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The Searcher: No Boundaries
The Searcher: No Boundaries
The Searcher: No Boundaries
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The Searcher: No Boundaries

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It is 1958 as a teenager scans the beach of Cabo Mar. But Max is not a casual visitor gazing at the Pacific as he appears to be. He is really a three-hundred-year-old Searcher going mad with frustration. Sir Maximillian, the seventh knight of King Authors Round Table, is on a maddening quest to find Lo-Lo, the lost daughter of his true love, Queen Elainea journey that has taken him much longer than he ever imagined.

For Max, many challenges lie ahead. He must find Lo-Lo and return her to her mothers throne, avenge the brutal murder of her mother, and trace the royal blood line of their Kingdom of Astolot. Meanwhile, twenty-two-year-old Lo-Lonow going by Roz in her mortal lifeis living in California, without any idea that hundreds of years ago, she was kidnapped and now eerily resembles Elaine, her mother from so long ago. But when Max finally sees Lo-Lo emerging from the ocean, he can hardly believe his eyes. He has found her at last, but Lo-Lo may not be ready to hear everything he has to say.

In this magical tale laced with greed and avarice, only time will tell if the force of overwhelming love has the power to bring generations of courageous characters together at last.

LanguageEnglish
PublisheriUniverse
Release dateMay 1, 2013
ISBN9781475958416
The Searcher: No Boundaries
Author

Rosilla Bradley Rogers

Rosilla Bradley Rogers has participated in mountain rescue in the high Sierras and the deserts of Baja California, Mexico, for over forty years. She is the mother of seven biological and six adopted children and grandmother to twenty-five grandchildren. She lives in Santa Barbara, California.

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    The Searcher - Rosilla Bradley Rogers

    Copyright © 2010, 2013 by Rosilla Bradley Rogers.

    All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

    This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

    iUniverse books may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting:

    iUniverse

    1663 Liberty Drive

    Bloomington, IN 47403

    www.iuniverse.com

    1-800-Authors (1-800-288-4677)

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

    ISBN: 978-1-4759-5840-9 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4759-5842-3 (hc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4759-5841-6 (ebk)

    iUniverse rev. date: 11/13/2012

    CONTENTS

    Foreword - Spirit Talk

    PROLOGUE - THE BEGINNING

    The Arrival

    The Mermaid / The Lady From The Sea

    Twins—Or Were They?

    THE BEGINNING

    The Searcher

    MY AWAKENING

    A Little Late But On The Job

    A Little Blood

    The Englishman Who Was A Buddhist

    THE CHANGE

    Shock After Shock

    The Princess Of Astolot

    The Glider Port

    MAX’S LITTLE TRIBE

    The Backcountry

    No Boundaries

    MY DREAMS

    In The Quiet Of The Night

    Who Is Lo-Lo?

    Stew In The Pinacate Desert

    How To Make Stew In The Pinacate Desert

    Life Returns To Normal

    THE DAYS OF THE KNIGHTS

    A Rock With My Name On It

    Elaine, The Lady Of The Lake

    Sixteen Miles Of Books

    THE WELSH

    Back In University

    Dance Of The Maypole’

    Intrigue

    THE LADY ISABEL

    The Chiefess

    The Castle

    The Ghost Of Astolot

    REVENGE IS BEST SERVED COLD

    The Courtyard

    The White Dove

    A Host Of Doves

    THE LADY OF THE LAKE

    Hearts’ Ease

    The Secret

    THE LADY OF THE SEA AND A YOUNG SEARCHER, OUR LANCE

    Waiting Can Be A Lonely Thing

    An End To Waiting

    Author’s Notes - On Searchers and Dragons

    Addendum - This Subject is Dragons

    Fun Codicils - For Your Curiosity

    About The Author

    FOREWORD

    Spirit Talk

    This true story is for you who believe in Spirit Talk

    For those who do not; read and you may by the end.

    I first learned to believe while in search and rescue in the mountains and deserts of the far places in 1958.

    In the deepest night your Searcher would gently touch your shoulder and the precipice beside you would move back. Your feet would safely pass on.

    Searchers for lost souls or gold or lost civilizations:

    We all know it’s a true phenomenon and don’t puzzle about it. You use it if it’s working for you at the time.

    Your Soul must be reaching out for the lost. The Spirit of the lost one talks to you. Will you hear?

    If not, you wish your head would quit talking and listen.

    But some times your mind is disturbed.

    Sometimes your Soul is not open to your Spirit.

    You cannot hear the message. You will not hear.

    I wish you a good read.

    Rosilla Bradley Rogers

    2010 A.D.

    PROLOGUE

    The Beginning

    It pays to be watchful while living in the neighborhood of a known dragon

    Mark Twain

    CABO MAR, CALIFORNIA

    —1958

    By Rosilla Bradley Rogers

    2006

    THE ARRIVAL

    Cabo Mar, 1958

    No trumpets or horns signaled Max’s arrival. He slid in unnoticed—

    under the radar so to speak. He stood quietly, unobtrusively in the background. Just another teen-ager on the empty beach. Three little tots were playing near him close to the Marina Room Restaurant that appeared empty at this hour. No adults. No lifeguards, watching the children. Something was wrong.

    To anyone casually looking his way, he appeared relaxed, mildly interested. In truth, his every sense was alert. He was strung tight as a bow.

    The Beach was too empty.

    The weather was overcast, the sky a dull grey. A brisk wind was catching a few white caps that ruffled the sea. Even so, for an upscale Southern California Beach and Tennis Club the area was too deserted. At 3 o’clock, the time after lunch and before the cocktail hour, It was still too quiet. Then a young woman’s little car came and she whisked the three children off presumably to cook supper. All was silent again. Too quiet.

    Between assignments for the Tribunal, he had caught a faint scent on the breeze. The scent of salt, sand and sun. It had brought him here to Cabo Mar. Now to his delight he had gotten a solid hit. He felt his Lo-Lo. He had come here following a premonition. Or call it a hunch in his quest for the little girl he had sworn he would Protect. And whom he had so bitterly failed.

    He had spent the better part of this afternoon wandering around the Club, acting the casual visiting teenager. He had found a solid feel of Lo-Lo. She was here. He had the spoor. He knew she was close, but where? She was here but she was not in sight. Nor was anyone else. He felt her as acutely as he had her mother Elaine while she was alive. They had been able to sense each other, even long distances apart.

    His every muscle was ready to act. All while he appeared a casual youthful visitor looking at the Pacific on a grey and chilly day. Beneath his façade of mild disinterest, he was mad with frustration. He was no lonely teen-age visitor. He was a 300 year old Searcher mad with frustration. He had thought to continue his search for Lo-Lo, spending this free time as he so often did in his maddening quest.

    I was as unaware of him as he was of me. His every sense was on alert, telling him clearly I was there. Yes, I was there, beneath the surface of the water, taking my first scuba diving lesson. As a modern 22 year-old college graduate would I believe in Searchers as Protectors? Yes, they were all over the movie screens that summer, and I believed in Knights in shining armor and that Robin Hood was Errol Flynn.

    Months later when I fell into danger and he was forced to step forward, did I believe his tale of being a Searcher and My Assigned Protector? Are you kidding? But by then I had fallen for him, big time. I was willing to go along with any wild tale in exchange for the kisses. Mmmmm. Yummy. And I didn’t believe for a minute he was any 300 years old! At 22 I was a little old for his 17, but with those kisses, what the heck. Months later when he told me that story of his coming to the Beach and Tennis Club did I believe him? Did I believe there really were Searchers other than in James Campbell 3-D movies? Yes, and I believed Kevin Costner was Eliott Ness. Are you kidding?

    In truth Searchers have been with us for eons as Protectors. Only a very few, maybe 3 in 1,000, ever are aware at some level that Searchers are there to Protect; usually assigned to protect only the ethical leaders of the era the Tribunal has undertaken to safeguard. However, as in the case of the Queen Elaine, the Tribunal to this day has a Searcher on the case to avenge the wrong done to her while under their protection. Unfinished business after 300 years.

    Unusual but true and this is how I, with my mop of red hair, became involved. My wild love for Max developed later out of admiration and loyalty to him, My Max, My Protector, My Man.

    At 21, in the time of Camelot, he had been invited to become a Searcher, a Protector. He was Sir Maximillion, Knight of Cornwall, the 7th Knight of the Round Table and appointed by the Tribunal as the Chief Protector of Arthur Glendragon, soon to be King Arthur of Camelot. Regardless of his titles, he was acknowledged as a fiercesome swordsman and Knight.

    Now centuries later Max continued his search for the daughter Lo-Lo, spending this free time as he so often did. This day, once again to feel so close but perhaps to lose the trail again. So close and yet there was nothing. No sign of the child Lo-Lo. Nothing.

    Two boats and a number of people caught his attention off shore. When we began to climb out of the ocean, he realized it was some sort of class or training. In truth I, his Lo-Lo, had been near. He could feel me but I was nowhere in sight! Only about 25 feet beneath the water for this first scuba class, but well out of even Max’s enhanced Searcher sight.

    THE MERMAID / THE LADY

    FROM THE SEA

    Cabo Mar, The Ocean

    Suddenly he saw me. Dripping wet hair, an ink-black short wet suit, and long white legs rising from the sea. At first the long white legs startled him. He had thought I was some type of seal until he saw the legs.

    Wet suits and scuba tanks had not been programmed into his background for this century. He was, after all, no teen-ager but a Searcher using his time off still searching for the long lost trace of Lo-Lo to lead him to her mother, Elaine. A mermaid with legs appearing suddenly from the sea caught him unprepared. Especially a mermaid with air tanks on her back.

    Then I pulled off my diving hood and my face showed clear. It was the face of his Elaine, savaged and dead for more than 250 year’s. It was like a blow to his heart. He dropped to his haunches and retied his shoes while he caught his breath. He had been looking for a five year-old child not a twenty-something nymph with a mop of his Elaine’s fiery red hair.

    Now he could see it was obviously not his mortal, long dead Elaine. It was Lo-Lo the daughter. That brought its own sense of joy. It meant that he had succeeded for the first time in one of the parts of his three-pronged quest;

    •   To find the child and return her to her mother’s throne;

    •   To avenge the brutal ravaging of her mother, his beloved Elaine, and

    •   To trace the royal blood line of their Kingdom of Astolot.

    Blood tells. That red hair and luminous white skin was the royal blood of Astolot. It shone like a fiery brand. The boyish teen-ager (plus 300 years) was more than experienced at not letting this nymph escape his reach. She was the lead to both the child and the mother, his heart, Elaine.

    His shock had been my face. It was the face of Lo-Lo’s mother. There stood his Elaine. Dead on! That’s an unfortunate simile. Elaine had been dead for more than 250 years.

    Today, in the 20th century, he had not expected Elaine. For centuries he had been looking for Lo-Lo, her child, kidnapped so long ago. Now here appeared to stand not Lo-Lo but the face of his Elaine. His One Love, lost to him for centuries. He, standing there alone on that beach, felt tears of joy in his eyes. They were old tears of centuries lost.

    When he had first seen me his heart had jumped. Against all odds, he thought he had found his eternal love, his Elaine. There I was, although dead for three centuries, there stood the spittin’ image of his dead love. Well that’s not as gruesome as Dead on but an even worse simile I think.

    After the shock of moments, he had recognized me as the child Lo-Lo, despite Elaine’s face, the wet, stringy hair and a black neopreen, short wet-suit. Searchers can recognize each other by their aura. Not by their outer appearance. Recovering, he realized this was a baby Searcher, barely out of her teens and not yet properly schooled. She had missed his tell-tale signs. He hadn’t thought to disguise them in his shock of seeing Elaine’s face rise from the ocean.

    No, not Elaine. The hair was wrong. The nymph from the sea had long straight black hair, while Elaine, his Love, had a

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