by Sarah Coley
Rogardium
The Emerald Kingdom
by Sarah Coley
Copyright © 2019 by Sarah Coley
Contents
Title Page
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Prologue
The moon was full in the sky, casting a magical glow upon the forest floor. Fallen leaves glittered with crystals formed from the midnight frost, and the forest was quiet, awaiting the awakening of spring and the arrival of new life in the suns warm rays.
A young man by the name of Brandon was frantically running through the forest whilst being careful not to make any sound. He had the hood of his cloak drawn up around him to keep out the cold, and his rapid breath appeared before him as a mist in the cold winter gloom. He carried a bundle in his arms that he guarded with his life, determination etched on his face.
He'd been running from the city of Rogard through the trees for almost an hour now, and so far he'd not seen or heard any signs that he was being chased by the castle guards. The further he got from the city, the more confident he became. The queen herself had tasked him with this mission and he would complete it as if his life depended on it, which it did.
There was a small murmur and a gurgle from the bundle he carried, and he looked down to see the baby was still sound asleep. He was glad. Any noise at any point in his arduous journey from the palace walls to the woodland rendezvous would have meant they would both have been discovered leading to almost certain death.
Brandon had been asked to attend the castle whilst he had been packing away his products for the season, and he had gone to the palace without delay. He couldn't figure out what it was he had done wrong, but he wasn't about to argue with two well build city guards.
He was a simple man, living off the land to the north and selling his produce at the yearly Rogard market. When he'd discovered the reason for his trip to the castle was to help the queen of Rogardium, he'd been more than humbled, although there was part of him that longed to get back to his own family and his two children in the north. The market often took him away from home for long periods, and it had been several weeks since he'd last seen his loved ones.
The Queen had explained to Brandon that she had had a baby in secret, and that the baby’s life was now in danger if the King discovered what she had done. He'd been instructed to take the baby to the elves who could protect it and raise it in the forest, if not find a good foster family for the child. Knowing how far away the elves were, he'd pleaded that it would take more than a week’s ride to reach them never mind travelling on foot, but she had assured him that someone would be meeting him in the woods shortly to continue the journey, although who this person was and where he was meeting them he did not know. He'd been so awestruck with the situation in front of him that he'd forgotten to ask.
He'd been whisked out of a secluded back entrance of the castle by the two burly guards that had escorted him there in the first place, and whilst holding the baby, he had instantly made a dash to the great Elven forests.
Visibility was good with the winter night being clear and no clouds in the sky, meaning he was able to make quick progress. He ran through the trees being careful to dodge trunks and not trip over roots. He had got used to this pace, and had almost forgotten about the contact he was meant to meet, when he spotted someone in the distance about an hour after he had started his journey. He slowed his pace and hid himself behind a large tree in order to conceal them both and get a better look at the cloaked figure in the shadows just ahead of him.
He took a deep breath to steady his nerves, before peaking slowly around the edge of the thick trunk to get a better look, being careful not to hurt the baby that was sleeping soundly, cuddled up tightly to his chest. As his vision cleared the last of the rough trunk that now obscured him from the stranger, he looked into the distance at the spot where the person had previously stood, but to his surprise there was no one there. How could they have moved so quickly? He had only taken moments to conceal himself which was nowhere near enough time for anyone to hide themselves from where they had been previously stood.
Brandon’s eyes started to search the tree line frantically, his breath hitched as he registered the silhouettes of thick branches and foliage, but nowhere in sight was the man that he had thought he’d just seen. He'd heard stories of the strange creatures that lurked in the woods in the dead of night, but he had hoped they were just made up tales children told each other to keep themselves up at night. Now he wasn't so sure.
After one last sweep of the woodland with his eyes, it revealed nothing but the trees and the woodland itself, so he pulled his head back behind the trunk of the tree, thinking carefully about his next move. Maybe he had imagined the whole thing. He was tired and scared after all. It was certainly a possibility.
With his head back behind the safety of the tree where he stood hiding, he started trying to weigh up his options. He was pretty sure whoever had been in the forest a moment ago must have seen him, but so far, he hadn't been approached. Brandon drew his knife out from his belt with his free hand, ready to strike anyone that dared to come too close.
Whilst contemplating this and without any warning, the ground beneath him began to shake and the trees swayed with enormous energy, almost as though a storm had blown in from nowhere. The noise was the loudest he had ever heard and beneath his cloak the baby he held began to awaken and cry. Brandon held the child close, half with comfort and half to try and stop the baby from making too much noise, but by the sound of the deafening roar coming from somewhere nearby, it would be unlikely the baby would even be heard.
Brandon took a shaking breath before peering around the edge of the tree to see if he could discover where the storm had come from. It had been clear skies moments before, and it didn't seem to make any sense to him. How could a storm have hit so quickly? He'd not seen any signs of a storm when he had been running. He decided to turn back to see what all the commotion was about. What met his eyes was something he would remember vividly for a very long time.
Where the silhouette had been stood moments before, was a large swirling mass of blue electricity which spiralled into a spherical black hole in the centre. It was making so much nose and energy, that everything around it swayed and buckled. Occasional flecks of blue lightning would shoot out in all directions, hitting anything they came into contact with and sending it up in flames. Wherever the silhouette had been moments before was gone, leaving only the magical blue spiral straight from the pits of hell billowing in the distance.
Upon returning back to his hiding place, Brandon was met by the large silhouette he had just seen in the distance staring straight back at him. Just has Brandon was about to stab the spectre in the gut, it pulled it's hood down to reveal itself, Brandon gripping his dagger tighter in anticipation.
The person that stood before him was about 6-foot-tall, and had a long flow
ing grey beard. He was old in appearance and carried a staff in his hand. On closer inspection, he had kind eyes and a smile upon his face. Brandon eventually remembered that he needed to find out what this old man wanted and spoke. “Who are you and what do you want?” He asked a little too quickly, his nerves getting the better of him.
“I'm the contact the queen sent to collect the package. I'm to transfer the baby to the elves.” The man said in a posh tone and a sincere smile.
“And how do I know I can trust you?” Brandon asked.
“You can't at the moment, but on my honour, I swear I mean the baby no harm. Now if we've finished with all the questions, please follow me?” The old man gestured with a hand pointing toward the spinning energy.
Brandon took an involuntary step back from the portal, not sure what would happen if he got to close. “What is it?” Brandon asked with apprehension etched on his face. His nerves were beginning to get the better of him and he couldn't trust his own footings. Only an idiot would run toward that thing without any doubt in their minds.
“That my dear friend, is the future of Rogardium. Now shall we begin?”
With a deep breath, the man walked towards the energy with all the courage his could muster, stepping all at once into the unknown.
Chapter 1
Eleanor Smith sat precariously in the drivers seat of her faithful red Ford Fiesta as she tried desperately to navigate her car down a three lane motorway whilst balancing a map in one hand and the steering wheel in the other. She'd never trusted sat navs with their complicated instructions and obnoxious tones, and much preferred to follow a trusty paper map. As she tried to perch the page she needed for her long drive from Manchester to Glastonbury on the dashboard behind the steering wheel, the car made yet another sharp jerk, sending her pen and empty coffee cup flying into the passenger foot well. Eleanor quickly corrected her cars trajectory before sitting back in deep concentration.
In the passenger seat sat her 19 year colleague Owen, who with his cropped black hair and deep brown eye, was staring at her with an amused expression.
“Would you like me to take the map?” He asked whilst taking the now scrunched up paper out from Eleanor's grasp. Owen had been on many car journeys with her, and knew how painful they could be.
“I'm sure I can manage thank you Owen,” Eleanor replied in an irritated tone, “we can't possibly be far now. We've been traveling for 3 hours.”
“Well, Glastonbury Tor is pretty famous, so I'm guessing there'll be sign posts before long,” Owen replied, sighing in exasperation. He bent down and picked up the pen and coffee cup which were now annoyingly rolling around on the floor, and placed them back where they came from. “What's the deal with this case anyway?” He asked. “You sounded pretty worked up over the phone this morning.”
“I was enthusiastic Owen, not worked up,” Eleanor protested.
Eleanor had been beside herself when she'd received a phone call from her boss regarding one Elsie Bruton late last night. In her 2 years as a training PI, Eleanor had never been asked to solve a murder case. Most of her clients were wealthy business people with too much free time on their hands, who wanted to know what their other halves were up to when they were out of town. Eleanor had started her career with the intention of helping people, but sometime wondered if she was actually a glorified relationship councilor. Then last night out of the blue, Mrs Bruton had contacted the agency to ask for their help after the police had dropped the inquiry regarding her recently deceased son. They'd called it an act of God, but Mrs Bruton wasn't convinced.
“Last night, a Mrs Elise Bruton contacted us from her home in Sheffield to ask me to look into the death of her Son Simon Bruton,” Eleanor stated. “Apparently, he'd been visiting Glastonbury Tor for the weekend as a bit of a site seeing trip, but was found a week ago just south of the ruins having been electrocuted. The police looked into the incident but came to the conclusion it was probably an act of God. Mrs Bruton wants us to look over the evidence again as she thinks it could be murder.”
Eleanor looked over to Owen, trying to gauge his reaction. His face changed quickly from disbelief to one of deep confusion. He sat back in his chair brushing his hair back from his face before replying, “How does a guy go walking in the countryside and get himself deep fried? Are we talking fallen power cable or a dodgy phone?”
“No, he was found on the edge of a lightly wooded area to the South of the Tor. There were no power cables nearby, and although he was carrying a camera, it was found several yards away from the body and completely burnt out. The conclusion of the local police report is that he was struck by a freak flash of lightning. It's very rare but apparently it can happen.”
Eleanor turned the air conditioning on to full heat, before tucking an escaped strand of blond hair behind her ear.
Owen was tapping the pen he'd picked up again on the dashboard.
“That's a bad way to go. Why did the mother want us to look into it then, if the police already have an explanation for the death? I mean surely it can't be murder. It's almost impossible to electrocute someone in the middle of nowhere. If someone were to have murdered him, there are a lot easier methods like stabbing or shooting,” Owen was absent mindfully shaking his head.
“She seems to think there might be something more sinister at work,” Eleanor replied. “The local weather reports showed no sign of storm activity that evening, and there was one witness who claims to have seen blue flashing lights in the area where the death occurred.”
“Blue flashing light?” Owen said in disbelief, “what, so the police did it, or maybe it was aliens! Come on Eleanor. There is nothing logical a human being could have used to kill another person in that way. Maybe it was the men in black!” He started to chuckle to himself.
Eleanor rolled her eyes. “Hilarious Owen. To be honest, I have no idea what could have happened, but for £2000 plus expenses and a change in scenery, I'm willing to give it a go. Plus, something seems off about the whole thing to me, although I'm not sure what.”
“Yeah, a guy getting electrocuted with no possible cause or motive, and his mother thinking it's murder is what's off,” Owen replied. He took a deep sigh and closed his eyes in exasperation. “Ok, so what's the plan?” He asked.
“We interview the witness first. He lives just round the corner from where the death happened. Then we check out the scene of the mortality. I also want to scope out the area. See if we can find a logical reason for the flashing lights.”
“Seems sound. What do the police make of you investigating it?” Owen asked.
“I don't think they're that interested to be honest. I did call John Swindon who works for the local PD down here, but he seemed to be relieved to have Mrs Bruton off their backs.”
“Ah, John. You've not mentioned him in a while.” Owen was smirking as he said this, knowing full well Eleanor and John had a jaded history.
“Firstly, whatever happened between John and I in the past is absolutely none of your business if you want to keep your head, and secondly, I needed to speak to someone in that department, and why not an associate I already know?”
Eleanor was annoyed at Owen for teasing her about this one. It was true that she'd been seeing John for several months when he worked in Bury, but that was the distant past now, and she knew there was nothing between them. She had only herself for company, and that suited her just fine. In fact, when she thought of it, Owen was about the only human being she seemed to speak to, apart from her boss and any clients of course. She had no family and no friends, but that's the way it had always been for her.
Realizing he'd annoyed Eleanor and probably stepped out of line, Owen decided to quickly change the subject.
“You know Glastonbury Tor has links to the King Arthur legend right? It was meant to be the sight where Merlin took King Arthur after he was mortally wounded by Mordred. It’s meant to be the gates of Avalon!”
“What’s Avalon?”
“It’s like the afterl
ife so to speak. Merlin wanted to heal Arthur, but instead he put him into a deep sleep, waking only when Britain needed him the most.”
“Riiigghhtt,” Eleanor replied in a sarcastic tone.
“There are lots of sights around Britain that can be linked to Arthur. Glastonbury Tor, Tintagel Castle, Snowdonia. All ancient sites can link themselves back. It’s part of what makes these places magical.”
Eleanor gave joking smirk. “Thanks for that Owen. Please don't tell me I'm going to have two days of you whittling on about Arthurian legend? If you'd put in your CV a year ago that you had an insane passion for babbling on about fantastical mythology 24/7, I'd have thought twice about letting the agency hire you!”
“That's harsh. Personally, I think that's why they hired me,” Owen leaned back in his chair smiling smugly.
“Is that so?” Eleanor replied.
“Yes it is. Besides, who else could fill you with such in depth knowledge of British Folk law.”
“Yes, I suppose it might come in handy at a pub quiz one day,” Eleanor muttered, but couldn't help but smile. They were both silent for a few minutes, taking in the never changing scenery of the British motorway system, before Owen leaned forwards in his chair and squinted as if in deep concentration.
“There you go,” he said with a wave of his hand, “Glastonbury Tor. 20 miles.”
It was just after two in the afternoon when the pair pulled up outside Mr Bourne's residence. Mr Charles Bourne was the only eye witness to come forward after the discovery of Simon Bruton’s body, and Eleanor hoped he would be an important part in putting together what had happened. As Eleanor walked up to the front gate of the house, the whole street screamed suburbia. The houses were all large detached buildings positioned off to the main road. All the gardens had neatly tended front lawns with a menagerie of flowers, and parked outside one house were several expensive looking cars. The people who lived here clearly made a decent living. As Eleanor approached the front door, she took a quick glance in the reflection of her car window.
