The White Horseman

By J.S. Graydon

Dark times threaten humanity

when an ancient magical artifact is unknowingly found by a malevolent sorcerer who is hell-bent on razing both the realms of the Guardians and that of the Humans. He plans to summon forth the first messenger of the Apocalypsethe White Horseman.

In this world of sorcerersboth good and badthere lay a prophecy of one human child, who could save both of their worlds from destruction. In a chain of events that will pull him through the veil that shields the dimensions from each other he will lead a motley band of warriors to the one being that can help them understand the puppet-masters that are raging their unseen war.

With the Immortals looking down, they guide him towards his goalto destroy the mad sorcerer before the White Horseman can be summoned. For if the Horseman returned the time of humanity would be gone forever

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: Oct 3, 2014
• ISBN: 9781480810730

J.S. Graydon

J.S. Graydon, originally from England, was raised with the superstitions and folklore that grew to be this novel. Magic was not only considered commonplace, but was told to be practiced regularly. The author brings this knowledge to the New World. J.S. Graydon now currently resides in Southwest Florida.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

The Bored Child…

D reary English rains, soggy smoking campfires, and midnight trips into the bushes! The camping trip had been one disaster after another. What had started as an adventure had quickly turned into torture. Now, sitting in the car with his sister and father, was a nightmare. It was a tortuous nightmare! Benjamin Bellamy had had enough. Being bored was…horr ible!

They were somewhere north of Brighton driving in the night through some obscure little village. He halfway remembered his father telling him the name – Warninglid. What kind of name was that? Didn’t he say something about Vikings naming it? Ben couldn’t really remember, and he really didn’t care. Twilight was upon them. It was too dark to play video games and his brain was too active to even attempt sleep. Torture!

His sister Ashley was scrunched back in the seat next to him with her eyes closed. Her lips were murmuring the lyrics of some song that Ben could barely hear, the tune rattling in the earbuds attached to her smartphone. Their father, Brian, was driving carefully, owlishly staring out onto the dark little winding road that was so common in these small villages.

Once every mile or so, Ben would see a thatched house or a barn, but as twilight faded further into darkness all that could be seen were trees that were becoming dark blobs beside the crooked road. The headlight beams were concentrated ahead, making their path look eerie and claustrophobic. To make matters worse, fog had begun dribbling in and swirling slowly around the headlights. God, this is boring, Ben thought.

The camping trip had been his father’s idea - a getaway from the rat race. He listened to the rumbling of the car’s tires as the road grew rougher. The road is so narrow here that if another car passes we’ll be forced up onto the shoulder.

It’ll be good to get away from the rat race for a while, his dad said, looking back in the rear view mirror. "This is a great time for a retreat – there is always a silver lining, Ben.

His father looked ahead. If I hadn’t lost my job I would never have had the time for these kinds of things!

Sure Dad, Ben grumbled. But his father was right in a way. After losing his job, the tension and frustration at home had reached an all-time high. The past few months had been an uphill battle. His father was, or rather, had been, a carpenter by trade. Since the housing market had bottomed out there had been little work and many redundancies – his dad had been one of them.

Little regard was made by the government to correct the issues – they had more pressing matters on hand. Tensions in the Middle East had worsened and brought about rising costs that blanketed not only England but apparently, most of the planet. Petrol was at an all-time high. That and fear that another cold war was creeping up on them were constant reminders of the paralyzing fear caused by the old USSR. The children, though not avid news-watchers, sensed the tumultuous emotional waves that rippled throughout Europe. Maybe now was a good time to get away, though perhaps something less boring than a camping trip could have been substituted.

Ben was a worrier. He tried hard not to be, but that was his nature. He over-thought almost every little thing. Quietly groaning as the foggy blobs slipped by outside, he ran his fingers through his brown hair making it more unruly than it usually was. At sixteen, he was a fairly normal boy for his age. Average was perhaps a better description. He didn’t belong to any school clubs, sports, or after-school activities, but he did have friends. He couldn’t think of anything that was special about himself. Normal family, normal home, normal school. Normal, normal, normal. That why he and Ashley had thought the camping trip adventurously intriguing - anything but the monotony of home and school!

Once in a while, he glimpsed a streetlamp peering out of the heavily wooded shoulders. It spilled a gloomy, fleeting light into the road. It’s another universe out here, Ben thought. It was as far removed from the bustling city of Brighton as one could be. In the city, at least there was always light and activity. Now he understood why his brother, Ian, hadn’t come with them. Right now Ian was probably watching TV in their shared bedroom. Lucky duck!

Much, much later, Ben thought back to this night, and how much his emotions had changed. There was no sign in that dark misty night, no hint or inclination of what was to come. His life had been normal. Why he was chosen was…mystifying…

CHAPTER 1

A Fractured Car…

B en leaned his head against the cool car window, tired but unwilling to close his eyes and sleep. The road had become thin again and was steadily progressing downhill. The trees had given way to roadside patches of bluebells illuminated by occasional streetl amps.

We should’ve been there by now, Ben’s father murmured, but now it’s too late to build a camp. If the map is right we should be coming into the village proper. Just for tonight let’s see if we can find an inn or a B&B to stay at.

Fine with me, Dad. A real bed sounded divine after the recent nights of sleeping bags and cold hard ground. Ben had woken up each morning to the grinding ache of stiff muscles. Just thinking about it caused him to massage the back of his neck and knead the soreness between his neck and shoulder blades.

The car bucked to the right as it hit a pothole.

Damn it! Ashley barked. That made my song skip. Eyes open now, she stared out into the darkness. Where the heck are we, another planet?

Relax, their father answered. We’re in a village called Warninglid. It’s too late to set up camp – Ben and I are looking for an inn.

Thank God – I think my bum’s gone numb.

Ben looked over at his sister in disgust. At 5’6" she was the same height as him but a year and a half older. In her faded jeans and sequined skull and cross bones shirt she gave the appearance of a difficult person. And that she was. But she was also the smartest person Ben knew. She had braided her hair into long thin plaits, some blonder than others due to the lemon juice she used to lighten parts of it. She, Ian, and Ben for the most part actually got along pretty well, but like most siblings, they did have their moments.

I’m so sick of this, she groaned dramatically and she fiddled with music controls, groping to feel the buttons in the dark.

Of what? their father asked.

Ben braced for the tirade about to happen, dreading it but glad it was Ashley who had verbalized the very thoughts he was having.

Of this trip! The pitch of her voice grew high, indicating that the question was asinine. When are we going home? There is still a week left of summer holiday. I could actually have some fun. Why didn’t Ian have to come – he should’ve been equally tortured!

Ben saw his dad’s shoulders slump. Any confrontation with Ashley could last for hours.

You know why, Ashley. He is recuperating from his illness and the nightmares that he’s been having haven’t help speed his recovery. He’s better off right now at home with a bit of peace and quiet! Please, let’s not start this again!

She wasn’t about to stop. I mean, this is ridiculous. It’s rained for at least three of the five days. Half the time we can’t even get a campfire going. I’m so sick of this. Ashley’s face looked as sour as her tones sounded.

Ashley, we only have three days left. Can’t you just enjoy being together? When the new school term starts you’ll be going away for three months. Maybe this hasn’t been the ideal holiday but I can think of worst things to do…

Yes, but…

But nothing. I don’t want to hear it. Their father shifted his body and glared in the mirror, back to where Ashley was sitting. We had this conversation yesterday and the day before, and the day before. Just stop, okay?

Listen, Ashley said, ignoring her father and barreling ahead. this wasn’t my idea. We could’ve waited, you knew there would be bad weather, we…

DAD! Ben screamed. Watch out!

The road had curved during the time that their father had been staring into the mirror, and the car had started off the road and up into the damp soil. The car swerved dangerously as Ben’s father attempted to correct the car from climbing up the embankment. They were racing too fast and with little control.

Hold on! Brian shouted. Ben made a grab at the upper strap by his window and held on tightly. Ashley used her right hand to brace herself against the driver’s seat and she used her left to try to hold Ben in place. The car bounced and heaved left, then right.

I’m losing control! yelled their father, panic rising in his voice. The car started racing downhill, the trees coming up at them quickly and being snatched away again as their father reacted. Ben stared at his father, watching transfixed, wishing he could control the vehicle with mental power alone.

DAD! screamed Ashley and pointed ahead.

I see it! he shouted back.

Ben saw the bottom of the hill quickly approaching. At the end of the hill in the headlights was a thick tall hedge. From the upper angle on the hill, he could see fields behind the hedges, with the road taking a sharp left at the bottom. We’ll never make it! he thought.

Within seconds the car plowed through the hedges, sending dozens of sleeping birds flying and screaming out in alarm. The thorny branches screeched across the vehicle. Branch after branch smacked at the car until Ben heard the shattering of the windshield.

Cover your faces!

Ben already had his arms over his face. He didn’t feel the pain as glass shards pierced his hands. The car broke through the hedge and started for the field. They didn’t see the large rock half-buried in the earth until it was too late. The car slammed onto the rock and pitched upwards and right. For an eternity, the car seemed suspended in mid-air at an impossible angle. As the vehicle flew over the rock it flipped, sending its occupants flying. It rolled twice before settling onto its left side. For a moment, the only thing heard was the wheels madly spinning and the pinging of a still hot engine.

CHAPTER 2

Invisible Touch?

B en froze in the aftermath of the accident. The stillness was eerie; all that he could hear now was the noise from the hot car en gine.

Ashley? Dad? he whispered.

No answer. Both members of his family were slumped down and non-responsive. Pain shot through one shoulder and made him gasp in pain. Trembling, he braced himself and unlocked his seatbelt, then slid unceremoniously toward the side. Unable to open the door without crawling upward and over his sister, Ben just sat there. Then the unthinkable happened. The boot of the car opened, allowing access to the outside. Groaning, Ben tentatively pulled himself up to climb out through the boot, only to be grabbed under his arms and pulled abruptly backward out of the car, which wrenched his shoulder even more. He turned to thank the person that helped him, only to see no one. No one at all.

He could still feel the hands in his armpits but there was nothing there. Ben’s heart pounded in his chest. Am I hallucinating? Then he felt the hands release him and he collapsed to the ground. He was trying to convince himself that he was in some sort of shock when he felt and heard hot breath on his face. Unable to cope any longer, his world faded into darkness…

At first, the muffled voices Ben heard didn’t register. They sound dulled and distanced, as if he was listening through mud. Then the pain in his shoulder jolted him into remembering the accident. He bolted upright, only to find himself in a small room with beds in rows. He glanced to his right and saw both his father and sister lying next to him on gurneys. At first he thought them to be dead, until he saw the steady rise and fall of his father’s chest.

He glanced to the end of the long room. Partially hidden behind a curtained division were two people who looked to be arguing with each other. One seemed to be verbally more aggressive, whilst the other was shaking his hands in what seemed an attempt to prove a point. The two people were unlike anything Ben had seen before. The aggressive one was short. Very short, almost dwarf-like, with a white robe that hung far longer than his frame. He leaned heavily on a staff that, even from where Ben sat, could be seen to be carved with intricate patterns. His long wispy beard indicated to Ben that he was much older than the man who stood next to him.

The other was tall enough to have to slump his shoulders and head to fit inside the room. Something is not right with these people, Ben thought.

Quickly scanning the strange area, he realized it was unlike any emergency room he had ever seen. The instruments looked foreign and nothing was readily identifiable. There were bottles of liquid connected to other bottles; he had seen something similar in his chemistry class at school. I need to figure this out. Where are we? Then some shuffling feet at the far end of the room signified to Ben that the conversation was ending. Quickly, he lay back down and mimicked the positions of his father and sister. He tried to slow his now racing heart so that he looked asleep.

The two men walked toward the gurneys. Ben eased his eyes open a slit and stared down toward his feet. It afforded some vision, though limited. The tall man loped over to the tables in front and started fiddling with the bottles. The short man, slow in his walking, took his time. I wish I could see more… Standing almost in front of him, Ben could now hear them talking.

Should we awake him? the tall one asked.

No, no, no. We must wait until we are sure…

But Aedan, he must be the one! We – you, must get Gerhardt down here now! The tall one wrung his hands anxiously. Now closer, his long arms hanging way past his hips looked even more odd. What kind of people are these? Ben unconsciously frowned and that did not go unnoticed.

Malcolm! The boy – he awakens! The tall one called Aedan peered owlishly at Ben, ascertaining his condition. Go get Gerhardt – and hurry! As the younger man loped out of the room the tall one came over to Ben. Using his ornate staff, he poked Ben in the side. Ben struggled to pretend sleep.

Aedan stared at Ben. You can drop the pretense; I know you are awake.

Ben’s mind raced. Should he feign sleep or just be abrupt and address the problem. Fine, he thought nervously, no time like the present. Putting all pretenses aside, Ben sat up.

Where are we? Is my family okay?

The short old man leaned heavily on his cane. When his hand reached up to touch Ben’s shoulder, Ben noticed it tremble. Aedan stopped short of touching him.

All in good time, Aedan replied. All in good time. Your sister and father sleep now. We will not be disturbed. But Ben was disturbed. Everything, including the odd man, was disturbing.

You are Aedan Ben stated. Who are you?

I am the healer, he said simply.

You mean you are a doctor?

Yes, that too.

You don’t look a doctor. What wrong with my family?

I told you. When Gerhardt arrives he will explain. Aedan’s voice carried an almost melodic type quality to it. Ben watched as the old man thoughtfully scratched behind his ear.

Horrified, Ben shouted, What is wrong with your ears?! They were pointed and extremely elf-like. Aedan stared back at Ben.

You don’t have to shout at me. There is nothing wrong with my ears, I can hear just fine. What’s wrong with your ears?

W-what do you mean? an alarmed Ben grabbed at his ears.

Well they’re very flat and rounded. I expect you couldn’t hear very well with ears like yours!

Indignant, Ben replied spitefully. There’s nothing wrong with my ears. Yours make you look like a goblin or something.

Well, then you would be wrong. I’m a Bauchan.

Ben swallowed hard, thinking. A what? There is no such thing.

Really? You should let my wife know that!

This is nonsense, Ben thought and decided to change the subject. Who’s Gerhardt?

The question, dear boy, is not who Gerhardt is but what Gerhardt is.

Riddles, all I get are riddles, thought Ben. He leaned closer to Aedan and rubbed gingerly at his painful shoulder.

Fine then, what’s a Gerhardt?

Gerhardt is… The healer puzzled over this question for a moment. Gerhardt is an Elder of Scione - a man with great power. He makes the wind and he argues with the rain. He provides our safety.

He makes the wind? What kind of dribble is that? What is he – God?

"Goodness no, boy. He is a Protector as I am a Healer. I believe he’s a Daoine Maithe but he’s very close guarded about that.

What’s that?

Loosely translated I believe it means ‘A Good People.’ They are of a race that are said to be salvation’s guardians. A royalty of sorts.

A good people? I don’t understand – that doesn’t make any sense at all, Ben stated.

You’ll see, you’ll see. Aedan, though curious, seemed to have grown tiresome of the bickering. He turned toward his other patients. Ben sighed in frustration. He was getting nowhere. Perhaps he had bumped his head in the accident. Maybe he had a concussion, or perhaps this was a dream.

It seemed an eternity before Ben could hear footsteps echoing outside of the room.

Gerhardt arrives, Aedan announced.

Suddenly a bundle of nerves, Ben sat up on his gurney, wincing in pain. Hurriedly, he racked his fingers through his hair. It couldn’t help but to be presentable. The door to his right opened abruptly and Malcolm stooped to enter. Behind him was apparently Gerhardt, a bearded, older-looking but Ben-sized figure who was perhaps one of the ugliest people Ben had ever laid eyes on. His face was scarred and battered, his body gnarled and twisted, but despite these deformities he moved gracefully and strode in the room quickly, wrapped in a dark blue cloak and carrying a staff.

Where’s the boy?! Gerhardt boomed, briefly glancing at Aedan before fixing his gaze on Ben.

Ben trembled. This man oozed importance and it was obvious he would brook no nonsense. Purposefully, the older man quickly closed the gap between them.

Well then, let’s have a look at him! Aedan quickly propped Ben up with a pillow. The old man peered at him, his eyes squinting for a better look. Are you able to stand? Gerhardt asked.

I – I think so. Ben carefully made his way to the end of the gurney. He was sore and clearly banged up. He sucked in a sharp breath as pain shot through him. Finally he stood in his makeshift hospital gown and the socks he’d been wearing when they had wrecked. He was angry and frightened at the strange ugly fellow that was slowly touring around him.

Are you him? asked Gerhardt curiously.

Whom? Ben didn’t like being inspected.

The Chosen child, the one Gentle Wolf and Trumble have spoken of? Gerhardt gently poked at the boy.

No I’m not! Ben flinched at the old man’s prodding.

Boy, this is very important to me – to us, to Wode Uplands! Gerhardt gestured outward, leaning heavily on a magnificently carved staff that was topped with the heads of two dragons, their tails wound ornately all the way down the staff’s shaft. Each dragon eye was imbedded with a glowing blue gem. The design was so ornate, Ben thought the dragons seemed to writhe around on the wood. The overall effect was disturbing as the dragons’ eyes seemingly glowered at Ben, as though urging him to speak.

I’m not! I swear it! I promise that I’m no one. I’m Ben Bellamy. I was on a stupid camping trip that my brother was supposed to go on with my sister and dad, but my brother got sick and couldn’t go! I’m not whoever you think I am.

Curious indeed, stated Gerhardt.

I don’t understand just what is so curious! He slapped away the long stick that the man was using to prod him.

Hmph muttered Gerhardt. You had better come with me.

CHAPTER 3

A Nervousness Appears

W hat about my family?" Ben asked as he struggled to keep up with Gerhardt. Even though the same size as Ben, the old man strode quickly and purposefully, his long beard swishing back and f orth.

They are suspended in sleep and will not be harmed. Worry is not needed.

Ben jogged to keep up. Where he was, was beyond him. The walls changed with each few steps, from smooth to rocky to shimmering, then almost translucent. The long hallway bore no doors that Ben could see.

While staring at the foreignness of his new location, he practically bumped into Gerhardt as the man stopped short. In front of them were three rock steps that led up and into an enormous room. Ben could tell he was in an office or library of sorts because of the floor-to-ceiling books, though most of the items that were displayed were different, and peculiar.

Come here, boy! Gerhardt’s booming voice knocked Ben out of his revelry.

It’s Ben, sir, he answered as he made his way to one of the far walls.

Look at this, Ben. Gerhardt gestured to the map hanging on the wall. Does it look familiar?

It didn’t. Not even close. What it this, sir?

This, dear fellow, shows you that you are in the realm of Wode Uplands! This is our dimension, our territories if you will. Specifically, you are in the village of Bern Burrows.

But this is England! Not Burnt Bellows! Ben replied, bewildered.

Thoughtfully, Gerhardt wound a strand of his beard around his finger when he suddenly realized the implications of what Ben had said. You are in Wode Uplands, and it’s not Burnt Bellows, it is Bern Burrows.

Wode Uplands Bern Burrows, then, repeated a surly Ben.

Sit down, boy. There is much to tell and very little time. You have come sudden and unprepared. We at Bern Burrows have believed too much in assumptions and I see that although the prophecies will be, they may come in different forms. The old man thoughtfully stroked his beard as he thought how to explain the existence of the Wode Uplands. The best I can put it would be a like a radio. Are you familiar with one?

Of course I am; everyone has a radio!

Well, yes, I suppose you’re right – but not here. Here most would not be familiar with one. Anyway, I digress. A radio works on different frequencies, yes?

Yes, each station has its own frequency. Ben wondered exactly where Gerhardt was going with this.

"Well then, let’s just say that your dimension and the Wode Uplands exist at different frequencies. Both exist simultaneously and separately. Though – every once in a while you can get interference from both stations at the same time. If you use that analogy then that interference becomes the bridge to both worlds. At that moment in time, you have