A Minstrel’s Quest (The Trouble with Magic Book 4) by B. J. Beach Read Free Book Online Page A

“Now perhaps you will play for us, Corlin Bentfoot?”
    Perched on the edge of a chair, Corlin slipped the soft leather strap over his shoulder and checked the instrument’s tuning. “It will be my pleasure sire, although it was not this instrument I anticipated playing.”
    Irritation flickered in the duke’s eyes. “Nevertheless, I would hear you play, if only to assess your worthiness to make the attempt on this house’s cursed instrument.” He leaned forward. “After all, that is the reason for your presence here, is it not?”
    Corlin’s long fingers caressed the strings, sending melodious chords and harmonics singing through the warm air of the room. He stopped the sounds and, determination in his grey-green eyes, looked across at the duke. “Perhaps, my lord Duke, you would tell me the story of your gimalin and its curse. Then, while I play, I can consider the best way to approach this task which, believe me, I don’t undertake by choice.”
    His eyes alive with curiosity, the old duke’s eyebrows twitched. “Then, unlike those pathetic few before you, fame and riches are not your goal?”
    Moving the gimalin to rest, Corlin shook his head. “Not at all. A certain WestLands lord who owns what was my father’s small-holding, has taken my younger brother into slavery. He will release him only if I find and present him with some supposedly magical clock before the next Winter Festival.”
    The duke clasped his hands under his chin. “And what were you hoping to achieve by coming here?”
    Corlin’s gaze drifted across to the magician, who seemed to have recovered and was listening intently. “I thought that if I was able to play your ‘unplayable’ gimalin, you might give me some kind of help.”
    A long anguished groan escaped from Grumas’ lips. “You were doubtless thinking of asking my Lord Duke if he knew where this clock can be found.”
    Stunned, Corlin nodded. Grumas’ expression grew pained. “There are certain things I must tell you before you make the attempt. If you are not successful, everything I tell you will be erased from your memory. If you cannot accept that, then you will not be allowed to try. Is that understood?”
    Corlin looked at the duke, who was now gazing into the fire, apparently lost in thoughts of his own. His lips pressed tight together, the minstrel nodded his agreement.
    The magician sat quietly for a few moments, then began his tale. “The clock that you seek does indeed exist. It is a large and ornate mechanical clock, crafted and empowered in this castle by an evil mage, whose name I’m sure you have discovered but evidently have so far had the sense not to say aloud. When the work was completed the clock was dismantled and separated into three pieces.”
    He held up a hand to forestall the question that Corlin was about to ask. “When and if the gimalin is sounded, certain memories will be awoken in Duke Ergwyn’s mind. I suspect that the boon which is spoken of is not wealth but simply the locations of those pieces.” He wrung his bony hands together. “The mage who crafted it sent me into Tregwald on an errand. When I returned the deed had been done, and clock and mage had vanished.”
    Corlin’s mind was in a whirl and he struggled to frame a sensible question. “Do you...I mean...were you...you were here when it was made?”
    The magician grimaced. “Indeed I was. I had been his apprentice for five years and had qualified as Master Magician only the year before. The duke had only just come of age, and I think the mage planned to use the clock to gain the lands and entitlements due to the Duke of Tregwald.”
    The minstrel scratched his head and frowned. “But how could he if he’d blocked the duke’s memory...unless...” He gave a grim smile as the truth dawned. “Something went wrong. No-one was able to play the gimalin, and the duke lived on.”
    Grumas nodded in agreement. “Thankfully. I seem to remember there being an inscription