The Shrouded Sword

By Owen Minter and Robert Bruce Ferguson

Owen Minter takes readers on a rollicking ride through a world of riddles, time travel, and magic. There are diverse heroes, evil creatures, wizards, and an enchanted house in this adventure series about friendship and the battle of good versus evil. Fans of the Fablehaven series and Harry Potter will love this book!

Twelve-year old E

• Language: English
• Publisher: Owen Minter
• Release date: Dec 1, 2019
• ISBN: 9780578593104

Owen Minter

Owen Minter wrote his first story, THE ADVENTURES OF INK MAN, when he was in the sixth grade. He then drifted away from writing, spending his time playing football, singing, and creating art. A brief flutter occurred when his poem, FINALLY ALONE, was published in THE GARNET, the literary magazine of his alma mater, Hampden-Sydney College. A study abroad program in England rekindled his love of stories. After a brief time in banking, Owen was hired by a small company in Charlotte that specializes in storage systems. He joined the ownership group of the company and watched it grow from just three offices in North Carolina to 18 locations in 9 states. He designed and planted two formal gardens, then began a drawing inspired by the Arthurian legend. From this drawing, Owen began to write his first book, THE SHROUDED SWORD, a story of adventure sparked by ancient magic and time travel. When he's not writing, Owen makes paintings with a leaf blower, reads, and enjoys coaching Special Olympics Athletics.

Book preview

1.pngIn a snowy maze, footprints lead off into the distance. Above, in the night sky a ghostly sword glows.An old map of Deadmoor, Virginia

The

Shrouded

Sword

by

Owen R. Minter

~

Text Copyright © 2019 Owen Randolph Minter, Jr.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission of the copyright owner.

ISBN 978-0-578-59310-4

Book Design by Robert B. Ferguson

~

This book is dedicated to Googie and Boo, who inspired me, and to Lucy, who was with me every step of this twelve-year adventure.

I love you all.

Contents

PROLOGUE

Chapter 1: A CURIOUS HOUSE

Chapter 2: A MESSAGE IN THE DARK

Chapter 3: THE THREE-COOKIE PROBLEM

Chapter 4: THE THIRD EYE

Chapter 5: THE FRESCO

Chapter 6: THE ENIGMATA

Chapter 7: THE SHADOW’S SHADOW

Chapter 8: LANCASTER BROWN

Chapter 9: PIRATES

Chapter 10: A SECRET

Chapter 11: THE ISLAND

Chapter 12: THE HIDDEN MAZE

Chapter 13: BLEISE

Chapter 14: THE BATTLE

Chapter 15: SALAMANDRA

Chapter 16: A GRAND LADY

Chapter 17: THE FORBIDDEN ROOM

Chapter 18: THE WIZARD

~

THE SHROUDED SWORD

PROLOGUE

Legend tells of a mysterious wizard from Wales who was born of a human mother and demon father. The wizard was none other than Merlin, who served the greatest of England’s kings, Arthur. Merlin’s fame grew throughout all of Britain until, one day, he fell under the spell of the nymph Nimue. She lured him to an ancient burial mound and trapped Merlin inside. Nobody knows how long he remained her prisoner, or whatever became of Merlin. Storytellers spun tales of his escape and journey to an unknown realm, a New World. Others believe he is still trapped in the tomb for eternity.

Little does the world know that Merlin’s greatest adventure is yet to come.

Another legend is written of a man who began serving a later English king, William III. A Scottish-born ship’s captain, William Kidd, was granted authority by his king to become a privateer. His job was to seize enemy ships for the Crown. Sometime later—no one knows exactly when—he moved away from privateering and turned to piracy. He now served himself and his pirate crew. Captain Kidd seized ship after ship, until one fateful day, he captured a large Indian cargo vessel, the Quedagh Merchant. The ship was heavily laden with priceless treasures from the Orient and the Holy Land. Kidd became rich, and word spread from seaport to seaport of his treasure hoard—diamonds, precious stones, gold, silver—and mysterious weapons used during the crusades. Some even said the weapons were enchanted and once used by the mythic King Arthur himself. Captain William Kidd hid his treasure so well that no one has ever found its location. Many believe that a small island off the coast of the New World is the final resting place of Kidd’s treasure. Others believe the treasure is lost and will never be found.

A road sign along the side of the highway that reads Deadmoor 14 miles

Chapter 1

A CURIOUS HOUSE

The worst Christmas break ever. That’s what Ethan Moseby was thinking as he looked out of the car window at the bare, rolling countryside. An ancient oak tree stood alone on a hill, its skeletal black branches in stark contrast to the overcast gray sky. His parents were dumping him and his sister somewhere out there in the middle of nowhere. He shook his head and returned to the comforts of his video game.

His younger sister, Jynx, was doing a search on her iPad. Listen to this—he lives in Deadmoor, Virginia. That’s a creepy-sounding name for a town, don’t ya think? It says he’s a famous artist.

His art looks as if it were painted by a baboon. Their father, Reginald Moseby, checked his hair in the rearview mirror. As always, there was not a blond hair out of place.

Ethan, look at his picture. He looks freaky, Jynx whispered, holding the tablet so he could see.

Ethan took his eyes off the screen for a split second, not wanting to miss any of Alamein Clash, his favorite game. Yeah, Jynx, he looks like a hippie with that long hair, he said, and then kept playing.

We do not use that butchering of Jynelle’s proper name, Ethan, said their mother, Phoebe.

Ethan rolled his eyes. His mother was always trying to keep everyone and everything sounding proper. He looked at Jynx and noticed how sad she suddenly looked—she really hated the name Jynelle. Ethan shut down his video game and opened his drawing app. He drew the word JYNX and showed it to his sister, who gave him a big smile.

By the way, enjoy your iPads now, children, because you won’t be able to use them at my brother’s house, Phoebe continued. He said they simply won’t work there. He prattled on about some peculiar hocus-pocus—couldn’t understand a word of it. He has no internet, so I was forced to call him on the phone. Terribly inconvenient.

Ethan groaned. No internet? That sucks! Who doesn’t have internet access?

"Ethan, if you hadn’t terrorized your cousins, you could be back at the Minge’s this year, with internet," said Phoebe.

But Ethan’s bratty cousins had made Jynx cry. He thought they deserved every prank he’d played on them. Maybe his uncle’s house would be better. Why haven’t we ever met this uncle of ours anyway?

He’s, well, not like us, said Phoebe. Socrates is reclusive and prefers the country. He was one of father’s ‘lost boys.’ Father volunteered at the orphanage and grew fond of Socrates, adopting him before I was born. Oh, how my father just adored Socrates—thought he was so charming. I can’t see it myself. He and I were never close; Socrates is ten years older than I am. I was surprised when he turned prematurely gray, though. I think it had something to do with an accident he had. Anyway, he’ll look after you well enough. Phoebe looked with disdain at the countryside around her.

Ethan knew his mother preferred the manicured lawns of the country club and the fine shopping districts in Washington, DC, to the open pastures of Virginia.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the car turned into a driveway, passing under a broken wrought-iron archway. Ethan looked out and saw a large black bird perched on a rusted mailbox with the word MAUPIN painted on it in black letters. The bird flew into the air as the car passed. For a twelve-year-old boy, the prospect of life without friends or video games was grim.

This will be the worst Christmas break ever, Ethan whispered.

†††

The man stood at the window of the great house, watching the black bird fly and then suddenly turn into an updraft. As the car made its way closer, he glanced up to the ceiling and said to no one in particular, Gramarye House, please behave yourself while these kids are staying with us. Then, sighing, the gray-haired man rubbed his bearded chin. Maybe I should start with ‘Hello, children.’ No, nobody talks like that. Hmmm, what about ‘Hi, kids, I’m your uncle.’ No, that’s just stupid, he said as he walked to the foyer. There he found the butler peering out of one of the room’s windows.

They’re here, Mr. Maupin, the butler said as he opened the front door.

Socrates’s cane clicked against the stone pavers as the luxury SUV pulled up in front of the house.

Phoebe climbed out of the car, her heels making her stumble on the gravel driveway. Dear brother, how are you? You look, err, splendid? It’s so good to see you!

Socrates raised an eyebrow and then replied, Phoebe, welcome. I hope y’all had a good drive.

Ethan slumped down into the car seat, trying to disappear.

Jynx had her nose pressed against the car’s rear window, her large brown eyes surveying the house. What a curious-looking house—looks like it’s falling down. It needs to be painted, she whispered.

Yep. Ethan watched as his parents approached the rumpled man waiting for them in the driveway.

Ethan’s father, impeccably dressed in a hand-tailored sport coat and shirt, shook Socrates’s hand. Maupin, old boy, we really can’t thank you enough, taking the children like this. I just hate that we must dash off without them this Christmas.

Reginald and I just abhor traveling this time of year, Phoebe said. It’s all so tedious with the crowds, the presents, the tourists.

But didn’t you say this is the fourth year in a row y’all have done this? My, the sacrifices we all must make, Socrates said with a wry smile.

Children, do get out of the car and come greet your uncle, Phoebe said.

The two children slowly emerged from the vehicle. Like his father, Ethan was immaculately dressed, his dark brown hair sculpted to perfection with pomade. Small for her age, Jynx was a little over a foot shorter than her brother; her light blond hair contrasted sharply with the leaden afternoon.

Socrates, this is Ethan and Jynelle. Come, come, darlings. Phoebe waved a manicured hand at the kids.

Jynx winced when she heard Jynelle.

As Socrates stepped forward, the children noticed his limp and saw his unusually gnarled cane. His wrinkled clothes made him resemble an unmade bed.

Welcome to Gramarye House! said Socrates, his voice creaky and thin. I hope y’all had a wonderful drive through the Virginia countryside. Let’s all go inside. I’m sure y’all must be hungry.

Dearest brother, I’m so sorry, but Reginald and I just can’t stay, said Phoebe. Our flight is leaving tonight, and it’s a three-hour drive to the airport. Somehow, I must find the time to pick up my fur coat from storage before the flight.

The children gave brief, awkward hugs to their parents. Ethan knew their mother considered public displays of affection to be uncouth and their father wouldn’t want to risk messing up his hair.

Phoebe handed Socrates a packet of instructions in a manila envelope. It’s all there, dear brother; just call if you need us.

The SUV sped off down the driveway. The children stood with bags in hand, and a tall, gangly man with sandy blond hair and freckles appeared. Let me have those bags, and I’ll take y’all to your rooms, the man said with a heavy Southern drawl.

Socrates said, Thanks, Fergus. Please ask Mrs. Gooch to fix them a snack after you’ve got them settled.

That’s right—they named me Fergus after my grandfather, Granddaddy Bugg, the butler said to the children, leading them into the house. Do y’all like cookies? Boy, I sure do. My favorite is the snickerdoodle, or is it the macaroon? Although there is chocolate chip . . .

As Fergus rattled on, the children took in their new surroundings. To Ethan, it looked like a haunted house. The inside of the mansion had an old and worn look about it, and the walls were in need of a fresh coat of paint. But it did look better than the outside. Colorful Persian rugs were spread over the hardwood floors. A fire burned in the carved stone fireplace, and Ethan noticed a large piano in one of the many rooms they passed. Jynx was busy looking at the paintings—canvases covered in blotches and blobs of bright color.

Y’all’s rooms are right up these stairs, Fergus said, tripping on a step and just catching himself to keep from falling.

As they climbed the stairs, the boards under Ethan’s feet creaked. On each side of the staircase were small niches in the walls where taxidermic birds were displayed. Their glass eyes seemed to follow him as he walked. Jynx, those birds give me the creeps, he whispered.

Yeah, I think it’s creepy too, the butler shouted, stomping up the long staircase.

Ethan wondered if Fergus had superhuman hearing.

Just so y’all know, I got incredible ears. My daddy says I’m like a turkey—I hear everything. Sometimes drives me nuts. Just the other day, I heard a squirrel . . .

Fergus started rambling again, and Jynx couldn’t take her eyes off the stuffed animals. Ethan watched her eyes get bigger and bigger. He knew how much Jynx loved animals. They once had to leave a restaurant because a mounted deer’s head was hanging on the wall.

Ethan whispered, It’s okay, Jynx. Just keep moving and don’t look at them.

Who would do such a thing? Killing an animal just because it’s pretty—displaying it under a glass thingy? Jynx said.

Well, Jynelle, said Fergus, them animals died of their own accord. Them birds were all pets. Mr. Maupin liked ’em so much, he had ’em mounted. You know, taxidermy. I read once the Egyptians used to mummify their cats and bury them with the ol’ Pharaoh.

That’s nasty, Ethan said.

That’s just horrible, Jynx whispered.

They reached another landing, and Fergus turned around to look at the kids. Now, y’all listen very carefully to me. That staircase there leads up the third floor. That’s off-limits. No one goes up there except for Mr. Maupin. Well, Mrs. Gooch goes up there to tidy up. But that’s it.

But what’s up—

Off-limits, Fergus emphasized.

What kind of off-limits? Ethan asked.

Off-limits is off-limits.

Jynx asked, "Oh, Fergus, can’t you tell us, please?" She looked up at him, making her brown eyes larger and flashing a bright smile.

"Look, you two, this ain’t fair. Mr. Maupin gave strict orders that no one enter his private solar, and I can’t tell y’all what’s up there. Just know you ain’t—I mean, you are not allowed," Fergus said.

Ethan wrinkled his nose. What’s a ‘solar’? Are there solar panels up there or something?

Fergus chuckled. To be honest, someone had to tell me what it was too. You see, the solar’s a room on the top floor of the house. What makes it cool is that it has a glass ceiling to let in sunlight.

Ethan and Jynx followed silently, taking their minds off the third floor and wondering what their rooms would be like. Ethan was hoping for a TV, while Jynx looked nervous that something taxidermied might be in her room.

The children’s rooms looked much better than the other parts of the house—the walls had been freshly painted, and there were no mounted animals in sight. Jynx gushed about the canopy bed, chandelier, and cushioned window seat in her room. And even though there was no TV in his room, Ethan had to admit that the fireplace was pretty cool. He was looking at the ornately carved mantle and thinking how great building fires was going to be when Fergus interrupted his daydream.

There will be no fire building by you, young man—you’d burn the whole place down.

Ethan’s eyes widened. He wondered if Fergus could read minds.

As the butler exited the room, he announced, Refreshments in a few minutes if y’all want ’em. Dining room!

Jynx opened his door. I’m hungry, she said, smiling.

Me too. Let’s go down, Ethan said.

Ethan walked ahead of his sister as she rattled on about how much she loved her room. As they entered the main hall on the first floor, they heard a loud BONG! Both children jumped.

What in the world was that? asked Jynx.

That’s probably the bell for the refreshments. Ethan laughed, imitating Fergus’s country accent.

The children found the dining room, where a roaring fire was blazing in the huge fireplace. Their uncle was perched in a chair with a tiny Japanese teacup in his hand.

Socrates Maupin’s khakis and T-shirt were covered in drips and splotches of paint, and on his feet he wore a pair of old sneakers with no socks. He was chubby, with wiry, shoulder-length gray hair that tangled on his head and blended together with his gray beard. He wore round wire-rimmed glasses, which magnified his unusual eyes: one eye was brown, and the other blue.

On a large sideboard sat two teapots and all kinds of pastries, cookies, and what looked like biscuits. Ethan was reaching for a cookie when a short and very plump older woman entered the room.

Kids, this is Mrs. Gooch, said Socrates. She’s the boss around here, and I strongly recommend doing whatever she tells you to do. I always do. He nodded with a mischievous smile on his face.

Socrates Maupin, you never listen to me, you rascal! Mrs. Gooch said and laughed. Her brilliantly red dyed hair contrasted sharply with her pale skin.

Mrs. Gooch and Fergus joined them for a break, and they all sat together near the fire. As he piled more cookies on his plate and munched on a scone, Ethan thought it odd that his uncle’s servants had tea with him. Their servants never ate with them. His hand paused in midair over the cookie platter when he noticed Jynx glaring at him.

Now that we’re all together, let’s talk about Christmas. I want to continue the tradition of hosting a small Christmas Eve party. Mrs. Gooch, would you be in charge of the preparations again? Last year’s party was brilliant, Socrates said.

Mrs. Gooch smiled and blushed at Socrates’s compliment. You just leave everything to me. Fergus, I’ll need your help with the decorations.

Yes, ma’am, it’d be my honor, Fergus said, puffing out his chest.

Ethan noticed there was an older man—accompanied by a large, mangy-looking hound—sitting in a chair beside the window. The man glowered at him and took a large gulp from the earthenware jug he cradled in his gnarled hands.

Socrates saw that Ethan had spotted the man. Children, please forgive my bad manners. Scafell, this is my niece and nephew, Jynx and Ethan Moseby. They’ll be staying with us for Christmas. Kids, this is our gardener, Mr. Scafell Crag. His faithful companion is Silas.

On hearing his name, the dog opened his eyes.

Scafell Crag stood up and nodded to Socrates. Mrs. Gooch, Mr. Maupin, thanks for having me. Time to get back to choppin’ wood, the old man said. It ain’t gonna split itself.

The gardener narrowed his eyes once more at Ethan and left the room. The gray late-afternoon light outlined his thin, sinewy frame as he stepped through the door.

A chill shot through Ethan. Why had Crag looked at him like that?

†††

The rest of the afternoon the children unpacked and settled into their rooms. Mrs. Gooch had told them that supper would be at eight o’clock, so they had some time to themselves.

Jynx, let’s go look around outside, Ethan said. The lights in the second-floor hallway suddenly dimmed. Hey, why would they do that? he whispered.

Uncle Socrates said it’s just an old house—that’s all. You go ahead. I want to chillax, Jynx said, lying back on her comforter and opening one of her always handy books.

It was growing darker outside. The waning fall sun was a blurry orange that couldn’t quite break through the fuzzy gray of the clouds. Ethan tasted the cold, fresh air as he closed the side door of the house and walked out onto the porch. He hoped Crag wasn’t around. Ethan couldn’t forget the mean looks the man had given him.

Gnarled ancient trees surrounded the house, their black branches in dark contrast to the gray sky. Lining the entire width of the expansive backyard was a tall, overgrown hedge. Ethan wondered what was behind it.

Walking to the end of one side of the hedge, he came to a wrought-iron gate set in a stone wall. The gate was chained, but he could see that the wall enclosed an old graveyard. The gravestones looked centuries old, and with the setting sun hitting them just so, the green-and-turquoise lichen on the stones glowed softly.

From behind him, he heard the strangest sound he had ever heard. It was a cross between a fan’s low hum and the amplified purr of a cat. Turning quickly to see what could be making the noise, he found nothing. But the hair stood on the back of his neck, and he could feel sweat on his scalp. A feeling welled up inside of him that he was in danger, and he ran for the house. The rattling buzz behind him became a growl. Ethan ran faster. Reaching the side door, he found it locked. He knew he was trapped and braced himself for the attack, but none came. Then as quickly as it came, the hum was gone.

Thoroughly spooked, Ethan ran around the house to the front doors and, after entering quickly, slammed the door behind him. Ethan exhaled with relief and sat on the stairs. He looked at his hands and saw they were shaking. He had never been so scared.

A shrill burst of crying from the conservatory made him jump.

What’s that? he asked, scrambling to his feet.

Sakes alive! shouted Mrs. Gooch. That child’s raisin’ Cain—turnin’ blue from crying!

Ethan ran to the conservatory to see what was wrong.

"Thank goodness, Ethan!