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144 pages, 6 1/2" x 9 1/2"
Trade paperback book of historical Christian
fiction
$14.85 US currency
plus shipping and packaging ($2.15 within the United States).
$1.43 WA sales tax for Washington residents.
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Phone: 360-590-1285
email: 
Dameron book
1419 W. Simpson
Montesano, WA 98563
About the Author
Jim Dameron lives in Montesano, WA in the heart
of Grays Harbor county. The son of a minister, Jim has studied
English and Anthropology.
After graduation, he spent 10 years teaching
school before breaking out on his own as a self-employed carpenter
while rearing 2 fine sons to adulthood.
Jim and his wife, Sammie, have traveled widely
in the U.S., England, Mexico, and Uganda.
Reviews
"A great read! The author manages to immersed
me into the total experience of the 5th century. I can't wait
for the next book." -Allan Kalar
"The Master's Reliquary is a delight....
The ruggedness of the setting is exciting and real.... At
Chapter 14 curiosity grew and at Chapter 17 I was at the 'can't
put it down' stage." -Linda Anderson
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Reliquary
- A vessel enshrining that which is beyond price
Category: book - novel - historical - Christian
- fiction
Summary:
An ancient cedar chest from the hands of
the master carpenter, Jesus. A time of violence in the warring
fifth-century kingdoms of Dalriada and Cruithne (ancient Ireland
and Scotland). Brother Brude, a product of both cultures and
guardian of the precious chest, must search out the will of
God from amid the demands of men.
Sample passages:
Brude is one of a party of
Christian monks under the leadership of Brother Muiredach,
sent from Dalriada to bring the Good News of Christ to the
Picts of Cruithne. Since the muscular Brude is a Pict foundling
reared by the monks, he is ideal as an interpreter and bearer
for the mission. The party arrived in Cruithne and made friends
with one of the tribes, who marvel at Brude's facial tattoos
that seem to indicate he is from an important family. They
are now traveling inland to the home of the fierce Pict king,
Maelcon.
Brude awoke
with a start. He realized that he had been betrayed into sleep
by tiredness and the lulling stream. He stood and stepped
back onto the trail, looking about for a moment. Everyone
must have passed him by now, unseen though only a few yards
away. He turned and set out at a fast pace in order to catch
the group, whom he reasoned could not have gone very far.
Before long, Brude, with relief,
heard a shout ahead. At first he thought it must be a call
to halt for the night. Moments later, after rounding a bend,
he suddenly saw the wagon. With alarm Brude realized that
around it surged a confused movement of armed and mounted
men. One warrior was gesturing angrily with a long lance.
As Brude hurried toward the scene he saw Brother Muiredach
climbing painfully down from the wagon, but the angry warrior
was looking at someone else. Suddenly the warrior drew back
his arm and drove his lance violently downward. Brude rounded
the ponies in time to watch Conall fall, blood on his chest.
Derelei also was down, bent over on hands and knees.
"Stop, devil!" shouted
Muiredach, waving his arms.
In a flash of silver and iron, the
Pict wheeled his horse, arm rising again to strike the old
man. Brude was almost there. He saw the blade descending,
made a last desperate stride, and caught the spear's wooden
shaft in one outstretched hand.
Brought up short, the warrior glared
furiously down at Brother Brude, uttering a sharp word that
Brude did not know. The man had twin zig-zag arrows etched
across his brow, and in a quick glance Brude saw that several
others in the group of horsemen were marked also. And he was
surprised to see Ciniod in their midst.
Leaning forward, the warrior now
made to pull his weapon from Brude's grasp. But when Brude's
grip did not slacken, the unprepared Pict instead jerked himself
clear of the saddle and fell heavily to the ground. In a rage,
he staggered to his feet and drew a sword.
"Caitt, enough!" called
another of the Pict warriors. He jumped his horse between
Brude and the unseated horseman.
Caitt wiped blood from his face.
"Maelcon did not say to be gentle with them," he
said derisively.
"He also did not say to bring
in a wagon-load of corpses," snapped the other. "He
wants to speak to this one."
Brude threw down the lance and went
to where Conall lay with his head cradled in Derelei's lap.
"Leave him, he is finished,"
said the warrior Caitt.
"We can aid him."
The one who had protected Brude
swung down from his horse beside Brude and looked at Conall.
After a moment he nodded. "This one has courage. Do what
you will, but be quick - Maelcon waits."
Brude knelt by his friend. Bloody
foam lay on Conall's lips. His closed eyes and too-white face
were framed in Derelei's gentle hands, while tears ran down
the boy's cheeks.
"Will he die?" asked Derelei
through sobs.
"We will pray to God that he
doesn't. Why did they do this?"
The boy looked up at Brude. "They
were searching for you. They kept asking me, since the others
did not understand. I said that I didn't know where you were,
but that devilish one pushed me down with his boot. Con-all
came between us."
"His lung may be pierced,"
said Domigart. "We must put him aboard the wagon."
The mediciner pressed firmly on the wound while Brude carefully
lifted Conall's slight frame. A faint groan came from the
young Brother. Derelei and Dungal quickly leveled a space
in the wagon, padding it with blankets. Brude laid Conall
there, and Domigart propped the lolling head against the canvas-covered
reliquary.
"Someone must keep his head
up and hold the wound so."
"The boy can do it," said
Muiredach. "He is the lightest."
Brude relayed this request to Derelei,
who hurriedly moved into Domigart's place.
Impatience was showing in the Pict
riders. "Come, let us be off!" called Caitt. He
at once slapped one pony's rump, sending the wagon lurching
forward. The other Brothers came hastily after.
On the trip to Maelcon's
stronghold, Brude makes friends with Athfotla, one of the
king's sons who heads the Pict party. The monks are introduced
to King Maelcon who is unimpressed by their God and wants
nothing to do with Him or with them. He orders them to leave.
Since it is late, the monks spend the night nearby. Brude
is determined to remain behind
Calls
in the camp awoke Brude to an ice-covered dawn. Caitt and
his men were rousting the Brothers, and Brude presumed this
was in preparation for their leaving. But that was not all,
as he learned from Caitt.
"Bring yourselves - all of
your Brotherhood," he said coldly. "We go to Maelcon
and his Lords. And carry with you the chest which holds your
god."
Brude went to prepare the reliquary,
though why Maelcon would want it brought also he did not know.
He wished the more friendly Athfotla had come, who might answer
their questions. Quickly they all readied themselves and,
with Muiredach in the lead, followed Caitt.
Once more they entered the inner
courtyard with its large pool of black water now rimmed with
the first frost of early fall. There, Brude was surprised
to see a group of men standing like warhorses in a cloud of
frosted breath. Coming nearer, he realized that this was Maelcon
himself and the others from the hall. Brude began to feel
uneasy about the meaning of this meeting.
However, Maelcon stepped to Muiredach
and seemed courteous, if also grimly formal. "Muiredach,
we accept the homage you have paid us. But we do not welcome
your Brotherhood and your god. You may not stay among our
people here, filling them with weakness. Return now to Dalriada,
and do not come to my lands again."
When told Maelcon's meaning, Muiredach
said nothing, only bowing his head slightly. Though this decision
was no more than what they had expected, the ending of his
purpose appeared to deflate the old Brother.
Maelcon now turned unexpectedly
to Brude. "You have made claim to my people that your
god holds sway in my land. Do you still say this?"
Brude felt that somehow he was being
maneuvered by Maelcon into some error, but he could only answer
the truth. "Yes, the Lord is not of Roma or Dalriada,
but of all. Though you send us away, He will remain."
Maelcon seemed maliciously satisfied.
"I will show all here that he speaks falsely, and that
this god has no power." Pointing to the reliquary, he
said to Caitt, "Bind that chest with chain and sink it
to the bottom of Fortriu Pool!"
Shocked, Brude appealed to Muiredach.
"Brother, they are taking the reliquary!"
"Maelcon, I protest! That holds
our sacred Scripture."
Hearing this from Brude, the Pict
king said only, "Do not worry, your god will be honored
to lie in this Pool."
Servants had dragged heavy links
of chain to the edge of the water. But when the men went to
lay hands on the reliquary, Brude could not contain himself
and leaped to block their way.
"Stand aside," commanded
Maelcon.
"Maelcon, do not do this,"
Brude pleaded.
Angrily, Maelcon loosed his sword
and stepped menacingly toward Brude. "Will you move?"
"I cannot."
Maelcon raised the sword, and for
a moment it seemed that he would strike Brude down. Finally
he lowered his arm. "No," Maelcon said in a tone
as cold as the morning. "You will have more than you
deserve. And Orkney will be satisfied." Turning again
to Caitt, he said, "Bind him also to the chest, and let
them go into the Pool together!"
Unresisting, Brude allowed himself
to be pushed roughly back onto the reliquary. The lid was
knocked awry, and one corner stuck painfully into his shoulder.
Then chain began to be wound over his body. When Muiredach
realized what was being done, he called urgently to Maelcon,
"Wait! Mine is the responsibility for these Brothers.
This must be my duty!"
Not bothering to learn Muiredach's
meaning, Maelcon snarled, "Be quiet, old man. I am tired
of your foreign speech."
Strangely, though he had accomplished
nothing toward preserving the reliquary, Brude felt at peace.
It was not a peace of quietness and comfort, but a peace of
rightness which overcame his fear. He could not have stood
by and said nothing. He watched Caitt hammering down with
satisfaction the binding link of the chain. He prayed that
all the Brothers would return home safely, and he prayed that
Derelei, Drust, and Ciniod would not forget the True God.
Muiredach's face appeared briefly,
and the old Brother spoke quietly. "Wisdom may not suit
you, Brother, but your faith serves you well. God be with
you."
Hands pulled Muiredach away, and
Brude heard Maelcon say, "Get on with it!"
Brother Brude felt himself being
dragged onto an overhang of stone. He was tipped slowly upward
and caught a last glimpse of those standing by. Then slowly
he fell what seemed an endless distance down to the water.
The shock of the cold was greater
than anything he had ever felt. He cried out, and bubbles
of air escaped his mouth to drift upward. Great gouts of air
also came from the reliquary, rocking Brude and eventually
turning him so that he looked up to the receding light of
the surface. Quickly this light faded to blackness as he dropped
down to settle with a bump on the bottom.
Brude felt himself on the verge
of life. The icy cold began to change somehow to warmth, moving
from his fingers into the center of his body. His lungs ceased
to cry out for air. Strangely, his eyes began gradually once
more to see light in the distance. A loud rushing filled his
ears, and then, in that rushing, someone called to him.
He strained to hear the words, but
soon found that he did not need to, for the voice grew stronger,
saying, "Brude, break the chains. Rise up."
Brude moved his fingers around and
found a loop of the chain passing over his chest. He grasped
a link with both hands and pulled with all his strength. When
nothing happened, a sense of futility began to fill him. But
the voice came again, like a father patiently coaxing his
son, "Break the chain; I am with you." Again
he strained, as if against stiff tar, stretching and stretching.
Suddenly the chain parted.
Unwrapping the chain, Brude found
himself floating free of the reliquary. He reached down and
pulled it up. Then he began to walk through the mud toward
where the light seemed brightest.
Those watching on the surface saw
first a roiling at the shallow end of the pool. Then Brude,
carrying the streaming reliquary, emerged from the water.
His face was white as ice, and with racking shudders he took
in great breaths of air. Maelcon, still clutching his sword,
dropped it with a clang to the stone pavement.
Brother Muiredach and Domigart,
with Dungal, rushed to Brude and threw their own cloaks about
him. They helped him lift the lid and empty the reliquary
of water, snatching the wrapped bundle of Scripture as it
washed out. Then, carrying the reliquary, they walked past
the silent Picts and back to their camp.
There Brude sank to the ground and
fell into a timeless and dream-filled sleep. He dreamed that
he was again deep in the water of the pool. But there was
no fear, for warmth enclosed him, and the light grew to such
brightness that he half closed his eyes. And the voice was
there too, though no words sounded. Brude simply knew the
comforting and soothing presence. After a long time of drifting,
the voice said, "You must rise up again, and go through
every part of this land. Arise now."
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