The Fragile Fall At Tallow Bridge (The White Blood Chronicles Book 1) (7 page)

“ 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 realised 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.

“ 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 the two stone steps and hammered on the wooden door.