Ballad Girl

By Robert Collins

Jeremy is the son of the leader of the village of Bald Rock. One day his father asks Jeremy to find a place for Mildred, a young woman who’s turned up and taken over an abandoned house.

Mildred tells Jeremy she wants to turn the house in a place where ballads are kept, a “Ballad House.” He’s talked into helping her, along with three other young people in the village. The five form The Order of The Ballad House, and set about remembering and writing the tales they’ve heard.

What starts as a diversion from village life becomes more than Jeremy ever dreamed possible. He’ll encounter magic and monsters, and feel fear and love. His world will be turned upside-down because of Mildred, the Ballad Girl.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robert Collins
• Release date: Nov 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005463373

Robert Collins

Two people with different cultural backgrounds and ethnicities met at a European and Balkan music and dance ensemble named Koroyar and their lives became intertwined, combining their gifts to continue exploring life as an avenue of creative expression. Robert Collins has a Bachelor of Arts in Anthropology, and has been an educator in the Los Angeles area for thirty years. He studied writing with Joan Oppenheimer in San Diego, with Cork Millner privately, and also in the Santa Barbara Writer's Conferences. Elizabeth Herrera Sabido, at the age of sixteen years, began working as a secretary at the Secretaria de Industria y Comercio in Mexico City where she was born, then she was an educator for twenty-six years, and a teacher of international dance for The Los Angeles Unified School District. She has also studied Traditional Chinese Medicine, and is a Reiki Master Teacher. Attracted by the Unknown, the Forces of the Universe, and the human psyche, during their lives they have studied several different philosophies. Elizabeth has been involved with various religions, Asian studies, and Gnosticism with SamaelAun Weor, and Robert has explored spiritual healing practices in Mexico, and studied with Carlos Castaneda's Cleargreen and Tensegrity. Elizabeth and Robert start their day at four-thirty in the morning. They enjoy playing volleyball and tennis, and in the afternoons play music, alternating between seven different instruments each. Their philosophy of Personal Evolution has led them to explore over 110 countries between the two of them such as Japan, Nepal, Egypt, Bosnia- Herzegovina, the Philippines, Turkey,Russia, etc.

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BALLAD GIRL

by

Robert Collins

Ebook Edition

Copyright © 2020 by Robert Collins

License Notes, eBook edition

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

TABLE OF 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 Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

About the Author

CHAPTER ONE

I have a task for you, Jeremy’s father told him.

Jeremy clenched his jaw to keep him from speaking. Of late, when his father said that or something like it to Jeremy, it meant running around the village speaking to others. It wasn’t that he was bothered by the running and talking. Doing that was more fun than doing chores around the house. It was the nature of these tasks that bothered him.

His father was Gavin, designated by the Duke to be headman of the village of Bald Rock. Of late Gavin was asking his son to convey messages to the men of the village. They were usually related to his father’s position. While it was a sign of the trust his father was placing in him, it was also a sign that Jeremy was almost an adult.

Adulthood was only mildly exciting to Jeremy. There was the appeal of courting a young woman, marriage, and the pleasure of her company. But there would also be his determining if he’d follow his father as a miller, or set out on his own. It was a choice few young men in the village would get, yet it filled him with no small amount of dread. His older brother had already taken to the trade; he worked when their father was busy being headman. If Jeremy followed his father’s trade, he’d work for his brother. He’d never be master of his own fate. If he struck out on his own, he would be his own master, but he’d have to be master of something. That meant moving or learning a new trade. He wasn’t certain of either prospect. So he drifted through his chores and errands, observed the other men of the village in their work, and prayed for some chance to determine what his life would be.

It’s not the usual task for you, Gavin added.

No?

No. That new girl, Mildred, has apparently moving into the house that used to belong to Old Man Paul.

I think it heard that around the village, Father.

That a girl had turned up in Bald Rock was unusual, but not unheard of. The village sat a day’s travel from Hilltop Castle and Hilltown, the seat of the Duke. It was also six days from Grandford, the seat of the kingdom. The road through the village was traveled by merchants and others.

Those others sometimes including women and children fleeing some skirmish between the kingdom and one of the kingdom’s foes, or fighting between other lands. The farmers and villagers along the road were happy to give them a place. Help was always needed, and villages always needed more residents to marry to their own children.

Had you also heard that no one seems to know where she’s come from? his father asked.

I had. There’s no fighting nearby, is there?

No, son, not this year.

Then what’s she fleeing, Father?

That’s what I’d like you to find out. Jeremy, I want you to go to this Mildred. See what she’s doing in that house. Find out if we can make a proper place for her.

What sort of place?

His father shrugged. Damned if I’d know, aside from marrying when it’s her time. He patted Jeremy on the arm. If nothing else, we can find her a proper home. She’s vulnerable on her own.

Yes, Father.

See what you think of her. It’s time for you to start thinking of such things.

Jeremy let out a deep breath.

Now, now, none of that. You need to find a place for yourself, son. His father smiled. Consider this an attempt at a very modest start. Go.

Jeremy nodded to his father and walked away from the mill.

As he understood it, Bald Rock was laid out like most villages in the kingdom. Most villages everywhere, if the bards and merchants were right. The village sat along one side of a small river. Someone long ago had built a bridge across the river, then built the mill. Past the mill were the shops of the smith, the tanner, and a few other tradesmen, and the village tavern. Past those were the cottages of the families who worked around the village, tending chickens, growing vegetables, and doing other odd jobs. Beyond those were the farms where crops were grown or cattle raised.

The house that had belong to Old Man Paul, who had lived in the village longer than anyone could remember, sat between the cottages and farms. It was a proper house. It had been the residence of the headmen and their families for generations. When Paul became too old to serve, Jeremy’s father was granted the position. No one had moved into the house since Paul died a year ago. It seemed too grand for anyone to claim. Jeremy wondered if it was also that it would be too much for anyone who didn’t already have a large family.

The front door was open as Jeremy approached the house. He heard singing from inside. He knocked once and the door and called out. Hello? Mildred, are you here?

Coming! a young woman replied.

There was enough light shining through the windows to see the interior. The main room was plain, just the walls, windows, the door, the floor, and the ceiling. The floor appeared to have been swept. There were no rugs on the floor, nor any curtains over the windows.

Before Jeremy could ponder the matter further, Mildred entered the room, apparently from one of the bedrooms. She was average in height with a build that suggested she might grow into a somewhat shapely woman. She had brown hair that went down past her shoulders, and bright brown eyes. She wore a plain yellow dress that had seen better days, but was far from being threadbare. She seemed like an utterly ordinary young woman.

Then he saw her smile. There was a light to it, as if nothing could darken her mood. However, coupled with her eyes, her face went from cheery to clever. There could be a wit to her happy mood, or a reason for her upbeat manner. It startled him into silence for a moment.

Yes? she asked. She pointed the end of a broom she was holding in her right hand. You’re the headman’s son, aren’t you?

Uh, yes, I’m Jeremy, he replied.

She opened her arms. What do you think?

It’s clean.

Thank you! I’ve been sweeping and wiping and brushing all morning. Would you like to look around?

Yes. He shook his head. Wait. Why show me around?

You’re my first guest.

This isn’t your home.

I’m living here, aren’t I?

Well, yes, for now. It’s one of the things Father sent me here to talk to you about.

Oh, good. I have something to ask of him. She set the broom against the nearest wall. Well, the main room here isn’t much. I’d like to get a stove, if that isn’t too much to ask.

I’ll have to see about that.

Follow me.

She smiled and jerked her head towards the doorway that was to the left of the main door into the house. Not sure how to deal with her, but knowing a thing or two from observing his father, he followed her. The doorway connected the main room to a bedroom. It too was empty.

I have plans for this room, she said. I’ll tell you those in a moment.

A second doorway led from that room to another bedroom. That too had been cleaned, but unlike the other rooms, a few items occupied it. On the floor sat a straw mattress, and on top of it were two blankets and a pillow. He guessed they’d been given to her by neighbors sympathetic to a girl living by herself. Next to the mattress was a pack with a white dress and a red dress, both worn but in fair shape. At the foot of the mattress were a pair of shoes.

This is where I sleep, if you didn’t guess from appearances, she said. For now this is also where I entertain guests. She plopped down onto the mattress. Have a seat.

He thought about remaining standing. I don’t want her believing I have no manners, he mused. If I know anything from watching Father, it’s that a fellow has to be nice to get folks to do ask he wants. But this really isn’t her house. More than that, she barely knows me. Still, if I’m going to persuade her to fit in, I have to indulge her, at least for now.

He sat down at the other end of the mattress. Father wanted me to look in on you, he said. It’s rare that a girl like you comes here all by herself.

She frowned slightly. I think I’m old enough not to be called a girl, young man.

Sorry. Oh, my name’s Jeremy, by the by.

She stuck out her right had. Mildred. I allow my friends to call me ‘Millie.’

He shook her hand. Pleased to meet you, Mildred. Millie.

Pleased to meet you, Jeremy. Though we’re not yet friends, so you’ll have to be proper for now.

Very well. As I said, it’s rare for a girl, or a young woman, to come to Bald Rock on her own. Especially now, seeing as there’s no fighting going on near the borders of the kingdom.

Are wars the only reason why folks pass through this village?

The only reason why anyone stops for more than a night.

I might have an idea on how to change that.

Why would anyone want to change that?

Do you want this village to be like any other in the kingdom? Like any other in the known world?

I hadn’t really thought about that.

I have. I don’t want to settle for a dull place to live.

Then why didn’t you go on to Hilltown, or Grandford?

I might, if I find no satisfaction here.

Satisfaction? What are you talking about?

She grinned, and scooted closer to him. Here’s my idea, Jeremy of Bald Rock. I would like this house to become ‘The Ballad House.’

The ‘Ballad House?’

Uh-huh. I would like traveling bards to perform here.

But there are other places in town. The temple, for one. The tavern, for another.

Oh, yes, I’m sure they’re fine places. But the Ballad House ought to be more than a place to perform. I want it to be a place where ballads and tales are written down.

Written down? Why?

She let out a giggling laugh. To preserve them, of course.

But bards remember their ballads.

Oh, yes, of course they do. She pointed a finger at him. But suppose one of the key words in a ballad is ‘cat.’ Now, one old bard is telling his young apprentice the ballad. However, the apprentice mis-hears the word ‘cat,’ and instead hears ‘cap.’ That could change the meaning of the ballad, couldn’t it?

He let out a laugh of his own. I suppose it could.

It could even sound so silly that the apprentice forgets about that ballad, and thinks up another of his own. If he doesn’t recall what ballads he was taught, they disappear, like the leaves in autumn when the fall, and the snow covers them, and they’re gone when the snow melts. She shook her head. That won’t do. Someone should be writing down the ballads. Keep them so they’ll live on and on and on.

And you want to do that?

I do.

Why?

Well, for one, it would make this place famous. She grinned. For another, it would bring bards here. I can learn from them, so one day I can write my own ballads.

And why do that?

The grin vanished. "Village life is dull. It’s always been dull. Work, get married, have children, work, work, and then one day die. Oh, there’s the occasional visit from a bard. Perhaps you get caught up in some battle, or you’re commanded to join a King’s army. But most of the time nothing ever happens.

"Yet there are tales in the world of brave warriors, mighty Kings, beautiful maidens, wizards, dragons, elves, and goblins, and fairies. Those tales can’t exist without some truth in them. We all know there’s magic here and there. We know that wars are fought. The rest must be true, or else why make all of that up? Even if they are all made up, someone had to have made them up. What if there’s more to make up?

So what I’m thinking that, perhaps, if I start up this Ballad House, and I begin to collect ballads, I’ll know more about these interesting and magical creatures. Perhaps after a few years of that, I’ll learn enough to leave this village, go on adventures, and meet them. If not, well, I can write my own ballads. That might not be as adventurous a life, but it must be more exciting that what goes on in this or any other village.

Jeremy took a few moments to understand what she’d told him. There was clearly a certain amount of reasoning to her notion. It wasn’t at all rambling or crazy. But it was highly unusual. It makes sense, yet it makes no sense.

How did this idea get into your head?

I thought of it on the road here. Why do you ask?

It seems like such a strange idea.

So was writing when it was first thought up. Don’t you think?

He wasn’t certain how to reply to her statement.

"Think about it. We talk all the time. Talking comes naturally to us. Yet at some point, someone thought something ought to be written down. Perhaps they didn’t trust the fellow they were asking to carry their message to someone far away. Perhaps there had been so many fouled messages that someone thought of a better way.

And what was that better way? We have these letters, but they don’t all make the sounds we speak. We have to put together letters to form words. I suppose that was easier than making up a letter or a symbol or something for every single word. Even then, the letters we use aren’t always the letters other lands used, just like the words we use aren’t always the words other lands use.

How do you know all that?

She shrugged. I just do. I learned to read when I was young.

Why?

I don’t know. She grinned again. Perhaps that’s why this idea appeared in my head. I was destined to write ballads.

He shook his head. Her notion seemed at once madness and completely sane. There was reason to it, yet there also wasn’t any reason to it.

As he was trying to make sense of her, she crossed her arms over her chest. Are you going to help me in my quest, Jeremy of Bald Rock? Or will I have to go elsewhere to pursue my quest?

Quest?

Yes. Ballad House is a quest. A quest for ballads, for magic, and for my destiny. She uncrossed her arms and leaned forward. Please say you’ll come along. I’d rather not go on this quest by myself.

He let out a deep breath.