The Elder Brothers and the Dragon’S Portal

By C. J. Elgert

The adventure continues for Jamie and Nicky as they realise that travelling back in time may be the only way to save the valley from being once again destroyed by Ostrogoth and his warlocks and more importantly stopping someone very close to them from dying. But first, they have to find the Dragons Portal and a spell to open it.

Jamie and Nicky see first hand the destruction and misery the witch-finder causes in 1596. However, they meet the Brillare Seven, the most powerful witches and wizards of all time. If, with their help, Jamie and Nicky cant stop Ostrogoth then no one can.

Will Jamie and Nicky get stuck in the past? What has Connie and her sisters found out about the Veil of Protection that could help them? Will they once again save the valley?

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: May 24, 2011
• ISBN: 9781462014651

C. J. Elgert

C.J. Elgert has loved reading books since she was a child. Every Saturday morning she would go to the library and sign out another mystery novel by Enid Blyton. In her teens she began writing short mystery stories of her own and when she had her two sons; it was an easy transition to write a book where her boys were the main characters, using their love hate relationship made it even easier to bring them to life on the pages of The Elder Brothers and the Padstow Crystals.

Book preview

Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER ONE

In The Beginning

It was a hot evening, following an even hotter day in May 1402. Only the sound of the birds singing their last song of the day, the distant sound of the surf dashing against the rocks and the hoof falls of John Padstows proud chestnut stallion could be heard on the dusty road. John Padstow, looking every bit a nobleman even without his groom, was hoping to make it to the next town before nightfall but the sun was already setting and his horse was tired.

As he looked around, for a place to settle for the night, he heard a faint noise, sure it was a cry for help he reined in his horse and listened. The faint cry came again. The thought of something in pain tugged at John’s heart, he had seen too much suffering in the last few years to pass by without lending a helping hand.

You see, John was a nobleman but also from the witch community. Over the years, the Specials had been hunted down and killed by the Witchfinders who feared them. Now the Witchfinders had stepped up their hunt, they were bribing people to betray their neighbours, which meant Normals were also being killed alongside the Specials and everyone was living in fear. And that is why John Padstow was on this dusty road without his groom or anyone else for that matter, he was on a mission to find a safe haven for Specials and Normals alike.

As his brilliant green eyes scanned the scenery, they came to rest on a bird lying on the ground in a clearing bathed in a shaft of sunlight. John quickly dismounted and led his weary horse into the stand of trees. Bending down, he gently picked up the warm limp body of a golden hawk and as he did so, its wing fell open revealing a bloody gash on its side. Gently holding the wing against the hawks’ body, he stood up and reached for his water pouch hanging from his saddle. He took a handkerchief from his pocket and poured water onto it. Anger swelled up inside of him at the senseless suffering someone had caused this bird. He gently dabbed away the congealing blood and then reached into his saddlebag for another clean handkerchief and wrapped it firmly but gently around the hawk. John opened up his weathered leather saddlebag again and re-arranged his clothes to make a bed for the hawk, he gently laid the bird inside and it gave a soft coo.

By now the sun had set and he decided that this was as good a place as any to rest for the night, he leant the saddlebag gently against a rock and started collecting firewood. Soon he had a warm fire crackling and his supper of beef stew was cooking. The chestnut stallion had been unsaddled, wiped down and fed. Eagerly, the hawk had eaten a few pieces of dried meat. Now it was his turn to eat, unroll his bedroll and sleep.

John sat staring into the fire and he ran his fingers through his shock of red curly hair, he knew it wouldn’t be a restful sleep, every night he dreamt the same dream. He laid down and pulled the blanket over him and, as all previous nights, fell into a fretful sleep. He began to dream. The Witchfinder’s soldiers were rounding up villagers, binding their hands and feet then tossing them into the lake. John tried to run to the villagers but he couldn’t move, his feet were stuck in a bog and he couldn’t get free. He yelled at the soldiers to stop but they just laughed at him, he tried to free himself but the more he struggled the more he sunk into the mud deeper and deeper he went until only his head and shoulders were free. He felt completely helpless; he had to save them but could only watch as they were killed. However, this night it changed, he heard the sound of a hawk overhead; he looked up and saw a golden hawk above him. The hawk had a long silvery rope in its mouth that was dangling above him. John, with every last bit of strength, managed to free one of his arms and reached for the rope, the rope entwined his arm and began to pull him free from the bog. As his other arm became free, he raised it and pointed at the Witchfinders, bolts of lightning shot out, the soldiers went ridged and dropped to the ground. Simultaneously, the hawk swooped down and plucked the people from the water, one by one, laying them gently on the ground, then began to squawk as it flew over them, and a warm golden light enveloped the still bodies, breathing life back into them.

John slowly became aware that the squawking was real and not part of his dream and he opened his eyes, feeling far from rested. The sun was rising bright and clear and it was going to be another hot dry day. He looked over at his saddlebag. The hawk was still there but slightly livelier than the night before; John stretched and pushed his blanket aside. The dream had disturbed him more than normal, it usually ended with him sinking into the mud and he would wake up gasping for breath but this time he had managed, with the help of the hawk, to save the villagers.

While trying to figure out what his dream meant, he plucked out a handful of dry grass, laid it on the smouldering ashes of the fire, and blew on them. Soon flames were jumping to life and he placed some wood onto the crackling fire and then turned his attention to the still squawking hawk.

Yes, yes I hear you he said kindly to the bird.

John took some dried meat from his bag and gently lifted the hawk from his saddlebag and held the meat for the hawk to peck at. He filled his cup with water and held it for the bird to drink. When it had finished, he gently stroked its head. Finally being able push his thoughts to the back of his mind, he laid the hawk back in his saddlebag.

After a bowl of hot porridge and a cup of sweet tea, John packed up his belongings and began to saddle up his horse. As he looked around to see if he had forgotten anything before mounting his horse, he noticed a narrow animal trail leading through the trees. He walked his horse over to it and to his surprise; the trail led between the steep hills and was completely hidden from the road.

Should we check this out boy? he said to his horse and both the horse and the hawk seemed answered him, the horse with a nod of his head and the hawk with a soft coo. Well I’ll take that as a yes he chuckled, This could be exactly what I’ve been searching for He mounted his horse and began to follow the trail.

The trail, thick with huge trees and bushes, and the canopy so dense that the sun couldn’t penetrate, wound between the steep craggy hills for almost two miles. In some places, it was almost impassable, but he pushed on, branches scratching his face and tangling in his bright red hair, at times having to dismount and lead his unwilling horse. Finally, it began to widen out. The trees became further apart and the sun began to penetrate the canopy and then the trail opened onto the most beautiful sunny green valley he’d ever seen. The butterflies were so numerous that the ground looked like it was covered in flowers, deer and rabbits looked up from their grazing, then scampered away, birds took flight and circled over head.

He let his agitated horse graze on the fresh green grass and lifting the hawk from his saddlebag he began to walk around the valley. It was surrounded on three sides by the high steep craggy hills and on the other, sheer cliffs and the stormy sea. His mind was working constantly thinking about how he could make this a safe haven. Its natural fortification was perfect, the meadow on top of the cliffs would be excellent for farmland. Against the steep hill opposite would make an ideal place for a village and up on the hill between the two was exactly the right the place for a castle to protect the villagers in case the Witchfinders found their way in. If they were lucky enough, maybe they could find a way down to the sea to fish.

John had reached the top of the hill and was surveying the valley; still holding onto the hawk and absent-mindedly stroking it’s head. Suddenly the hawk pecked his finger, it didn’t hurt but the shock made him loosen his grip and the hawk flapped its good wing and landed a few steps away on a large boulder. John wondered why the hawk had suddenly pecked him, but as he watched the hawk, a strange thing happened. The rock and the hawk began to glow in yellows and greens, blues and reds and prisms began to shoot out from the rock engulfing the hawk.

Stunned, John staggered back and just stared until the lights faded away. Then the hawk hopped back into his hand and began to peck at the bandage, John gently removed the handkerchief and was amazed to see no sign of any injury. He looked over to the boulder and found himself feeling a great wave of well being, his feet moved towards the rock without John realising it. As he looked down at the boulder, he saw that it was really a crystal encrusted in rock and as he was wondering how he was going to get the crystal out, the boulder cracked in half just like an egg and exposed two perfectly shaped crystals.

John bent down and lifted the melon-sized crystals free from the boulder. As he did, all the scratches and cuts from fighting his way through the trees and bushes healed. That was the moment John knew he had found the safe haven he was looking for, and this was the sight for the castle and home to the crystals. John Padstow never left the valley again.

* * *

The next day the hawk disappeared, John thought it must have flown back to the wild, but later that afternoon, while John was clearing an area to build a lean-to, he heard the familiar squawk, he looked toward the entrance and saw the hawk flying slightly ahead of two men. Instinctively John reached for his sword and approached.

John Padstow? one of the men asked.

Yes John answered still guardedly.

We have been searching for you for ages. We heard that you were looking for a safe haven and wanted to help said the other.

We are from the Pendoggett clan

We were riding to the next town, when this hawk swooped down on us, first we thought it was attacking us, but then we realised it was trying to lead us somewhere, so we followed it.

When we tried to turn around because the trail was too thick, the hawk would swoop down on us again and again until we continued.

Well, if the hawk brought you to me, then I’m glad to meet you and very grateful for the company said John relaxing.

The next day it was agreed, the younger of the two men would bring their families back to the valley and packed his meagre belongings and left. John and the other man built shelters in anticipation of their families arrival and also started gathering up the stones and cutting down trees for the castle.

Over the next few weeks, word travelled like wild fire among the witch community, that John Padstow had found their sanctuary. They came from all over England looking for John Padstow, but not everyone was welcome. Those who found the hawk, who lay injured as it had for John, and cared for it found the entrance. But those who ignored its cry for help were left to wander, even some Normals, who feared for their safety, came in search of John Padstow and they too, if they cared for the hawk, were allowed in.

By the end of summer, there were more than 50 families in the valley. Some had left their homes in the middle of the night with nothing, because they were too scared to let anyone see them leave. Others had brought their livestock and still others had bought their spinning wheels and tools. Everyone did their part in building the castle and by the time winter had set in they were safely in the many rooms of the castle.

The castle’s design was planned very carefully, everyone had a say in the design. There were four towers, one on each corner looking out towards the sea, the entrance to the valley, and the steep craggy hills. Great wooden doors made from whole logs protected the only entrance. An escape passage was built from the kitchens down to a cave on the beach. The entrance from the cave was hidden quite ingeniously by staggering the rock face. Looking straight at it, it looked like a solid wall of rock, but if you moved to the right you could see that one section of the wall was stepped back about two feet. Once passed this there was a series of solid wooden doors before reaching the stone steps to the kitchens.

The great doors of the castle opened onto a large courtyard where, in an attack the animals would be kept. In the middle of the courtyard was a well, where all the water was drawn. The surrounding buildings were three stories high and divided up into rooms. To the left and the right of the great doors of the ground floor rooms were the laundry, the workshops and storage areas for all the food. Opposite the great doors was the main entrance to the castle, the kitchens, were built below ground with massive pillars holding up archways that span the length and width of the castle, set about ten feet apart. Above this was the great hall where all the meals were had and meetings were held. The upper two floors were the living quarters.

Above the great hall were larger rooms where John and his family lived and where he oversaw the running of the valley. He was the obvious choice for a leader; he had found the valley and the crystals, and the hawk, which had led everyone in, sat on his shoulder, as if to remind everyone that he was the chosen one. John also had cast the spell to hide the entrance from anyone wanting to do harm to the residents. The only way in was to have someone from the valley go out and bring them in, and over the next few years many family and friends came to the valley.

Everyone worked together and the castle ran smoothly, some of the women cooked for everyone, others spun wool for clothes, while others made the clothes, some taught the children and others did the laundry. The men tended the fields and animals, built barns and furniture, fixed broken equipment and tools. Fisherman came to the valley, steps were carved out of the cliff down to the beach close to the castle, and fishing boats were built.

The Specials shared spells and potions, coming up with new spells like turning the harsh fabrics into fine cottons, and a potion to help grow apple trees out of apple pips in a few months instead of a few years. However, there was one rule that everyone abided by, and that was absolutely no black magic. Warlocks who liked to inflict pain on the Normals practised black magic and these were who the Witchfinders were after but were very rarely caught and if they were they always used black magic to get away.

The Padstow crystals, as they became known, were kept in the crypt beside the large kitchens, everyone had access to them whenever anyone got hurt and they found that the crystals had other benefits too. People didn’t get sick and if someone had an accident and died the crystals would bring them back to life.

As time went by, everyone began to feel safe and secure. The farmers decided they would prefer to be closer to the fields and animals, so they asked John Padstow if they could build houses next to the fields and the fisherman wanted to build homes at the top of the cliff. Also, with all the new families coming in, the castle was bursting at the seams. It was agreed that a village should be built in the shadow of the castle so that the castle could still be protection for the villagers.

Soon stalls were being set up on the green and the villagers were exchanging their goods daily. Meat for wheat, fabric and wool for clothes, vegetables for fish or tools for furniture. The castle became empty except for John Padstows family and a few of the old men and widowed women who wanted to stay in the castle, they looked after the Padstows and kept the castle clean and tidy. Everyone was happy in their choices and the valley prospered.

The children grew up and had children of their own, new houses were built, and the village expanded. The castle became a home but the gates were always left open. John still oversaw the daily running of the valley, just like he had done as a nobleman in the outside world and the village elected older, wiser men as the village elders to help with the general running of the valley. John designated land for homes and other plots for growing produce. While the elders oversaw the complaints or requests. If there was a dispute that couldn’t be resolved, it went before John who had the final word.

After John died, his son took over and then his son and so on. They all inherited John’s good judgement and compassion along with his brilliant green eyes and red curly hair. Time moved on, villagers were born and died. Relatives were allowed in and their children married villagers. For two hundred years, the village prospered and was safe from the witchhunts that were terrorising the country. Other valleys sprang up around the country as more and more Specials and Normals were being persecuted.

In 1596 something happened to change the valley and villagers forever. It started quite innocently with a woman going to the village elders with a request to allow her cousin, Cyrus Ostrogoth, to come and live in the valley. The request was granted and she went out and brought him back. Things went smoothly at first, but then complaints came from the villagers saying that the cousin was performing black magic. He was called before the elders and was asked to explain.

We’ve had complaints that you’re practicing the dark arts, how do you answer these accusations? asked the senior elder.

It is true, but to combat black magic, you have to understand it and to understand it you have to learn and even practice it. answered Ostrogoth.

That is against everything this valley holds dear, you cannot practice the dark arts inside the valley. said the elder.

You cannot be so narrow minded as to not recognise the power the dark arts can give us over the Witchfinder, they could be wiped from the face of the earth. Ostrogoth said his black eyes flashing dangerously.

That would just prove the Witchfinders point and more would come and more innocent people will die. Do you suggest that we wipe out all Normals just because they fear us? asked the shocked elder.

If that’s what it takes to stop them hunting us like animals, we have the power why not wield it answered Ostrogoth, his anger rising.

But it’s only a small number of Normals who are scared of us, why would you kill all of them?

Suddenly, Ostrogoth was on his feet, his anger at boiling point. They are all small, narrow-minded insects to be crushed underfoot, why spare them, they’re no better than the animals we use for labour.

The elders stared at him, stunned. They looked at one another and nodded. The senior elder looked at the angry face of Ostrogoth and spoke. The elders believe this is not the place for you, this valley was built for the protection of ALL Specials and Normals alike, our most sacred vow is to never use black magic, you will have to leave.

Ostrogoth, realising what he had done, turned a cold smile to them, I’m sorry, I lost my temper, I didn’t mean it. Obviously, I would never want to cause the death of the Normals, please forgive me. he gave a slight bow.

No, we believe it’s in the best interest of the valley if you pack your things and leave.

I’ve said I’m sorry, what more can I say, Ostrogoth pleaded.

No, we have made our decision, you will leave by morning.

I want to see Simon Padstow, it’s my right.

Simon Padstow was summoned and Ostrogoth tried to explain it to him, but Simon agreed with the elders. Out of all the laws that were made for the running of the valley, this was the most sacred and under no circumstances could it be broken. Ostrogoth was told that he either abide by the laws of the valley or he would have to leave. He apologised for his outburst, and promised to stop practising black magic. The elders told Simon that they thought he was dangerous and he should be driven from the valley, but Simon had a soft heart and said they should give him a second chance.

This would be the biggest mistake of Simon’s life and one he would never recover from, nor would the valley. A few days later Cyrus Ostrogoth left the valley and met with a Witchfinder who offered him ten bags of gold sovereigns to lead him and thirty soldiers into the valley.

The villagers ran in panic when they saw the soldiers. Some of the men, with nothing more than sickles and scythes, tried to defend the village but were cut down within minutes. Many made it to the hills to hide instead of going the castle. The children were in school and the teachers led them to safety in the hills. But the people who tried to hide in their