The Fragile Fall At Tallow Bridge (The White Blood Chronicles Book 1) (8 page)

“ 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.

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 afternoon” 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.

“ Good day,” remarked Thandire with a tilt of his head.

The farmer set down the cart with a grunt. Four sacks were atop the handcart although he could not ascertain their contents.

“ Afternoon,” replied the man wiping the sleeve of his top across his sweating brow.

“ I am new to the village and was just taking it in, what lies down this track?” asked Thaindire.

“ This? This leads to the barns and the fields beyond, but such graft will be too much for you in your state sir,” smiled the farmer, “ I’m Fenton Senechal.”

“ Samael Thaindire, “ he reached out a hand and felt it engulfed by that of the farmer who shook it firmly.

“ Aye we keep the grain and such likes down that way,” continued Senechal, “ nothing much in the fields now what with harvest done.”

“ Are the fields far?” queried Thaindire, surprised to find that there was an opening of the forest at all.

“ About five minutes’ walk, although the track is bumpy and not to be done without daylight.” he cautioned.

“ Why not?” asked Thaindire as another gust of cold wind blew across his face.

“ Well it cuts though the forest before you reach the barns and the field and nobody ventures into the forest after dark,” commented the farmer with a confirmatory nod.

“ I see,” replied Thaindire,” do you require any help with your load? It looks rather heavy for one man to pull.”

“ That is kind of you sir, but, it is no matter, I can manage.”

“ Well, if you are sure.”

“ I am, but thank you.”

The pair fell silent unable to find anything else to remark upon.

“ Anyway, I must get this grain to the miller so fare ye well,” added Senechal as he picked up the arms of the cart once more and with a heave set it in motion.

“ Fare well,” replied Thaindire as he stood looking down the slight path that was flanked tightly on either side by the unyielding forest. He turned on his heel and as the farmer advanced along the northern edge of the square, passing the inn, his cart bobbing on the cobbles, Thaindire rounded the jutting out spur of trees so that he was now walking along the north-eastern edge of the square, the well across to the right. A villager was busy hauling on the handle, the rope coiling as he extracted water from the depths of the well. A woman, presumably his wife, stood next to him with two buckets hanging from a length of wood which she had across her shoulders to aid carrying. Thaindire stood watching the pair work when a voice down to his left interrupted him.

“ You are the traveller aren’t you?”

Thaindire looked and saw a young girl, perhaps aged only eight or nine years old. She held a wooden sword in her left hand and looked up at Thaindire from beneath her blonde fringe.

“ Hello, yes, that's me,” replied Thaindire.

“ Do you like it here?”

“ Er, yes, I do, I have been well looked after at the tavern.”

“ That's good. I like it here although not when the boys won't let me play with them.”

“ Why's that then?”

The girl waved her sword in front of her.

“ They said that girls don’t carry swords.”

“ Oh, well, sometimes they do.”

“ That's what I said, I told them Katarina does. If she heard them teasing me, she would smack them.”

“ Who's Katarina, your sister?”

The little girl laughed at Thaindire's comment.

“ No. She's a guard. We don’t see her much. I bet she is one of the best guards here.”

“ I'm sure you are right. What's your name?”

“ Annabel.”

“ I'm Samael.”

“ I know. My mother and father were talking about you last night.”

“ Were they now?”

“ Yes. They said you are from Lancester. Where's that?”

“ It's a city a long way to the east of here.”

“ Is that where you live?”

“ Yes, I do.”

“ What's your house like?”