchment from within his doublet and wrote a desperate petition to King Emmanuel:

My Lord, King Emmanuel,

My father is dead, killed by my uncle, and I don’t know what to do. My Lord, why

did my father have to die? I miss him so. How will I make it without him? If Uncle

Raymond knows that I saw him kill Father, he will try to kill me. Please, help me.

Your son, Bradyn

He rolled the parchment tightly, opened his hand, and watched as the petition shot over the castle wall in a thin streak of blue light. In a moment’s time, he knew, his petition had been received by King Emmanuel in the Golden City