The Magic Scepter

By Martin King

Martin believes The Magic Scepter to be the better of both his novels. Writing was always his passion and finding his way through difficult parts of his life has inspired him to create characters that he can relate to so personally.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris UK
• Release date: Jul 28, 2020
• ISBN: 9781664112131

Martin King

Martin King is a highly qualified British Military Historian/Lecturer who’s had the honor of reintroducing many US, British and German veterans to the WWII battlefields where they fought. He lives in Belgium near Antwerp where he spends his time writing, lecturing and visiting European battlefields. He is a British citizen who has been resident in Belgium since 1981. Previous to that he attended Wakefield Technical and Arts College and followed a foundation course in Teacher Training. In 1981 he decided to continue his academic career firstly with a teacher training course at the famous Berlitz Language School, and secondly with a degree course in European History at the ULB University in Brussels, where he also began studying military history. In 2000 he was offered a position at Antwerp University. Around this time he began writing the first draft of ‘Voices of the Bulge’, a book based on a series of one to one interviews with veterans who participated in the Battle of the Bulge. Later he was joined by co-author Michael Collins who assisted in this project. His voluntary work with veterans and the tracing the individual histories of veterans has been a labor of love for almost 20 years. He speaks fluent German, Dutch, Italian and French. Frequently in demand as a public speaker he has lectured at many British and US military bases throughout the world. His activities came to the attention of some major military documentary makers in Hollywood. The History Channel hired Martin to be their Senior Historical Consultant on their series “Cities of the Underworld”. In 2007 he began a three year assignment to work on the hit series ‘Greatest Tank Battles’, currently the most watched military documentary in the US. Shortly thereafter he accepted an invitation to work as a Presenter/Historical Consultant on the series ‘Narrow Escapes’ with Bafta Award winning documentary makers WMR.He was recently invited to the prestigious West Point Military Academy and Valley Forge Military College in the United States. Due to his extensive work on veteran research, at Valley Forge he was honoured by being asked to officially open the ‘Eric Fisher Woods’ Library. His documentary film based on the book ‘Voices of the Bulge’ is currently in production. Widely regarded as an authority on European Military History, General Graham Hollands referred to him as the “Greatest living expert on the Battle of the Bulge”. Fellow writer and notable historian Professor Carlton Joyce said “He really is the best on the Ardennes". Stephen Ambrose author of ‘Band of Brothers’ referred to him as ‘Our expert on the Battle of the Bulge’.

Book preview

Life on the streets

L istening while the pouring rain pelted on the wooden canopy of what was the shelter for a young girl for the evening, Amy huddled into her tattered sleeping bag trying to preserve whatever body heat she could. The streets of Dublin were a cold and vindictive vulture, whom once sucked you in, never let you go. The wood of the old shop front was breaking away allowing more torrents in than it actually rebounded and Amy’s crimson hair was now soaked and matted to her scalp and face. Her ripped polo shirt and charity bin jacket had more cigarette burns in it than any public house sofa before the smoking ban.

Her coffee cup she used to gather donations to help buy her next meal was now so wet it limped more than a person with leprosy. The girl knew a life of little pleasures as she had been in foster care most of her life and ran away and has been on the capital streets ever since. A girl of twelve should have been at home with her mother curled up in a loving embrace surrounded by warmth and nice pleasantries. Such was not a fate for Amy.

Amy now lived from meal to meal begging for change and hoping a stranger may pity her haggard appearance so much they might buy her a hot meal. During the summer days it was not so bad as the warmth of the evening sun until late into the late hours of dusk helped her keep some warmth. The winter months such as this one were a cold of a mistress as any ill tempered step-mother in any fairy tale book. Amy would have given her right hand to be in that story now.

The icy blast from the evening wind chilled any well dressed man to the core. It froze Amy to the pit of her stomach and then continued to numb her feet and toes. Whatever food she had to line her malnourished body was now sat like a lump of ice at the pit of a chest freezer in desperate need of thawing. The rags in which she huddled around her were so wet and so decomposed that they would have ignited if a single flame was in the locality of a foot from her body.

Yet Amy hoped and prayed that someone would take pity and give her refuge from the harsh weather that was becoming so schizophrenic that not even met eireann could predict it. The shop in which she laid in front of was closed and derelict for some time now, if she really wanted to she could have broken in and sought shelter inside. She knew though that an event like that would attract gardai and they would force her back to a care home. That was the last place she wanted to go near now. As bad as the streets are they were worst.

Huddled against the frame of the old shop front the young girl slowly tried to get some sleep. The patting of the droplets against the pavement had become an all too familiar lullaby for this girl and the musky smell of stale debris in the river of rain was a welcome distraction to cover the fact her belly was aching with hunger. The song being sung by the weather was forcing the child’s eyes to become heavier and heavier and at last she fell into a sleep that could only be described by me as a spell of a faint. It was deep and sudden.

Her sleep that night was hard. It was eased by the fact when she awoke a stranger had tucked a crimpled five euro note into her drenched hand and left some gloves for her. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes she tried to sit up fully and stretch out some of the aches in her arms and legs. The muscles knew the stabs from the wet and cold weather all too well now and the pain was getting to be more severe now. When she coughed her lungs hurt more and more and every breath now was like getting kicked to the back by a bull seeing red.

A few moments of adjusting her sleeping bag and climbing out of her over sized jacket she finally sat up straight and stretched with a vast amount of agony. Her yawn drew in more icy breath into her already suffocating lungs and caused pins and needles sensation right up her throat. Blood rushed to her head giving her the dizzy feeling one gets when afraid of heights and are five storeys up. Amy however just ignored what she was feeling and cherished the thought of going to a fast food drive through to get a coffee and a morning bap. They agreed to serve her but only if she stayed outside and ordered through the drive through.

Some of the workers would take pity on her and give her a large coffee or tea and some would be horrid and run her saying she was not welcomed in the premises. The girl wanted to survive, what was so wrong with that.

Slowly she crept up the sidewalk with her worldly possessions tied up in a single bag. She did not have much but what she had she knew she needed for another night on the streets. Every step stung her feet more and more sending darts up her legs and a feeling of collapse at each trod. What would take a normal 12 year old ten minutes to walk took Amy twenty. She was hunched over like an old woman her back sore and hair matted and hanging in her face. The jeans she wore hung around her tiny waist by a simple piece of leather she found in a dustbin and tied around herself. The runners on her feet were from a time she could crawl into a charity clothes donation bank and get the sleeping bag and jacket out of at the same time. Fate was cruel and vicious and Amy wondered what she had done so cruel in a previous life to justify such a malicious turn of fate.

Finally she arrived at the drive through. A new member of staff gasped as she stared at the once pretty twelve year old girl with horror. The manager was alerted and ran her from the premises saying she was scaring the customers away. All she wanted was a coffee and her breakfast bap. Sobbing with hunger now as her stomach rumbled she slowly climbed to the edge of a dumpster which belonged to the restaurant. She flung the lid open using all her strength and fell into the clear bags with a heavy thump. The clear bin liners identified which had food and which had wash room waste in them. She searched the food ones and found a few half eaten chicken burgers and some cold soggy chips and she swallowed down almost without taking a breath. Why do rich people have so much wastage? she thought.

As she took one of her few breaths between devouring her meal she could hear the co0nstant opening and closing of the restaurant door. While her mouth was full of stale chips she heard footsteps approach the dustbin. Was she about to be caught and ran from this shelter or forced to leave her meal behind as she would certainly have to escape before social services were called. A soft spoken voice called out Amy, are you there?

Immediately Amy knew whom it was that called her. It was Paula. She always took Amy extra food or tea. She did not like Amy drinking coffee as she said it stumped her growth. Slowly the top of Amy’s head peeped over the rim of the bin for Paula to see her hiding place. She lowered her eyes as if unspoken to tell Amy duck so you can’t be seen. Amy did so. In one hand Paula had a rubbish bag in the other she had a paper bag and a drink. With a single swing she flung the bag to the far corner of the bin. Missing Amy completely! The other hand held the paper bag and cup over the rim so that Amy could take the contents and have a meal. She knew from the aroma surrounding the bag it was hot food and greatly appreciated what Paula was doing for her. If her boss saw her giving away food she would be in serious trouble.

Amy’s green eyes met Paula’s gaze and Amy filled with tears and sobbed quietly Thank you. Paula could not help but look down and shed a single tear for this young girl whom was so astonishingly beautiful and yet no one seemed to want her. Paula felt her heart break. She was a single woman in her thirties whom did not have any children of her own. She was dark haired with brown inviting eyes and a build that would put any super model to shame. Her lips suited her so much. Soft simple lips with such a soft spoken and pleasant manner in every word she spoke. The freckles that dotted her face made her seem more human than many of the so called people Amy had come in contact in her short life. Amy held Paula in high regard and knew that this woman was one of the few with a pure heart. Amy vowed if she ever managed to crawl out of the streets and get herself a life together she would do Paula proud and make something of herself.

Devouring the contents of the bag and gulping the hot liquid in the cup Amy felt something she had not felt in days. Her stomach was full and satisfied with the food that laid in it.

Paula had returned to work now so Amy slowly crawled out of the dustbin and started to make her way to city centre to try to beg for some more money to fund her next meal. She slowly took her time as her legs still cramped from the aches and pains she had felt the night previous. People avoided hitting off her and looked down their noses at the young girl walking the streets. This was a good thing as none of them would hurt her by knocking her to the pavement. One woman took one look at her and without a single breath swooped into her purse took out change of about four euro and seventy cent and handed into her hand. No fear of contracting anything Amy was seen to have by other people’s perspective. A single smile came from the lady in the well fitted suit. It was navy pinstriped and a satin blouse of white. Her blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail as she ran in her nike runners to work. Amy was sure she work in legal firm as she was outside the four courts. Amy gave a smile to the lady and before she could thank her she was gone again.

Amy arrives in a new world

P aula now at this stage was back at work but always on her mind was the sweet little girl whom had nothing in this world but what she wore. Her boss told her not to encourage the child to hang around the establishment as it was putting customers off their food. Paula had fought with him so many times on this point and reminded him of all the food that was wasted by them in production every day. He said they were in business to make money not to run a charity. She saw it why not do both.

Amy now was constantly swerving her way through flocks of people whom rushed passed and took no notice of the child that was walking in rags in front of them. Too busy in their own lives to notice those with nothing right in front of them! Amy wondered how many of them tried to settle their own guilt by sending silly cheques or donations to charities they see celebrities supporting instead of donating some time to help out in local charity homes or shops.

Amy used many soup kitchens and slept in a few shelters. Sadly because she was only twelve they asked her too many questions and always the threat of social services was at the back of her mind.

Social Services homes were fine for many experiences by the children in their care. Sadly this was not the case for Amy. She was bullied and teased by the other children and her life was made hell by them in order to feel better about themselves, Amy quickly realised that if anyone had to do something it was all down to her. Being a red haired girl seemed to antagonise the boys and the girls did not like her for her slim build. These were things Amy could not change although if she was honest to herself she did not want to. The girls called her carrot top and the boys called her worst that one could not tell civilised people. Children can be so mean to each other.

She tried to tell the adults of the care home but there were that many incidents that the whole household would be punished and so knew that her life would become more unbearable if she did identify all the cases. In the end she decided to run away.

She had attempted to do so a few times and was always caught and brought back. The sixth time she knew who to avoid and how to go unnoticed and thus she ended up staying out of the care home and stayed on the streets. Hindsight is a great thing to have and Amy wished she could go back but knew her place would have been filled by another needing child and did not want to deprive that child of a bed.

Although she was cold and hungry most days her heart was that of a pure angelic child. She would not wish her existence on any other no matter how cruel or evil they appeared to be. While walking the streets she was banged into by an abrupt man whom knocked her out of her memory and onto the cyclist lane. Dazed she turned quickly trying to get her bearings and jump back onto the footpath. Remember she was slow as she was full of aches and pains from the cold all over her body and without realising it cyclists were approaching at a considerable speed.

Trying to dodge each bicycle she swerved a few. As one approached she turned in time to avoid a blow to the head by the handlebars but sadly did not foresee the second bicycle coming at a shorter range. She received a blow to the side of the head while the cyclist shouted Get out of my way. She went down with a bang to the road and her head hit off the kerb with a blow that knocked her out. While her vision became blurred and blackness approached she could faintly hear Paula screaming her name in a distance. The pitch black approached and Amy lost all consciousness. The sun beamed down on her while she laid motionless on the side of the road, not being able to sense any motions around her she let herself go believing herself to be dead from the blow.

Feeling groggy and sore she slowly pried open her eyes to blinding light. It took her eyes a few moments to adapt to the golden rays that reflected so well off whatever was spread out before her. The golden rays filled her weary and tired limbs with an invigorating new lease of life and she could almost immediately say she felt like a normal twelve year old. Slowly raising her torso up to a seated position she felt a warm breeze calmly blow upon her carrying new scents she has never smelt before. The earth beneath her was not cold and hard as the city pavement but soft and green as if in any field or meadow. Birds sang in nearby trees and flew in the open air circling Amy as if serenading her with a new lullaby for her naps.

After a few moments her eyes had adapted to the intoxicating sights and her other senses to the beautiful aromas and magnificent sounds around her. She was laid on a