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The Bitterbynde Trilogy

Page 102

by Cecilia Dart-Thornton


  The ululation of the pack crescendoed, soon augmented by the deafening blare of horns. She dared not look back, but it seemed as if the Hunt must be almost on her shoulders, when without warning the whippet disappeared into a hole in a hillock. Ashalind followed suit, not a moment too soon, and the horde thundered past overhead.

  Gasping for life, the damsel lay with outflung arms in the umbra of a deep cavern whose floor sloped gradually downward. Her throat and chest burned. Somewhere nearby, the little dog whimpered uneasily, and she sensed that it was trying to communicate. Still panting, she crawled in the direction of the sound.

  The quietude outside was split by a roar and a concussion that made the ground shake. Handfuls of clay nodules and damp soil showered onto her hair and ragged clothes. After springing up in blind panic, the refugee ran farther into the cave, only to feel the floor drop away beneath her feet. She started to slide. The dagger was still in her hands—swiveling her body like an acrobat, she jammed the blade into the soil to halt her progress. Loose pebbles slipped past and down—she must have stumbled, in her mad rush, over the edge of a shaft. The dagger stayed firmly embedded and she realised she had not fallen far. Her feet dangled over some unguessable depth. She hung from the weapon’s hilt. Just above her head the whippet stood, whining. When she looked up she saw its anxious form backlit by gray light from the cave’s entrance.

  The bellowing roar blared again, and heavy steps caused the ground to vibrate. Something monstrous and massive was approaching, and everything trembled before it. Its weight might cause a cave-in, burying her and the whippet. Doubtless the giant, or whatever it was, intended to do just that. In an agony of effort Ashalind heaved herself up, slid down, tried again, and finally inched herself up over the edge of the shaft. As she crawled up and over, on her elbows, her face level with the dog’s muzzle, she saw it wag its tail with delight to see her safe.

  ‘No!’ she mouthed in helpless exhaustion. The animal trotted toward her.

  ‘No, no!’ she tried to scream; but no words came from her wight-whipped throat, and, unchastized, the white whippet licked her face in innocent and loving greeting—the kiss of the Erith-born.

  Acknowledgments

  Yallery Brown: The tale of Yallery Brown is inspired by an article in ‘Legends of the Cars’, by Mrs Balfour. Folk-Lore 11, 1891.

  McKeightley and the Antlered One: Inspired by The Devil at Ightfield’, collected in English Legends by Henry Bett, Batsford, London, 1952. This traditional tale has many variants.

  Perdret Olvath: Inspired by ‘The Fairy Widower’, from Popular Romances of the West of England, by Robert Hunt. London, 1865.

  Eilian: Inspired by a traditional tale collected in Celtic Folklore, Welsh and Manx, (vol. 1) collected by John Rhys. Oxford University Press, 1901. Also inspired by an account of a Faêrie Rade in Remains of Nithsdale and Galloway Song, collected by R. H. Cromek. Cadell & Davies, London, 1810.

  The Midwife and the Faêran: Inspired by a tale in Celtic Folklore, Welsh and Manx (vol. 1) collected by John Rhys. Oxford University Press, 1901.

  The Stolen Child: Inspired by the old folktale ‘The Stanhope Fairies’, collected in Folk-Tales of the North Country, by F. Grice. Nelson, London and Edinburgh, 1944.

  Lake Coumluch: Inspired by the traditional tale ‘The World Below the Water’, collected in Legendary Stories of Wales, by E. M. Wilkie. George G. Harrap & Co. Ltd., London, Bombay, Sydney, 1934.

  Meroudys and Orfeo: Inspired by MS. Ashmole 61, reproduced in Illustrations of the Fairy Mythology of Shakespeare, by Halliwell, reprinted by W. C. Hazlitt in Fairy Tales, Legends and Romances Illustrating Shakespeare, 1875.

  The Enchanted Knight: Inspired by a traditional ballad recorded in No. 39a, The English & Scottish Popular Ballads, edited by F. J. Child. The Folklore Press in Association with the Pagent Book Co., New York, 1957.

  Bevan Shaw and the Mermaid: Inspired by ‘The Mermaid of Gob-Ny-Ooyl’, a folktale collected by Sophia Morrison for Manx Fairy Tales. Nutt, London, 1911.

  Vinegar Tom: Inspired by a folktale collected by the late Ruth Tongue and reproduced in County Folklore VIII, Somerset Folklore. Folklore Society, 1965. The rhyme is a traditional quotation.

  Liban: Inspired by the folktale ‘The Sea-Morgan’s Baby’, collected by the late Ruth Tongue for her book Forgotten Folk-Tales, 1970.

  Evan Sayle and the Mermaid: Inspired by the folktale ‘John Reid and the Mermaid’, in Scenes and Legends of the North of Scotland. Hugh Miller, Edinburgh, 1872.

  Scoom Weel Your Fish: Inspired by and partially quoted from the folktale ‘The Mermaid Released’, County Folklore III, Orkney and Shetland Islands. Edited by G. K. Black. Folklore Society, 1903.

  The Piper and the Rats: Inspired by ‘The Pied Piper’, Joseph Jacobs ‘More English Fairytales’, 1894.

  Lutey and the Mermaid: Inspired by a folktale collected in Traditional and Hearthside Stories of West Cornwall, 1st series. William Bottrell, Penzance, 1870.

  Lazy Molly: Inspired by a folktale collected in A Book of Folklore, by Sabine Baring-Gould. Collins, London, n.d.

  The Swanmaiden: Inspired by ‘The Fairy Maiden’, a traditional tale collected in Legendary Stories of Wales, by E. M. Wilkie. George Harrap & Co., 1934.

  The Guardian Black Dog: Inspired by a passage in My Solitary Life, p. 188, by Augustus Hare, n.d., n.p.

  The Unseelie Black Dog: Inspired by the traditional tale ‘The Mauthe Doog of Peel Castle’, collected in Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, with notes and introduction by Sir Walter Scott. Edited by T. F. Henderson. Oliver & Boyd, Edinburgh, 1932.

  The Battle of Evernight

  Book Three of the Bitterbynde Trilogy

  Cecilia Dart-Thornton

  THE STORY SO FAR

  This is the third book in The Bitterbynde trilogy. Book I, The Ill Made Mute, told of a mute, scarred amnesiac who led a life of drudgery in Isse Tower, a House of the Stormriders. Stormriders, otherwise known as Relayers, are messengers of high status. They ‘ride sky’ on winged steeds called eotaurs, and their many towers are strewn across the empire of Erith, in the world called Aia.

  Sildron, the most valuable of metals in this empire, has the property of repelling the ground, thus providing any object with lift. This metal is used to make the shoes of the Skyhorses and in the building of Windships to sail the skies. Only the metal andalum can nullify the effect of sildron.

  Erith is randomly visited by a strange phenomenon known as ‘the shang’, or ‘the unstorm’; a shadowy, charged wind that brought a dim ringing of bells and a sudden springing of tiny points of coloured light. When this anomaly sweeps over the land, humans have to cover their heads with their taltries—hoods lined with a mesh of a third metal, talium. Talium prevents human passions from spilling out through the skull. At times of the unstorm, this is important, because the shang has the ability to catch and replay human dramas. Its presence engenders ‘tableaux’, which are ghostly impressions of past moments of intense passion, played over repeatedly until, over centuries, they fade.

  The world outside Isse Tower is populated not only by mortals but also by immortal creatures called eldritch wights—incarnations wielding the power of gramarye. Some are seelie, benevolent towards mankind, while others are unseelie and dangerous.

  The drudge escaped from Isse Tower and set out to seek a name, a past and a cure for the facial deformities. Befriended by an Ertish adventurer named Sianadh, who named her ‘Imrhien’, she learned that her yellow hair indicated she came of the blood of the Talith people, a once-great race that had dwindled to the brink of extinction. Together, the pair sought and found a treasure-trove in a cave under a remote place called Waterstair. Taking some of the money and valuables with them, they journeyed to the city of Gilvaris Tarv. There they were sheltered by Sianadh’s sister, the carlin Ethlinn, who had three children: Diarmid, Liam and Muirne. A city wizard, Korguth, tried unsuccessfully to heal Imrhien’s deformities. To Sianadh’s rage, the wizard’s incompetent meddling left he
r worse off than before. Later, in the marketplace, Imrhien bought freedom for a seelie waterhorse. Her golden hair was accidentally revealed for an instant, attracting a disturbing glance from a suspicious-looking passer-by.

  After Sianadh had departed from the city, bent on retrieving more riches from Waterstair, Imrhien and Muirne were taken prisoner by a band of villians led by a man named Scalzo. Upon their rescue they learned of the deaths of Liam and Sianadh. Scalzo and his henchmen were to blame.

  Imrhien promised Ethlinn she would reveal the location of Waterstair’s treasure only to the King-Emperor. With this intention, she joined Muirne and Diarmid, and travelled to distant Caermelor, the Royal City. Along their way through a wilderness of peril and beauty, Imrhien and Diarmid accidentally became separated from their fellow travellers, including Muirne. Later they met Thorn, a handsome ranger of the Dainnan knighthood whose courage and skill were matchless, and Imrhien fell victim to love.

  After many adventures, followed by a sojourn in Rosedale with Silken Janet and her father, these three wanderers rediscovered Muirne, safe and well. Muirne departed with her brother Diarmid to join the King-Emperor’s armed forces. Recruits were in demand, because rebel barbarians and unseelie wights were mustering in the northern land of Namarre, and it seemed war was brewing in Erith.

  Imrhien’s goal was to seek a cure from the one-eyed carlin, Maeve, before continuing on to Caermelor. At her final parting from Thorn she was distraught. To her amazement, he kissed her at the last moment.

  At last, in the village of White Down Rory, Imrhien’s facial disfigurements were healed. With the cure, she regained the power of speech.

  Two of her goals had been achieved. She now had a name and a face, but still, no memory of her past.

  At the opening of Book II, The Lady of the Sorrows, Imrhien realised that Maeve’s cottage was being watched and decided to leave secretly, in disguise. With black-dyed hair, gorgeous new clothes, a fake identity and a new name—Lady Rohain Tarrenys of the Sorrow Islands—Imrhien arrived at Caermelor Palace.

  There she informed Duke of Roxburgh, Tamlain Conmor, and the Royal Bard, Thomas Rhymer, of the treasure under Waterstair. The magnificent trove became the property of the Crown and Rohain was richly rewarded for her part in its discovery. She was given jewels, an estate, the title of ‘Baroness’ and the services of a maid named Viviana Wellesley.

  Rohain had to remain at Court until she gained an audience with the King-Emperor. The sovereign, however, was busy with preparations for conflict with the barbarian rebels of northern Namarre. Serious trouble was brewing there, and it was feared that the Empire itself was in danger of being attacked and overrun.

  The maidservant Viviana turned out to be a friend and ally, and Thomas Rhymer and the wife of Tamlain Conmor, Alys, watched over Rohain. They told her tales of the Faêran, the race of powerful immortals who long ago used to walk the lands of Erith. Another courtier, Dianella, the niece of the Royal Wizard, Sargoth, also appeared to befriend the newcomer.

  To Rohain’s delight, she discovered that her friend Sianadh had escaped death. She told him about her amnesia, and he advocated returning to Isse Tower in a bid to find out more about her origins. But spiteful Dianella discovered Rohain’s identity was faked, and told her to abandon her wealth and leave Court forever, or face the broadcasting of her duplicity. Taking Sianadh’s advice, Rohain departed for Isse Tower, accompanied by Viviana.

  At the Seventh House of the Stormriders, all that Rohain could learn was that the deformed servant she had once been was found near Huntingtowers, a frightening place inhabited by the Wild Hunt. Rohain set out for Huntingtowers, but her journey was cut short. On returning to Isse Tower, she was reunited with Thorn, only to discover that he in truth held a higher status than she could have imagined.

  She returned to Caermelor Palace at Thorn’s side. Fearful lest her cup of happiness should break, Rohain concealed from him the fact that she had no memory of her past life before Isse Tower. When her lover had to depart for the conflict in the north, he left her in the safest possible place—the Royal Isle of Tamhania. Before they parted, he gave her a golden leaf-ring as a token.

  Tamhania was guarded by enchantments that made it inviolable to unseelie forces. During a violent storm Rohain was tricked into kindling the great Beacon that opened safe passage into the harbour. She unwittingly allowed unseelie entities to breach the security of the island. Soon afterwards, the destruction of Tamhania commenced, and Rohain fled over the sea with her friends. Many boats were lost: the rest were torn from one another.

  Rohain found herself washed up on a remote shore not far from Huntingtowers, along with Viviana and young Caitri. Knowing she faced great peril, Rohain decided to assume yet another identity, and took the name ‘Tahquil’. Using boiled tree-bark, Viviana dyed Tahquil’s hair brown. Through the cindery air, still filled with the ashes of Tamhania’s volcanic destruction, the companions travelled to the caldera of Huntingtowers. On the outskirts of the caldera, Tahquil found a gold bracelet. The sight of it triggered memories …

  She recalled a time long past, in the land of Avlantia, when the city of Hythe Mellyn had been purged of a plague of rats by a mysterious Piper, who had snared the rodents with his enchanting music. The city had not paid the Piper his due, so in return he stole away the children of Hythe Mellyn, leading them under Hob’s Hill.

  One child alone had not answered the Piper’s call. Ashalind na Pendran had had an injured leg and had been unable to follow. As she grew up in the city of sorrow, she sought constantly for a way into the Piper’s realm. Easgathair, one of the Faêran—the immortal race who walked of yore in Erith—took pity on her, and described a way to penetrate Hob’s Hill. Once inside, Ashalind was brought before the Crown Prince of the Faêran, Morragan, the Raven Prince. Clever Ashalind was able to answer three questions with which the Prince challenged her. In return, he permitted the children to return to the world of mortals.

  However, the relinquished children began to pine and languish. A profound longing for the Fair Realm had gripped them, a deadly yearning known as the Langothe. The wizards of Avlantia declared that there was no known cure. In desperation, Ashalind called on Easgathair to allow the children to pass back into the Fair Realm, this time with their families, so that the longing would leave them, allowing them to survive. Easgathair granted her request. He also announced that the Gates between the Realm of the Faêran and the lands of mortals would soon close forever.

  On the Day of the Closing, the citizens of Hythe Mellyn deserted their homes and rode into the Fair Realm. Just before the Gates swung shut, Ashalind discovered that there was in fact a cure for the Langothe, of which the wizards had been unaware. She decided to return to Erith. Due to a last-minute skirmish between Prince Morragan and his brother Angavar, both members of the Faêran Royal Family were locked out of the Fair Realm along with their respective retinues. They were forever exiled to the world of mortals. However, Ashalind had already slipped into a traverse that was known as the Gate of Oblivion’s Kiss because of the condition, or bitterbynde, it imposed on all who entered it.

  By the time she-of-many-names emerged, a millennium had elapsed in Erith. Through many trials she managed to make her way to Huntingtowers, where, on the haunted slopes of the caldera, she lost her golden hair, her voice and her memories.

  The Gate’s bitterbynde had come upon her.

  1

  KHAZATHDAUR

  The Masts of Shadow

  Pale rings of smoke come floating through the trees,

  Clear voices thread like silver on the breeze,

  And as I look towards the west I grieve,

  For in my heart, I’m crying out to leave.

  MADE BY LLEWELL, SONGMAKER OF AURALONDE

  The rain was without beginning and without end. It pattered on incessantly, a drumming of impatient fingers. There was only the sound of the rain and the rasp of breathing while the girl in the cave, mute, amnesiac, shorn, and wasted, crawled away
from the brink of the mine-shaft.

  She was alone, with no concept of her own identity, no memory of how she had come to this place. In subterranean darkness she moved sightlessly, until, reaching a small opening, she tumbled out among javelins of rain. Over levels of harsh stone and through dripping claws of vegetation she drove herself on limbs emaciated by weeks of the Langothe, days of starvation in the wilderness and lack of appetite for the food of Erith after the sight and fragrance of Faêran fare. Sometimes she slept momentarily, or perhaps lost consciousness.

  Pleasantly, even the Langothe had been forgotten, then.

  With stiffening limbs she moved slowly through the mud and wet stone of the abandoned mines, oblivious of their beauties or horrors, blind to obstacles that tore at her. Reaching level ground, she rose onto trembling legs and walked, an action her limbs seemed to remember by some instinct of their own.

  The little dog was gone. The girl had lain a long time underground after the cave-in, at whiles licking at water droplets that oozed from the rock. Buried alive, she was presumed dead. The Hunt had been abandoned because the hunters had not known who she was, believing her to be merely some foolish spy, some unlucky wanderer or thief, now punished by death beneath the rock fall. Yet, she had survived, whether due to the Lady Nimriel’s mysterious gift or some inherent strength, or something else, unfathomable.

 

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