The Fragile Fall At Tallow Bridge (The White Blood Chronicles Book 1) (2 page)

              After a short time, the treetops vanished from sight and instead the sky and the whitish-grey clouds filled Thaindire’s gaze. His movement changed also and rather than being shaken from side to side in a lolloping manner, he was being jigged up and down. The sensation was most uncomfortable as he bounced, his back and shoulder protesting with each rapid fall of the cart. Thankfully the movement lasted barely a minute before the cart halted, the wooden frame and wheels making their last noises as the apparatus settled to a stop. Thaindire glanced to his left and he could see the upper storey of a building overlooking him. Glazed windows and a wooden exterior. There appeared to be some kind of sign hanging from near the apex of the roof but he was unable from his angle to make out what it denoted. Surely this was not the residence of those infernal creatures?

Thaindire waited as the cart shook once, as if some considerable weight had left it. He strained his hearing to try and ascertain what was happening. There came the sound of clucking or at least he thought so and it sounded like voices although he could not discern any individual words. So far, the cruel hiss and sinister growls of the imps was absent. He felt something touch both his booted ankles firmly and this caused him to lift his head.

“ Ah, so you’re awake?” commented the man who was stood at the end of the cart, his large hands gripping Thaindire’s ankles. The man was both tall and broad.

“ I thought I might have to throw a pail of water over you,” he continued blinking his round eyes set in an open, flat face. The stranger stood regarding Thaindire for a moment, his thinning grey hair lifting in the breeze. He kept his hands cupped around Thaindire’s ankles and it was evident that the man was used to hefting matters of weight around, judging by the size of his forearms, which bore tattoos.

“ Yes, I am awake,” managed Thaindire weakly and he tried to sit up but the shards of pain from his back wound stopped him.

“ Steady there,” cautioned the man, “ you are in no state to go leaping around.” He turned away from Thaindire who slumped back.

“ Ansell!” shouted the man , “Ansell. Lend a hand with this traveller.”

There was a confirmatory shout in reply and after a moment a second man appeared.

“ What? Another one?” he declared on arrival causing the first man to frown at this. He was similar in build to the first man but was bald and those parts of his flesh that were exposed were streaked with sweat and grime. He clambered up onto the cart and stepped over Thaindire, his leather apron wafting over Thaindire’s head as he made his way behind him.

“ He looks like a case for Mistress Thorne,” remarked the man who stood over Thaindire.

“ No, no, he is best off at the inn. We can involve Alyssia if necessary,” remarked his rescuer.

“ Are you sure Ben, he doesn’t look too good to me.”

“ Yes, let’s get him inside so Kathryn can look him over.”

“ If you say so.”

“ I’m afraid this will hurt,” muttered the bald man as he slipped his meaty hands under Thaindire’s armpits as the round-faced man took a firm grip about Thaindire’s ankles. Thaindire gave a cry of pain as the pair lifted him off the cart, he felt a wave of weakness crash over him and momentarily his vision swam. The two men manoeuvred him onto his feet and placed themselves either side of him. They were both strong and Thaindire did not even have to try and walk as between them they carried him from the cart, his feet dragging across cobbled ground. He was aware of a small crowd of people gathered about the cart but he was barely able to lift his head to see their faces, instead his sight falling upon an array of clothing suited to farmers and peasants. With a grunt, the men steered him through a doorway and the smell of hops became markedly stronger.

“ Where’d you find him?” asked Ansell as Thaindire was carried past low tables and chairs towards a staircase.

“ Two miles out of the village. Wolves look to have had him,” replied Thaindire’s rescuer.

“ Were they there when you got to him?”

“ No, but I reckon they must have only just gone, his wounds were right fresh. I guess my coming along must have scared them off.”

“ Not wolves,” murmured Thaindire almost imperceptibly.

“ What did he say?” asked Ansell.

“ He was just groaning, he’s taken a mauling,” came the reply.

“ Aye, that he has. That road will be getting worse with those wolves with winter ahead.”

“ I’ll send for our Kathryn to see to him, those bites need looked at. Probably need something from the apothecary especially for the chunk they took from his back.”

The duo grunted as they made their way up two staircases and onto a small landing from which a number of doors radiated.

“ Stick him in here, at the front,” instructed the rescuer as he shoved the door open revealing a small room furnished with a bed, chair and a fireplace. Pale sunshine shone through the room’s one window, the yellow tinged light falling across the blanketed bed. The men carefully lowered Thaindire onto the bed and lifted his legs up onto it, they positioned him on his side and the pain from his back eased somewhat. He had his back to the window and was able to see towards the doorway.

“ Right fellow, our Kathryn will be here presently to look at those wounds. She will have a care for you. You try not to move,” commented the first man. The pair made their way out of the room.

“ Thanks Ansell, I’ll stand you a drink if you will.”

“ Leave it in the barrel for me Ben, I will drink it this evening, I have work to finish,” replied Ansell.

The door closed behind them and Thaindire was left to stare at the motes of dust swimming in the sunlight, disturbed by the entrance of the three men. He could hear the faint noise of activity from beyond the window. He wondered if a kind-spirited publican had taken him to Aftlain. At the very least he had been rescued and transported to somewhere that bore the hallmarks of being civilised. He closed his eyes allowing the lingering fatigue to wrap around him and drag him into slumber as one thought tumbled through his mind; where was he?

Thaindire woke and immediately he was reminded of his predicament by the tendrils of pain that coiled about his body. He blinked and saw he was staring at a wall. He lay still, gathering his bearings. The sound of a door creaking came from behind him, but he remained unmoving as he heard a female voice speak softly.

“ Is he asleep?”

“I’ll check,” answered a second person, also female.

Thaindire closed his eyes as the sound of somebody crossing the wooden floor became audible.

“ Yes, he is asleep,” confirmed the first voice before the sound of movement came again.

“ See, what did I tell you,” said the first voice.

“ Yes, alright, his hair is completely white, what of it?”

“ His eyes, the brightest blue I have ever seen.”

“ How do you know that? They are shut.”

“ No silly, yesterday, when he arrived. Look at his skin. It's so pale.”

“ Hmm, yes I see what you mean,” conceded the second voice.

“ Absolutely. He is a white blood. I am certain of it.”

“ I think you are right.”

“ Of course I am. Red blood is no good. You know what this means though don’t you?”

“ What?”

“ She will be looking to get her claws into him.”

“ Along with the rest of the village I should wager.”

“ What shall we do then? Before too many others realise.”

“ What are you two doing?” said a third voice in a strident tone. There came the sound of shuffling and issued denials. Thaindire slowly turned in the bed to look across the room. He saw a young woman looking away from the open door way.

“ I’ve told you before not to trouble our guests. If I catch you in here again, I will mark you,” declared the woman. She waited a moment, ensuring that whoever had snuck into his room had departed, before she turned towards Thaindire and entered the room. Stood before him was a young woman in a dark blue and white dress, which had clearly been designed to show off her lithe figure. Her black hair spilled in tresses from a high, dignified forehead, underneath which two blue eyes regarded Thaindire with compassion and concern. She was carrying a tray, which she set down on the seat of the chair, beside the bed and knelt by Thaindire affording him a momentary glimpse of cleavage. She shifted her position so she was able to lean across him and regard his back and the rear of his head. As she did so, her dress brushed against Thaindire’s face and he drank in the delicious scent of strawberries and sandalwood, which emanated from her. He felt her delicate touch on his head and then his shoulder, before meandering down his back, her fingers oddly lingering along his spine, causing him to tingle. He realised that he was now naked beneath the blankets of the bed and he reacted by trying to curl up causing the woman to giggle gently.

Thaindire glanced at his left hand and saw that it was now wrapped in cloth, slight off-white stains marking the coarse material.

“ I’ve put a poultice on your back, shoulder and hand my dear. A tincture would be too much at this stage but you will need one presently, that much is sure,” she remarked moving back to kneel beside him and looking into his eyes.

“ Thank you,” said Thaindire his voice croaking.

“ Poor love, you must be as dry as a desert, here let me,” she added as she picked up a cup and raised it to Thaindire’s mouth. The cold liquid spilled into his mouth and he gulped at it, savouring the taste and effect.

“ Steady, steady,” continued the woman before she mopped a stray drop from his lips and placed the cup back down on the tray.

“ Father said he found you out on the road all chewed up by those wretched wolves. You know they become bolder this time of year and especially once winter arrives. Sometimes they even come into the village, snuffling at the doors and howling in the square. Fair makes me shiver when I am tucked up in bed. Mind you, there must have been a pack of those beasts to best a fine man like you,” she smiled letting her fingers play through the front of his fine white hair, moving a few strands of hair away from his eyes.

“ Anyways, in case you hadn’t guessed I am Kathryn, Ben’s daughter,” she explained and stood up giving a short curtsey and giggling again.

“ I have brought you some broth for you to eat, I will feed it to you as you can barely move, but it needs to cool first. I’ve added some bits from the apothecary on Alyssia’s advices to ease the pain and aid your sleep. We don’t want you trying to run away now do we?” Again Kathryn let out a short delighted giggle.

“ Thank you, Kathryn. Tell me, where am I?” asked Thaindire, his speech less rasping after the drink.

“ You are a guest at the Last One Inn, my father’s tavern,” she answered waving an arm about her as if introducing the building.

“ Which is where?” pressed Thaindire.

“ Why Aftlain, silly, where else were you heading? Didn’t you know that’s where the road led to?”

“ Yes, yes of course, the fall has left me dazed.”

“ The fall?”

“ Yes, I fell from my horse when I was attacked by…..when I was attacked.”

“ Ah, I see. That’ll account for the egg on the back of your head then. I applied a compress to it while you slept but it will need more.” Kathryn commented. She paused, looking Thaindire up and down.

“ What is your name then traveller?”

“ Samael. Samael Thaindire,”

“ Samael, hmmmm,” murmured Kathryn as if trying to resurrect a memory linked to the name.

“ Who were you coming to see in Aftlain then, Samael, got a girl here have we?” she laughed and glanced away.

“ No, no. I was coming to see the place rather than a person,” answered Thaindire slightly perturbed by Kathryn’s flirtatious manner.

“ The place? How so?” she asked as she leant over the bowl of broth and began blowing across its surface to cool it further.

“ I am a cartographer,”said Thaindire. Kathryn frowned. “A map maker. I have been commissioned to update the Duke’s maps,” he explained.

“ Ah, that will explain the fine make of your clothes and also that purse of gold you keep in your boot. Your cloak is beautiful, I love the colour, but the wolves tore it. I hope you don’t mind but I have sent it to Metylda, she is our seamstress. She will soon mend it. She can weave the sky into your cloak such is her skill you know.”

“ Er no, that’s fine thank you,” replied Thaindire noting that the landlord’s daughter had comprehensively been through his clothing and attire.

“ You didn’t have any maps on you when father found you though,” she remarked as she moved back to Thaindire bowl in hand.

“ No, they were in my saddle bags on my horse. It must have bolted through fear,” countered Thaindire.

“ Well it never bolted to the village. Most likely it will be dead now in the forest. I can’t see that it made its way back to Lancester,” commented Kathryn as she spooned a mouthful of broth and raised it to his lips. Grateful for the assistance, he sipped the thick broth into his mouth and the warmth gave him comfort.

“ Have you lived in the village for a long time?” asked Thaindire, in between mouthfuls.

“ I was born and raised here. It is all I know. All I need to know really.”

“ Really? Haven’t you been anywhere else?”

“ No, why should I? Aftlain has everything I need.”

“ But it is just a village,” said Thaindire before swallowing some more of the broth.

“ If you say so, but you might be surprised Master Thaindire.”

“ How so?”

“ Well, Aftlain is well known for being a place of craftsmen and craftswomen. You know I mentioned Metylda earlier?” Thaindire gave a nod. “ Well, she and her cousin are amazing at working with cloth and silk and so on. We have many people like that here, so there is no need to go anywhere else. In fact, people all across the land want our wares. I thought you would know that though, since you were headed here.”

“ Surely you are curious about the world beyond Aftlain?” pressed Thaindire ignoring her comment.

“ Not especially, I have much that keeps me busy in the village. Besides, the world beyond does not belong.”

“ Like what?”

“ Working at the inn, helping my family, my friends, my perfumes and of course being the best at looking after the fallen,” she answered tapping him on the nose.

“  Not married then?” asked Thaindire. Kathryn halted feeding him and lowered the spoon to the bowl.

“ No, not married.” she said without any suggestion of sadness or regret.

“ Engaged?”

“ Not that either. Why are you so interested? Fancy proposing do you?”

“ Ah, no, not my er thing,” admitted Thaindire.

Thaindire could hear noise from the tavern below drifting upwards to the room. He noticed that the evening had come; darkness now formed a backdrop beyond the window. Three slender candles placed on the mantelpiece lighted the room although the fireplace remained unlit.

The door opened and stood in the doorway was his rescuer, the landlord. He walked in and stood over both he and Kathryn.

“ That broth will see you on the mend,” he observed. Kathryn lowered the spoon enabling Thaindire to respond.

“ Thank you for your kindness, sir,” he offered, “ I am truly fortunate that you were on the road when you were. I am Samael Thaindire and indebted to you for your charity.”

“ Benjamin Dromgoole,” replied the landlord, “ welcome to the Last One Inn. You are most welcome but fear not my charity only extends so far when travellers come to us laden with marks,” he smiled.

“ Oh, of course I shall pay for my lodging, I did not expect anything else,” Thaindire answered.

“ All in good time Master Thaindire, all in good time. Tell me, was it a pack of wolves that waylaid you or a lone wolf?” asked Dromgoole.

Thaindire hesitated. Why was Dromgoole so sure that wolves had attacked him? Judging by the comments of the villagers so far it appeared that attacks on people were not uncommon, yet Dromgoole had earlier admitted that he had not seen Thaindire’s assailants. Thaindire was still uncertain as to the nature of his attackers. He knew what he had seen and moreover what he had felt when tooth and talon had cut into his yielding flesh, but he was no clearer as to the provenance of those imps and whose bidding they complied with. If, as his Order had suspected, they formed part of the unholy activity for which Aftlain had become infamous for, he felt it better not to make any mention of them. Certainly not until he had undertaken the investigation, which the mandate decreed.

“ It was a pack,” he answered, opting to adopt Dromgoole’s assumption for the meanwhile, besides, he was loathe to herald his arrival in the village by trumpeting tales of ungodly imps, especially when he had yet to establish the true nature of Aftlain.

“ Thought so, they had a real go at you. They had retreated when I arrived. I thought you were dead when I first cast eyes on you for you were unmoving and the ground bore your blood,” explained Dromgoole as he walked over to the fireplace and leant against the mantelpiece.

“ Did you see my horse at all?” asked Thaindire.

Dromgoole shook his head.

“ I said to Samael that the forest will have taken the poor beast by now,” interjected Kathryn.

“ More than likely,” conceded Dromgoole, “ the wolves probably went after it and left you alone. Were you not armed when travelling the road alone?”

“ No, I did not expect any trouble and besides, I am not skilled in swordsmanship,” he explained.

“ I see, what are you skilled in then Samael? Your attire and collection of gold marks are the hallmarks of someone who brings some skill to bear on the world, that much is clear,” observed Dromgoole turning from the fireplace and fixing his grey bagged eyes on Thaindire, his gaze appearing wearisome.

“ Cartography. I have been sent by the Duke to map his roads and update the settlements within the Duchy, though I fear most of my recent work is now lost along with my steed.”

“ Hmmm, well Aftlain is easy to map. One road in and one road out. Just draw a straight line with a square on the end. The only village at the end of the Widow’s Way. Has always been the case. The forest beyond is too thick and dark for anyone to forge a way through. You come here; you stay here,” added Dromgoole, emphasising his last sentence by pointing downwards.

“And I of course, brought you here,” added the landlord. There followed a pause as Dromgoole wrestled with some other thought.

“ This is my inn. My daughter,” he nodded towards Kathryn “ helps along with my wife Alyce and my son Thomas. Judging by your wounds you will be with us quite some time, you will probably end up wanting to stay here, everyone does. Have you travelled from Lancester?”

“ Yes, that’s right,” replied Thaindire.

“ And you say you are a cartographer?”

“ Yes.”

“ He’s already told you this father,” said Kathryn.

“ Have you family?” asked Benjamin.

“ No, none.,” said Thaindire.

“ So, nobody is worrying about where you might be then?”

“ That’s right.”