EXTRACT: Return to Balkonia

An extract from Maureen McDermott's young adult adventure story...

Home Again!

Garth’s heart beat wildly! Behind the next bend was his home.

He forgot his travelling companions and ran the last five hundred metres into the waiting arms of his grandparents, who had been told of his return.

Rosamund and the others eventually caught up and then waited at a distance, until Garth, remembering them, turned and said to his grandparents, ‘These are my dear friends!’ And then he said to Rosamund, ‘Rosamund, here are your grandparents!’

It was an awkward moment, for neither the elderly couple nor the aloof and regal Rosamund knew how to behave. Although it was not obvious to all those who surrounded her, Rosamund suffered from the shame of having been in the service of the king who had done so much evil in their country. Her grandparents, however, were kind and sensitive people, and they guessed at her confusion and internal sorrow. So, in spite of certain misgivings and some internal resentment, they still outwardly displayed kindness and courtesy and welcomed her.

To give the reunited family some living space, the rest of the travelling party camped a little further down on the riverbank. Still, the conditions inside the mud and willow cabin were cramped, especially for Rosamund, who was used to a very comfortable lifestyle. To do her justice though, no one ever heard her complain. If truth be told, while the elderly couple admired her for this and were overjoyed at having her returned to them, yet they found it very difficult to cope with the whole phenomenon of Rosamund. While they found Rosamund a problem to deal with, they found it well-nigh impossible to cope with the phenomenon of the Troll! The idea that the fierce Troll that had for so many years guarded the nearby bridge was a companion of their beloved Garth – and further, part of the liberation group camped a little way from their cabin – was beyond their comprehension!

***

On arrival at the childhood home of Garth, the Troll had stayed in a small tent set up for him, further down on the riverbank. The decision to site an individual camp for the Troll away from the activity of the main camp and also away from the home of Garth’s grandparents, had been twofold. It was generally recognised that the presence of the Troll was a great problem to the elderly couple, and secondly, the Troll himself needed time and space for the wound in his side to continue to heal.

Staying stationary in one camp place greatly aided in the healing of his wound, and on the fifth day after their arrival, the Troll woke up early, feeling a great deal better than he had in previous days. Dreamily lying on his camp bed, listening to the early morning calls of birds, he slowly became aware of the sweet smell of the nearby river. Shaking himself into full consciousness, he was overcome with a longing to wander around his old territory.

His dreamy state replaced with a steady determination, he left his small camp site and made his way along the riverbank till he came to the bridge, where not so long ago he had been the resident “bridge keeper”. Still a little weak from the wound in his side and tired from his walk, the Troll sat down on a grassy bank to rest. He felt peace and contentment as he gazed around at the lush environment. The trees, shiny with early morning dew and the birds in their branches sang songs that were familiar to him. He was pleasantly aware of the rustle of small riverside animals as they sought out their breakfast in the sparse undergrowth, back from the grassy bank on which he was sitting. Gradually, his eyes turned from taking in the whole picture to focusing on his beloved river. He continued his meditative staring of the slow-moving river for some time, but then he slowly became aware of silvery darting shapes.