The Elderine Stone

• Title Page
  
• Chapter One: A Hut in the Woods
  
• Chapter Two: The Prophecy
  
• Chapter Three: Into the Woods
  
• Chapter Four: The Slave Traders
  
• Chapter Five: To Haspar
  
• Chapter Six: Devon Drake
  
• Chapter Seven: The Great Library
  
• Chapter Eight: A hooded Figure
  
• Chapter Nine: The Talathin Tree
  
• Chapter Ten: A note on the table
  
• Chapter Eleven: The Hardyhan Bridge
  
• Chapter Twelve: The Elderine Forest
  
• Chapter Thirteen: The Mingus Mountains
  
• Chapter Fourteen: The Dark Lady
  
• Chapter Fifteen: The Return Home
  

The Elderine Stone

Alan Lawson

The Elderine Stone

Alan Lawson

This edition published in arrangement with Smashwords

Copyright 2011
Alan Lawson

Find out more about the Author at

http://www.alanlawson.co.uk

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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 recipient. 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.

Thanks to my parents for always being supportive,

My brother for getting me hooked on fantasy,

David for making me happy and keeping my feet grounded.

To the people who read and loved my work,

And to all my friends who encouraged me every step of the way.

Swoosh
.

A large spiked club, twice the length of Jason’s arm, flew over his head, creating a gush of wind that ruffled his dark brown hair.Jason ducked to dodge another swing and scrambled to a nearby rock, hoping for any chance of escape. The club came crashing down beside him. A spray of dust burst into the air, causing a short, blinding cloud, which restricted the vision of both Jason and his attacker. The dust settled and Jason was now inches away from what looked like an ugly, grey skinned, pig-like creature that snorted and growled with every breath. The creature looked at Jason, raised its club, opened his mouth and let out a growl...

“
Jason! Wake up, this very minute! I am sick to the back teeth with you, young man. I was good enough to buy you that bloody alarm clock for your birthday last year, and this is how you repay me? Treating me like your own personal farm yard roaster, expecting me to wake you up every morning. Well I will tell you one thing, and that’s for sure, the next time that teacher of yours wants words with me for you being late, you will be in the firing line.” The voice quietened to a soft mutter, voicing distaste and other vulgarities that Jason couldn’t quite make out. Then to finish off what was started the voice boomed up the stairs again “and I mean it when I say that. I don’t want to have to listen to that Miss Thornbottle
again
if you’re late for school!”

Jason stirred in his bed, covered in a cold damp sweat from his dream. This had been the third time this week he’d had a nightmare like that one. The thought rolled idly through his head that he was possibly reading far too many fantasy novels. Rubbing his eyes, he rolled over in bed to face the alarm clock that his aunt had bought him for his fourteenth birthday. It was a knight holding a sword and shield, the time was displayed in the middle of the shield. He could just about make out its red glow, seven forty-five, he watched as the numbers blinked, seven forty-six. He groaned, and closed his eyes pretending to himself that he could just lie in bed for another five minutes and maybe that would be enough to shake off his tiredness. Jason was
not
a morning person. However he knew, much like his aunt had said; all hell would break loose if he wasn’t up and out of bed within the next few moments. That was it, he was going to make a start on this battle. He looked at his little calendar that sat on the pine bedside table. It was one of those very useful calendars that offered a very useless phrase or piece of advice each day. He ripped off yesterday’s and read the one for today:
be careful of what you dream, it may come true.
He wouldn’t have much luck, then, if his dreams
did
come true, as there was no such thing as the creatures he saw in his dreams. However with the way things were going in his life at the moment, Jason felt that anywhere would be better than
here
, living in
this
house.

School didn’t start until nine, which Jason thought was still far too early for anybody to be up, out of bed and doing anything constructive, by any standards. Regardless of his own opinions his aunt’s were very different. In fact she felt it was her duty of care to wake Jason up ridiculously early each and every morning, without exception. She had made the point very clear to Jason, that it was an added hassle to her seemingly indolent lifestyle waking him up every morning; it meant that she too had to get up five minutes earlier, just so she could still make her fresh coffee and read the share index on page 36 of the newspaper. Jason knew that his mean and overbearing aunt gained a rather exorbitant amount of pleasure having the task of disturbing his slumber every morning. Having said that, there was an occasion, a “one-off” at that, when Jason had thought his aunt would let him have somewhat of a lie in. His aunt had left him alone in the house for a week, as she was off on vacation with her friends Doris and Myrtle. Naturally, Jason had thought that he could finally have a lie-in before getting up for school. His aunt however had mad prior arrangements for this, and a phone call in the morning at
exactly
seven forty-five hindered all aspects of Jason’s plans. With a huge struggle Jason managed to pull himself out of bed. Pointing his big toes to the ground he began to search for his slippers. Each toe edged across the floor until their short explorations led them to the soft furry surface of his burgundy slippers. With each foot firmly secure in his slippers he walked towards the bathroom.

Jason Greaves was fifteen, slim, not too tall, but not small either. He had brown eyes, which he had always been told were a strange shade of brown; looking chocolaty on several occasions, and hazel at others. Once or twice he had even been told there was an odd glimmer of green in there too.

His body glowed with a slight tan from the numerous days that he had been sitting outside in the garden, and he had freckles across his nose and some scattered on his cheeks.

Jason lived with his Aunt Florence, Jason’s late father’s older sister. She was a brawny woman who could have easy acquired and maintained any military position without hassle. Along with her muscular appearance, her voice had developed a strident, controlling tone. This was something that she had mastered from the many years she had spent as an executive of an averagely medium sized PR company in the city centre. It was a strange situation as it would not be expected that her voice would help in selling anything to anyone using charm.

All of Jason’s friends, a group that was not numerous, had an immediate fear of Ms Greaves, with her booming voice and the permanent absence of a smile. It was a wonder too many people how she actually managed to maintain her position in the PR company. After all it did have a very strong focus on positive attitude and charisma. All of these attributes and her towering muscular figure led his friends to avoid her without exception. Aunt Florence didn’t have any children of her own, mainly due to the fact that she never married. Jason wasn’t at all surprised at this. He even found it hard to imagine anyone suitable, or even willing enough to be her husband. Even if there ever was a chance of a marriage proposal to come her way, Jason privately believed that the “other half” would soon find some “irreconcilable differences” after a short period of actually living with her.

Jason had never known his father, but was told that he had died when Jason was only two years old. His father had been a sergeant in the army, which seemed rather fitting for that side of the Greaves family. He had only brief memories of his mother, who had seemingly vanished a few weeks after the funeral. When Jason tried, he could
almost
recall images of his mother. They were vague, perhaps they weren’t even real, but Jason held onto them.

Aunt Florence became Jason’s legal guardian following the eventful day when social services took him into care. The same day his mother had disappeared Jason was left unattended. Following a day spent listening to non-stop crying, concern and curiosity arouse with neighbours, who in turn took it upon themselves to investigate the Greaves home. As one neighbour had seen no sign of the “young widow from next door” she phoned a report in. Social Services immediately sent out a search for the boy’s closest relative, finding only his aunt, she of course was only delighted at this prospect. She purposefully hid those feelings however. The fact that his aunt was granted the deeds to the Greaves house had
nothing whatsoever
to do with her decision, which she had often been heard to remark, quite vehemently, to her friends. This group consisted mainly of old business women, who seemed more stuck-up than business-like and eccentric young men eager to get a foothold onto the executive ladder.

And so, here he was, in the care of his Aunt Florence. This, in Jason’s opinion, didn’t really seem like care at all now that he had experienced thirteen years of her business-like methods. Where everything had a time and a place and life was built around a set schedule of activities. Therefore Jason had no other choice, but to live everyday trying to make the most of it and always trying to find the best side of everything, even if it did seem his aunt wanted otherwise.

Jason wasn’t the least popular of kids, nor did he find himself in the more popular “in” crowd at school, in fact most of his free time at school and at home was spent daydreaming in fantasy worlds. He often hoped for an escape from the hectic life of a fourth year student. Jason probably spent more time thinking about escaping to these dream worlds than doing anything else that he supposed a
normal
fifteen year old should be doing.

While trying to wash his face with his old, tatty facecloth, Jason heard his aunt shout up,

“
I’m going to work now. And remember Jason, do
not
be late for school, and when you get home you’d better have your room tided and the cleaning done.”