by A. Giannetti
Wearily, Balbus sat in a chair and felt his eyes grow heavy as the fire in the stove crackled cheerfully, filling the room with its warmth. The stew began to boil, and a mouth-watering aroma filled the farmhouse. Carbo suddenly appeared at the entranceway to the kitchen and came to sit by Balbus’s side where he patiently awaited his share of the dinner.
“You have earned a double portion tonight, my friend,” said Balbus, rousing himself and stroking the dog’s sleek head. His eyelids soon drifted down again, and while he dozed in his chair, Carbo kept Elerian out of trouble, gently gripping him with his teeth by the back of his shirt when he attempted to climb onto the counter and shouldering him aside when he attempted to open the doors to the bathroom and the passageway which led to the barn. Eventually, the clatter of pots and pans woke Balbus, and he saw that Elerian was inside his lower cupboards, busily emptying them of all they contained while Carbo sat nearby and watched him with a tolerant look.
Balbus smiled at the pair, and rising from his chair, went over to the stove to sample the stew. It was ready, and Balbus filled the bowls on the table with a wooden ladle. He set a third bowl on the floor for Carbo. From a shelf, Balbus then took a round brown loaf of bread and tore it into crusty chunks which he set on the table in another bowl. By then, Elerian had emerged from the cupboards, and Balbus seated him again at the table. Balbus sat in the other chair and began to eat. He suddenly realized that he was famished, for up to now; the events of the day had banished hunger from his mind. Elerian watched Balbus for a moment and then began to eat also. Balbus suspected he had not had a meal in quite some time, for he finished two bowls of stew and a good portion of the bread.
After they had both eaten their fill, Balbus put the remainder of the soup and bread into an earthenware bowl for Carbo to finish. He then took Elerian up into the loft. The sound of the rain was louder here, directly under the roof. Like the lower level, the room was paneled with polished oak planks, as were the floor and ceiling. The only furniture was a dresser and a bed made of oak with a heavy wooden chest at its foot. There was a fireplace in one wall, and Balbus laid out an extra mattress in front of it after kindling a bright fire to take the chill from the room. Elerian did not object when Balbus put him on the mattress and covered him with a thick wool blanket. He fell asleep almost instantly, only his tangled black locks visible from under the gray blanket.
Balbus was weary too, but instead of seeking his own bed, he went back downstairs. After fixing a cup of mulled wine, he sat in one of the chairs by the fire. Sipping the warm, spiced drink, he sat and stared into the coals while Carbo slept at his feet, and the drumming of the rain on the roof continued unabated. Only yesterday, he would have sat and read one of his books without a care on his mind, but those peaceful days might now be lost to him forever. For years, he had unsuccessfully sought the hidden legends of the forest, blissfully overlooking the fact that meeting one of those legends might change his life forever.
“I may have finally found what I was looking for, if the boy proves to be more than human,” thought Balbus to himself, “but I may not enjoy my discovery for long if the rain and my poor attempt at hiding our trail do not hold back those who may still be following him.”
Eventually, he set his worries aside and got stiffly out of his chair to check the bars on the door and on the window shutters. The thought of the thick iron bars on the far side of the shutters was comforting. “They’ll not get in here so easily, if they do find us,” he comforted himself as he dimmed his magical lamp by replacing the cover. By the muted, orange light of the dying fire, he climbed the stairs to the loft and lay down on his bed. The violence of the storm had finally abated, but the rain continued to fall. Balbus fell asleep listening to the steady, reassuring beat of raindrops on the roof.
THE VENETOR
As Balbus and Elerian slept in their warm beds, the heavy rain continued. The roof of the forest was drenched, and one by one, the heavy raindrops found their way through the leaves of the canopy, falling to the forest floor where they soaked into the carpet of leaves beneath the trees, darkening and matting them down. Rivulets and streamlets coursed down the water-darkened trunks of the trees, spreading across the ground and creating shallow pools in the low places. Gradually, all signs and scents of Balbus’s passage through the forest were erased. Even the dark blood spilled by the wolves was washed away. Only Elerian’s torn, blood stained tunic remained visible above the rain-soaked leaves.
The storm should have comforted Balbus, but his sleep was restless, disturbed by dreams of fiery-eyed wolves that chased him through the darkened aisles of a trackless forest. Just before dawn, he awakened suddenly, roused by an unusual noise. He noticed at once that the hammering of the rain on the roof had ended, and in the deep silence that filled the farmhouse, he could clearly hear Carbo whining softly by the front door. This was the sound which had awakened him.
As quietly as he could, Balbus got out of bed and put on a pair of soft slippers. A quick glance told him that Elerian was still asleep in his bed near the cold fireplace. His flight from the wolves, the healing of Carbo, and the heavy meal he had eaten had all contributed to send him into a deep, exhausted slumber from which he would not easily be roused.
“Sleep on, boy,” said Balbus softly to himself. “Likely enough Carbo just wants to go out for a breath of air.”
Balbus went downstairs, his slippered feet making no noise on the wooden treads. It was dark in the room below, except for the faint light cast by a few dying embers in the fireplace. Carbo, who appeared as a dark shadow by the front door, whined again, sounding both uneasy and troubled. As Carbo fell silent, Balbus clearly heard a loud, snuffling sound as if some large creature on the other side of the thick oak door was trying to pick up a scent.
“Maybe it’s only a leopard,” thought Balbus to himself without conviction, for the sound did not resemble anything he had ever heard before. A soft, ominous creak from the crossbar across his front door caused him to start nervously. He listened in alarm as the thick oak planks of the door groaned, as if some powerful creature was using its weight and strength against them in an effort to force its way into the farmhouse. Filled with a sense of dread, Balbus rushed to the fireplace and took down his sword. Turning toward the door, he waited apprehensively with his sword in his right hand, uncertain as to whether the door would hold up under the assault of the unknown creature on the other side of it. Carbo growled softly and prepared to spring on anything that might force its way through the door.
Thoughts of the venetor forced themselves into Balbus’s mind. Since his grandfather’s time, it had ventured out at night onto the hilltops in search of victims. The morning sun would rise to illuminate some remote farmhouse or woodcutter’s cottage whose door was burst open, or even more frightening, was open and unlocked; but in each instance, the result was the same. The members of the families inside the homes were either found torn apart, as if they were the victims of some terrible anger, or missing entirely, never to be seen again. Sometimes, a few tracks were left behind, not quite human and not quite animal, but the trail always led down to the edge of the forest where it unfailingly disappeared. Every attempt to track the creature, even with dogs, had proved useless, and the many murders it had committed had never been avenged.
“Will my name and Elerian’s be added to the list of its victims?” wondered Balbus to himself. At any moment, he expected the tortured wood of the door to give way, but as abruptly as it had begun, the assault on it ended. Silence filled the room, and Balbus breathed a sigh of relief, hoping that whatever was outside his walls had given up trying to break in. His hopes were dashed when he heard scraping sounds, such as sharp claws might make if they were searching for some weak point in the thick walls of his house. The noises continued for some time, making a complete circuit of his house before they, too, died away. Balbus was certain the creature was still outside his walls, however, for Carbo remained by the door with his hackles raised.
; Almost without Balbus becoming aware of it, an insidious impulse was born in his mind, urging him to walk over to the door and to open it. What its source was, he could not say; but common sense told him to resist it, and he remained where he was. He felt an undercurrent of anger, then, in his mind, and the desire to open the door grew into an overwhelming compulsion. Balbus watched in horror as his legs began to carry him against his will to the door. Unable to stop himself entirely, he made a last great effort of will and prevailed upon his legs to carry him over to the window instead of the door.
As he stood before the window, his right hand slowly opened, as if under the direction of another mind, and his sword rang softly as it fell to the floor. As if in a dream, Balbus watched the same hand that had dropped the sword lift the bar from the heavy shutters. Sweat beaded his brow, for he knew that something dreadful waited out in the darkness outside; but again, as if someone else controlled his limbs, he grasped a shutter in each hand and slowly opened them. It was pitch dark outside, but through the window glass, the faint light of the coals still glowing in the fireplace dimly illuminated a pair of powerful hands gripping the window bars at the level of Balbus’s chest. They were not human hands, for they were covered with sleek black hair, and the short, powerful fingers were tipped with curved, dark claws that gleamed dully in the dim light cast by the fire. Behind the hands, Balbus could see the indistinct outlines of a terrifying face dominated by pale, glittering eyes that seemed to shine with their own light. There was intelligence in those eyes, but Balbus thought there was a hint of madness, too, and a terrible rage. As if he were some dainty waiting to be eaten, the creature gloated over him for a moment, as he stood frozen before the open window.
Unable to stop himself, Balbus opened the window sash, and the cool night air rushed through the opening, bringing with it a rank, animal scent. Slowly the creature’s mouth opened, exposing sharp, yellowed fangs. Balbus was seized with a terrible premonition of danger. He groaned softly, and the veins throbbed in his neck from the effort of trying to move his paralyzed limbs away from the window.
Suddenly, he was thrust to one side as Carbo lunged past him, striking him heavily with his right shoulder. Fearlessly, Carbo bit down on the clawed hand on the left, and the creature standing outside the window squalled in anger as it tore free of Carbo’s teeth. The spell was broken, and Balbus found himself in control of his limbs once more. As Carbo dropped to the floor, growling deep in his chest, Balbus slammed the shutters closed and barred them before a terrible fear loosened his limbs and caused him to fall to the floor.
For a time after that there was silence, broken only by his own heavy, terrified breathing and Carbo’s soft growls. Balbus began to hope that the creature had finally gone away, but then, faint scraping sounds came to his ears as if hard claws were trying to find a grip on the smooth clay tiles which covered the roof. Having failed to compel Balbus to open the door, the creature was looking for another way into the house.
Seizing his sword again, Balbus ran up the stairs to the loft, followed by Carbo, and heard the clink of tiles being loosened, followed by scratching sounds as if the creature was digging at the thick roof boards with its claws. Elerian stirred restlessly in his bed, and Balbus began to despair at the creature’s persistence, for it seemed determined to break into his home in one way or another. Then, in the barn, a rooster crowed a greeting to the sunrise it could not see but which it sensed was gradually lightening the eastern sky. To Balbus’s relief, the scratching on the roof stopped, and a few moments later, Carbo’s raised hackles smoothed themselves, and he ceased to growl. Balbus guessed that the rising sun must have driven the creature back into the forest.
Elerian, amazingly, still slept on, and Balbus quietly returned to the lower level of the farmhouse. With trembling hands, he built up a roaring fire in the fireplace, and soon the room was flooded with light and heat. Although the sun was rising, he opened the mage light for good measure. When the sun rose entirely above the horizon, sending its golden rays through the cracks in the shutters, Balbus was still sitting on the hearthstone with Carbo at his feet. He remained badly shaken, for he could not escape the feeling that he, along with Carbo and Elerian, had narrowly escaped from an awful death.
TULLIUS
“Pull yourself together,” Balbus finally scolded himself softly. “You can’t sit here cowering all day.” Hesitantly, he rose and went over to the window. Steeling himself against the memory of the terrifying face that had confronted him during the night, he removed the crossbar and opened the shutters. Bright sunlight flooded into the room, dispelling his fears and raising his spirits. When Balbus looked out between the bars, there was nothing in sight except his own neat front yard.
After satisfying himself that the venetor was truly gone, he hung up his sword and went into the kitchen to prepare a breakfast of hot oatmeal with honey and fresh milk. Carbo lay down with his head on his front paws by the stove and watched, only his bright eyes moving as they followed Balbus around the room. More than anything else, the dog’s calm behavior finally convinced Balbus that the danger was past, at least for now.
He stooped to pat Carbo on the head, and then, started violently when he rose up again. Elerian had appeared silently and unexpectedly in the entrance to the kitchen.
“I think I will have to hang a bell around your neck, Elerian,” said Balbus with a wry smile as he tried to slow his pounding heart, for his nerves were still badly frayed from the events of the night before. Without a word, Elerian sat down at the table with what looked suspiciously like a gleam of laughter in his gray eyes.
“Does the young rascal enjoy frightening me?” wondered Balbus suddenly, but Elerian looked completely innocent as he watched with great interest as Balbus set out their breakfast.
After he and Elerian were done eating and the dishes cleared away, Balbus decided to try to disguise the boy as best he could by dressing him like a Hesperian. “There is no harm in taking precautions,” he thought to himself as he ripped the seams out of one of his old brown tunics. “If the master of the black wolves suddenly shows up on my doorstep searching for the boy, I had best be prepared. Later, I can try again to discover where the boy came from and who his parents might be.”
Living on his own and repairing his own clothes had taught Balbus to sew with a fine, neat stitch. He cut and sewed the heavy linen cloth from his old tunic into a pair of pants and a smaller tunic which fit Elerian fairly well. After the clothes were completed, he made Elerian a pair of rough sandals out of a scrap of soft leather. Elerian watched the whole process with bright, curious eyes. When the sandals were done, Balbus dressed Elerian in his new clothes. He threw the boy’s old clothes into the fire and watched carefully until they were burnt into gray ash. Balbus then surveyed Elerian with a critical eye. He was immediately disappointed by the results of his labors. “This won’t do,” he thought to himself worriedly. Despite the change in clothes, Elerian looked nothing like a Hesperian child. With his dark hair and gray eyes, he would stick out among other Hesperians like a beacon on a dark night.
“I will have to seek out Tullius and see what he can do to help me,” decided Balbus reluctantly. Tullius was an old friend of Balbus’s and a mage besides. It was he, who had laid the finding spell on Balbus’s walking stick, but he was a blunt, outspoken fellow, and Balbus was certain he would not approve of any part of his recent adventure. “If I can convince him to help me, I will gladly listen to any criticism he has to offer,” thought Balbus to himself. “Perhaps he will have some spell which he can use to disguise the boy.”
There were chores to be done first, however, and with Elerian following along behind him, Balbus entered the covered passageway that led to the barn. There was no ceiling overhead, and the darkened beams and planks supporting the roof were all exposed. Sacks of flour and beans, smoked hams, onions and a variety of other things were suspended from the beams on thick cords, for the area served Balbus as a sort of hanging pantry. A number of farm im
plements and other gear hung on the bare fieldstone walls. Gray close fitting flagstones covered the floor.
The passageway was cool, for the sun had not yet warmed the walls, but when Balbus opened a wooden door at the end of the corridor, warm air, scented with the sweet smell of fresh hay, swept over him and Elerian; for the heat given off by the larger animals in the barn was more than enough to keep it warm, even at night. Balbus let Elerian scatter wheat for the chickens and then showed him how to feed the sturdy brown plow horse and the half dozen gray sheep. He watched in surprise as the pugnacious ram with his great ribbed, curling horns came up to the edge of his stall to have Elerian scratch his ears. The powerful beast had an uncertain temper, even around Balbus and had chased him across a pasture more than once.
After feeding his one cow, Balbus pulled out a low wooden stool and a wooden bucket and proceeded to milk the animal. The two gray striped cats that lived in the barn came to watch. Balbus sent warm streams of milk into the air with a squeeze of his fingers, and the cats caught them with their open mouths, much to the Elerian’s delight. His clear voice pleased Balbus’s ears and gladdened his heart, but it troubled him too. Even if his appearance was somehow changed by Tullius, that remarkable voice would immediately draw attention to the boy.
“I wonder if even Tullius has the power to help me hide him?” wondered Balbus to himself as he watched Elerian stroke the cats, which purred loudly as they wound back and forth between his short legs.
Later that morning, after completing his chores, Balbus decided it was time to visit his old friend. He hung his knife on his belt and fastened Carbo’s nail studded collar around the dog’s neck, reminding himself as he did so to wash off the dark stains on the spikes, lingering evidence of the battle of the other day. Balbus put on a thick brown wool cloak and gathered Elerian up under it, seating him on his left arm so that only his bright eyes showed beneath its folds. He did not expect to meet anyone on the path to Tullius’s house, but it was best not to take chances.
