by Mac Flynn
Dawn of Legend
Dragon Dusk, Book 1
Mac Flynn
Copyright © 2020 by M. Flynn
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Contents
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
Appendix
Continue the adventure
Other series by M. Flynn
1
Darkness. Cold, merciless darkness. Could anything other than fear arise from that? Could I find more than terror within that blackness?
I was about to find out, and it all started with a broken down bus.
Scratch that. It all started with my crazy friend Lina’s idea for us to go on a group tour of the castles of Wales.
I leaned my forehead against the window and sighed. The beautiful countryside passed by us, but the view was marred by a constant curtain of dreary rain. Most of the trip had been as aquatic as this latest adventure as we bumped along the rough road that marked all rural areas in the world as quaint, but painful.
The bus hit another bump in the rough, narrow road that wound through the wilds. My head bumped against the window. “Damn it. . .” I mumbled as I sat up and rubbed the sore spot.
My oblivious friend sat beside me with a map in her lap. Lina, at twenty-five years of age, was seven years older than me, but sometimes I doubted her birth certificate. She used her finger to trace our route. “That last castle was really neat, but soon we’ll get to Laugharne Castle and see some really neat stuff!”
She’d been having an animated talk with herself for the last half hour. I sighed and glanced around at my immediate surroundings. My friend and I sat in the middle of the short bus. The other roughly dozen seats were occupied by couples and singles, and a few pairs like us. Many wore cameras around their necks, others flipped through their phones admiring their recent pictures taken only a few hours ago at the last castle we visited.
“How soon is soon?” I asked her.
She sheepishly smiled at me. “About fifty more miles, but the bus driver says he’s taking a shortcut, so maybe it’s shorter.” We hit another bump that made my butt leave the seat and drop back down with a hard thump. I grimaced, but slapped a smile on my face as Lina looked to me. “I hope these long rides aren’t boring you.”
I shook my head. “No, not at all. They’re giving me time to-um, to think.”
“About what?” she wondered.
“Um, about-” I glanced out the window. “About the rain, and the hills, and-” I squinted into the distance. “And that really ugly cloud coming our way.”
Lina leaned toward me and pressed me against the wall. “Where?”
I squeezed my arm out and pointed at the distant west. “There.” At that moment a flash of lightning struck the sky, illuminating the worried faces among the passengers. One of them was mine.
Our tour guide, a woman of fifty who with starched clothes down to her starched socks, stood from her seat at the front and turned to us. She grasped a clipboard in her long, thin hands and her nose was as sharp as the pencil that hung from a string tied to the board. Her name was Miss Livingstone, and heaven help you if you forgot the ‘Miss’ part. “It looks like a storm is coming, folks! If you would please keep to your seats I’m sure we’ll be at Laugharne Castle soon.”
“I’m not so sure ‘bout that, Miss Livingstone,” the bus driver, an older gentleman with spectacles, spoke up.
She spun around and her smiling face transformed into the wicked glare of a harpy. “What do you mean by that?”
He nodded at the hood of the bus. A steady stream of steam rose up from the bowels of the engine. “I don’t think this coach is going to ‘old out much longer.”
His words proved to be the death-knell as the bus shuddered and rolled to a stop. The driver stood with a torch and rusted old toolbox in his hands. “I’m going to try to fix this, but I think you should be getting these people somewhere else for the night.”
“Don’t tell me what I should do!” Miss Livingstone snapped.
He shrugged and stepped down the stairs. “Suit yourself,” he retorted as he disappeared outside.
“What’s happening?” one of the older woman called out.
A man stood up and gestured to the window to his right as he looked to our guide. “Where the hell are we?”
Miss Livingstone frowned at the man. “Mr. Proca, please remain seated while the coach driver attempts to fix the engine.”
The driver raised the hood of the bus and great plumes of black smoke rolled out of the engine. I leaned close to the window and watched him stumble to the side of the bus, waving his hand in front of himself as he tried to dispel the smoke from his face. The rain mercilessly pelted his face and he was already soaked to the bone.
“I think I know of a place we can stay,” Lina spoke up as she pointed at her map. “There’s a castle not too far from here that might have enough rooms for us.”
Miss Livingstone turned up her nose. “I don’t think that will be necessary, Miss St. John. I’m sure the coach driver will fix the engine soon.”
The bus driver stumbled up the stairs, leaving a mess of water in his steps. He drew off his cap and slapped it against the side of his leg to get off the damp. Miss Livingstone sneered at him as he flung water droplets all over the front of the bus.
“No doing, Miss Livingstone,” he admitted as he shook his head. “I can’t get ‘er going without a mechanic.”
“But you said you were a mechanic!” she snapped at him.
He stood straight and slapped his damp cap back on. “And one of the best coach mechanics in the area, Miss Livingstone, but this job is going to take two people, and I’m only one.”
Miss Livingstone pursed her prim lips before she turned back to us. “Unfortunately, due to circumstances outside of my control, we will have to remain in the coach for the night.”
A great murmur of disapproval arose from the other passengers. The man from before, Mr. Proca, stood again and pointed at Lina. “What about that castle she spoke of? Why can’t we stay there?”
“Because that castle isn’t on our itinerary, nor would they be expecting such a large group,” Miss Livingstone reminded him.
“We could try, couldn’t we?” Lina countered as she looked to our fellow passengers. “What’s it going to hurt?”
“Here here!”
“Let’s give it a try!”
Miss Livingstone was livid as she clutched her
clipboard. “Very well,” she growled as her narrowed eyes zeroed in on Lina and me. “We will try.”
“I think she’s warming up to us,” I mused as we stepped off the bus. My backpack was snuggled against my back while the other passengers struggled to get their huge wheeled contraptions out of the below-storage bins.
Lina’s eyebrows shot up as she continually wiped the raindrops from her folded map. “You think so?”
“No.”
Lina’s face fell. “But I was just trying to help. . .”
I sighed and laid a hand on her shoulder to guide her away from the bus so the object of our discussion wouldn’t overhear us. There was a convenient hedge that ran along the left side of the road that provided a thick wall on one side for us to huddle again. “I know that and you know that, but Miss Livingstone is the type of person who considers ‘help’ a four-letter word.” Lina still looked a little depressed, so I nodded at the map. “So where is this castle, anyway?”
She perked up and pointed at a small black dot among the many other black dots. “Right here. It’s called Castell-that’s ‘castle’ in Welsh, Chwedlonol.”
“What’s the second word mean?” I asked her.
She shook her head. “No idea.”
“It means legend.”
I stiffened. It hadn’t been my friend who replied. It had been a voice from my left where the wall of shrubbery stood. Lina’s pale face told me she had heard it, as well, and together we creaked our heads around to face the brush.
The face of an old man stuck out from the branches. His eyes were wide and there was a wicked, toothy grin on his face. Lina and I grabbed each other and let out a chorus of screams that showed we were both sopranos. Terrified sopranos.
The face disappeared back into the bushes as our fellow travelers and Miss Livingstone hurried over to us. “What are you two screaming about?” she snapped.
Lina pointed at the bushes. “T-there was an old man there!”
Miss Livingstone squinted for a moment at where she pointed before she shook her head. “I see no one, Miss St. John. Perhaps you were imagining things.”
“I can vouch for her sanity.”
2
The voice was followed by a man who stepped out of a break in the wall I hadn’t noticed earlier. He was the same person Lina and I had seen peeking through the hedges at us, but now he wore a wide-brimmed hat. The rest of his attire consisted of a heavy tan overcoat and black shoes that looked like they belonged more on a dance floor than the mud bowl in which we found ourselves.
The stranger bowed his head and a stream of water flowed off the brim of his hat. “My sincerest apologies. I hadn’t meant to startle the young ladies.”
“Apologies my ass. . .” Lina mumbled.
Miss Livingstone stepped between the group and the man, and eyed him with all the trust of a hen at a fox. “And who are you, sir?”
“My name is David Merthyr, and I am the lord of Chwedlonol Castle,” he introduced himself as he gestured to the area beyond the hedge. “I saw your coach lights from the windows of my castle and thought I might be of assistance.”
At the mention of lordship a smile slipped onto Miss Livingstone’s lips. “That’s very kind of you, My Lord, and I’m afraid we do need some assistance. Do you know where we might find a mechanic?”
“Or a dry bed?” Lina added as she wrapped her arms around herself and shivered.
Mr. Merthyr looked at us with a sympathetic smile. “You all are quite chilled, aren’t you? I have enough rooms to accommodate you all, if you’re so inclined to stay as my guests for the evening. I can have a mechanic fetched for you tomorrow morning.”
“If that wouldn’t be too much trouble,” Miss Livingstone pleaded.
He shook his head. “No trouble at all. If you would follow the dirt path beyond this hedge, it leads directly to my castle. Even in this darkness none of you will be lost.”
Miss Livingstone turned to our group. “Quickly now! Everyone grab what you need for an evening and hurry along.”
‘What you need’ turned out to be all of their possessions as the other bus passengers continued their struggle to free their hefty bags from the under-storage. Lina and I with our backpacks stood beside the hedge with the rain pouring down on us.
“Would you two ladies like some hats?” Lord Merthyr asked us as he reached into his coat and drew out two more broad-brimmed hats.
“Sure thing!” Lina agreed as she eagerly took her hat.
“That’s very kind of you,” I thanked him as I grasped the brim of the other one.
Lord Merthyr grasped my wrist in his hand and I looked up to find myself staring into his keen eyes. Even in the darkness they held a brightness that was almost akin to a glow. Those brilliant eyes studied me and a soft smile slipped onto his lips. “You have a gentle touch, Miss-?”
“Bradfern,” I told him as he released me.
He arched an eyebrow. “That is an unusual surname.”
“My mom told me it got pretty corrupted when my family came through Ellis Island,” I admitted as I set the hat on my head. “Apparently the guy taking the names that day couldn’t get through the Welsh accent.”
Lord Merthyr chuckled. “We are quite a rare people, by language and by customs.”
“And by weather,” Lina quipped as she shook her head. Droplets of water flew everywhere. “This is worse than any other part of the UK.”
“You arrived at a very opportune time,” he revealed as he looked up at the dark skies. “Such weather comes around only once every five hundred years.”
“Your weather records go back that far?” I asked him.
Lina wrinkled her nose as she shook out her map. “And you remember stuff like that?”
His smile took on a slightly slier look as he half-turned away from us. “You might say I have a rather good memory for such things, but come. The weather won’t let up for another few hours.”
Our fellow travelers gathered their trunks. I saw one particular elderly couple, each with their own ancient suitcases, linked arm-in-arm as the gentleman tried to help his wife across the ankle-deep mud that was the road.
I walked over to them with a smile and nodded at their bags. “Could I take those for you?”
“We would appreciate it,” the man answered as they both handed over their suitcases.
The woman set her wrinkled hand atop mine and returned my smile with one so kind that my heart melted. “You’re so kind.”
I shook my head. “It’s nothing. Now let’s get you across this road.”
The wife used my shoulder and that of her husband to steady herself, and we made it to the opening in the hedge. They went ahead, but I paused just beyond the threshold and beheld a sight not seen from the road. There, situated about two miles away from us, stood a castle of such majesty that I couldn’t figure out why it wasn’t on our trip. The stone castle was perfectly square with a parapet around all sides of the roof. The stones in the walls were as long as I was tall, and mocked the passage of time with their untarnished sides. Paned glass windows looked down on us with a gentle expression of welcome, and soft lights from inside bespoke comfort.
I grabbed Lina’s hand as she passed me and nodded at the castle. “Did you read up on this place?”
She shook her head. “Nope. It’s not in any of the guides I bought.”
Lina went on her way, but I stood for a while longer staring at the impressive sight. A gentle touch made me start and whip my head to my left. Lord Merthyr stood at my side. His kindly gaze looked me over with interest.
“Do you approve?” he asked me.
I nodded as I returned my attention to the stately home. “Very much so.”
“Come along, Miss Bradfern!” Miss Livingstone snapped.
I smiled at our host and adjusted my bag and the extra two suitcases I carried. “Duty calls.”
Lord Merthyr took both of the suitcases and offered me his arm. “Allow me.”
I reached for
the suitcases. “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”
He dodged my hands with more energy than I gave him credit and shook his head. “The pleasure is all mine, Miss Bradfern. Now if you will follow me.”
He hurried away with the suitcases, and I joined the throngs of my bus-mates. The dirt path wound its way through a small open field and disappeared into a thick wood that surrounded the castle. Stepping into the shadows of those trees gave us some relief from the pouring rain, but I felt a strange tension in the air. It wasn’t a bad feeling, more like the excitement a child feels on Christmas Eve. The wooded path parted a long mile that was punctuated by the grumbling of my fellow travelers, and there it was. The castle.
The path stopped at an expansive yard that wrapped around the keep. A driveway with a circle looped in front of the castle and led out to our left to another road. Rose bushes stood against the stone walls between the tall paned windows, their flowers proud and tall despite the wretched weather. Large oaks surrounded their castle and their branches offered wonderful shade to the windows. On either side of the house were stone paths that disappeared to the rear and were sprinkled with ferns and wildflowers.
Lina sidled up to me. “I was hoping for a moat.”
“There is a wonderful garden at the rear of the castle,” Lord Merthyr spoke up as he passed by us. He walked to the front beside Miss Livingstone and turned to bow to our group. “Welcome, and I hope you find your stay here most pleasant.” I swear he raised his head just slightly and stared at me with a pointed look.
“That’s very kind of you, Lord Merthyr,” Miss Livingstone replied. She turned to us and clapped her hands. “Come along now! And don’t dawdle, Miss St. John!”
