The Mystical Swagman. Gary Blinco
been following about half a mile behind our own. In short order, the unfortunate crewmembers who had survived were tossed overboard like rag dolls, and the ship was sailed away to wherever the pirates kept their lair. Helpless to alter the outcome, I watched this brutal attack with growing horror, while our captain jettisoned as much cargo as he dared to lighten our ship and increase her speed. However, one of the longboats did manage to catch our ship as she fled, the pirates preparing ropes and ladders with which to board; and then our captain urged his crew to prepare to fight to the death.
Brengazi waited patiently near the rail until he could make eye contact with the invading pirates. When he did, he began to conjure up images of fire and lightning and hordes of fierce sailors; and the pirates quickly fell back in fear. Sadly, during the struggle Brengazi was struck in the head by a stray round from a musket, and fell to the deck in a rapidly spreading pool of blood. Despite my frantic ministrations, he died quickly and silently right there on the deck, his hopes and dreams flowing from his body with the crimson blood that stained my hands as I cradled his head.
By then the valiant crew of the tall ship had repelled the confused pirates, and a sudden high wind gathered up the vessel and bore it quickly away from the scene of the carnage before others could reach us. Brengazi’s brave actions had saved the ship and the life of his son, and I knew as I held his dead body that I would honour my promise to him until my own death.
I spent the rest of that journey compiling this journal, as I wanted one day to be able to share the secrets I know and thus discharge my promise to his father. Brengazi had told me that the boy’s mystical powers would begin to emerge when his age reached double figures: this, he felt, would be the appropriate time to tell him of his strange beginnings and his mission in life. He had been resolute that his son should use his powers to help people in the new world, where the ancient forces of darkness and evil were not yet in play. He had also warned me that the boy should not be told anything of his history until the first sign of his mystical powers emerged, because only then would he be mature enough to develop his inherited skills for the good of all he encountered.
At last the ship arrived at the colony. There I met up with my dear wife, Ede, who had accompanied my brother to the new land earlier to seek out suitable property for investment. When I had inherited considerable wealth from my own father, we had decided to leave behind the troubled old country of England, determined to make a new and successful start in the wonderful new land across the sea that we had heard so much about. Even then I had an inexhaustible thirst for knowledge and was probably too keen for adventure, so I opted to send my wife and my younger brother on ahead with the main English convoy while I made other travel plans for myself. I decided to take a route through the ancient countries of the East in search of knowledge, as well as goods that be of use to us in the new land. Little had I known what wonderful things I would see on that journey, let alone that I would end up with a child to rear, one with a mysterious past and a fantastic future.
That child was several months of age by the time we disembarked the ship, and no longer dependent on the wetnurse who was longing to return to her own people. It was therefore arranged right there at the port that the woman would be sent back with the very next convoy to rejoin her family. Ede was eager to take care of the child, being too old to have any children of her own. When she held out her arms, the child responded at once. She admired his dark locks, smooth brown skin, and large, liquid blue eyes. “But what is the child’s name?” she asked as she held him close and stroked his cheek. “You have not told me the boy’s name.”
I confess that I was caught off guard at this point. It had not occurred to me before that the boy had not yet been named, and now both his parents were dead and could not be consulted. “His name is Brennan,” I said at last, deciding to use a combination of Brengazi, the boy’s father, and Nan, the name of the white princess. “He will bear no other name, just Brennan, and he will be known to the world from now on as our nephew.”
As I began to take charge of my affairs, I was distressed to learn that my brother had made no investments and had squandered much of my fortune in the bars and fleshpots of the new colony. I managed to overcome my anger, however, aware of my own selfishness by my going off adventuring and leaving too much responsibility with my brother and Ede. Instead, I threw myself into the exclusive control of my own business, and took up a large selection along the river on the outskirts of the colony, quickly developing a successful mixed farm. I like to think of myself as a clever and industrious man. My dear wife, though, was a simple but kind woman, and my brother was a man who preferred to enjoy the fruits of others’ labour, being reluctant to work hard himself. Neither of them were therefore ideal business partners; but I nonetheless resolved to build the best life I could for all of us here in the new country.
I also built a busy and successful trading post, buying materials, goods and produce from all over the colony. The goods we then either sold to the settlers or exported them back to the old country. We worked hard and within three short years we were quite successful and our endeavours in our adopted country were returning comfortable profits. During this time, I had taken my ‘friend’, the sorcerer’s son, as my own nephew, and my wife and I nurtured the child with all the love and attention we would have focused on our own child, had Ede been able to have children herself.
This is the end of the Journal.
Letter from
John Greenway,
October 10, 1853
That is the end of my story, Brennan, and it has been a sad and melancholy but nevertheless personally exciting tale for the most part. In the end it has been a great source of joy for Ede and me to take care of you and love you as our own, though I know we can never replace the parents you have lost. This journal began on a tall ship and I have added to it over the years until this day, the tenth day of October, 1853. Now I will put it away in a safe place, for as well as I can reckon you are about four years old, and you will soon begin to form memories of your own.
This secret journal I have compiled about your beginnings is to be discreetly buried in a metal box under the cottage I have built in the city, a place where I feel it will be safe until it is time to share it with you. I have left special instruction in my last will and testament, which is in the care of my brother, Arthur, regarding what is to be done with this journal, and when it is to be shared with you. If I do not survive to share it with you, my boy, hopefully Ede will be able to do so under the terms of my instructions. But if she too is no longer around when the time comes, someone who is responsible for your well being will pass this metal box into your care, along with whatever remains of your inheritance.
I do not know what the future will hold for you, my boy, or how much of it we will get to spend with you. But I do know that you must travel widely throughout this wonderful new land, for this is how you will meet new people and opportunities to develop and share the special gifts that have been instilled within you by your parents. As you grow and your powers grow with you, it will be important to keep on the move so that you do not risk becoming a curiosity by remaining in one place for too long. To become an object of curiosity means that you will either be revered or reviled, and it is best that you maintain a balance in your existence. Life holds many challenges and rewards for you, Brennan, and in helping others you will ultimately find fulfillment in your own heart.
John Greenway
Postscript to John Greenway’s Story
One year later John Greenway was tragically killed while loading a ship. The rope supporting a huge cargo net broke, releasing its load on top of him as he stood on the dock below. Greenway died instantly, taking the secret of the boy’s beginnings and the location of the journal with him to his eternity.
Greenway’s brother moved quickly to claim most of his assets, carefully creating a false last will and testament to replace the original document left in his care by his brother. This false will transferred most of the estate into his own name, and ignored the instructions regarding the disbursement of the tin box and the journal. In his haste to cover his transgressions, Arthur burned the true will and the instructions in the fire, and they were lost forever.
Ede was left with a small income and the cottage in the city as her only inheritance.
She