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

by Mark G Heath

  “ I am afraid whatever decided to make a meal out of your cloak made rather a mess of it,” explained the seamstress, “ The entire bottom half had been ripped away.”

  “ Samael was attacked by wolves,” added Kathryn again by way of explanation.

  “ Did they hurt you?” asked Metylda.

  “ Unfortunately yes but thanks to the kindness of Kathryn and her father I will soon be restored to fine health,” answered Thaindire.

  “ Of that I have no doubt, we Aftlainers always have a care for those who arrive here, no matter what the circumstances,” confirmed Metylda as she exchanged a short smile with Kathryn.

  Melissent returned and draped across her arms was a bundle of material. The azure colour made it looks as if she had cut a segment from the evening sky and brought it to him, such was the lushness of the colouring.

  “ We repaired the clasp as well, it had been damaged too,” commented Metylda, “ with a little help from Ansell.”

  “ Ansell?” questioned Thaindire.

  “ Ansell Redway, he’s the smith,” explained Kathryn.

  Melissent let the cloak drape downwards and indicated for Thaindire to present his back to her. She reached up, being somewhat shorter than him and offered the hem of the cloak bearing the clasp. Thaindire took it and felt the metal chain between his fingers as he hooked it in place. He could barely feel the material as it settled over this shoulders and cascaded down to the ground. Oddly however he felt an added layer of warmth as soon as the fabric alighted upon him.

  “ Ahh, exactly right,” remarked Metylda clapping her hands in delight as she looked at the length of the cloak as it reached down just to lightly kiss the floor of the house. Thaindire reached around and grasped at the shimmering material with his right hand, it was breathtakingly light and the colour was exactly correct. He pulled it around further examining for the join marks but he could see none such was the high standard of the needlework that had been applied to the mending of the cloak. He then caught his breath as he observed the base of the cloak and could see that the two women had applied the trim in a deep, midnight blue. The effect was such so as to appear that blue flames were rising at the base of the cloak. Thaindire shook his head in disbelief. The cloak had been torn in half and the bottom half had been lost, how then had they known how to mend it with the blue flames adorning it?

  “ What do you think?” asked Metylda.

  “ It is magnificent, I am truly stunned by how effective your work is,” complimented Thaindire as he continued to swish the material from side to side, marvelling in its lightness and the way it fell into place each time.

  “ Marvellous,” trilled Metylda.

  “ How much do I owe you?” asked Thaindire looking up.

  “ What does Master Thaindire owe us?” asked Metylda of her cousin.

  “ Ten gold marks,” came the prompt reply from the cousin.

  “ Ten gold marks it is,” copied Metylda.

  Thaindire reached to his purse and handed over the coins to the outstretched hand of Metylda. As he did so he noticed that her index finger was not shaped like her other fingers but instead was spindly, like a needle and ended in what was surely a sharp point. She made no attempt to conceal the oddly fashioned digit. It was then that he noticed her thumb was also unusually shaped, taking on the appearance of a thimble. He wondered if it was just a similarly coloured, fleshy apparatus which she was wearing but there was no break in the colour and when her hand closed on the coins he could see the thimble ended thumb most clearly.

  “ A pleasure,” she smiled. “ I shall just place this somewhere safe. Mistress Kathryn, a word with you, if I might?” continued the elder seamstress as she beckoned for Kathryn to follow her through the door. The pair vanished and Thaindire was left alone with the younger cousin. As he floundered for something to say to banish the silence that engulfed the room, Melissent suddenly stepped forward so she was up close to Thaindire. She leant in conspiratorially talking direct into his ear, her pronounced cheekbone almost touching that of Thaindire.

  “ Nothing will get through that cloak now,” she whispered, “ It will not tear, not part asunder, not yield or dissolve. Lo, dragon breath would not even char it.”

  Thaindire jerked back and turned his head to look directly into her eyes. She held his gaze, turquoise eyes flashing.

  “ Nothing else created in this kingdom has the resilience of your cloak Master Thaindire, think on and use it wisely in your stay here, be aware that the world beyond does not belong,” she added.

  He frowned and was about to ask her what she meant when the central door opened and Metylda and Kathryn re-appeared, the latter holding a bolt of cloth under her arm. Melissent immediately shrank away from Thaindire and sank into her seat, her hands moving to the loom. Within a moment, the pink blur was back and the shivering lengths of coloured silk made their way towards her. She looked up at Thaindire and smiled briefly before engrossing herself in her work once again.

  “ Come on,” urged Kathryn as if sensing some kind of competition from the younger seamstress, “ let’s see if Ilberd has risen yet.”

  “ Good bye,” remarked Metylda as she too settled back at her apparatus and the room hummed to the whir of their work. Thaindire followed Kathryn through the front door and back out to the square closing the door behind him on such an unusual workshop.

  “ Are you pleased with it?” asked Kathryn as she touched the cloak.

  “ The work is impressive. Have they repaired it using spider silk?” queried Thaindire. Kathryn pulled him away from the door and leant in towards him.

  “ They didn’t repair it. They made you a new one. Metylda explained what was left was inferior and they would not lower themselves to work with such mundane material.”

  “ But how in heaven do they work with such a fine material and at such speed too?”

  “ They are blessed. We all are, that’s why we choose to live here, it is a village of expertise, you will soon become accustomed to it, believe me,” explained Kathryn.

  “ Didn’t you see Metylda’s thumb and index finger, they are a needle and thimble,” exclaimed Thaindire.

  “ And? How else are they to work as swiftly as they do? Silly man, you have much to learn if you are to become one of us,” laughed Kathryn.

  “ Become one of you, what do you mean?” challenged Thaindire.

  “ Well, that’s why you are here isn’t it? Why else would my father have brought you? If it were not meant to be he would have left you by the roadside,” she turned away and began walking across the square towards the house of the alchemist. Thaindire stood still unsure of what to make of her remarks. She noticed he was not moving and spun around and jerked her head in the direction of the house. He set off after her, limping across the square as the ache began to intensify in his back. Thandire took her arm again as they crossed the cobbles, again drawing glances from those villagers nearby.

  Thaindire looked ahead at the house, which was partially obscured by the trees, which grew in front of it. He realised that he had a better view of the property from his elevated position in his room, looking through the baring branches rather than from ground level. A thin line of trees grew from where the road met the square and led across in front of four houses, giving them a degree of privacy, before the screen of trees halted halfway across the front of the alchemist’s abode.

  “ There’s no smoke,” he observed nodding at the crooked chimney atop the slate roof.

  “ Hmm, he just might be up preparing,” answered Kathryn as they reached the pathway that led to the front door. Thaindire regarded the house. It contrasted with that of the seamstress cousins, having an air of general neglect about it. The shutters whilst fastened closed did have small holes in them and an adornment of mildew across the wooden slats. Patches of the walls looked like they needed repair and the window ledges were similarly affected. Bushes flanked the pathway but bore no fruit, instead just being tangled and unruly as Kathryn walked up t
he two stone steps and hammered on the wooden door.

  “ Ilberd!” she shouted, “ Are you awake?”

  She rapped on the door again with her fist. Thaindire wondered who would open the door. Would it be the miniature man or was that in fact Ilberd? The thought had only just crossed his mind that it may have been the alchemist he had seen venturing out in the middle of the night.

  “ Ilberd!” hollered Kathryn once again as she pounded on the timber. She stood back expectedly but there was no movement, no sound from within the silent house.

  “ Lazy bugger,” muttered Kathryn under her breath, “ I will catch him or he won't get any more of the cake he likes, the greedy so and so.” she threatened.

  “ What’s Ilberd like?” asked Thaindire seeking to ascertain who it was he had seen.

  “ Miserable, bad-tempered, self-absorbed, take your pick,” replied Kathryn.

  “ No, I meant what does he look like?” pressed Thaindire.

  “ Well he isn’t as handsome as you,” smiled Kathryn suddenly forgetting her frustration at failing to rouse the alchemist and instead spreading her charm towards Thaindire. He gave a wan smile and then winced as a fresh burst of pain leapt from his back and down his right leg. He reached out to the doorframe to steady himself.

  “ Are you alright?” asked Kathryn placing a sympathetic hand on the middle of his back.

  “ We ought to get back to the tavern and add more infusion to the wounds, that is why they are starting to pain you,” she explained. Another spasm shook Thaindire and he reluctantly nodded pushing himself off the doorframe and awkwardly turning to face back to the tavern. Once more Kathryn took his arm and more slowly than before, he hobbled back towards the Last One Inn and the application of more herbal remedy. He needed the injury to heal and promptly. He had much to attend to in this strange village.

  Chapter Seven

  On their return to the tavern Kathryn attended to the changing of his dressings and the application of a fresh poultice. She also fetched him lunch and it was while he was sat eating that she stood at the window.

  “ There we are, he has risen,” she exclaimed, “ there is smoke rising from his chimney. I knew he was in. Give me a couple of marks please, I won’t be long.”

  Thaindire duly obliged handing over the coins and continued with his eating as she departed. He decided to move to the window to see if Kathryn met with success but also to try and catch a glimpse of Ilberd to see if he accorded with the figure he had witnessed the previous night. As he chewed on the meat, he watched Kathryn approach the alchemist’s home. He could see that blue smoke was wisping from the chimney indicating that something other than wood was being burnt within the walls of the ramshackle property. Kathryn hammered on the door and this time there was only a short delay before the door was opened. He could see a figure stood in the doorway, partially obscured by Kathryn but this person was a similar height to the young woman. He could see long wispy white hair sticking out from a balding pate and spectacles sat atop a thin nose. He clearly was not the tiny man. So who was the miniscule human? The pair conversed and then they both entered the house, the door closing behind them. Thaindire wondered what lay within and what experiments the old alchemist engaged in. Whilst in itself alchemy did not use ungodly ways, the existence of one in a village, rather than a town raised his suspicions and moreover the other resident of the house, this small replica of a normal man was clear evidence of unholy activity. Thaindire flexed from side to side, the numbing effect of the poultice having masked the pain sufficiently to enable him to move more readily. Hopefully Kathryn would return successful from her visit to Ilberd so that he could explore more of the village this afternoon and begin to form a map of its layout. He should be adequately mobile to at least circuit the square and ascertain some of its buildings and people.

  Finishing the last of the meat and bread, Thaindire saw Kathryn emerge from the doorway and that she was carrying a range of items in her arms. She called over her shoulder and the door closed. Thaindire watched her cross the square and could see rolls of parchment clasped in her grasp. Excellent, now he could begin to record Aftlain and its unusual inhabitants in readiness for their judgement.

  Kathryn shortly entered the room and lowered her purchases onto the bed. The parchment opened up and revealed that several quills and a bottle of black ink had been wrapped up inside.

  “ Four sheets of parchment, three goose quills, already sharpened and a bottle of pine ink, all for a gold mark,” she smiled handing him two of the coins back, “ Sel-heaven knows what he was doing in there, the place stank of sulphur, I could barely breath and I was only inside for a few moments,” she continued.

  “ So he was more accommodating on this occasion,” observed Thaindire.

  “ Oh yes, he did say that he knew I would be back and wanted rid of me so I didn’t disturb his experiment.”

  “ What was he experimenting with?” asked Thaindire curious to find out more of the alchemist’s undertakings.

  “ Ha, don’t ask me, I haven’t a clue. Its all glass vials, flames and strange smells. Father is adamant the old rascal is brewing his own drink across there, that’s why he never comes into the tavern. If he is, goodness knows what it would do to your insides given all the weird items he hoards in his house. Anyway, that’s you sorted out and you can now make good with your map making can’t you?” she stepped forward and placed a hand against his cheek. Her touch was slight and cool, the softness of the hand felt calming as her fragrance began to wind its way from her to him. She did not move her hand and instead placed her other hand on his chest and gently moved it up and down, looking up at his face.

  “ You should stay out of the cold this afternoon,” she coaxed, “ I will light you a fire and we can stay in here, if you like,” she murmured, slipping her hands around his waist and moving directly against him. Thaindire swallowed, his head began to feel light as her encapsulating scent washed over him and he felt her firm body press up against his. One hand dipped under his tunic and made its way up his back, avoiding the bandages and instead gently scratching at his flesh with her nails. Thaindire heard a sudden gust of wind from outside, the window pane shaking with the force of the gust and the sudden sound gave him chance to step back, gently removing her arms from around him.

  “ I need to map some of the village this afternoon. My back isn’t aching now, since you kindly applied more remedy,” he explained. “ I have lost enough time what with my incapacitation and really ought to press on with the task in hand.”

  Kathryn only looked mildly disappointed.

  “ By all means,” she replied looking up at him her eyes glinting with desire, “ we have plenty of time yet. I will go and give father a hand before he starts complaining. Fare ye well,” she called with a smile and left Thaindire.

  He let out a long breath of relief. That was close. He had felt his desire rising as she had pressed against him and he shamefully admitted that he felt his resistance weakening at the allure of her enticing body and enchanting lips. All that combined with the heady fragrances that she wore would be too much even for the most pious of men. Whilst he was grateful to the young woman for her care of him and general assistance, he was wary that any seduction by her would be a great compromise not only to his stated mission but also to his integrity. Thaindire muttered a short prayer to the One True God to grant him the resolve to overcome her overtures. Another blast of wind assailed the window and dry leaves floated by as Thaindire gathered his new cloak around him and made his way from his lodging room.

  He still moved with a stiffness but the fresh application had enabled him to negotiate the stairs a little quicker than first thing this morning and he alighted on the landing just as a door opened. The man who he had seen that morning emerged from the room although this time he was wearing dark green with a russet cloak, the colours reversed from their first encounter. Once again the man wore expensive looking jewellery and passed Thaindire with a greeting of “ Good afte
rnoon” to which Thaindire responded similarly. He set off after the man who walked at a brisk pace and had soon descended the staircase leaving Thaindire behind. He walked through the bar which now had a number of patrons sat at the tables and a sprinkling of people at the bar, a low murmur of conversation permeating the air.

  Thaindire stepped outside and felt the cold wind against his face. The sky remained grey and unforgiving. Fallen leaves wheeled about in the stiff wind, scattering across the square as the trees swayed. He saw the well-heeled man marching off to the west making for the road which led, as Kathryn had explained, to the church, but Thaindire had decided that he would make his way clockwise around the square and thus turned to his left. He walked along past the windows of the Last One Inn until he reached the end of the tavern. He paused and looked down the alleyway formed between the tavern and the neighbouring house. He could make out some kind of yard at the rear of the inn and beyond that the forest. There did not appear to be the ranked housing on the northern side of the village as there did on the southern side. The neighbouring house was peculiar in design being very narrow and two storeys in height. As he made his way past its front door he observed that it was less wide than a normal door and he would have to turn to the side to gain admittance through that doorway. He stooped to look in through one of the similarly narrow windows but the gloomy interior prevented him from seeing anything noteworthy and he continued. The next house was of a more normal size and then he came to the seamstresses’ home. It was the last house on the northern side and the forest pressed against the rear of the well-built house. He thought of the large spiders clacking away inside creating the spools of silk for the two women to weave with their unnaturally quick hands. They would certainly form a note on his map for there were unnatural crafts at work there, notwithstanding the creation of his supposedly impervious cloak. Thaindire turned so his back was to the spider house and his view of the square was now hidden as an outcrop of trees grew in from behind the house, along its side and across the front effectively concealing the cousins’ house and their neighbour from the square. He looked around the side of the house and noticed that there was a rutted track, only a cart-width wide that ran alongside the seamstress’ dwelling before twisting away eastwards. He wondered where that led to; it was no road, barely a track with just two grooves worn into the ground by the passage of cartwheels, the central part still grassed over. Just then a man came into view, he was pulling a small cart behind him on which Thaindire could see some sacks balanced. The man walked slowly yet methodically as he hauled the cart along the track. He wore the attire of a farmer and Thaindire could see that he was sweating from the exertion of pulling the load along the uneven pathway. The wind whipped at his cloak as he stood watching the man advance, the leaves being stripped from the nearby tress and swirling about him. Thandire waited until the man drew near and caught his gaze. The fellow was in early middle age, well built, no doubt from his repeated manual labour, with brown hair escaping from beneath his hat.