The Jewel of Nirune (The Sword of Time Book 1)

by William Smart

  The Jewel of Nirune

  William B Smart

  Copyright © 2012 Author Name William B Smart

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 10:197964960X

  ISBN- 13:978-1979649605

  DEDICATION

  This is dedicated to all those who listened to my crazy ideas and remained

  My friends anyway.

  Linda, Deanna, Mayette, and Lacey

  Lacey, Kayla and Louis Jasmin are always in my heart.

  Love you Mom who always shared my crazy sense of humor.

  000

  ______________________________________________________

  Thanks all.

  Contents

  1. A Little Adventure Pg. 7

  2. It begins. Pg. 23

  3. Things to come Pg. 36

  4. Destiny Calling Pg. 49

  5. The Wizard Pg. 65

  6. Wolver Magic Pg. 72

  7. A Foreign Land Pg. 83

  8. Something Crawling Something New Pg. 99

  9. Journeys Begin Pg. 112

  10. The Cave Pg. 123

  11. Realization. Pg. 141

  12. Discovery Pg. 155

  13. First blood in the Battle of the Old House Pg. 164

  14. Onslaught at the River Xi Pg. 183

  15. A New- Very Old Friend. Pg. 205

  16. The Road ahead Pg. 220

  17. Willow Pg. 240

  18. Dungeon? Pg. 252

  19. San Xing What Pg. 268

  20 A Witch then? Pg. 276

  21 Ending or Beginning Pg. 287

  22. Endgame Pg. 303

  23. The Ceremony Pg. 321

  24. Epilogue Pg. 338

  Chapter 1

  A Little Adventure

  T

  hings had started out well enough, trekking through the woodland and down the little meadow that separated his father's land from the Williams's huge property. Billy had to cut through the forest in several places and up over the small mountain that everyone called, the rock, which wasn't that big really.

  The township had blown a chunk of it away to lower the hill for easier winter travel. Which he was quite pleased about. It had just been a big old flat rock. Now the dynamite blasting had cut huge chunks out of it, leaving granite cliffs up to about 15 feet high he figured. Some places it kind of looked like a fortress. And he and his older brother Steve took every advantage of it, pretending they were knights in shining armor, guarding the watchtower. Bucket for a helmet washing machine lid for a shield.

  But today the wilderness of trees and rocky outcrops, made it seem more of an adventure.

  "An adventure, fit for a hero!” he proclaimed to no one in particular, as he stumbled over a big rock and almost went face first over the edge. Well, maybe not a hero, he thought picking himself up and brushing off the dirt and twigs, but any boy who thought his life would be better served on some far-off battlefield, or maybe a space adventure rather than well… milking the cows, and slopping the pigs.

  Of course, he hadn't counted on the bugs and the sweat and the dreadful heat.

  Cutting through the trees was far cooler than taking the main road which was boiling this time of day. He was determined to carry on with his mission, of getting to his friend Gary's house before nightfall. It was a five-mile trek that would have been too daunting for a most boys, he thought to himself, especially in this weather. But then again he had just survived the long, cold northern winter and he had no intention of being cooped up in their old run down house another minute.

  Winter here could last over six months and because of the thousands of lakes and rivers and ponds that dotted the whole province, the air was always moist. When winter hit, all of that moisture turned to unbelievable amounts of snow. Sometimes it snowed so hard you couldn't see your hand in front of your face. You could even get snow blindness if you stared at it too long.

  Unfortunately for him, it was his job to water the ten cows his father owned and it didn't matter how cold it got he had to go do it as there was no running water to the barn. And as his father was too busy sitting in the warm house reading cowboy westerns to ever go out to the barn.

  In midwinter the water in the old hand dug well, often froze solid. He would have to climb down into it on a rope with an ax in hand and chop a hole in the ice. With a bucket, he would then haul out enough water for the always thirsty cows and carry it over the snow drifts to the barn. Once the well dried up it got worse, he would then have to drive the cows through the snow to one of the beaver ponds located on their 160-acre farm. Chopping through the thick ice of the pond for the cows to drink was actually easier than the whole climbing down the well thing.

  One of the cows had slipped on the ice and fallen into the hole. It had tried to get out, but the bitter cold slowly sapped its strength. Billy pushed and shoved the animal trying to get it to move, to no avail.

  Finally, he dutifully went to get his father out of the nice warm house. Dad was in no good mood, as usual, cursed him for being a useless little S.O.B. Billy knew full well what S.O.B meant. Dad took one look at the cow, and to Billy’s surprise grabbed the ax he had been using to chop the ice. He wasn't sure how an ax was going to cure the situation. He had expected some rope or maybe a chain to tie around the cow to pull it out of the freezing water.

  He was even more shocked when his father raised the ax and hit the unfortunate cow square on the head. Luckily the ax was the type that has a sharp end for chopping and a flat end for hammering spikes and what have you. Steve had just come out to see what all the commotion was about, and they both cringed as their father went about trying to give the slowly freezing to death anyway, dying cow, a merciful death. By beating it over the head with an ax. Fortunatley, with the hammer end of the ax.

  Anyone can tell you cows have big old bony horns on top of their heads. Trying to kill one by hitting it over that hard head with anything is probably not the best choice in the world. Probably slitting its throat with an extremely sharp knife would have been more humane, as the animal would lose consciousness and die relatively quietly.

  However, they stood there in the blowing snow in horror, as their father, who was a large man, stood over the fallen cow with the ax bludgeoning it again and again saying.

  “Die, you stupid cow! Why won’t you just die!?”

  Finally, a lucky blow to the eye killed the cow. Dad stomped off to the house shoving the now blood-covered ax into Billy's mitted hand as he went by, still cursing about something.

  Billy stood there, a little in shock, in what was fast becoming a blizzard, wondering how he was ever going to get the huge, slowly freezing, somewhat bloody carcass out of the ice and off the path. Personally, he thought that since it was now dead and frozen anyway. Perhaps they should cut it up and use it for food?

  But Dad was long gone back to the warm house. Billy thought of making the suggestion, but decided to keep his mouth shut as Dad often instructed him to do. However it had taken weeks to get this path to where most of the cows could walk on top of the packed snow rather than falling through and then plowing through deep drifts. He sure didn't want to try to make a new one.

  He struggled with the dead animal for a few minutes trying to avoid looking at the terrible wound in its head. He would have been more upset, but it wasn't the first time he had seen his father try to kill something. Not long ago, he had watched as dad tried to kill a very large sow named Suzie by shooting her between the eyes with a rifle called a 22 caliber. The bullets bounced off the Old girls head. In the end, ended up with a slit throat.

  Billy shook his head to try to dislodge that memory. As far as he was concerned it would ha
ve been nicer to just let the damn cow freeze to death and the pig as well for that matter. As it turned out Suzie was a very tough old pig and unlike the lovely store-bought meat, she tasted terrible. In the end, they had to toss most of Suzie out for the dogs. Probably the worst meal of Billy’s life.

  The dead body of the cow only rolled back into the middle of the path as he tried to push it out of the way. He wasn't that big and the cow was maybe 300 pounds and partly in the water still oozing blood which he was trying to avoid. The water was starting to freeze again

  Finally, Steve, who had been watching the whole time took mercy and helped him roll the carcass to the side. They grabbed the stiffening legs and sort of flipping it over a couple times till it was away from the path. Then Steve went back to the house, neither of them saying a word and Billy continued the chores.

  He spent the rest of the winter passing that carcass every day. But mercifully after a time, it covered over with snow. Oddly enough, his mother couldn’t understand why her youngest son often awoke with such terrible nightmares.

  When summer finally came to this northern place, however, it came with a vengeance. As the snow melted away, all the plants and animals were hurrying about their business. Some just waking from a long winter hibernation. Perhaps because of the shortness of summer, there was a feeling of exuberance in the air probably like nowhere else on the planet and no one was more exuberant than Billy. He was fully caught up in it.

  Mom said you could almost see the grass growing. She would always say "Well the grass is grassing and the birds are birding, what you are doing in the house? Get out and play or I will give you something to do". The phrase "Something to do, usually meant, of course, hauling water from the well up to the house chopping wood or some such thing.

  It wasn't that electricity and running water weren't available. It was, just well… They were too poor to have such luxuries, even though the poorest of the neighbors had them. Luckily he was blissfully unaware that his was the poorest family in the township. He was convinced that it was the Stevenson family. God had blessed him with the odd ability to not really realize just how bad his plight was which would serve him well in an uncertain future.

  Leave it to say, his father was about the unluckiest, un-farmeriest farmer in the whole region and had the withered crops and empty pockets to prove it.

  But that’s another story.

  His friend Gary lived on the other side of the Jon Baptist hill. It was a long rolling hill that meandered ever downward to the White River and the Jon Baptist bridge. It wasn't remarkable except that the bridge ran right over a small waterfall and behind the waterfall was a cave.

  The cave was not very deep but it had a kind of fairyland feel. A feeling of magic as one sat in the little grotto warm and dry and watched the waterfalls from the inside. The children pretended it was the entrance to some long forgotten fairyland with dragons and knights in shining armor and had long ago agreed to keep it a secret from the adults.

  There was also a strange story that on certain nights there was a weird green glow emanating from under the bridge. But no one believed it. It was just a story to keep the smaller kids away. Even Marcy Smith, who Billy considered to be a real big mouth had said nothing to the Adults about it. If the adults knew about it, they never mentioned it

  Marcy had pointed out however that the adults had been children once and must have played in the same spot at one time or another. Steve said that if they knew they had probably forgotten about it long ago just like they had forgotten how to play and have fun.

  His bigger brother was by no means his best friend, but once in a while, he made sense. Of course, the falls were something fun and everyone knew adults don't like stuff that is fun because fun usually meant danger. Like the time the children had dug a giant cave in a hill behind the school.

  The teachers had been livid when they stumbled across it. And they came out in a gang to see to the destruction of it. The kids had spent weeks digging the thing with all the joy of keeping secrets from the teachers. But one day at recess a teacher happened to look up from her morning coffee, glance out the window and wondered where had all the children gone?

  The Charlton School was one of those old, two-story Victorian-style schools with big winding stairways and hardwood floors. It was situated on an acre of land and had a luxurious forested yard. There was enough room that the children were kept separated, girls on one side boys on the other.

  The boys' side boasted huge old willow trees. The lowest branch of one was almost two feet in circumference and only about two feet off the ground. Four or five children could stand side by side on that branch. Many games of Robin Hood or Tarzan were played there. Cowboys and Indians were a favorite

  The sun now just crossed the trees and the long eerie shadows of evening had just come out. When he looked up, he realized he had come a long way and he had been so lost in thought he had not even noticed how far he had come or the passing of time. He had also been picking the strawberries along the roadside, they were always delicious. So he hadn't really noticed the slight change in the sunlight as it slipped toward the horizon.

  He began to hurry as he neared the old bridge and odd shadows began to run across the ground. The wind had picked up a little as it will in the evening. The cooling air starts to move, causing whispering sounds to come from the forest and this forest was awfully close. Just a few meters away. The breeze also picked up little bits of leaf debris and tossed them about the forest floor making odd sounds.

  The sun was playing weird tricks as well with the forest shadows now and it was almost like something was moving among the trees. Which was not a crazy idea as northern Canada is rife with all manner of wild things, including bears, wolves, and wild cats, to name just a few.

  Many of which he had seen at one time or another. Add in a few legends about the Will o' The Wisp and the wandering dead and it was enough to make any farm-boy happy to be snug in his house at nightfall. The shadows continued to deepen and he wondered what time it was. Surely it couldn't be that late.

  Sunsets could drop like a curtain here. One minute it was all bright and sunny the next it could get so black you literally couldn't see your hand in front of your face. Which could be a lot of fun when you were playing hide and seek with the other farm kids in your own familiar yard. He was nowhere near his own yard, however. As a matter of fact, he realized that he had never really, actually made this trip alone before, and certainly not so late in the day.

  He stood for a moment at the edge of the old familiar bridge. He could hear the usual friendly gurgle of the water passing underneath and going over the falls. It seemed to have a more sinister sound now, like gurgling voices. As he stepped out onto the huge wooden timbers, his footfall made a hollow haunted thump on the wooden planks. He had never noticed that before. It was unnerving.

  Gary's place was just over the hill and around a little bend. And after all, he had been through this spot a hundred times in the daylight, with friends. The Smiths were erecting a house not far down the river bend, but he was pretty sure it was far from finished.

  He carried on across the bridge and began to hum a little tune as his footsteps sounded hollowly on the old wood. With each echoing step he wanted to run. Perhaps he should have. But his pride made him want to look brave and unconcerned, even though there was no one there to see.

  Finally, he stepped off the bridge and breathed a sigh of relief. "Heheh." He chuckled to himself. "Silly nonsense, nothing to be afraid of just an old bridge", then he caught a movement just in the forest edge, in the twilight just out of the corner of his eye. But when he looked, nothing was there. He knew his imagination could play tricks on him but still...

  He was on his way up the hill now, not long till he rounded the bend and not far to Gary's house from there. He was beginning to really feel like there was a presence, behind him, watching. He glanced over his shoulder and saw nothing. The feeling persisted.

  “Nothing out there, any ug
lier than you, dear,” his mom would always joke when he had to go out and do some late chore on the farm. The joke wasn’t so funny now and there was lots of stuff out there, far uglier.

  It was growing dark a good deal faster than he had expected and the friendly bend in the road seemed far away indeed. He looked back over his shoulder and his heart sank as he saw the sun tipping the horizon.

  Then in a flash of light, it was gone.

  He blinked his eyes several times. That had been a big mistake, it blinded him momentarily and there was a bright white glare in his eyes. He blinked several times trying to adjust. He blinked again, he knew it would take a few minutes for his eyes to acclimatize to the lightless dark. He also knew it would probably be a few minutes before the stars and moon were visible.

  “Oh!” came out of his mouth before he could stop it. He stopped moving. And tried to look around and thought he heard a sound in the deep darkness.

  “Hello?” He said sheepishly.

  The feeling of a presence behind him was growing. Something was coming, he could feel it in his gut! He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force them to adjust. He opened them again. There was a bright white spot burned into his retina! He really couldn’t see anything.

  He began to move forward feeling with his feet. You’d think you could tell if you were going uphill or down even blinded as he was. He stumbled almost into the ditch, but the long grass hitting his face warned him it was there.

  “Not so bad.” He thought, trying to be brave, but panic was beginning to well up inside him. Something was there, he was sure of it.

  "Who's there?" he said into the night, hoping no one would answer. He stumbled backward for a moment losing his balance on a large rock. There was a hissing sound! He fell on the ground again and tried desperately to find a weapon, a rock, anything, but nothing was there, not even the one he had just tripped over, just gravel.