George Royle and the Legend of the Crystal Rose - Brossura

Gallimore, R O

Brossura

ISBN 10: 1449090389 ISBN 13: 9781449090388

Casa editrice: AuthorHouse, 2010

Riassunto

George stepped cautiously forward through the door eyes clamped tightly shut; he felt a warm breeze and the smell of wild flowers filled his nose. He opened his eyes a bit at a time, the glare of the sun made him turn his head, and then as his eyes adjusted he was awestruck by what he saw. In front of him were rolling fields of lush blue grass smothered in flowers which looked like multi coloured polka dots, in the distance a huge golden castle surrounded by a massive stone wall, towering behind it the biggest range of mountains he had ever seen, all capped in snow . . . . . . . . . Follow George Royle, an ordinary 10 year old boy on the adventure of a lifetime in a land of magical wonder. A breath taking quest of good versus evil. Making new friends and confronting fearsome enemies, in a battle to save the land. Will he succeed? Will the darkness defeat the light and will George make the ultimate sacrifice?

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George Royle and the Legend of the Crystal Rose

By R O Gallimore

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2010 R O Gallimore
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4490-9038-8

Chapter One

The Oracle of Armangar

At the end of Muccleshell lane in the tiny village of Waterlake, sits the small chapel of St Paul's. It had been empty for many years until two years ago, when Tom Royle and his young son George moved in, well not quite moved in, but moved into a caravan next to it.

Since then Tom had been busy converting it into a home for him and his son. Today was an exciting day not only because it was Christmas Eve, but because today was finally moving in day, George could hardly contain himself. Dad had even put up a red ribbon over the front door, George stepped up, and his dad passed him a shiny pair of scissors,

"Go on then George, cut the ribbon" he said, George was nervous but cut the ribbon with one swift slice. "ta da, I now declare St Pauls cottage officially open" his dad said proudly . George pushed open the large wooden door and ran into the huge room in front of him, "Wow Dad! It's really cool, can I see my bedroom?"

Tom followed George through the main room with a large open fireplace, stood next to it was a beautiful tall Christmas tree covered in baubles and twinkling lights, past the old pulpit which now had a huge plasma screen TV on it, up the stairs along the balcony landing to a large arched door, George opened the door and gasped "this is awesome Dad, you've even repaired stained glass window" the rainbow of colours filled his bedroom. "I knew you'd love it" his dad beamed "I'll leave you to explore while I go and get some breakfast ready."

George loved his new room, on one wall was a huge golden blanket with red embroidered patterns on it, lengthways against it he had a lovely big dark wooden bed which his dad had restored in the workshop, with a multi coloured hand made quilt on top of it. This was a really great bedroom.

"George, breakfast is ready" his dad called from downstairs, as George left the room a soft red glow came from behind the golden blanket on the wall and spilled from under his bed across the floor.

George went and had his breakfast and then spent the rest of the day exploring the house, as for the last month he hadn't been allowed in because of all the scaffolding and building stuff everywhere.

It got to just after 7.30 "come on then George its been a long day, I think its time for a bath and then bed" said Tom. For once George was quite glad, it was to be the first night in his new bedroom. George finished his bath, brushed his teeth and put his PJ's on, then his dad came up with a glass of warm milk tucked him in to his lovely warm comfy bed and just like every night said a prayer while looking at picture of Georges mum.

George didn't know his mum as he and his dad had lost her nearly nine years ago when he was only tiny, his dad had told him lots about her, but it wasn't quite the same.

His mum's name was Faith, she was slightly shorter than his dad in the picture and had long dark hair, and crystal green eyes, George always thought she looked like a princess, and that's exactly how he saw her in his dreams.

Tom said goodnight "sweet dreams little man" he said as he closed the door "see you in the morning".

George snuggled into his big comfy bed and thought about his first day in St Paul's cottage, he reached over and switched of his bedside light, but as he did the room didn't get any darker, but the white light changed to soft red. He looked around 'the curtains are closed and the door is shut, how strange?' he thought.

Then he noticed the light was coming from under his bed, 'that's odd dad must have put another lamp under my bed' he thought, then he climbed out put on his dressing gown and slippers then knelt down, he cautiously lifted the quilt and peered under. He saw a red glow coming from the bottom of the golden blanket and under his bed; he jumped back up onto the bed and slowly pulled the wall blanket back.

As he pulled it further gradually an old door appeared in front of him, it looked like something from his dads shed, all scratched and flaky with lots of different coloured paint on it but no door handle.

"That's weird, why would dad put a door here, my room is at the top of the house, there aren't any other rooms up here"

George pulled the blanket back and tucked it behind the carved wooden headboard; now the glow got brighter and shone like a lighthouse in the fog all around the edge of the door. George was getting uneasy but excited at the same time, he grabbed the picture of his mum for a little reassurance, tucked it under his left arm then carefully stepped toward the door not really knowing why, he ran his hand over the flaky surface "it feels like dragon scales" he thought, although he had never stroked a dragon and probably never would. As he ran his hand down the side he felt a doorknob "that wasn't there before...... shall I.... shall I?" He thought.

He closed his eyes and gently wrapped his fingers around the doorknob and as he did the glow enveloped his hand. A soft voice whispered "the quest awaits the brave", he opened his eyes with a start, looking around the room, it's only him, again he hears the voice "the quest awaits the brave"

He slowly started to turn the knob and gently pushed the door open stepping of his bed. He closed one eye and peered out of the other into a round room with white walls. Now he opened both eyes and looked around to see six doors, one red, one orange, one yellow, one lilac, one emerald and one gold, all with a small coat of arms above them. George stepped quietly further into the room as he did he stumbled and fell to the floor, cracking the glass in his Mum's picture "oh no, that's all I need" he sighed, then he took the picture from its frame and placed it carefully in the breast pocket of his PJ's. His attention turned to see what had tripped him , on the floor lay a book about the size of a tray and as thick as a pillow, bound in dirty white leather with a shiny rose on the front and some words 'THE ORACLE OF ARMANGAR' in gold letters.

"Wow this is really cool" George said out loud and then shushed himself so he didn't alert his dad. He ran his hand over the cover and as he did the rose glowed a now familiar red glow "awesome" he said "I wonder what oracle means and where or what is Armangar?"

"Well, only one way to find out" George ran his finger along the edge and slowly opened the cover, he looked at the top of the first page, all it said was "CHOOSE A GATE" below it was a map of what looked like a country called Armangar, it showed the rivers, mountains, seas and counties, six counties in fact "I wonder" he thought, then he looked at the six doors with the coats of arms, first the red door, on the arms it said 'Relangar', that was one of the counties on the map, then the gold door 'Gilangar', it was a match! He then checked the others and they all matched.

"I suppose choose a gate means choose a door" he muttered "but which one first?"

Then he noticed something strange, the first letters of the counties looked familiar "G R L O Y E". As he stared at the letters it slowly dawned on him, "if I rearrange them G R O Y L E, it's my name George ROYLE!" he said with amazement, "now that is weird". He now knew how to choose a door, G for George , "looks like the gold door first then", he got up from the and floor picked up the book, which was actually very heavy, as he moved toward the golden door the book began to shake, then started to shrink until it was about the size of DVD case "well this makes things a bit easier" he thought so he popped it into his dressing gown pocket and stepped up to the gold door "well" he said closing his eyes again "here goes."

Chapter Two

The Golden City

George stepped cautiously forward through the door eyes clamped tightly shut; he felt a warm breeze and the smell of wild flowers filled his nose. He opened his eyes a bit at a time, the glare of the sun made him turn his head, and then as his eyes adjusted he was awestruck by what he saw. In front of him were rolling fields of lush blue grass smothered in flowers which looked like multicoloured polka dots, in the distance a huge golden castle surrounded by a massive stone wall, towering behind it the biggest range of mountains he had ever seen all caped in snow.

He rubbed his eyes and shook his head to make sure he wasn't dreaming, but no, it was real he could feel it, see it, smell it. George turned to look behind him, the door had gone, and now a beautiful crystal river had taken its place. Down by the riverbank he saw what looked like a brightly painted stone gnome sat under a willow tree, he looked just like the one by old Mrs Tattersall's pond next door to the church , he had often looked over the fence and wondered if her gnome was real, now he was looking at a really real gnome.

George decided to walk over and talk to him, as he drew closer he realised that the gnome was about the same height as he was, he wore a red jacket green shorts and a multi coloured pointed hat which was flopped over to one side and he had a little grey beard, he cleared his throat "ahem" well you would have thought George had let of a firework the gnome jumped so high. "What in the name of Sophia did you do that for?" said the gnome. "I'm sorry" said George "my name's George I'm sort of new around here and just wanted to say hello" "just say hello, well you nearly made me fall in the river, no mind no harm done, my name's Sam" said the gnome whilst rearranging his hat, clothes and picking up a little shoulder bag "pleased to meet you Sam". George steadily put his hand forward. "Pleased to meet you George" he said as he grabbed his hand and shook it vigorously. They then both sat back on the riverbank "so what are you doing here then young George?" Sam asked. George began to tell Sam all about what had happened up until they had met, all about his dad and mum, St Pauls, the magic door, the big book which was now little, well everything. Sam sat listening intently until George finished, "well I've heard some stories in my time, but that beats them all" laughed Sam.

"Don't you believe me Sam?" said George looking a little upset but also thinking why should he believe such a bizarre story.

"Believe you, of course I do, I just never thought I'd meet the keeper of the oracle in my lifetime" he said stroking his beard and grinning.

"I'm confused" said George "keeper of what?"

Sam began to explain " there's a sacred book called 'The Oracle of Armangar' that's the book you found, there's only one person chosen every hundred years who is able to join with the oracle, and the oracle chooses the keeper not the other way round. You George, you have the oracle, you have been chosen!" Sam grinned again with pleasure. He then went on to explain that the oracle only seeks out a new keeper in times of great danger for Armangar, then the keeper will set out on a quest to bring peace and harmony back to the land. The quest can take many forms and can be full of danger; this quest can only be set by royal decree.

Well George sat dumfounded, "keeper, quest, royal decree, danger, but I'm only ten what can I do?" he asked Sam. "More than you know young man, the oracle has chosen YOU, more than you know" Sam whispered. "Why are you whispering?" George whispered.

"Some in this land and others would do anything to have control of the keeper and the oracle" said Sam softly "we should be careful who we trust and who befriends us along the way, together you and the oracle possess great power" Sam said whilst looking around.

The two of them sat a while in silence, George looking as though he was going to be sick and Sam was almost bursting with excitement. Sam jumped up " well looks like we're off to the palace then young man , to find out what your quest is to be" George was sure he was going to be sick , but got up anyway and started to follow Sam. As they walked along toward the castle George turned to Sam "all I really want to do go back home, I don't really know anything about quests and oracles and things"

"I don't know how to get you home young man, but I'll help all I can" Sam replied with a reassuring look. The two adventurers strolled on chatting and laughing as if they had been friends for years, until they realised it was getting dark. "We had better find somewhere to settle down for the night, its starting to get cold and dark" said Sam. They headed for a small clearing on the edge of a wood, "this looks good, I'll go and find some firewood" Sam said as he disappeared into the trees.

George sat cross legged looking up at the stars "I hope dad's not too worried about me" he thought to himself. He was snapped from his thoughts when he heard a deep whooshing sound like a steam train in the distance, but he knew it wasn't, it was just behind him in the trees. He couldn't even turn his head for fear of what lurked in the trees, he felt it getting closer by the second; then he felt the warm breath on the back of his neck, and he shuddered. George closed his eyes and reached over his left shoulder with his right hand and touched what felt like a warm slightly hairy nose. He turned and looked "it's a horse, a silly old horse thank goodness" he said with relief.

"What do you mean silly old horse!" said the horse. Well George nearly fainted; he had never met a talking horse in all his days. "I'm sorry" said George "you took me by surprise, what with the breathing on my neck and talking and......"

"Slow down my little friend, don't worry I am in the habit of creeping around. I think it's because a lot of folk would like to get their hands on one of my kind" the horse explained. "Let's start again, my name is Percimus, it's lovely to meet you"

"I'm George and I'm the....." George was abruptly stopped.

"Whoa whoa, there young man" shouted Sam as he rushed from the trees almost dropping his firewood "Remember what we said about strangers" George had forgotten "Well in my defence Sam I'm little out of sorts, due to just meeting a talking horse and being stuck in a magical land and sat in the dark in my pyjamas!" his voice got a little louder as he finished, much to Sam and Percimus surprise.

"Actually I'm a flying talking horse!" Percimus muttered to himself.

"OK lets all calm down" said Sam "who's this then George?"

George then introduced Sam to Percimus and Percimus to Sam.

"I'm very happy to meet you both" said Percimus "my friends call me Percy"

After all the introductions and George calming down, Sam set about lighting the camp fire and sharing out the bread and cheese from his bag.

George and Sam sat eating their bread and cheese as Percy chewed on the lush long grass in the clearing, after they sat and talked a while, then started to doze of to sleep.

As the three friends slept, far away in a stone walled room at the top of a dark tower lit only by one flickering torch "why have you summoned me here Daemon" came a voice from the shadows. Daemon was a dark sorcerer, in fact the darkest of all.

"I have news of the oracle my master" he said in a deep menacing tone "it's in the charge of the keeper".

"The keeper" bellowed the shadowy figure "who is this keeper, who dares to challenge my birthright?"

Daemon looked into the mystical waters that filled the silver bowl in front of him "I see three travellers, a boy, a gnome and a ..." he hesitated, "go on" said the figure "and a what?"

"The flying horse master" continued Daemon.

"Why was I not informed earlier? The keeper has already found two of the three talisman, we must find the third before he reaches the castle of Gilangar" the shadowy figure was furious.

"I beg your forgiveness great one" pleaded Daemon, but the figure in the dark had already gone.

As the sun rose, the three friends rubbed the sleep from their eyes and prepared for the day, they had decided the night before to start of early toward the golden castle. After almost an hour the glittering golden castle was in sight, it was more and more imposing the closer they got. Not long after they reached a large wooden bridge which crossed the moat that surrounded the golden castle, to the right was a little hut with a guard stood outside, he wore a shiny silver military uniform with black boots, a red sash across his chest and a really tall black hat that looked like a shiny chimney pot and not least a big rifle in his right hand with the butt on the ground by his foot.

"Let me handle this" said Sam in a posh voice "ahem, excuse me my good man we humbly request passage to the golden palace, and seek an audience with her most glorious highness Sophia"

(Continues...)

Excerpted from George Royle and the Legend of the Crystal Roseby R O Gallimore Copyright © 2010 by R O Gallimore. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Dettagli dell'edizione

• Editore: AuthorHouse
• Data di pubblicazione: 2010
• Lingua: Inglese
• ISBN 10: 1449090389
• ISBN 13: 9781449090388
• Rilegatura: Copertina flessibile
• Numero di pagine: 144
• Contatto del produttore: non disponibile
• Persona responsabile: gpsr@libri.de; gpsr@libri.de; ; Friedensallee 273; Hamburg; 22763; Germania