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Masters of the Sacred Fire
Masters of the Sacred Fire
Masters of the Sacred Fire
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Masters of the Sacred Fire

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On a seemingly ordinary farm in the north of England, sinister events are unfolding. Two farm workers, Jacob, a serial daydreamer and would-be adventurer and Walter, a short mute, find themselves in trouble when Jacob breaks the rules set by the cruel farm owner, Grenville. The rule that no one is to talk to his beloved daughter, Eleanor. Only Jacob can’t help himself and after meeting her by chance he falls head over heels in love with her. Jacob knows his master's cruelty but is unaware of what is in store for him.
After somehow finding out his secret, Grenville uses dark and terrible powers to turn Jacob into a twisted and deformed scarecrow. To save his friend, Walter, who is the most unlikely of heroes, steals the scarecrow and takes it far away from the farm. But Grenville sets out to find and destroy him.
Having never lived away from the farm and the warmth of the barn where he slept, Walter soon finds himself lost, cold and alone. He now has to survive a death-defying ordeal on his quest to escape Grenville’s wrath and undo the spell put upon Jacob.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherRS Atkin
Release dateJan 23, 2012
ISBN9781465926098
Masters of the Sacred Fire
Author

RS Atkin

R.S. Atkin (Robert Stuart Atkin) is a music and performing arts teacher working with people with learning disabilities and complex needs. He discovered his love of writing when developing short stories to turn into drama projects for his students. Robert began by creating ‘The Scarecrow of the Pumpkin Patch,’ which after a time grew to become ‘Masters of the Sacred Fire.’ He is currently working on two more books as part of the ‘Chronicles of Fire’ which are the sequels’ to ‘Masters of the Sacred Fire.’ Robert currently lives in North Yorkshire with his wife and son. “The greatest inspiration for my writing is the people around me. They say that truth is stranger than fiction and I believe this to be very true. Most of, if not all characters in my books are based, loosely may I add, on people I know. One of the main protagonists in my book is Walter, who at first appears to have a disability. This disability, it becomes apparent, is part of his extra ordinary powers and as you get to know him you begin to realise that he has a great strength of character which outshines any disability he has. This has been inspired by my students who, when you look past the disability, are rich, colourful and creative people who have a great inner strength. It is that strength which has been the inspiration behind this book.” R.S. Atkin

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    Masters of the Sacred Fire - RS Atkin

    Masters of the Sacred Fire

    R.S. Atkin

    Copyright © R.S. Atkin 2012

    Smashwords Edition

    ISBN: 978-1-4659-2609-8

    This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events and localities is entirely coincidental.

    This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    For my amazing family and beautiful baby boy, Jacob.

    Long before this story told

    A great king ruled a land of gold

    His rule was fair and people thrived

    Riches brought by trade arrived

    With jewels and silks and spices rare

    The people lived without a care

    But greedy hearts did lead some men

    And brigands did a war begin

    Murder and death did ravish the land

    And through the streets blood rivers ran

    So the king sought mystic aid

    A pact with magic users made

    And four great wizards wise and bold

    Warned the king of powers old

    Great flames of awesome power and sight

    To smash the thieves and end the blight

    But in his haste he did not heed

    And ordered the wizards to proceed

    They worked a day and then a night

    To prepare the sacred rite

    But in their rush to summon fire

    Mistakes were made that ended dire

    With fire and ash all life was purged

    Except the wizards who’s souls were merged

    Their bodies burned in magic flames

    Their screams and pain though did remain

    Until all goodness from them did fade

    And so the wicked Spirits were made

    A nightmare realm they did create

    Hidden behind a secret gate

    And from this realm they gathered men

    To spread their evil word and then

    To capture souls to feed the pyre

    And keep alive Sacred Fire

    And now our tale it must begin

    Will goodness fail and evil win?

    Prologue

    It started as an ordinary day. The sun rose on a small, quiet town in the North of England, nestled deep within the heart of the Yorkshire Dales. Rays of sunlight spilled through the clouds and glimmered on the fresh dew of the grass. They sparkled on the old church, lighting up the brightly coloured stained glass window, almost bringing the scene of St Christopher to life. As the cockerels crowed, waking people in the nearby houses, the sleepy town of Monkdale awoke.

    Eric Bottomly was one of the first to leave his house. As he walked out into the street carrying a large box of trinkets to set up on his stall, he groaned. The round, red faced fellow set the box down on the polished cobbles of the pavement and stretched to relieve the ache from his back. He then opened it to set out his goods and waved as Freddy Smithe who ran the stall next to his arrived.

    ‘Morning,’ Eric said in his thick set Yorkshire accent.

    ‘Aye up,’ Freddy replied, scratching his thinly haired flaky scalp. Then as he usually did at this time of the morning, he took a small clay pipe from his pocket, filled it with tobacco and lit it with a match before starting to set out his stall of dried meats, ready for the day’s business ahead.

    Before long, the high street of this ordinary town was bustling with the comings and goings of many characters. People browsed the long trestle tables that were set with the many goods on offer. Nothing very fancy, but then this was not a very fancy place. No precious gems were to be found here or exotic cloths, no spices from India or silks from China. Just your everyday market stall goods and common items.

    In the mid morning, David and Eliza Harper left their compact, thatched roofed cottage and strolled out on to the street, not fifty paces from the market. Bundled up in her arms Eliza held the newest addition to the Harper family. Barely a month old, he contently gurgled and cooed. As the young family turned right out of their door they headed down the road towards the market. They passed by the stalls and as they went exchanged ‘Mornings’ with Freddy and Eric.

    ‘Nice people them, keep their noses clean,’ Eric said once they had gone further down the road.

    ‘Aye,’ Freddy replied, through his teeth clamped on his pipe before turning to attend to a customer.

    In truth, many of the residents of Monkdale kept their noses clean. There was very little crime and it was an all-round peaceful place to live. Barry Hognose, the town’s chief watchman, knew this only too well. He took pride in his work and always made sure his armour was shiny and rust free, his spear and short sword well sharpened and ready to deal with any criminal activity. This was however fairly pointless in this town.

    He would strut around the streets on his beat out of duty and routine, and would pray some days for action; a robbery, a raid, anything to stir things up and let the town know they were in good hands and that he would protect them. As he marched down to the market, his hobnailed boots clicked on the stone cobbles and his chain mail clanked about him. He bought a shiny red apple from John Melonworthy’s stall, twirled his long greying moustache between his thumb and forefinger and sighed before taking a bite.

    ‘Another boring day,’ he mumbled to himself.

    As he continued on his beat he got to Eric’s and Freddy’s stalls. He browsed Eric’s array of candle sticks, horse brasses and lanterns.

    ‘Come by all these legally I hope?’ He asked in a firm tone.

    ‘Oh yes sir Mr Hognose sir,’ Eric replied.

    ‘Thought as much.’

    ‘Ere Barry, seen the new Harper boy, have you?’ Freddy said tipping the used contents of his pipe on the floor and refilling it from his red leather pouch.

    ‘Aye, I have,’ Barry replied.

    ‘He is a little treasure,’ Freddy continued. ‘Barely out of the womb and already winning hearts with that cheeky grin of his. He’ll have you on your toes in years to come no doubt.’

    ‘And I don’t doubt it neither,’ Barry replied, smiling at the thought of a young David scrumping for apples and chasing hens. ‘He is a fine looking boy I’ll give him that, got his father’s ample nose, and locks too I’d wager.’

    ‘Never go bald. Not like you, eh Freddy?’ Eric said chuckling to himself. Freddy gave a sarcastic smile and lit his pipe, blowing the smoke into Eric’s face, causing him to cough.

    ‘Well at least I ain’t no tub of lard,’ Freddy quipped. ‘And I’ll have you know baldness is a sign of being smart. Miss Potts is quite taken with all us bald men. She said it must be the brains pushing the hair out from the inside, all us clever chaps are bald she says.’

    ‘Brains?’ Eric said in shocked manner whilst smirking. ‘Well I’ve never heard that one before. Are you sure she wasn’t just humouring you? I know you better than most and it’s not brains that fill that big daft head of yours.’

    ‘Right then lads, I’ll bid you good day,’ Barry said cutting in. ‘And keep out of trouble, I know what you aging bachelors are like.’ And with that, Barry Hognose plodded off down the road to continue on his predictably uneventful beat, leaving the two men bickering at their stalls like an old married couple.

    David, Eliza and their only child continued on. They passed the old stone church, the blacksmiths, the stables and the pottery works and on to the small guard hut where Bill the old town guard sat dozing. Out of the town they went and down the lane into the open green fields that stretched out as far as the eye could see and beyond. The stony cart-road that led out of the town was ill maintained, full of pot holes and rough. Not the ideal terrain to carry a baby. But off they went regardless, starting their journey to Cropwell village.

    The sun beat down on the loving pair as they walked, taking it in turns to carefully carry their precious bundle. They chatted and giggled, making the most of being out of the hustle and bustle of the town and David couldn’t remember the last time he felt this care free. He left behind him all the stresses of his life, worries about work, money and repairs that needed to be done to the house.

    For now none of that seemed to matter. He, Eliza and their baby boy just enjoyed being together, wandering across the rich green land. After a mile or so they turned off the road and found a soft patch of grass on which to have their lunch. David unpacked his bag. He first took out a soft woollen blanket and placed it on the ground. Then with great care and tenderness took his son and placed him down. Thankfully the baby was undisturbed by this change and only stirred slightly, letting out a gentle sigh. David then continued to unpack his bag, producing a ready cut loaf of bread, some butter and a small block of cheese. As they ate they could hear the sheep in the distance bleating and their baby slept soundly, twitching and flickering his eyes as if far away in a dream.

    ‘I can’t wait to get to Cropwell,’ Eliza said excitedly as her young pretty face lit up with a great smile. ‘Mum and Dad are going to be so happy to see their first grandson.’

    ‘Yep,’ David replied, cramming a doorstep sized piece of bread into his mouth. ‘At least now they’ll see I’m good for something.’ He grinned as the bread filled his cheeks. Eliza laughed, slapping him lightly on the shoulder. She then quite differently from her husband, nibbled on a piece of cheese. ‘Perfect day for a walk too,’ David continued looking up at the blue sky. ‘Your parents will be pleased to see we’ve brought the weather with us.’

    As they ate, relaxing in the perfect scenery, an unseen pair of eyes watched them with envy and malice. David and Eliza, too caught up in this perfect moment did not at first notice the strange whispers on the faint wind, uttering words in a strange language. As the spell was spoken, the sky began to darken and clouds began to fill the sky. It was not until a great shadow swept towards them that David and Eliza noticed this change in the weather.

    ‘Looks like I spoke too soon,’ David said flatly, his wide smile turning to a frown at the thought of losing the good weather.

    ‘Yes. Trust you to curse our journey by saying that,’ said Eliza. ‘We’d best get going then if rain’s on its way.’

    ‘Typical,’ David remarked. ‘We’ve had no rain for weeks and as soon as we decide to go out anywhere a flipping storm pipes up.’

    ‘Well, no point moaning I suppose,’ Eliza said. ‘I just wish we’d been more prepared. If the little one gets soaked he’s sure to catch a cold, poor thing.’

    ‘No time to waste then. I don’t fancy getting drenched either and we’ve got miles to go yet before we reach Cropwell, you don’t fancy just going back do you?’

    ‘Absolutely not, we’ve been looking forward to this trip since he was born, and I’m not going to let some shower stop us.’ Eliza looked hurt at the thought of not being able to show her parents their son. ‘And besides which, we promised ourselves he would not be named until the christening tomorrow and I’m not about to spend the next few weeks referring to him as our baby.’

    ‘Well we could call him David until then. That’s a good name.’

    ‘And for the last time we’re not calling him David!’ Eliza gave her husband a stern look, and then wished she hadn’t. She hated arguing and they very rarely did, but she couldn’t help herself from feeling irritated. Her eyes softened as David, not wishing to argue either conceded from saying anything else that might upset her and he leaned forward kissing her gently on the cheek.

    David then quickly packed up their half eaten lunch into his bag and carefully picked up their son, wrapping him neatly in the blanket he had laid on for extra warmth. They then headed briskly back to the road.

    As they walked they readied themselves for the downpour, expecting any moment to feel the first of the raindrops splashing on their heads and the air to be filled with a steady pattering sound. Only it never came. Instead the clouds continued to form, the sky bulging with the gray and black, dense, shadowy forms and in only a matter of minutes the sun had been almost completely blacked out, leaving the two walking in darkness.

    ‘What the hell?’ David said. ‘I’ve never seen anything like this. You don’t think it’s an eclipse do you?’

    ‘No, I don’t think so,’ Eliza said. ‘But whatever it is I don’t want to be caught up in it for too long.’ They carried on in the dim light and huddled together as the wind picked up, whistling all around them and David grasped the infant tightly to his chest in order to shelter him as best he could.

    Suddenly there was a loud bang like a clap of thunder overhead. The couple jumped at the sound and eyed the air expecting any moment to see a crackling bolt of lightning shoot from the sky. Only it never came, just the darkness and an eerie humming of the wind that followed the deafening noise.

    ‘I don’t like this one bit,’ Eliza said her voice trembling. She grabbed on to David’s arm as tightly as she could, shivering. ‘Should we head back? Oh David I’m scared, let’s head back. I’m sorry for saying we shouldn’t.’

    ‘Hey it’s ok, only a bit of thunder, there’s nothing to be scared of,’ David replied his voice as calm as he could make it while trying to mask the nervous tingle that crept up his spine. ‘I think we should press on, we’ll be at Cropwell before we know it.’

    They made haste as the sounds of thunder crashed about them. Then, woken by the noise, their baby began to cry, the sound every now and then being drowned out by a deafening crash.

    ‘R-right, I think we should go back now. This is just t-too damn strange,’ David said, stuttering the words as he struggled to keep control of his nerves.

    As they made their way down the track something caught David’s eye. At first it just looked like a green haze on the brow of a hill, almost invisible and he thought for a moment that it may just be a trick of the light. However as it came nearer David could make it out much more clearly. It moved towards them against the wind, a mass of dense swirling green mist about twice the size of a large cow.

    ‘How odd, look at that Eliza, I’ve never seen something like it before.’

    Eliza froze at the strange creepy sight and a shiver ran up her spine, prickling up the hairs on the back of her neck. They stood and watched as it silently hovered closer.

    ‘What’s is it?’ She whispered, grasping his arm as tightly as she could.

    David didn’t answer, he just stared at the approaching cloud. As it neared he firmed up his grip on the baby. It moved close to the couple and then stopped, hovering motionless. As it did a wave of calm flowed through the air stilling the wind. The thunder stopped too as quickly as it had started, yet the darkness and the mist remained. In the haunting silence, David and Eliza Harper stood completely still facing the strange ghostly cloud that had sought them out.

    The silence was suddenly broken as a creaking came from the mist followed by a cold metallic clanking sound. Shapes began to quickly form. The shapes of wraith-like human figures appeared, and in the space of a few seconds, before a now terrified David and Eliza, the strange creatures stood; skeletal ghosts, clad in ancient armour and glowing a ghastly green. They were carrying round shields and fearsome looking swords. As they stood the skeletons looked at the couple through the eye holes in the helmets and there, quite visible, set within the large dark eye sockets of their skulls, glowed bright red beady eyes. The undead soldiers said nothing, only creaked as they made the sound of bone rubbing on bone, their armour clinking as they swayed gently in a wind that was not there.

    ‘Run,’ David said and without a pause for breath they both turned and fled. Holding the baby in one arm and pulling Eliza on with his spare hand he ran as fast as he could. David knew that if they waited even for an instant, then the skeletons would be upon them.

    ‘Come on Eliza. You have to run faster,’ he grunted, pulling her into a run.

    To Eliza this just seemed like a dream. Her mind was strangely calm as she couldn’t accept what was happening. Half of her was sure that she had just dozed off after their lunch and would wake up refreshed and happy in the sunshine, ready to continue on to Cropwell.

    They left the track and headed straight across the dales, running as fast as they could go, further and further into the wilderness. David clutched the baby to him as tightly as he could and not far behind them the gruesome figures followed, jogging slower than the couple but never tiring. They just pursued.

    On David and Eliza ran for what seemed like hours. Exhausted and terrified they came to a small group of trees on top of a grassy hummock and hid behind the trunk of a large oak panting and shivering. Out of breath, they squatted low down in the shadows keeping a wild look out for their pursuers, their eyes darting from place to place as they madly tried to see if they had lost them and David’s ears strained to hear any sound above the heavy pounding in his chest. To the desperate couples’ horror the skeletons once again came into view, heading straight towards them, creaking and clanking as they approached and again David and Eliza, like rabbits hunted by a pack of dogs, turned and ran.

    As they pressed on, the terrain that they crossed turned from grassy countryside to craggy limestone. A rugged maze of cracks covered the

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