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Book 1: A Wizard of Dreams
Book 1: A Wizard of Dreams
Book 1: A Wizard of Dreams
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Book 1: A Wizard of Dreams

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Gordon Bennett’s special powers first manifest themselves when he is five months old. He has an alter ego / guardian angel named Zack who knows a lot (see my website for chapters exemplifying the way his powers grow in childhood). In his eleventh year he’s called to a particular holiday cottage in Cornwall, where the ghost of his sixteen greats grandmother offers him an interesting theory concerning the origin of his amazing abilities. From her he acquires Mabon’s ring, and is told how to find the Tara Torque. On his eleventh birthday, he is transported by the torque to Avalon (Tír na nÓg, the Land of the Forever Young and of the Dead. There he meets King Arthur and The Army of the Slain, and Myrddin reveals what is planned for him.
On Gordon’s first morning in secondary school, he meets a girl with powers similar to his own. Together they travel to The forest of Arden, where they witness the renewal of their fairy majesties Oberon and Titania. There they first encounter Groc the Knocker - a fairy with extreme right-wing views. Soon after that, Gordon's parents discover just how amazing their son really is.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateApr 3, 2015
ISBN9781310093135
Book 1: A Wizard of Dreams
Author

Robin Chambers

Once upon a time –a long time ago – I was born in Bootle (Liverpool 20) in the UK. There was a war on. Later, I wanted to follow in the footsteps of J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis but instead was plunged into the maelstrom of inner city education. In the 1970s I wrote some stories for children to see if I could, and Penguin published them. I thought I would write something really good when I retired from teaching...After fourteen years of headship in Hackney I came back up north in 1993 and met my wonderful wife Amy. We looked after my increasingly ill parents full-time until they didn’t need us to do it anymore, by which time the first of our two daughters was ready to go off to University and on to the first rung of the housing ladder. We did the sums and I went back to teaching...In 2008 Amy and I set off for a life by the western shores of the Caribbean. It was only after I survived a murder attempt by three local thugs in November 2010 (skull crushed in two places, seventeen stitches in head wounds) that I realised how easy it is to die without accomplishing a cherished ambition.So we came back to the UK and I set to work on “Myrddin’s Heir”: the epic story I will leave behind. It took three years to write the first four books - now in the Kindle Store at 99p each. Self-publishing means self-marketing, so here I am. Book 5 was published in April 2014 for the same price...This is a story for bright children from 10–110 years of age. It’s longer than The L of the R, longer even than HP &... To finish it I need to live another 15 years. I’d like to finish it, because I know how it ends.

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    Book preview

    Book 1 - Robin Chambers

    First printed in the United States of America by BRIGHT CHILDREN PRESS

    The wizard appearing on the front cover is from an image by JAMES FARLEY, a wizard photographer and a generous friend. www.jamesfarley.co.uk

    Cover Typography by WRITE DREAM REPEAT

    Book Interior Design by ROBIN CHAMBERS

    The moral rights of the author have been asserted.

    The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the internet or via any other means without the permission of the author is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorised electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

    Please visit https://myrddinsheir.com for further news, views and feedback contact details.

    This edition published in 2017 by Amazon Kindle Direct Publishing

    Also Available

    Myrddin’s Heir Book 2: Amazing Grace

    Myrddin’s Heir Book 3: The Quality of Mercy

    Myrddin’s Heir Book 4: Gifts from the Gods

    Myrddin’s Heir Book 5: When the Cat’s Away…

    Myrddin’s Heir Book 6: In the Nick of Time

    Contents

    Copyright

    Also Available

    Dedication

    Warning

    Foreword

    Chapter 1: THE DANCING BEAR

    Chapter 2: TEN YEARS LATER

    Chapter 3: AN UNCANNY RESEMBLANCE

    Chapter 4: THERE OUGHT TO BE A LAW

    Chapter 5: THROUGH THE LOOKING-GLASS

    Chapter 6: LET ME IN!

    Chapter 7: THE LADY’S NOT FOR BURNING

    Chapter 8: IT RUNS IN OUR BLOOD

    Chapter 9: TIME FOR REFLECTION

    Chapter 10: WALKING ABROAD

    Chapter 11: THE EVIL EYE

    Chapter 12: A NIGHT TO REMEMBER

    Chapter 13: THE HALL OF MIRRORS

    Chapter 14: THE TUNNEL OF LOVE

    Chapter 15: MY SIXTEEN GREATS GRANDMOTHER

    Chapter 16: WHAT SORCERY IS THIS?

    Chapter 17: FORENSIC EVIDENCE

    Chapter 18: HOME AT LAST

    Chapter 19: KEEPING IT QUIET

    Chapter 20: THE KEY TO MABON’S CAIRN

    Chapter 21: A WIZARD OF DREAMS

    Chapter 22: HIDE AND SEEK

    Chapter 23: A MIND OF ITS OWN

    Chapter 24: IT’S JUST A MATTER OF TIME

    Chapter 25: TALKING THE TORQUE

    Chapter 26: HAPPY BIRTHDAY

    Chapter 27: LEFT HOLDING THE BABY

    Chapter 28: THE SORCERER’S APPRENTICE

    Chapter 29: A LEAP OF FAITH

    Chapter 30: THE FIRST MEETING

    Chapter 31: WE MEET AT LAST

    Chapter 32: THE LAKE OF TEARS

    Chapter 33: THE WANDERER RETURNS

    Chapter 34: HEALING THAT WOUND

    Chapter 35: AMAZING GRACE

    Chapter 36: THE MIND READER AND THE CLAIRVOYANT

    Chapter 37: SETTLING IN

    Chapter 38: GO GET 'EM SHERIFF!

    Chapter 39: AN IMMACULATE CONCEPTION

    Chapter 40: INTO THE WOODS

    Chapter 41: A DIVINE DECREE

    Chapter 42: OVER-EXPOSED

    Chapter 43: KNICKERS ISLAND

    Chapter 44: PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT

    Chapter 45: TO TELL OR NOT TO TELL?

    Chapter 46: TAKING IT ON BOARD

    Chapter 47: THE HEART OF THE MATTER

    Chapter 48: FOREWARNED IS FOREARMED

    Chapter 49: MIND WHAT YOU THINK

    Chapter 50: A CLOSE ENCOUNTER OF AN UNUSUAL KIND

    NOTES

    -To Note ...

    About this author

    Book 2 Chapter 1

    For Amy, who makes me happy,

    For Linda, who kept in touch,

    And for all children who were or are abused

    by anyone, anywhere

    WARNING

    This book will challenge you

    HELPFUL HINT

    There are notes at the back

    SOUND ADVICE

    Love Learning

    Respect Difference

    Protect Your Planet

    Foreword

    Before beginning this story, Amy and I spent three years in Belize, where we met and became firm friends with a Taiwanese philosopher and his wife. Their English names were Jason and Christine.

    Jason was developing a scheme designed to promote the philosophy he had been working on for 20 years to help make the world a better place. I helped Jason with the wording of his philosophy for the English-speaking world.

    My three pieces of sound advice -

    Love Learning

    Respect Difference

    Protect Your Planet

    – were distilled during the process he and I underwent in finding the right words for his Three Obligations of Wisdom in English.

    The wording in his final version, when it is published, will be a little different to my choice of words above for this series of books, but the key concepts are the same.

    I was convinced that the Three Obligations of Wisdom point out a simple way to a better world, and I am happy to help promote Jason’s philosophy.

    Robin Chambers

    June 2013

    Chapter 1

    The Dancing Bear

    All mothers think their children are special, but Gordon’s mother had proof.

    Ma-ma, she heard him say when he was just five months old. He was lying on the living room carpet at the time, his rather large head supported by a comfy pillow. He was looking right at me when he said it, she told everyone afterwards, with understandable pride. She had dropped to her knees in front of him.

    That’s right, Darling! she cooed in delight. "Ma-ma. She pointed to herself: to be sure he grasped the link between those sounds and the loving parent in his line of vision. Who’s a clever boy, then?"

    Gordon beamed back at her. Da-da, he announced.

    This was too much! Tears of joy welling, she rushed to the sideboard and grabbed a picture of his father. Yes, Precious! She held the picture where he could see it clearly. "Da-da."

    Gordon went on smiling. Zack! he said. His chubby little left arm came up and smacked into the pillow beside his head. Most of his hand was bunched in a fist, but his index finger pointed at the pillow. Zack.

    His mother was taken aback for a moment. No, Sweetheart, PIL-LOW.

    The smile faded from Gordon’s face. Zack! he said again, very distinctly. It was as if he was trying to explain something to her, something that should have been obvious. It clearly wasn’t, and he had no idea why.

    Well, that was enough progress for one day. All right, Darling, Zack it is! After all, there was plenty of time for him to learn to say ‘pillow’.

    The smile returned to Gordon’s chubby face. Zack, he said again, and chuckled with delight. He turned and gazed fondly at the pillow next to his head.

    Edith drifted happily into the kitchen to put the kettle on. What would all the other mothers say when she told them? How old is he now? Five months! Goodness, he’s very advanced, isn’t he? She would smile modestly, and say something like: Well, they all go at their own pace, don’t they?

    The water in the kettle began to rumble. She dropped the tea bag into her cup and waited for boiling point. She could hear her son squealing and clapping. He was such a happy child! And gifted and talented, that was obvious.

    In the living room, Gordon’s teddy had sprung into the air. It hovered in front of his delighted face, and gave him a cheery wave before breaking into a vigorous version of the can-can.

    Zack always knew where Edith was. When she came back with her cup of tea, Teddy would be safely back on Gordon’s pillow. There was no point in worrying her before she had to be.

    NOTES

    GORDON BENNETT – THE EARLY YEARS

    Chapter 2

    Ten Years Later

    Gordon’s birthday was in August – the 7th, to be exact. Edith and Victor had got into the habit of taking their family holiday around that time and celebrating his birthday while they were away.

    In his first five years, involving other children in his birthday had been pretty impossible. There had been no way of not inviting Zack.

    It was curious how real Zack had seemed, back in the day. Her son was always asking him questions out loud and apparently getting a reply. It was uncanny how often he replied to something Zack had apparently said. It was like having two sons: one she could see and the other she couldn’t. Downright spooky at times, if she was honest.

    But gradually, Zack had faded away, as imaginary friends always do. He’d gone altogether by the time Gordon first went to nursery school, at the age of four and three quarters. Goodness knows what the other children would have made of Zack! She hadn’t wanted anyone thinking her precious son was … weird.

    Once he was in Junior School, she’d asked Gordon from time to time if he would prefer to celebrate his birthday at home, where he could have a party with his friends. He’d always said no thanks, he liked things the way he was used to having them. The pattern had been established and they had stuck to it.

    They normally set about planning their summer holiday once Christmas was out of the way. This year, Gordon had a specific request to make. Could they go to Cornwall please, and could they spend his eleventh birthday visiting The Eden Project? He wanted to know what it felt like to be in a rainforest. He didn’t know when he would get the chance to experience it in real life.

    Victor and Edith were happy to oblige. They decided to rent a cottage within reasonable distance of St Austell. Edith researched available properties and shortlisted some for consideration. They sat down together early in January to look at the little photos and the write-ups, and it was curious ...

    As Gordon looked down at his mum’s compilation, one particular cottage moved off the page. It expanded in his mind’s eye. He could see the overgrown hedge, and a narrow wooden gate. It wasn’t as it appeared in the picture. It was covered in snow.

    "Are you doing this?" he asked Zack. Zack had taught him telepathy when he was four. It made things a lot easier.

    No, Zack replied, you are, and I don’t know why.

    The gate in the hedge was opening. He was moving through it. The cottage had a curving timber frame and wattle-and-daub walls. There was a thatched roof. Smoke curled from the brick chimney. There must have been a fire burning in the old black grate. He could hear it crackling. He could smell the woodsmoke.

    … not a lot to choose between them, his mum was saying. It depends what we think we want to go for: ‘olde worlde’ charm or modern and probably more comfortable.

    Come back, Gordon, Zack warned him. The picture faded. He looked up from the paper to see his mum and dad looking at him expectantly.

    I’m sorry? he said.

    His dad grinned. You were miles away.

    About 250 miles away, Zack said. I’d like to know what happened there.

    "Me too," Gordon told him.

    Your mum and I were thinking either this modern bungalow with two bedrooms and en suite bathrooms, or this tiny cottage with loads of character, but only one bathroom and no en-suite. He grimaced. It probably also comes with creaky floors, draughty windows and ceilings low enough for me to bang my head on the beams.

    Edith laughed. No prizes for guessing which way you’re leaning, she said.

    It has to be this one! Gordon said. He pointed at the indistinct little picture on the page. It was calling to him. Urgency and longing welled up from deep inside him.

    Whoah, said his dad, Where did that certainty come from all of a sudden?

    Gordon looked at him. I don’t know Dad, but it has to be this one. PLEASE!!

    The strength of his son’s appeal took Victor by surprise. It wasn’t like Gordon to be that definite. He was normally only that certain about the need to preserve endangered species. Victor was in favour of en-suite bathrooms and all mod cons himself. He was, however, open to persuasion.

    OK, he said. He peered at the photo. What makes you so set on this one?

    Gordon decided on the truth. It was normally best, and his parents deserved it. It invited me, he told them.

    Not quite son, his dad said, correcting him gently. It didn’t invite you. You found it inviting.

    Gordon looked at him and took Zack’s advice. It was equally true, after all. I found it inviting, he said.

    His mum was staring at the picture. I’m finding it inviting as well, she said slowly.

    Victor raised his eyebrows and then grinned again. Well, as this is a democracy, by a majority of 2-1, he looked down at the details again, Oaktree Cottage it is.

    Edith booked it the next day.

    NOTES

    WITHIN REASONABLE DISTANCE FROM ST AUSTELL; TELEPATHY; WATTLE-AND-DAUB WALLS; MOD CONS.

    Chapter 3

    An Uncanny Resemblance

    Gordon looked out at the world that was passing them by at that particular moment. The sun was shining strongly, as it had a perfect right to do in August. The trees were heavy with summer foliage. Sheep grazed safely in the fields stretching away on either side of the road. Their lambs looked sturdy and well-fed.

    Not far now, Victor said. ’Little Melling 2 miles’ that last signpost said.

    It was just like any other piece of countryside really, so why had Gordon’s spine suddenly begun to tingle? It was the strangest feeling. Can you feel it, Zack? he asked.

    I feel … what you feel, Zack told him. That wasn’t quite the same thing. Gordon frowned and tried to concentrate. He’d never had a feeling quite like this one. He knew it had something to do with what he could see out of the window.

    The road curved, and the land to his left dropped into a smooth sloping valley. Had he known it would do that?

    I’ve never been here before, Zack told him, to save Gordon the trouble of asking.

    There was a steep, wooded hill on the other side, about half a mile away. Near its top, in a large clearing, stood an old manor house. Gordon stared at it and shivered suddenly. His mother turned to look at him.

    What’s the matter Darling, are you cold? she asked. Gordon shook his head. He made a brave attempt to smile.

    Somebody just walked over your grave, Zack said, sombrely.

    Gordon was shocked. That’s a weird thing to say.

    Sorry, Zack said. People say it sometimes when they shiver like that.

    "I don’t like it," Gordon told him.

    What, the saying or the feeling?

    "Both."

    Edith smiled back at him, with a hint of anxiety in her eyes, and Gordon turned his attention to the manor. The square turrets on each corner gave it the look of an old fortified house. Its gleaming windows were large and rectangular. It faced west, and on a day like this the rooms behind those windows would be bathed in a warm glow until the sun sank.

    A grand doorway imposed itself on the central section. The lawns in front of it stretched for a considerable distance down the wood-fringed slope. It had probably looked just like that for centuries. A feeling of resentment welled up from somewhere deep inside Gordon.

    Whoah, Zack said, What is going on?

    His mum glanced at the map. That must be Mellingford Hall, she said, the ancestral home of the Davenports. It’s been in their family for centuries. They’re still living there, according to the Guide Book.

    Mellingford Hall, the Davenports. Gordon did not remember ever having heard of either before. Given Gordon’s incredible memory, that meant that he hadn’t. So why had his feeling of resentment turned into something like rage? He hated that house. He despised those people. This isn’t you, Gordon, Zack said suddenly. You don’t do rage. This is something else.

    "If this is what possession feels like," Gordon told him, I don’t like it. Don’t leave me.

    Don’t you worry, mate, Zack assured him. I’m going nowhere. Our privacy is being invaded. That’s a skipload of animosity.

    Gordon suddenly had a whole new understanding of hate. It was corrosive.

    The road ran down the hill towards a cluster of houses and a small parish church. Gordon didn’t recognize the houses, but the church was familiar. A picture flashed through his mind. It was of the same church surrounded by a different cluster of houses: timber-framed, wattled-and-daubed and thatched. There was smoke curling from their chimneys.

    That, said Zack, thoughtfully, is probably how this place looked in Elizabethan times. Or maybe Jacobean. Gordon clenched his teeth and willed the hateful feelings away. They subsided, becoming a dull ache in the pit of his stomach. Victor drove on, oblivious.

    The road swung left, making its way across the valley towards that wooded hill and the manor house. Edith turned around to smile again. Gordon felt sadness, an old sorrow, tears shed long ago. She turned back and the feeling went away.

    This is a roller-coaster, said Zack on full alert. Gordon was so glad he had Zack looking out for him. He didn’t really feel up to looking out for himself. It was a bit like being attacked by a virus. He’d been robbed of most of his energy.

    They passed a sign warning them that the road was about to get even narrower. His father steered them carefully round a tight bend. The trees on either side were now so close together that they shut out most of the late afternoon light. They were in the fringes of the wood that Gordon had seen from the other side of the valley.

    Let’s hope we don’t meet anything coming the other way, Victor said cheerfully. These roads are living up to expectations. What do you think of Cornwall so far, Gordon? Not getting a reply, he half-turned to glance at his son in the back; and in that moment, Gordon saw a young woman in a long black dress standing in the middle of the road, right in front of their car. She must have stepped out from the trees.

    For a splintered second, Gordon saw joy on her face. Her arms were spread wide in welcome, her mouth open as if in greeting. She was looking straight at him.

    LOOK OUT DAD!

    Gordon jerked his head away in horror, his eyes tight shut. Victor slammed his foot on the brake and the car came to a slithering, screeching halt. He’d been somewhere near the speed limit. He must have hit her!

    It wasn’t your fault, Dad! Gordon stammered, his eyes still tight shut. She stepped out right in front of you. Nobody can blame you!

    His father rested his head on the steering wheel. What, he asked slowly, "was that about?" His wife tightened her grip on his arm.

    Gordon opened his eyes. That woman, Dad!

    Take it easy Gordon, Zack whispered.

    She was right in the middle of the road! From somewhere behind the panic came the realization that he hadn’t felt any kind of bump. His father breathed out heavily. He put the car in neutral, applied the handbrake, opened the door and got out. He walked all round it, squatted down in front of it, stared underneath it. Then he stared through the windscreen at Gordon. Gordon had never seen that expression on his face before.

    "Zack, do you mind?" Gordon was strapped in, so he couldn’t turn around to look out of the rear window.

    No problem, Zack assured him. Just relax. Breathe deeply. Zack knelt up on the back seat so Gordon could get a clear view of the road behind the car. It was deserted. Not a soul.

    Victor shook his head slowly, getting a grip on himself. His heart had slammed up to maximum when he’d hit the brake. His hands still had the imprint of the steering wheel on them. It must have been a shadow, trick of the light, he muttered. His son was ultra-sensible. He wasn’t given to scaring his parents with imaginary … Well at least, not since …

    Victor walked back up the hill, past the tyre marks. He looked from side to side, just to make absolutely sure. Zack was shedding no light, which meant he had no light to shed.

    Edith held her hand out to Gordon. Tell me what you saw she said gently. It had been a long time, as far as she knew, since her amazing son had seen something that nobody else had been able to see.

    Gordon began to cry, another incredibly rare event. It was relief, really, that nobody was lying dead in the road. She seemed to know me, he told his mother, and so glad to see me.

    His mother nodded slowly. Suddenly there were tears in her eyes too, even though she was smiling. What did she look like? she asked softly.

    She knows something, Zack whispered. I wish I did.

    Gordon looked at his mother in wonder. What was happening? Who had

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