Chapter 4
"Don't worry I'll get right back to the story in a little while, I promise." Castle said sleepily.
Castle awoke with a start as if some internal alarm had gone off. He sat up in the chair, wondering for a moment where he was. He ran his hands over his face wiping the sleep from his eyes. The sound of the beeping heart monitor quickly reminded him where he was. His eyes went to the woman sleeping in the bed. There had been no change he noticed sadly. He reached out and took hold of her hand, giving it a gentle and reassuring squeeze. A smile came to his face as he looked at Kate.
"Ready to hear the rest of the story, Kate?" He asked. "Of course you are, I know I am...We're coming up to the part where the ruggedly handsome hero makes his first appearance." He waggled his eyes in a suggestive way.
He paused a moment, his face turning serious as he reached for the story that was assembling in his head. Then smile returned to his face.
"...It was a fresh and crisp spring morning with the sun having just peaked above the horizon filling the land with the promise of a new day. The rider crested the top of the hill and reined in his horse. The rider leaned forward in the saddle and gazed into the distance. He had been riding for most of the night and he was feeling tired. His riding cape and clothes were coated in the dust of the road. However tired he may have been the sight of the land of New York spread out before his vision did not fail to bring a big smile to his ruggedly handsome face. His spirits rose at the sight of his home town but they soared even higher knowing that within the hour he would be home from his travels.
He had been away for a month and he should have been home a couple of days ago but for him there was always another town or village to visit, another audience to entertain, another round of adulation and applause from an appreciative audience to receive. He would have tarried a while longer but an angry missive from his publisher promising all manner of harm on his person if he did not return from his jaunt had reached him and saw him riding through most of the night to return home in time.
As the rider stared at the town in the distance the smile on his face faltered a little. He had always been a great believer in the ways of the Universe. He always respected the Universe despite her sometimes fickle ways. He would be nothing but grateful to the wondrous powers of the Universe for having set him on the path that he had taken long ago. He could not help but wonder what the Universe had in store for him.
As was his want, when questioned, he always liked to say that he had come from a long line of charlatans, con-artists and circus folk. He was not sure if that was true or not but it made for the basis of an amusing story. His mother was a well established player who tread the boards of various theatres both near and far. He could have followed in her footsteps and become an actor but for him there was always stories in his head revolving around waiting for an outlet. He chose to tell stories rather than act them out.
As a young man he had set forth into the world to spin stories for those who would hear him. He would tell stories of lords and ladies, fun and adventure, high drama and villainy, murder and mystery. Soon the audiences that would gather to listen to his story spinning began to grow and grow. He had a ready story for what ever audience that sat before him. For children he had stories of high adventure and fun. The sound of children's laughter was like music to his ears and he never tired of the sound. At times he was like a child himself, a little naughty but nice.
For the older folk there were the other stories. He would build the drama slowly and slowly smiling to himself as he heard the gasps from his audience. He found that the older audiences wanted to hear stories of high adventure and mystery, of heroes and villains, of love won and love lost. It was not long after having set out on this chosen path that fame and fortune soon came to this minstrel.
It came to pass that one day it was suggested to him that he should write down some of his stories into book form so that an even greater audience may be entertained. He liked the idea and so during one winter season when travelling the roads of the various lands was arduous the Minstrel chose to stay home and picked up the quill and began to scratch out on paper one of his more popular stories.
Having found a publisher who was willing to publish his first book a work entitled In A Hail Of Arrows, the Minstrel was taken aback to discover how well received the book was. The demand for it was beyond even his wild imaginings. More fame and fortune came to him as a published author. The demand for more books grew even more strident and louder. He wrote another book, and then another.
It saddened the Minstrel just a little that he could not travel as much he would have liked, spinning his tales. However writing took up more and more of his time but he never missed an opportunity to travel from town to town weaving his stories as he promoted his latest book.
It was a few years back when the Minstrel created his most famous character, the valiant knight Sir Derrick of Storm. Much to his delight, not to mention his publisher's delight, the people could not get enough of the adventures of Sir Derrick of Storm. Wherever he travelled the people would beg of him another story of the knight's adventures. His publisher wanted more books about the adventures of Sir Derrick. If it was possible, even more fame and fortune came to the Minstrel.
At this moment in time as he gazed down at the town of his birth as it slowly came awake, Richard the Minstrel was at the height of his fame and fortune. His literary powers were razor sharp, his storytelling powers were magical and the envy of his fellow minstrels.
There were other benefits that came with being a famous minstrel. There was many a lady of every station in life who vied for his favours. There were times when making an appearance he would be mobbed by these ladies in the most shameless of manner. The Minstrel found it amusing and at times would play up to it being charming and suggestive at the same time. He could shock and amuse with equal measure. It tickled him to see these ladies blush. He could have his pick of any beautiful woman who would throw themselves at him and long in the past he had partaken of such amusements.
Richard the Minstrel was not the shameless womaniser, though his reputation may have said otherwise. It was what his adoring public expected and so he played the role in public to appease them. Part shameless womaniser, part scallywag but every part storyteller.
Though the adventures of Sir Derrick of Storm had become a literary cash cow the Minstrel had grown tired of him. He did not mind telling stories of the valiant knight to eager audiences for that is what they wished to hear, they begged him to tell another story of the valiant knight yet for the Minstrel Sir Derrick had become a chore, a burden. It was not fun any more.
What once had been a delight for the Minstrel to sit down at his desk and write a new adventure for his valiant creation, it had now become tiresome. The Minstrel knew exactly what was going to happen to Sir Derrick before it happened. For the Minstrel writing had always been an exciting journey full of unexpected surprises. There were no more surprises when it came to Sir Derrick.
Before setting off on his latest travels he had finally finished the latest adventure of Sir Derrick but he had added one final twist to the tale. He had the valiant Sir Derrick of Storm killed off in the final pages. He could well imagine the look on the face of his publisher when she had read the final pages of his latest book. That was one of the reasons he found an excuse to leave town on the pretext of another tale telling tour. He did not fancy facing the Lady Gina in high dungeon. It was not a pretty sight to behold.
Having feasted on the sight of his home town Richard the Minstrel spurred his horse forward. While he was happy to be returning home and to seeing his family once more there was also a hint of sadness in those blue eyes of his. Despite all of the fame and fortune at his command Richard the Minstrel felt that there was something missing in his life. For the life of him he did not know what it was. It bothered him that he did not know. Yet he trusted the Universe would show him in time what it was.
Richard the Minstrel's home was a multi storey dwelling made of stone and brick that was surrounded by a high wall. He might have been a famous minstrel but Richard the Minstrel liked his privacy. Behind the walls of his abode was a cobble stone courtyard with a set of stables to one side and the house on the other. A modest garden with a wide lawn was at the front of the house where the minstrel like to hold modest parties for friends and acquaintances celebrating some festival or another. An even larger garden was at the back of the house. It was here where he held the most lavish of celebrations for the festival of All Hallows Eve, Christmas and by far most important of all, his birthday. Some of these soirées had become legendary.
Richard the Minstrel passed through the open gates and entered the court yard. Some of the tiredness of the long ride sloughed off him now that he was home. Dismounting from the horse, he tethered it to a hitching post. Patting its neck in silent gratitude for having returned him to the bosom of his family he turned to face the house. A beaming smile leaped to his face upon seeing the young red headed girl emerging from the house.
"Father!" Alexis exclaimed as she rushed to greet her father.
"Daughter!" Richard responded sweeping his daughter into his arms and giving her a big hug.
"Eww, you smell of horse sweat." Alexis remarked as she broke from her father's embrace.
"Don't blame me." Richard laughed. "Blame Derrick." He nodded in the direction of the tethered horse.
"Truly, Dad I still can't believe you named your famous hero after your horse." Alexis said shaking her head.
"Why ever not, darling child of mine?" Richard said trying not to sound put out. "It's a good name."
Alexis shook her head but there was a smile on her face. "If only your adoring public knew."
"Well we wont tell them will we?" Richard said in a conspiratorial tone.
"Rest easy, Dad, your secret is safe with me."
"Come darling child of mine, I will regale you with stories of my time on the road." Richard said excitedly as he put his arm around her shoulder.
"It is a school day, dad."
"Awww" The Minstrel pouted with disappointment.
"I'm sure the stories can wait until diner time?"
"Do you really have to go to school today? I could send a message to the principal to say you have come down with some horrible disease?"
Alexis looked up at her father and gave him a pointed look.
"I have not seen you in over a month." Richard whined.
"And so our meeting after school will be all the more joyous, dad." Alexis said. "Would you prefer I fail school and be forced to travel the highways and byways of this land with you or tread the boards like Grams?"
That remark sobered the Minstrel. "You make a very good point, Alexis. We must strive to have at least one intellectual in the family if for nothing else than to balance it against the long line of hucksters, charlatans, con-artists..."
"And circus folk." Alexis said finishing the sentence with practised ease.
Richard looked down at his daughter and smiled. He drew her into another hug and kissed the top of her head before releasing her.
"I shall detain you no longer from your schooling." He announced as he released her.
"Your publisher visited here yesterday, dad."
"What did that harpy want?"
"She left you a note."
"Filled with the usual dark imprecations I shouldn't imagine."
"Pretty much." Alexis grinned.
"That's what one gets when you have a publisher who is also your ex-wife." Richard sighed.
He would have to go and pay her a visit, Richard thought to himself but not before he had a hot soaking bath and rested from the the long journey.
"Grams is still asleep, so don't make too much noise." Alexis informed him.
"Another wild party with her theatre friends?" Richard ventured.
"Not as wild as you would think."
"Does my wine cellar need replenishing?"
"It is all ready taken care of dad."
"Thank you Daughter."
"My pleasure Father."
Richard the Minstrel watched with swelling pride in his heart as he watched his daughter heading off to school. He might now spend more and more time at home writing novels rather than travelling and spinning tales but the main reason he stayed home was the young girl now heading off to school. He was both father and mother to her. There were times when he wondered who was the child and who was the parent in this relationship. Truth be told he was not sure..."
Castle paused in his story and reached for the glass of water on the side table. He took a big sip of water, not realising how dry his throat had become as he was telling the story. He glanced in the direction of the door and was surprised to see that there was a small crowd hovering in the doorway. Rebecca and the two other nurses from before were standing there along with a couple of orderlies and one or two others.
"Don't mind us, Mr Castle." Rebecca said, offering an apologetic smile.
Castle smiled at the gathered audience and nodded his head. "What time is it?" He asked.
"It's a little after two, Mr Castle."
Castle finished the water and returned the empty glass back to the table. He turned his attention back to Kate. The smile on his face deepened as he gazed at her sleeping face.
"We're coming up to another interesting part to the story." he said. "Yes, I know you want to know what it is but I'm not going to spoil it for you. Just be a little patient."