The Bellringer

by William Timothy Murray

  Then something caught her eye. Stopping, she saw it was floating just against the bank, a wicker basket, caught by a root on the green ribbon that was tied to its handle. She made her way to it, cautiously looking around before examining it. In the basket was a cake of soap, a washcloth, a small bottle of sweet oil, a lady's comb and brush, and a small looking-glass. On the very bottom was a neatly folded towel. She picked up the looking-glass, which was set into a plate of dark wood with a white ivory handle, and looked at her face for the first time that she could ever remember. For a blink of time, she thought she saw her mother looking back at her from the glass, and she gulped aloud as tears sprang to her eyes. She barely remembered her mother or her father, but had some sense of powerful kindness and caring that still came from the grave whenever she thought of them. She stared for a long time, watching the water drip from her hair to mingle with the silent tears from her eyes. Soon she was fascinated with the looking-glass, and with it she studied the shape of her nose from many angles and stared close to the glass to examine the color of her amber eyes. At last, she noticed dark smudges on her temple and another just above her right eye. Picking up the bar of soap, she held it to her nose. Nothing ever smelled anything so sweet and wonderful, she thought, inhaling its fragrance with her eyes closed. Almost delicious enough to eat, too. Vague memories stirred, mysterious, long tables draped with linen, with flashing silver and flickering candles.

  Suddenly she put the soap and the looking-glass back into the basket and crawled up the bank.

  "Whar ye at?" she cried out, looking for Ullin. She saw him in the distance, reclining against the same tree as before, just as asleep as he had been when she had first stalked him. After a moment, she slid back down the bank into the water and unfastened the ribbon from the root. She floated it upstream just a few yards to a little cove sheltered on three sides by thick brambles. Here, a small stream trickled down over the rocks. Crawling out, she took her clothes off and set them out to dry, then slipped back into the water. For the next hour and more, she bathed. With joyous care, she washed every inch of her body, scrubbing her hair and then meticulously combing out the tangles. She used the washcloth sparingly, it being so fine, and when she was done bathing, she climbed out onto the sunny rocks and wrapped herself in the towel. She took out the looking-glass and alternated combing and brushing her hair, learning how each worked and watching her slow transformation with the glass. Sometimes, as she held the looking-glass and combed, she had again the vision of her mother, and she found herself humming, at first, then softly singing a children's song.

  "Pluck a posy red and blue, with ivy ribbon tie

  A thimble fill with ivory spoon Lady Luna's dew.

  Purple wine in golden cup give to the noonday sun,

  Seven suitors soon will come, yer hand an' heart to woo."

  She put on her clothes and carefully placed everything back into the basket, hiding it in the bushes. When she was satisfied with that, she made her way out from the brambles and back into the clearing. By now it was late afternoon, yet Ullin still slept under the tree. Walking carefully toward him—for she had no desire to be snared again—she tried to screw up her anger at him. But she knew he had left those lovely things for her to find. Whether intoxicated by her cleanliness, or simply past caring, she could not work up much in the way of ire and passed over several good looking clods of dirt that would have made very suitable missiles. At last she stood right before him, looking at the scrolls and writing stuff scattered about him, and the small book that rested open beside him. He opened his eyes.

  "Hello. What is your name?" he asked, yawning. "And where did you come from?"

  "I live over yonder a ways off. Me name is Sheila."

  "Sheila? Why, I must tell you, there was an imp here just awhile ago that had stolen your name and was doing the most vile and vicious things with it," Ullin said seriously. Before she could answer, he went on. "Only, it looked nothing like you, oh no! Its hair was all matted and tangled, and its face was covered with soot and dirt, and it screamed and screamed when I trapped it. I'm sure it was about to do all manner of bad things when I caught it."

  "Oh?" Sheila began to smile.

  "Oh, yes. And never could it have a smile as lovely as yours, my dear!"

  "Then what happened?" she asked, playing along and putting her hands on her waist and cocking her head.

  "Why I threw it into the river!"

  "Ye did?"

  "Yes, I did. And that made it so mad and furious (you know imps hate water!) that it blew up to the size of a barrel and popped. POOF! Sending its head flying across the river, its arms whirling through the sky, and the rest of it melting away into the river. I ran away from there as fast as my feet could carry me, I can tell you! But it must have thrown a spell at me at the last moment, for no sooner than I made it back here to grab my things than a deep sleep came over me. Say, you are not a princess are you?"

  "Me? Naw, I don't think so."

  "Well, they say only a princess can break the sleep-charm of an imp, and I just thought you must be one. A princess, that is."

  "Yer just makin' all this up!"

  "Are you sure that you are not a princess?" Ullin said, eyeing her seriously. "You look like you might be a princess in disguise."

  "I'm just me. Right here on the ground, silly!"

  Ullin continued to give her a serious look, then his eyebrows rose in an expression of realization.

  "Ah-h! I get it. Right! You are a princess, but you don't want anyone to know it! Just so!" Ullin nodded knowingly to her and winked and touched his nose with a finger. "I won't tell a soul. I promise. I won't mention to anyone anything about the imp, or how I tossed it into the river, or how it laid a sleep-charm on me just as it exploded, or how I was rescued from the sleep-charm by a beautiful princess who happened to be passing by. I won't say any of that, or anything of the sort."

  And, apparently, he never had.

  Chapter 18

  Arrows and Patrols

  "...and I'd be interested if you have any notions as to how you might want to begin our training."

  Ullin's eyes were deep pools of sunlit green, looking at Sheila expectantly. She was smiling absently, then she shook herself.

  "Pardon me? Oh! Yes. I do. And it may be best if I gave a little demonstration first. To the whole group, that is. After that, maybe split up into smaller groups for lessons."

  "That sounds good. We gather tomorrow at noon. Can you be ready by then?"

  "Yes, if I can come early to prepare."

  "As early as you wish!" Ullin stood from his desk and reached out his hand, a gesture not often shared with women. Sheila shook his hand awkwardly as he gave a quick bow. "Then I'll see you and Robby tomorrow!"

  "Thank you," she said, meaning more than she could say.

  "Thank you!" said Ullin.

  • • •

  On the walk home, Sheila asked Robby about Ullin.

  "I guess I don't really know all that much about him," Robby admitted. "I think he and Ashlord have known each other for a long time. He's my mother's nephew. I haven't had a chance to ask Ullin about it, but I don't think he's been home in quite a long while."

  "Where's home to him?"

  "Well, from what I can piece together, my mother's family came from the West some time back. My mother was only a little girl, and Ullin was not yet born, I expect. She doesn't talk much about it, and until recently she rarely told me anything about her people. They have lands somewhere south of here, where Ullin was born."

  "Tallinvale?"

  "Yes, that's the place."

  "I think I've heard Ashlord mention it."

  "Hm. Well, my grandfather is very old, apparently, and by every hint I've gotten he is a very stern man. I gather he's not too happy with his daughter marrying beneath her. In fact, I think she is sort of banished from him. My mother did let it drop once that her father could never be pleased by his two sons. They are dead, now. And Ullin, only child of my moth
er's youngest brother, is the only male left in that line."

  "Yet he is a Kingsman. Of Duinnor."

  "Yes, made to serve under the ancient code of the Named Houses. But I think he does so willingly."

  "I've met never anyone like him," Sheila uttered, immediately regretting the tone of admiration in her voice. "I mean, he does seem different."

  "Oh, he's a handsome fella, if that's what you mean," Robby agreed. "In a rough sort of way."

  "Yes, there's that," she nodded. "And something else, too. A kind of sadness, I think."

  "Perhaps."

  "I think he has changed," she went on. "That is, since I last remember him, years ago."

  "Yes, I think so. The scar on his head. His beard is thicker, I think. And, well, the weariness," Robby agreed.

  "Is he Elifaen? Like your mother?"

  "Oh? No. His mother was not Elifaen."

  When they walked into the store, Robby and Sheila were heartily greeted by his parents, who both commented on Robby's outfit and on how well Sheila looked and how they had missed her and were glad for her to be back. She was a bit embarrassed by the attention, but Mirabella soon put her at ease. Robby went immediately upstairs and changed clothes and went back downstairs to help with the store. Mirabella whisked Sheila away, and, for the rest of the afternoon, the two could be heard laughing and chattering on and on about this and that.

  Business was steady all the afternoon, with folks coming and going, many strangers entering to look for supplies needed for their wagons or camp kitchens or to make repairs to their equipment before the festival began. Robby heard many different accents, from the coastlands and seaways, from the mountains and foothills, and some, Robby thought, much like that of Thurdun of the far western realm of Vanara. Several times, Robby and his father stopped what they were doing and stood outside on the porch to watch carnival wagons roll by. One of the wagons was pulled by magnificent ponies, and on the flatbed of the wagon was a troupe of acrobats. As the wagon rolled past, they slowly balanced themselves atop one another in various patterns and contorted themselves amazingly while juggling a crazy assortment of knives, dishes, eggs, burning candles, and small animals, and never once dropping a single thing.

  Later, after the store closed, they all sat down to a rather jolly meal. Sheila had changed into a dress and was looking happy. While they ate, they talked of the upcoming festival, the new militia and its members, of the prowlers and the changing of the locks on the doors, and the new crossbars that Mr. Ribbon had installed. They laughed when Robby told them about jumping over the ditch with Anerath, and the ladies were impressed, he thought, at his riding prowess. Conversation went from subject to subject, from store to Passdale, and from wine to weather. Robby at last yawned broadly as he helped clear away the dishes.

  "Oh! I suppose last night is finally catching up with me."

  "Me, too," Mr. Ribbon said, trying to suppress a yawn. "An' I've an early day of it, so I'd better be off to bed."

  Robby followed his father's example and said his good nights, and left the ladies to their own soft chatter. Soon he had bathed and was lying in his bed, his hands behind his head on the pillow as he gazed over his feet and out through the window across the room. There, in the strong breeze, the upper boughs of nearby trees swayed in front of the stars.

  He considered lighting his lamp and studying more of the books he had borrowed recently. But the movement of the light and shadow, and the coolness of the air through the window, lulled him toward peaceful sleep. He did not fight it, since it had been such a good day, and he was content. After a time, sleep slowly closed his eyes.

  Long after all of the lights in the house were out, and all its occupants were fast asleep, after the stars dimmed and night-time began to yield to a coming morning, something stirred at Robby's window. An observer might have thought a leaf had fluttered onto the sill, so small and insignificant a shadow it was. It remained there for a long while, rustling just a little, then sprang into the room, landing on the foot-rail of Robby's bed. It perched there for a moment, turning its head nearly all the way around to examine every aspect of the room, then it flew back to the window sill. Every few minutes it would fly off, only to return shortly, and this it repeated throughout the rest of the night until dawn came and those in the house began to stir, when it flew away and did not return.

  • • •

  Ullin led the Passdale Militia out along one edge of a large grassy field shortly after noon on the next day. It was a cool day, but they had marched at quick pace from the Common House and so all were warmed up, especially since they carried swords and shields, lances and backpacks, with water and some little food. Indeed, many were sweating in the full sun. Across the long grassy field, over a hundred yards away, stood Sheila, bow in hand and several buckets of arrows on the ground beside her. About twenty yards in front and to her right was a lance stuck into the ground with a long strip of white ribbon flying from it.

  "Before you learn how to use the bow, it is well for you to know what a single archer can do. See there across the field, Sheila Pradkin, who will be your instructor," Ullin told them, walking up and down in front of their line. "Strip to your shirts. Cast your arms and surcoats aside, for you will not need them for this exercise. While you do that, I will tell you what we are about. Sheila has one hundred and fifty arrows. They have no tips, only cloth bulbs soaking in buckets of blackberry juice. Your mission is to take down yonder flag and bring it here where we now stand."

  "Oo! A game! Ilikegames!" Ibin cried, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

  "Aye. A game," Ullin said. "You may take only your shield and helmet. If you are painted by her arrows on your shield, you may continue. If she strikes you anywhere upon your body or helmet, you must fall down and remain there until I order you to get up. Do you hear me? If you are carrying the flag, and you are struck by an arrow, you must drop it. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, sir!" Robby shouted along with many others.

  "Very well," Ullin signaled to Sheila. "Then we begin immediately."

  Robby picked up his shield and tightened the chin strap of his helmet. "Who goes first, Commander?"

  Just then, an arrow struck Ullin on his chest, splattering purple juice all over his shirt.

  "Ouch!" he winced. Then he grinned and shook his head. "She's a wonder even at a distance."

  "So how do we go about this, sir?"

  "That is for you to decide," Ullin told them. "Since you did not protect your leader, he is now dead. So he cannot lead or advise you."

  "Aw! That ain't right!"

  "Good grief!"

  Ullin continued to smile and shrug. At last, the members began to accept the situation.

  "Well, why don't we all rush at her. All at once, like?" said someone else. "She can't get us all!"

  "Yeah!"

  "Why, that don't seem fair! All us goin' at her, an' her bein' a girl an' all."

  "Aw, that don't matter none! She's the one with the bow an' arrows, ain't she?"

  "I think we oughta go at her in groups, see? She can't aim in more thin one place at a time."

  Ullin crossed his arms and let them argue for a bit until at last one said, "Well, Commander, can't ye give us any hints?"

  "However seems best to you," he said. "Besides taking orders, sometimes part of soldiering is to figure out things as you come upon them."

  "Well, then," said Billy, "I'm off an' goin'!"

  "Me, too," said Ibin.

  They picked up their shields and strode off confidently into the field.

  "Me, too!"

  "And me!"

  Several paces apart, a group of seven or eight made their way as Robby and the rest watched. They got halfway there before Sheila let fly her first arrow. From where they stood, they saw it soar smoothly up and swiftly downward.

  "Owie!" they heard Billy cry out. "That hurt!"

  He held his shoulder and sat down on the ground, cursing. In quick succession, the others went d
own, too, the last flinging away his shield and running flat out toward the flag before he, too, was oozing purple juice from his thigh.

  "Use your shields," Ullin muttered softly as the next group departed. They fared no better than the first group, however, and Sheila's aim seemed flawless, for not an arrow was flown that did not find its mark.

  "Well, then," said Robby, "that takes care of over half our men. I guess it is time to try something different."

  Under Ullin's watchful eye, Robby gathered the rest of the militia together to talk. Sheila watched them huddle, with Ullin standing off to the side with his arms crossed, observing. After a few moments, two shapes began moving toward her, one just a few yards ahead of the other, each made up of two lines of militiamen. The first line of each group held their shields together in front, low to the ground about five men abreast. Behind these came a second line holding their shields above the first and tilted back. Crouching low behind and beneath these covers, the two groups moved slowly like two terribly drunken turtles whose shells kept coming apart and reforming. She smiled at their plan and saw that the closer they came the better they got at holding together.

  "Keep low!" Robby cried from his place in the second line of the first group. Just then an arrow struck his shield with a SPLAT!, quickly followed by another and another, bouncing harmlessly away.

  "Ouch!" cried out a soldier next to Robby as an arrow made it through the cracks. He fell out and Robby quickly reformed his group. Looking behind, he saw that the following group was still intact, and, farther back, Ullin was grinning broadly at them.