The Grail and Back Again: Merlin's School for Ordinary Children, #3

By Margaret R Blake

It is the third year since the strange castle, known to the residents of Calder Cove as Merlin's School, appeared in the seaside town. They are still viewing it with trepidation, more so this year as things that had been accepted - though odd - suddenly become dark and dire when a teacher is killed.Students are now more than ever reluctant to enter the confines of the building, but their choices are removed by an enchantment that draws the selected few in. 

Will they find out who the murderer is? Or will the murderer find them first?

 

A fantasy/adventure for all the family.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Margaret R Blake
• Release date: Feb 14, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393882565

Margaret R Blake

Having done all the usual stuff – school, marriage, kids – Margaret moved to Tiaro, Queensland from Tasmania. She’s currently retired and spends a lot of her time writing, reading and talking to herself. She has published several books - children’s fantasy, YA and adult fiction, along with the castle chronicles for Victory Village at Riverbend. The Ring of Curses – her first book in her Merlin’s School for Ordinary Children fantasy series for 9 years and upwards - was nominated for the Ditmar awards, and in 2014 and 2015 Margaret was a featured author in The Premier’s Reading Challenge, Tasmania. She was a literary adjudicator with the 2016 Maryborough Eisteddfod in Queensland. She continues to write and has just published the third book in the Merlin's School series in ebook format, with print soon to come.

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The Grail and Back Again 

Merlin’s School for Ordinary Children -The Grail and Back Again 

MARGARET R BLAKE

All Rights Reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced, stored or introduced to a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form without the prior written permission of the author or publisher.

All characters are strictly of the author’s imagination and in no way resemble anyone living or dead. The historical basis for this story is however correct up to a point, then artistic license takes over.

COPYRIGHT – © Margaret R Blake asserts her right to be identified as the author of this work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

RHYMES and COVER DESIGN – © Margaret R Blake

COVER IMAGE – All credit goes to the original artists

First published 12th February 2021 Tiaro, Queensland

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AND WHY KNOT PUBLISHING

This book is dedicated to Kai; a young man who kindly gave me the name ‘Dragon’s Edge’, which is used within these pages. Thank you, Kai.

With that being said, I would also like to thank my Beta readers; they are the advanced readers who keep authors, like myself, on track.

Natasha M Cleland (artisan and friend)

Julie Whitley (author of The Stalker)

Marti Randel (friend)

Sue Chamberlain (member of the Riverbend Medieval Society)

Anita McGovern (member of the SCA)

Dina Glass (Viking re-enactor)

Merlin’s School  for Ordinary Children  -The Grail and Back Again

1 – Great Expectations

It was a blustery day in Calder Cove. A fine salty freshness assaulted the air and horses made of sea foam bucked across the surface of the bay. A similar frenzied tension was galloping through the senses of the residents of the Cove as well, but there was no explaining that.

Christmas had come and gone in its usual way, though Santa’s helper had not visited this season. Mr Larry Simpson had fallen down a step and made a terrible mess of his right leg, severely breaking it in two places. Unfortunately, no other person was inclined to take the man’s place, seeing the performance as solely Mr Simpson’s responsibility, so the whole town missed out on its annual parade.

It had then rained furiously on New Year’s Eve, with a heavy bombardment of giant hailstones for a finale. Bruised, battered and bewildered onlookers had scattered for the cover of their homes, and the expected fireworks display was turned into a soggy tragedy.

As for New Year’s Day ... it disappeared inside another torrential downpour, with everybody staying within the confines of their houses, only to stare despondently out of their windows. Not one barbecue was lit so Calder Cove’s sausages and chops were saved from a likely cremation, with salads left to wilt alongside sagging pavlovas.

The following day was no better either. The local fish and chip shop had burnt to the ground overnight. The blaze was thought to have started in one of the many fryers when it had been overloaded by an enthusiastic new cook. A terrible smell had ensued and lingered for many weeks after.

It was later disclosed that the nasty pong had nothing to do with the charred timbers and wet ash of the shop; it was more to do with the catch of diseased fish that local abalone divers had unknowingly pulled in sometime earlier that week. Naturally the fish couldn’t be sold so they had been left to rot behind the local market sheds.

To top things off, February the 13th had finally rolled round - a Friday no less - and not a word had been heard from the amazing, six-turreted medieval castle that was known to the community as Merlin’s School for Ordinary Children. The long-awaited parchment invites had missed their usual Christmas day drop-off as well and were still nowhere to be seen.

Many viewed this as an omen of the darkest kind, heralding more terrible things to come. Sadly, they were right, though they were unaware of what terrible things exactly, so everyone thereabouts was in a right tizz.

None more so, than the Cove’s former editor of The Weekly Wailer, Mr Frederick Henry. To him the whole concept was inconceivable. He could not understand why, after only two semesters, the school’s function had seemed to reach an abrupt halt. He was inconsolable, so he wrested back his prior position from his apprentice, Neville Cormac - a strangely quiet boy with a weird blue spot on the end of his nose. Mr Henry explained that he needed to have his say about the abominable lack of respect from the headmaster of the town’s teaching facility, Professor Myer Mendholsonn for leaving everybody in a quandary, without an appeasement of sorts forthcoming!

Therefore ... it was, the very next day after reclamation of his status - Saturday February the 14th - that Frederick Henry issued this short statement.

IS THE CASTLE A SCHOOL OR A CATASTROPHE?

It has been several years since the passing of Mr Riley, and several years since the appearance of our new institute of learning - Merlin’s School for Ordinary Children. While one may have seen the result of these events as a godsend to our community, one must wonder, are we to be forever blighted by a stone monstrosity that now, seems to be of no more use than a pile of useless rubble? Usually this day sees our wonderful, eager and bright-eyed offspring marching off to learn fabulous things that will enable them to be the best people they can possibly be in the future. But instead, they have been forgotten, thrown to the wayside, without so much as a by your leave.

I declare that this is NOT good enough!

I therefore challenge you, Professor Myer Mendholsonn, to explain yourself ... to give the fine residents of the Cove and its surrounding public a meaning behind this unforgivable behaviour. 

Mr Henry was positive that this severe taunt would surely bring somebody out of the woodwork – or stonework in this case – of the fortress; somebody who was willing to give the town’s folk an account of sorts.

But he was to be greatly disappointed, for the end of February drew near, passed on its way, allowing the first week of March to take its place before the editor received any response from the school. And it was only in the way of a personal invitation to share a pot of tea at the local café - The Pig Out. It wasn’t quite what Mr Henry had in mind, but it seemed that it would have to do; it was all he was getting.

The day of the arranged meeting dawned as clear as crystal. Mr Henry awoke with a feeling of excitement, for he had dreamed of an assignation with the famous Professor, Headmaster Myer Mendholsonn, since the opening of the school. The last two years had been the most amazing of his life and, with the help of his daughter, Melissa, he was compiling all sorts of information relating to Calder Cove’s grand school. It was to be Frederick Henry’s greatest work, a history of the town and its magnificent, magical and monumental teaching institution.

He donned his very best suit and knotted his tie with practised efficiency then checked his well-presented profile with a final nod of approval. Now all he had to do was wait - a short interval only - until the appointed time.

With everything as it should be, Frederick Henry settled himself on the family sofa facing the television. A plain round clock hung on the wall just to its right, and it was this that the editor fixed his eyes upon. The minutes ticked by slowly and he watched every one of them closely. It gave him a wonderful sense of expectancy that he relished.

As always, a wait eventually comes to an end and Mr Henry was out the door like a shot when his was over. His lean body strode down the street with military exactitude. It wasn’t long before he was negotiating the long plastic strips that acted as a deterrent to flies - and sometimes people - at the entrance of The Pig Out café.

The place was packed to the rafters with patrons, but Mr Henry forged a path towards the counter and ordered his beverage anyway. He then pushed and shoved his way to the breakfast bar near the front window to claim a high stool to perch on while he idled away his time. His mug of coffee was duly delivered, and he sipped on it impatiently.

The expectant customers finally thinned out when their orders were fulfilled, and Frederick Henry watched as everyone dispersed to engage in their personal pleasures. He harrumphed and tutted as the café emptied, along with his cup. Unfortunately, there was no sign of any newcomers. This included Professor Mendholsonn, but the Cove’s editor wasn’t going to give up easily. He would get himself a refill.

Frederick Henry made his way back to the counter again, but it wasn’t a mug of Brazilian that was placed into his hands this time ... it was a parchment envelope ... a very familiar one.

‘Sorry, Guv,’ the proprietor said as he saw the look of surprise settle on Mr Henry’s face, ‘a wee bit busy before.’

For a moment, Mr Henry could only stand and stare at the thing in his hand as if it were something disgusting - like a sticky toffee paper or a snotty tissue. Then his expression began to morph into one of vagueness. But before Mr Henry could question the messenger another influx of jostling consumers sent him on his way. He soon found himself standing on the pavement outside the eatery, surrounded by an air of both disappointment and dread. Even without opening his letter he understood that it meant the end of a long-awaited encounter that hadn’t even started.

He didn’t look at his correspondence, only shoved it into his jacket pocket unopened. Then, with a gut-wrenching sigh, Mr Henry plodded slowly home. On arrival, he took a seat at the kitchen table and began to mentally explore the possibilities of Professor Mendholsonn’s communication. Nevertheless, Mr Henry knew in his heart that the only way he was to find out what was really going on was to read the darn thing.

Fumbling around in his pocket he extracted the envelope and hastily ripped it open. He perused the inscribed words, only to do so again, his brow furrowing. He couldn’t believe his eyes, so a third reading was put into place ... a loud, astonished and perfectly shocked reading. And this is what the letter stated.

Dear Mr Henry,

Please accept my profound and heartfelt apologies, for all that has come to pass. Alas, another intruder has broken into our school; whether the same scoundrel as before is not known, but it has resulted in the sudden death of our beloved Deputy-Headmaster, Professor Florian Flap. You, of all people, can imagine the chaos that this news would cause if it was leaked to the parents and children prematurely, so I am asking ... nay ... pleading for your utmost discretion. Once the matter has been dealt with, the new school term will be announced. Until then, Merlin’s School for Ordinary Children will remain closed.

Yours in sincerity,

Headmaster, Professor MM

Mr Henry was absolutely gobsmacked by this revelation. How could such a dreadful thing happen inside Calder Cove’s magnificent school? And what was he going to say to his daughter, Melissa, and her friends? They knew of Frederick Henry’s impending rendezvous with the headmaster, so ... in demanding his silence the Professor had not made it easy for the editor. It meant that Mr Henry might have to lie. Not an event he relished!

After much thought and deliberation, he decided that a short declaration would be issued in the next edition of the town’s newsletter - a premature release - as he could ill-afford to wait the week out with his bulletin. He would simply say that the school was experiencing some minor difficulties and have done with it. This would leave the editor’s conscious clear, while appeasing everyone’s curiosity, and ... he was also keeping the Headmaster’s confidences. He concluded that Professor Mendholsonn could explain away everything else in his own good time.

The news of Merlin’s temporary closure was met with a surprising mixture of responses. Most of the children were disappointed - especially the self-assumed new recruits. To have to endure another lengthy wait on top of the one already past was almost unbearable.

There were, of course, some children who simply hated school no matter how different or out of the ordinary it was, and to them the information was a delight to behold.

But then ... there were also some extremely wary parents who saw the earlier calamities of the year as an all-round warning and thought this delay was not such a bad thing at all. It wouldn’t be the first time something untoward had been related to Merlin’s School and, anyone with any sense would wonder.

All in all, there was nothing that anybody could do about the situation. The school’s mystical hold had them enthralled as usual, so there wasn’t much else they could do but to settle down to what they did best ... waiting!

March was well and truly into its third week and thinking about entering its fourth – equinox gone and forgotten – when a parchment invitation was finally spotted at the bottom of James Marley’s bed. It was delivered without warning, yet he was ecstatic anyway. He had believed that when he reached the monumental age of ten years old, he would be placed in Juniper High, along with his obnoxious older brothers, John and Simon.

James was one of the kids who didn’t really like school, but he had heard that Calder Cove’s new school was magical, and he felt that he really needed some magic in his life right now. So, without hesitation, his envelope was torn apart and his entreaty was duly read. And this is what was written upon it.

You are invited to attend Merlin’s School for Ordinary Children.

Please present yourself at the drawbridge on March 31st, 9 o’clock sharp.

And don’t forget to bring your toothbrush.

James jumped from his bed in such a hurry that he trod on the household’s cat. She’d been sleeping peacefully on James’ dressing gown, which was lying on the floor. Now though, she was streaking down the hallway, twice her normal size and yowling at the top of her lungs. James was too excited to waste time placating the animal, so he just wandered joyfully into his parent’s bedroom to share his good tidings.

The next invite to be delivered was Melissa Henry’s. It was found in her mum’s laundry basket and almost ended up in a bucket, along with the family’s smalls that were waiting for a long enzyme soak. The envelope was soon rescued and read, and Melissa was rearing to go. She was caught up in the same fever as her father, Frederick Henry, and loved with a passion, anything to do with Merlin’s School. As a result, she could hardly contain herself. She spent the ensuing days fluffing around in her bedroom writing lists and sorting her knickers into coloured piles.

Orion Sparr received his invitation next. He rang Bridget Lincoln to let her know that invites were on the way.

She didn’t mention this to her mother, Mrs Beverly Lincoln. She’d made such a fuss last year when her daughter’s parchment had been consigned after many of the other children’s that Bridget didn’t want to set her highly-strung parent off into a tailspin. Again!

Then Daffodil and May Stimmer received their invites. Their parents, Fanny and Carl Stimmer threw a party for the occasion, but very few people turned up. Most felt that it was in bad taste after all that had happened in the town during the prior months.

Ernest Digby then got his summons, along with Agnes Merryweather, Willow Flanders and Tilderly Davis. Peter Blundell’s and Jane Ripley’s followed soon after. In a matter of twenty-four hours every invite was where it should be. It was at that point that the inevitable waiting game was put into motion.

2 – Back in the Groove

The interval between the delivery of the envelopes and the actual first day of the school term was rather a low calibre event, with the day itself also being a hum-drum affair compared to the last two years. The anticipation factor was at its lowest, and students and siblings and parents alike were wondering what to expect at the castle’s huge gates. Merlin’s School was getting a reputation; one that was not all good.

As the morning of the 31st grew everyone congregated at the fortress’ perimeters - as was the norm - but this time it was not just the invitations or the mere presence of the castle that had brought folk there.

Curiosities had been tweaked by the long delay and everyone was hoping for an explanation beyond that of Mr Henry’s. While they waited the villagers huddled together in small groups and whispered reverently. Nobody dared to raise their voice in case their speculations became a fact, or they disturbed some other underlying misfortune.

The minutes and seconds seemed to travel at such a slow rate as well and would have some individuals wondering if they had been teleported into a time warp. With the moments dragging on with such intensity the phenomena soon had everyone fidgeting at high speed.

Eventually though, the hour of nine was heralded by the chiming of the school’s clock - a peculiar sound for the clock was not usually heard outside the stone walls of the castle. Still, this could be part of the other extraordinary things that had affected Calder Cove these last few months and should not be misconstrued as a harbinger of more ghastly events to come.

The chiming ceased as abruptly as it had started and the sound of the grand edifice’s huge solid gates sliding aside soon captured everyone’s attention. In the shadows of the breach, Mr Artemus Blokk, Keeper of the Keys and general caretaker stood as still as death itself, never wavering. He only became animated when he stepped aside and hastily motioned everybody forward. This gesture allowed no period for sentiment or farewells, and a tide of silent and anxious students streamed passed him into the school.

Once there Mr Blokk bowed stiffly to those who were left behind, then walked back into the darkness of the interior, swinging an extremely large ring of heavy black keys. The doors of the building started to close then finally slammed shut, leaving outside many flabbergasted - and disappointed - parents and siblings. At least Professor Myer Mendholsonn had put in place a certain amount of formality into the induction of Merlin’s wards, unlike the caretaker.

While Mr Blokk carried out his duty, locking the castle’s entrance securely, the children stood about quietly in the foyer. There were some who twiddled their fingers, worried at what the school would bring their way. And there were others who noted the large hexagonal-shaped glass cabinet, with its magnificent trophies and such; admiring it for what it was with a laudable sigh.

Then ... there were just a few who noticed that one panel had been broken and replaced with a sheet of common ply board. These pupils also noted that the sports mementos were rather haphazardly arranged, and they speculated at the mishap.

It was true that a certain editor of Calder Cove had not mentioned a breach of Merlin’s boundaries, but there were several wards of the same said teaching institution who remembered its recent history. A seed of suspicion was sown into their minds; a seed that would germinate swiftly once its nurturing process began.

With all the security devices firmly in place, Mr Blokk finally whisked the children off, without a thought for their sensibilities, onto the castle’s enchanted green. Those who had experienced this herding gesture before just trundled before him while the newbies trailed nervously behind. Once there, the caretaker left everybody to their own devices, disappearing into the depths of the school before one question was put forth as to the children’s no-nonsense introduction. Everything lately had been shrouded in a certain amount of doom and gloom, but he was rapidly forgotten when all were surprised by a landscape that was about fantasy this day.

How fabulous it was to be hit with a warm scented breeze, that wafted gently over a wonderland of flowers and trees, the likes of which had never been seen before. A gingerbread house sat in a far corner, while a girl in a red cape sat out front, sharing her lunch with a large wolf.  A tiny castle rested in another corner filled with little creatures dressed in their best, coming and going in a busy scene. An orchestra played for ladies and gentlemen who danced a fine waltz. Colourful birds and insects flitted about merrily. And in between all this, picnic baskets sat about on colourful rugs that were spread on a sea of soft grass. It was an ideal setting for the moment, designed to lift the spirits of the children; a marvellous way to start a dubious year!

‘Hey,’ Orion Sparr waved across the enchanted area of the castle. He could see Bridget Lincoln, Tilderly Davis and Ernest Digby bunched together, talking with much fervour and a lot of hand gestures, underneath a tall tree covered in red blooms. They didn’t notice their mate’s attention-seeking action so, wiping at a sweaty top lip Orion made his way over to the group.

‘Hey,’ he said again. This time he was heard, and the trio turned with expressions of pleasure at seeing their friend.

‘Hey, yourself,’ Bridget said, displaying a large grin. She then gave him a quick hug. She had missed his happy face and clever mind.

Tilderly and Ernest smiled their greetings also then the four of them settled themselves on the nearest unoccupied blanket. Ernest dragged a large wicker basket towards him, dipped in his hand and retrieved a couple of crispy brown chicken drumsticks - one for Tilderly and one for himself. They sat munching silently.

Orion also took a quick peek inside the hamper, selecting a sesame seed bun bulging with crisp greenery and sweet tomatoes and proceeded to eat his way through it. It was only when he’d devoured every morsel that he asked of everyone, ‘How was your holiday?’

‘Mine was as dull as ever,’ Bridget replied, swallowing a delicious mouthful of pasta salad. ‘Mum’s now joined the local bowls club and wants me to join too. A great bonding experience she reckons. I mean to say, duh! I’d rather bond with Freddie Kruger. At least he’s got a bit more go in him.’ She rolled her eyes comically as she finished her oration.

At just on fourteen years of age Bridget had better things to do and usually did them with Tilderly - when she had the chance. They often shared girly magazines or painted each other’s fingernails, with the odd bit of gossip thrown in for good measure.

Apart from that there was not much else to occupy one’s self within Calder Cove, unless you were into swimming or surfing, sunbaking or cruising the streets, and checking out who was new in the neighbourhood. The miniature golf course had been closed many years back, and Bridget wasn’t into BMX bikes. As for horse riding, that was a thing of another life, with her pony, Hector, long gone to another home.

‘You?’ she asked, when her thoughts finally rolled to a halt. Orion was a good friend, but they didn’t see each other except during the school year, and their earlier phone exchange hadn’t covered much beyond the strange lateness of their invitations.

‘We went camping for a couple of weeks. Dad’s been promising us forever, but I guess my st-st-stutter problem must have been keeping him poor. Anyway ... we set off after New Year’s, did some fishing ... the normal way, not Professor Tweak’s way,’ he recited with a chuckle. He finished with, ‘Then we went hiking, and mum got a lot of great sketches done. She’s hoping for her own exhibition this coming winter.’

‘That sounds like fun,’ Tilderly said blandly. ‘Makes most of my break sound as exciting as a snail race!’ She smirked at Bridget, who smiled a knowing smile back.

Orion laughed, winking at Ernest, who’d been quietly taking everything in.

‘So ... who won?’ Orion said facetiously.

Tilderly frowned, ‘Well, it weren’t me, that’s for sure.’ She paused then added, ‘If it weren’t for Bridget, I’d have probably gone stir crazy.’ She nibbled on a blueberry macaron. The culinary delight caused her eyebrows to lift with enjoyment and satisfaction, and her earlier and much happier expression returned to her face.

Orion laughed again then asked, ‘Did any of you bump into Melissa? I was just wondering the other day about how her book is coming along.’

‘Only the once,’ Bridget answered with a sly glance at Tilderly. ‘She acted kind of scatter-brained when we first saw her, then