Here is the new start of Book Three. There is more to come!

 

 

 

 

Shepperton’s Sacrifice

Heir of Drachma

Book Three

 

Chapter One

 

 

 

Charlie Stephens was sitting down with Alex and was perplexed. His circumstances had changed again–this whole thing with Diego, with Alex, Judy and her baby, Bob and his relationship to Marilyn, and his own decision – just what was he supposed to do? He felt like he was floating in a large body of water, in a constant state of uncertainty and could not see any landmarks to help him find his way.

 

“Tell me, Alex,” he said, “just what does all this mean? Where am I to fit in with you all?” Why was he talking to this six-year-old? How did he expect her to be able to answer the voices of doubt?

 

“Why don’ ye tell me about a bit more o’ yer past life? What was yer job, an’ how did it change the others around ye?” She said all this with a knowing touch in her voice, one which said he was in a safe place.

 

“Well, my job was that of a reporter. That is, I would seek out stories of what other people were doing, and then talk about them on television….”

 

“Television?”

 

“Ah dear Alex, television is one of those things that, if I were to show you, you would say, “that’s magic.” It’s a way of telling people all around your country, and even around the world, of what you have discovered. Mind you, TV as we call it can be useful, it can be beautiful but in certain hands it can also become an instrument of evil.”

 

“Do go on. Tell me more of this magic. And tell me of yer job, an’ how you kept it beautiful an’ not evil.”

 

“And how do you know that I did that?”

 

“Oh, Charlie! Ye don’ need to ask. Fer I can see yer soul is na’ made o’ such. Why don’ ye tell me of things that ye made which were beautiful.”

 

“I can tell you about two TV specials which I put together. The first you know about. It was the investigation of abused children, and it involved Francine. That one took me a while to recover from. I had actually withdrawn into my own shell after the governor gave me a special commendation, and when I found out what a slime bag he really was. Then about four years ago, I was just going about my business when I stumbled upon this story of Dr. Gilsen and nurse Judy Morrison. I saw in this an opportunity to uncover a story of infidelity and possibly worse. Boy was I wrong! Uncovering that story brought me into contact with Marilyn Gilsen, and since then Janie and Earl Crabtree, Christine Lewinsky, Carlo Vincente and the earl of Shepperton. I decided to tell the world the story I had stumbled upon and how pursuing it changed even me, and I brought it to television. It was this special which truly altered my life – this… and Marilyn Gilsen.”

 

Charlie paused, took a drink of his tea. He reached into his jacket pocket and took out his notebook. As he did so the drawing fell out. 

 

Alex noticed. “May I see what ye’ve got there, Charlie?”

 

Silently, he took the drawing and handed it to Alex who studied it carefully. After looking it over, she smiled and said, “This is the work of Janie, no?”

 

“Of course it is, and somehow you knew about it and what it represented. She made it without having seen the castle or any drawing of it. It makes me believe there is something or someone else involved which has been steering me toward some sort of grand concussion here upon this island. Isn’t there?”

 

Alex simply smiled in answer. “Do go on, Charlie fer I think that ye’re getting’ close t’ the heart o’ the matter.”

 

Charlie took another sip from his tea, then resumed. “As I was saying, Alexandra, this little notebook is where I keep all the things which I hear from those I interview. It is their own words and descriptions of events. If you would like you may see it, if you can read it.” Then he hesitated. “Can you read, Alex?”

 

“Nay, I canna’ read. But I am able to tell the truth of the matter if ye do read me some of what ye’ve written in yer book. Are there any more pi’tures?”

 

“No. No more pictures I’m afraid. But here’s an example of something that I wrote down. While still in my time, I was able to record the words of the earl of Shepperton. He was giving me some advice before my coming here. He based it on his own memories and experience, and he told me whom to trust and whom to be wary of. I must say his advice has been valuable indeed. And no, he didn’t mention you. He did talk of Drachma, Tom, Kerlin, and Craycroft. Then he mentioned Falma. All of these he said would not steer me wrong. But he did also mention Antoine LeGace, and he said in no way was I to trust him and I should avoid him, if at all possible. He also indicated that this LeGace fellow has done some terrible things, which your prince confirmed, and that LeGace was trying to take over this island and would stop at nothing to get his own way.”

 

“Tell me, Charlie, is all that in yer notes?”

 

“Oh, it certainly is, Alex. I wouldn’t go anywhere without this little notebook. Now, you tell me something that I’m curious about. Tell me about this fellow Craycroft. Just anything you can tell me about who he is, where he came from, and how a healer became lord of this island. For it seems that his story will tell me a lot about this island and what makes it so special.”

 

“What I can tell ye is that he began as a page o’ the old earl, back in the day. It was me great gran’father, Cartho who was the castle’s own healer, who noticed what a smart lad this fellow named Craycroft was, an’ he took ‘im aside an’ taught ‘im all the things ‘bout bein’ a healer.”

 

“Extraordinary, my little one! To think that he started out as a page, as did Tom himself, and now to see where they both got in their own lifetimes. It seems no wonder then, why the likes of LeGace, and even the king of England would want to get this little island for themselves.”

 

“Aye, but it be more likely that they’re both after the pots, or so me Mum tol’ me.”

 

“The pots…?”  

 

So, Charlie got the story of the wondrous pots of Shepperton from none other than little Alexandra, who pointed out that he was now part of their story, having been so adopted. Now it was soon up to him to decide the fate of the other adoptees.

 

“Let me ask you, Alex,” he said, digging in his pocket. He pulled out his small amulet and handed it to her. “What could you possibly tell me about this? This was something I got from Janie before she died.  The earl of Derrymoor and Craycroft both saw it and they both thought it was special, but neither one said anything more. Janie indicated that its meaning was something I would find out about after I got here….”

 

“So now you wan’ me t’ tell ye its true meanin’. Is that right?” She looked again at the small scrimshaw piece in her hand, held it up toward the light and handed it back to Charlie.

 

“I guess so.”

 

“What I’m about t’ tell ye is that this broach let ye come to us. In your own world there are pow’rful people and pow’rful things who you don’ even know about. An’ here only a few people who do know, but who are only sometimes able to use ‘em. They’re the special ones, like Falma, an’ Drachma, but also Master LeGace. In their hands these special things an’ special people can do things no ord’nery person can do.”

 

“What about you?”

 

“It’s ‘cause o’ Drachma an’ Falma. That be all I can tell ye fer now.”

 

Charlie was silent and took another drink of his tea, thinking about what this little girl had told him. Then he thought again of Janie and Falma; how Falma had said from the back seat of his car that he needed to go see Janie, that she had something for him. Before she died, she handed him the broach and kissed him. And ever since then he had been swept along in this rushing current of time. Then the thought hit him – the coin, the drachma!

 

“Charlie,” said Alex quietly. “It looks t’ me like ye thought of something.”

 

“Indeed, I did. I just thought of the little coin, a drachma, now in Lonnie’s possession. How it had been such a significant item for Marilyn. It seemed that the coin had a mind of its own, and significance beyond just a beautiful token. Was it something like this broach?”

 

“It sounds like somethin’ ye’ll have t’ ask Tom about. I know he’d like t’ talk t’ ye about that.”

 

“It seems to me, my little one, that you do know things, yet are only telling me part of the story. Is that true?”

 

“There are some things I am able t’ tell ye, but there be other things too deep fer me t’ see. Things that ye must find fer yerself. There be danger….”

 

“Danger?” Charlie thought for a moment. “Of course, there’s danger.”

 

 

 

 

Gathered inside the gate of Castle Kearney at sunrise, the group consisted of Chauncey, Stoneheft, Gilbert, Eustace, and the newly recovered Diego. To that motley assortment was added Justinian for the purpose of security. Their plan was to travel to Shepperton Castle and to meet with Craycroft and Kerlin. They were all aware of the threat posed by LeGace and wanted to be helpful in any way possible. Each had been given a sword and a smaller knife. Justinian knew that this group had been tested and seasoned by their recent history.

 

Prince Diego was significantly healed and knew his expertise would be useful to Shepperton and felt it his responsibility to be where he could be of the most use. He felt that Alexandra should remain in Kearney with Judy, Diane and Charlie. He had sat down with her and explained his thinking the prior evening. To his surprise, Alex understood perfectly. She knew that her prince would be necessary elsewhere, and she had been there for him when he needed her the most. And beside that she had Charlie to “deal with.” Diego smiled at this little girl, reached down, kissed her forehead and said, “you go with God, my Alexandra. You are one of His special angels.”

 

She responded by giving him a warm hug and whispering to him, saying, “I’ll always love you, my prince!”

 

Diego was remembering all that fondly, as he said to the men assembled there, “Come now, my comrades, we must be going. I do believe Craycroft and all Shepperton await.”

 

Justinian agreed, checked his supplies, saluted the guards at the gate, and led his men out into the darkness of the forest. 

 

 

 

 

Kerlin stared straight ahead at the small but imposing figure of Antoine LeGace. Behind Kerlin, in a semicircle, were the guards and Leonardo. 

 

“So, Master Kerlin, do you have with you the money and the note?”

 

“Aye, I have.” The large Forest Guard reached into his tunic, and produced a thick envelope, which he threw down onto the table. As he did so, he could see, at the edge of his vision a brief glimpse of the waif, with her features giving off a faint blue light. He turned his head toward her, only to find that she had disappeared into the evening, but in her place was a faint hint of the forest and the aroma of newly turned earth.

 

LeGace took the envelope, and with his knife he cut through the seal, and within there was a folded sheet of paper. LeGace opened the paper and read the note which said:

            

            Master LeGace,

 

            This shall be our response to thy list of demands:

 

            Firstly, thou hadst not properly advised the ruling authority of the Island of Shepperton.

            Being a senior member of the ruling Council, I shall tell thee that it be myself that thou

            shouldst speak with in matters which concern our Island and its governance. Thy method

            of delivery, having taken the life of one of our own esteemed persons, we have found to

            be most intolerable, and we consider it a matter most execrable!

 

            Secondly, we of the ruling Council do declare thy requests are therefore null and void.

 

            Thirdly, thy actions are considered an act of war, so be ye forewarned, and thy life to

            be forfeit!

 

            Sworn hereby,

 

            Master Rust

            Master Genet

            Master Silvo

            Master Fitzgibbon

            Master Donovan

 

LeGace’s face was a mask of evil, with a most malicious smile as he said to Kerlin, “Well, then, Master Kerlin, I do see that your Councilors have declared war upon this, thy island. Well, I say so be it! Guards, take this prisoner to the brig, while I decide the fate of the two of them.”