The Fragile Fall At Tallow Bridge (The White Blood Chronicles Book 1)

by Mark G Heath

  Thaindire picked up his tunic and inspected it for damage. There was some tearing of the tunic at the rear of it but it was surprisingly intact considering the bite that he suffered to his back. He reasoned his tunic must have ridden up as he had tried to fight the imp that balanced on his horse’s neck. Thaindire slipped the tunic on and picked up his purse, placing it in his pocket. It still felt weighty enough despite Kathryn’s deduction for the cost of the supplies from the apothecary. Next, he sought out his boots and taking them in hand sat on the bed to try and put them on. Unfortunately he could not flex far enough to slide his riding boots on, each time he leant forward the pain in his back increased and he soon gave up, not wanting to break open the wound. At least he was able to walk, of a fashion and no doubt if he kept moving the stiffness would recede. His thoughts turned to exploring the whereabouts of the tower although he suspected that would necessitate forcing his way through the trees and navigating his way over uneven rising ground. He may have to wait before embarking on this more strenuous activity. No, he would endeavour to explore more of the village before tackling more arduous terrain. Hopefully Kathryn could obtain the quills and so on from Ilberd and he could then begin to formulate a map of this village with the points of significance also recorded.

  “ Good morning,” said Kathryn brightly as she entered the room, again without knocking. No sooner had he heard her words than the scent of freshly cut meadow grass wafted over him. A different day, a different perfume and this was once more a pleasure to inhale.

  “ Good morning,” replied Thaindire still sat on the bed.

  “ I see you have managed to dress yourself. Looks like the infusion is working.”

  “ Yes, I slept well again last night and the pain is receding. It is quite remarkable actually. I thought I would be laid low for longer by the extent of my injuries.”

  “ Well praise be, Alyssia’s concoctions have always been effective.”

  “ So it seems,” conceded Thaindire, “ although I am having some trouble with my boots, I don’t suppose you could help?” he asked.

  “ By all means.” Kathryn darted forward placing the food-laden tray to one side and kneeling before Thaindire. She took his left leg in her hand allowing herself to run her hand up and down his calf before gripping the boot and pulling it on. Thaindire felt a little dizzy as the scent from her washed over him given how close she was. She slid the second boot on and then stood up.

  “ Going somewhere are we?” she asked with an expectant expression on her face.

  “ Yes, I thought trying to walk would ease the stiffness, so I thought I would take a look around the village,” he answered.

  “ Good but don’t over do it, you don’t want to break the seal over your wound,” she cautioned.

  “ I need to change your dressings again but we can do that later since you are dressed anyway. I will come with you if you like?” she offered.

  “ Very well,” replied Thaindire. He doubted he would be able to cover too far so to have the girl alongside him initially would not be too great a hindrance to his observing Aftlain.

  “ Good, we can visit Metylda and pick up your cloak, she is only a few doors away. Why don’t you breakfast and then come down and meet me in the bar of the tavern. Leave the tray and things; I will tidy them up when we return,” she suggested. Thaindire gave a nod and evidently pleased at having secured his company, Kathryn skipped out of the door. Thaindire turned and looked back out of the window, across the roofs and trees. Yes, there it was, the roof of the tower, quite plain now he was used to its location amidst the branches. When he went there he would be doing so alone.

  Having breakfasted well, Thaindire made himself ready to go downstairs and meet the landlord’s daughter. He left his room and found himself on a small landing. There were three other doors, besides his own; all closed which led from the landing. On one wall a tapestry was hung, scarlet in background with a rearing horse as its main subject. The horse was rider less, but was engulfed by a depiction of the moon around it. Thaindire was unaware of any significance behind the image and tentatively made his way to the narrow staircase. Gripping the bannister, he moved slowly down the stairs, having to place both feet on a step before moving onto the next one. The slight downward movement irritated his back and he paused for relief when he reached the next landing. This was larger and he counted eight doors leading from it. Again all of them closed, but he identified which belonged to Kathryn with it being beneath his room. He was curious to see inside of it, especially as he knew she would be in the bar below, but he lacked the agility to make a prompt escape if disturbed and would have to leave such covert exploring until later. He did however, venture over to the door and the pleasant smell of her scents was perceptible even from outside.

  As he turned away from the door, he heard another door open and onto the landing stepped a smaller man dressed in russet and dark green. His clothing denoted some degree of wealth and he carried a fine-looking hat in his hand. The man had short-cropped brown hair and Thaindire noticed a large silver hooped earring in his left ear. Several of his fingers bore rings, the gemstones glinting in the lantern light, which lit the landing.

  “ Good morning,” greeted the man as he passed Thaindire.

  “ Good morning,” responded Thaindire as he watched the stranger descend the stairs and disappear from view. Thaindire’s descent was far slower as he made his way down the two-stage staircase. He could hear sounds of activity as he finally emerged from the stairs into the main area of the tavern.

  To his right was an open seating area, which was awash with tables and chairs. The far wall held a large fireplace where he observed Thomas Dromgoole stacking cut logs beside it. He had his back to Thaindire as he methodically placed the dried out wood in a pile. Above the fireplace was a mirror, which resulted in the room looking even larger. He could see the black chandelier reflected in it, a few of its many candles already lit. A number of windows, lead surrounding the smaller frames of glass ran along the other wall until they reached the door. A sturdy looking door with a small window in it was closed. A heavy handle and lock apparent. Thaindire doubted if the tiny man he had seen last night could have opened that portal without assistance.

  Across from Thaindire was the bar. A number of stools were placed before it and behind it he could see the various kegs of ale balanced on trestles. The smell of ale pervaded and he found himself running his tongue over his lips. Benjamin Dromgoole was busy wiping down then smooth, wooden top of the bar before he looked up and noticed Thaindire.

  “ Well Master Thaindire, the heavens be praised, you are up on your feet,” he remarked.

  “ I am, thanks to you and your daughter,” replied Thaindire.

  “ Oh think nothing of it,” answered the publican. “ Er, I am not serving just yet but if you want to wait,” he commented.

  “ Ah no, I am fine, thank you. I was due to meet your daughter here, she said she would show me the village,” explained Thaindire.

  “ Katie!” bellowed Dromgoole, “ Master Thaindire is waiting for you.”

  His daughter appeared from a doorway away to the left. Thaindire noticed that she had changed from the attire that she had been wearing when she served him breakfast. She wore a long dress coloured a light green and about her shoulders was a dark green cloak. In keeping with her usual dress style, it clung in a fitted fashion to her upper half, cupping her ample breasts and affording an enticing view of cleavage, before gripping down over her flat stomach to her slender waist and then out over her hips and down to the ground. Thaindire noticed the slash in the fabric either side so that when she walked, a cutaway revealed the toned calves and thighs beneath. Thaindire glanced up and saw that Dromgoole had caught him regarding his daughter. The landlord gave a small smile before turning to the keg behind him. Kathryn approached and ushered Thaindire towards the door.

  The pair stepped out onto the village square. Thaindire took a deep breath of the fresh air, revelling in its swe
et tang. Having been tucked away in the stuffy room he was glad of the cold air as he took in deep lungfuls. He gave a slight shiver having left the relative warmth of the tavern.

  “ The seamstress is this way,” indicated Kathryn as she took Thaindire’s arm. “ She is just three doors away.” Thaindire looked across the square and was aware that the other villagers were all watching him and Kathryn keenly; having halted whatever chores they were attending to. A group of ducks quacked as they waddled past the duo, a young boy egging the ducks on with the aid of a stick. Thaindire glanced across to the building from which the little man had appeared. He saw no sign of activity, the windows, in contrast to the houses around it, were shuttered.

  “ Who lives over there?” he asked pointing at the closed house.

  “ Oh Ilberd lives there, the alchemist. It won’t be long before some pongy smoke will start billowing out of his chimney. Once it does I am going to hammer on his door for your writing items. He can’t pretend he isn’t there when he is filling the air with a funny smell,” Kathryn explained.

  “ An alchemist?” queried Thaindire as he slowly walked besides Kathryn, actually welcome of her arm to hold onto.

  “ Yes, keeps himself to himself, he is a very clever man, according to my father,” continued Kathryn.

  “ Does he live there on his own?” asked Thaindire.

  “ Yes he does. Why? Are you thinking of moving in with him? You’d better chop off your nose if you are thinking of doing that,” she grinned.

  “ No, I just wondered if he had an apprentice.”

  “ Not a chance, he is too cantankerous for that. I will take you over in a while if you aren’t too tired, but first we must see Mistresses Metylda and Melissent,” announced his guide as they halted outside a well-appointed house. Two tubs stood either side of the door and some kind of red flower adorned them. There was a polished knocker set in the centre of the door but Kathryn ignored this, instead just pushing the door open and stepping over the threshold. Thaindire followed, his eyes struggling to adjust as he stepped from the daylight into the gloom of the interior.

  He noticed the smell of material, of cloth and flaxen. It hung in the air; it was clean in nature, almost as if laundry was being attended to, hung up to dry within the dwelling. Kathryn and Thaindire stood in a medium-sized room with a clear walkway ahead of them leading to a closed door. The wall, which the door was set into, was hung with some of the most breathtaking tapestries that Thaindire had ever seen. The lighting in the room was not particularly bright, being a combination of two lanterns and the daylight from the windows either side of the door through which they had entered. Notwithstanding the low light, Thaindire marvelled at how the tapestries shone. The central one showed a knight stood in full battle armour, the edges of which seemed to shine silver. He leant on a two-handed sword, which was bloodied, and the scarlet trickles of blood similarly gleamed as if fresh and real. The other tapestries depicted an archer, a stag rutting with an opponent and a lady sat upon a throne. He did not know the significance of what was portrayed only that he had never seen such detailed and colourful creations in Lancester or indeed anywhere on his travels.

  “ Marvellous aren’t they?” commented Kathryn as she noticed him drinking in the majesty of the tapestries.

  “ Yes, they are truly magnificent. What do they signify?” he responded.

  “ Oh, I don't know, I just think they look wonderful,” said Kathryn.

  Thaindire soon forgot however about the brilliance of the weavings as he panned his gaze about the room. At the same level of height as the wall hangings he saw what he at first thought were windows, dirty windows at that, as several panes of glass were set into the wall, wooden frames around them. He counted eight in all along the wall. As he looked closer he was surprised to see that within each glass pane he could see a huge spider. His skin tingled at the sight of the massive arachnids, which were easily as big as his torso, black and hairy. He could see their eyes glint in the lantern light as they sat poised within their place of holding. Their legs moved systematically as from beneath them a strand of silk emerged, white and glistening. Thaindire’s eyes travelled along the length of silk as it stretched from where the spider was situated until it passed beneath a large glass jar, which was inverted. Placed beneath the jar was some kind of optic, which evidently regulated the flow of the liquid, kept within the jar. The first jar contained a scintillating scarlet coloured liquid, the next an effervescent green like that upon a peacock feather. Thaindire looked on, his mouth falling open as he regarded the demijohns and their striking coloured contents. A brilliant yellow, brighter than sunlight, a deep orange which had a strange metallic hue to it, then azure and there was no doubt in his mind that the colour was the exact replica of the colour of his cloak. On went the colours, a lily white which had traces of sparkling light within it, midnight blue, Toranic purple. Thaindire wheeled round and saw that the opposite wall was similar in design. Eight spiders, eight large jars of eye-opening colours and the strands of silk leading between the two.

  From the jars the silk lead again, this time matching the colour of the content of the jar from which it flowed from. These strands of silk jerked and twitched as they all lead to one point. The rainbow of silk fanned inwards to where a seated figure was operating some kind of loom. There was a low whirring noise as the shuttle moved backwards and forwards. A spinning wheel was beside the loom and on the other side of the seated figure a small table which bore the various tools of a seamstress. Thaindire watched in awe as the figure sat on the right hand side of the room worked the loom. Her hands darted backwards and forwards, gliding with a speed, which made them difficult to distinguish, just a blue or pink and the corresponding swish of her sleeve. Sat in the chair was a slight woman, older than Thaindire and possibly on the cusp of middle age. She had fading blonde hair, which was pinned up in a tidy bun, enabling her proud face to be easily seen. She had delicate ears, which were studded with bejewelled earrings. Her eyebrows were dark and beneath them two intense blue eyes stared at the work in progress. She was clad in a dress of purple with a golden tie about the waist. Her right foot tapped a rhythm as she continued with her work, not acknowledging their entrance.

  Instinctively Thaindire looked across to the left and there seated with the same machinery about her was a younger woman, a few years older than Kathryn. She also wore her hair in a bun, but it was strawberry-blonde in colour. Her features were sharper than that of the first seamstress but her eyes, also blue, were just as intent on remaining on her fast-moving hands. Her frame was tiny and was accentuated by a close-fitting dress of a mid yellow colour, a sapphire-coloured tie, similar in design to that of the other lady, about her waist. Without warning the pair halted their work and the whirr of the looms and wheels abated. Thaindire was certain he could hear the clacking of the spiders from behind their glass.

  “ Good day to you Mistress Kathryn,” announced the elder lady as she rose from her seat.

  “ And to you Mistress Metylda. Mistress Melissent,” acknowledged Kathryn of the younger lady who had remained seated. She did not speak.

  “ This is Master Thaindire,” declared Kathryn, “ Guest to our village of just two days and recipient of the foul greeting of the wolves of the forest,” explained the young woman.

  “ Good day Master Thaindire, how do you fare?” asked Metylda.

  “ Far better than when I first arrived, thank you,” responded Thaindire.

  “ I am Metylda Meverel and this,” she raised a dainty hand in the direction of the still-seated lady, “ is my cousin Meslissent Priestcote.”

  “ I am pleased to make your acquaintances,” said Thaindire politely with a slight bow in each of their directions.

  Thaindire was still marvelling at the scene within the house, which was not like any other tailor or seamstress he had ever encountered. He kept glancing at the spiders, which had now stopped moving, as if in automatic response to the cessation of the work of the two women. He re
alised that everyone had fallen silent.

  “ Ah, Kathryn tells me that you have kindly endeavoured to repair my cloak,” began Thaindire. Before he could say more Melissent stood and interrupted him.

  “ It is no endeavour Master Thaindire. We do not endeavour here. We create, we succeed, we excel.”

  “ Now, now cousin, Master Thaindire merely chose the wrong word, he meant no sleight by it, did you?” soothed Metylda smiling at him.

  “ Of course not, my apologies,” murmured Thaindire.

  “ Would you kindly fetch Master Thaindire’s cloak please?” asked Metylda of her cousin. Melissent nodded and made her towards the door beneath the tapestries. Thaindire noticed that she unlocked the door with a key taken from a pocket he had not seen in the cut of the dress.