The Trumpeter of Krakow by Eric P. Kelly
Joseph knew only a few things when he left the Ukraine with his mother and father.
Mostly he knew...
-His family was in danger.
-They had powerful relatives with connections in Poland.
-His father guarded, transported and highly valued a seemingly average pumpkin.
When his family arrived in Krakow, Joseph learned...
-The people who had been chasing them in the Ukraine had made it to Poland as well.
-Their relatives had been run out of town.
-The pumpkin Joseph's father guarded held an ancient, mystic secret.
The title
The Trumpeter of Krakow isn't a perfect description of the book's plot, but it does give a hint about the interesting sub-plot to the main action. After securing a place to live in Krakow, Joseph's father becomes the trumpeter of the city and has to play a certain tune every hour. He also enlists his neighbors' and others' help in trying to obtain an audience with the king, believing the king is the only one trustworthy and powerful enough to share his secret. However, with dangerous Tartars searching for him and double-crossing neighbors out to secure their own fortunes, his time is limited.
Joseph, meanwhile, makes friends quickly with the girl who lives upstairs. He also enrolls in school and becomes somewhat of an apprentice to his father, learning the piece to play on the trumpet. This skill works greatly in his and his family's favor later in the book.
While the plot briefly drags at times, and today's readers might find the language a bit stiff,
The Trumpeter of Krakow is still a worthwhile read. Readers will find ancient mysticism mixed with a bit of history, young romance and the fate of a city resting on the wit and logic of Joseph.
Favorite quotes:The prestige of the various colleges and the reputation of the men who taught there had drawn to Krakow not only genuine students but also many of the craft that live by their wits in all societies, in all ages--fortune tellers and astrologers, magicians and palmists, charlatans, necromancers, and fly-by-nights who were forever eluding the authorities of the law. Here, somewhere on the Street of the Pigeons, they all found lodging.He is not a servant of the Church, though a good Christian.A priest he might have been, a brother of some order he seemed, but a scholar he was certainly, for there was that in his face and a droop to the shoulders that proclaimed him a man of letters.
