by Martin Ash
The evening was mellow and still young. As I left Ravenscrag castle I had it in mind to return to the taverns. Crossing the market square I was approached by one of the messenger boys I’d sent out earlier.
He handed me a sealed note. As I opened it a waft of familiar perfume reached my nostrils, and I knew instantly the sender’s identity. I allowed my eyes to close for a moment, savouring memories and anticipations.
By lanternlight I read the single sentence handwritten there:
‘I will come to your room this evening.
C.’
I altered my plans and returned directly to the Blue Raven.
Two hours later, when I had bathed, changed, eaten and rested, there was a soft rap on my chamber door. I rose and opened it. A woman stood there, hooded and veiled, swathed in a long black velvet cloak.
Cametta!
She swept quickly into the room and threw back her hood and pulled aside the veil as I closed the door. Her arms encircled my neck and she pressed her lips to mine. I held her. Her kiss, the scent of her and the pressure of her warm body against mine, were deeply stimulating.
‘So long!’ Cametta said, breathless, drawing back. ‘I thought you would never come again.’
‘It’s been difficult. I made every effort, but…’
‘I came as soon as I could after your note arrived. I can’t stay long.’
‘Where is your husband?’
‘On duty. He may be home at midnight.’
‘He believes you to be there?’
‘The household think I’m out organizing for tomorrow.’
Cametta’s husband was Darean Monsard, captain of Ravenscrag’s guard. She and I had met on my first visit to Ravenscrag, when she had purchased fineries from me. That was four years ago when, following years of struggle, I was gaining a reputation as a successful merchant beyond the borders of Khimmur. Cametta and I had become lovers then and our passions had been rekindled on subsequent visits.
Cametta unfastened the clasp of her cloak and shrugged the garment from her shoulders. She took my hands and moved backwards towards the bed, smiling. ‘Come, my love. There’s much lost time to make up.’
Releasing my hands she undid the fastenings of her blouse, smiling at the expression on my face. The candlelight reflected off her long auburn hair. She was exceedingly beautiful, young, fresh-skinned and slim. Her hair fell loosely around her shoulders. She slipped the blouse off; beneath it she was naked.
‘Come, Dinbig, show me your magic again!’
I needed no further bidding. Quickly conjuring erotic raptures to enhance our pleasures, I strode to her and took her in my arms.
~
When the candles had burned low Cametta lay drowsily, her head on my chest. I gently stroked her hair. She murmured, ‘We know nothing of magic like yours in Ravenscrag. You know, my love, were you to stay you would find no lack of employment here.’
I lifted an eyebrow. ‘Among the ladies of Ravenscrag?’
She pinched my flank. ‘You know I didn’t mean that. That magic you will share with me and no other!’
‘Ah!’
‘But others would pay handsomely to learn the rudiments of your craft. With that, and your knowledge of trade, you would quickly grow rich. You would become a prominent citizen here. Will you not consider staying?’
‘It’s not so simple.’
‘Why not?’
Cametta had married for love, or what she had genuinely taken for love at the time. But the marriage had also not been disadvantageous. It had elevated her to prestigious status in the community. She’d been very young when she fell for the dashing Darean Monsard, and only later did she discover him somewhat coarse. She learned too of his appetite for ale and tendency to brawling and, far worse, wenching. I had happened along at the right moment, bringing unusual wares from far locales, attracting both her desire for novelty and change, and her roving eye. But now she was of a mind to make me stay, or perhaps take her away with me, neither of which fitted my plans.
‘Lord Flarefist is of a mind to learn,’ she persisted.
I chuckled. He may think himself of a mind but he’s not of a leaning. Lord Flarefist has no flair for the spirit world or magical arts.’
‘Irnbold, then.’
‘A more likely candidate, though he’s no longer young and I suspect his brain is irreparably fogged by spirits of another kind.’
‘But there are many others.’
‘I don’t doubt it.’
‘But you won’t consider staying?’
‘Very well, I shall discuss the arrangement immediately with your husband. I’m sure he will be quite accommodating.’
Cametta sighed. ‘Then take me away with you.’
‘I can’t do that. It would be unfair to uproot you from your home and family. What of your son, Alfair?’
‘Alfair could come. He’s young but he longs for adventure, as do I.’
‘Where I go there are frequently more than adventures. The dangers lie large and unannounced. I wouldn’t jeopardize either his life or yours by subjecting you to the vicissitudes of a life like mine.’
She sighed again, and would have said something more, but I shifted the topic of interest. ‘I’ve brought you something.’
‘For me? What is it? Can I see?’
‘It isn’t here. Shall I bring it to your home? When can I call?’
‘Tomorrow. Darean is on duty from midday.’
‘Perfect. Then the reputable and dashing Khimmurian merchant, Ronbas Dinbig, will stop by your home early in the afternoon with wares to display for your delight. I trust you can arrange for some privacy while you peruse my goods?’
‘It can be so.’ She raised herself onto her elbows, kissing me. ‘I must go, my love.’
‘So soon?’
‘I told you, Darean may be home soon after midnight.’
She left the bed and began to dress. I watched her, becoming aroused again at the sight of her nakedness as it was stolen from my sight.
‘Cametta, stay just a few moments more.’
She smiled. Fully clothed she returned to me, touched her fingers to her lips, then mine. ‘Until tomorrow.’
She replaced her veil, then pulled the hood of her cloak up over her head, blew a kiss.
‘Tomorrow,’ I said.
Chapter Four
Tomorrow came in the habit of all tomorrows, shedding its skin in the dark hours, transforming itself unseen to emerge with the dawn as a new today. In this instance a bright, cloudless, breezeless today, hot even at first light, almost torrid.
I took a light breakfast in my chamber, sitting at the window so I might view the goings-on in the market-place. Shopkeepers, or their lackeys, were sweeping clean the cobbles outside their premises as the first merchants arrived to set up their booths. One or two street entertainers entered the square, hopeful of early pickings. The heat rising from the rooftops already addled the air; ravens hung lazily in the shining blue overhead. Gradually the market began to fill with folk from Ravenscrag and beyond.
Most of that morning I spent in the pursuit of business. It had taken many years to build up the reputation and success I now enjoyed. As a child I had grown up at Castle Drome, seat of one of Khimmur’s most powerful warlords, the Orl of Surla. My father had been head steward there. But years ago I had quarrelled with the Orl’s son, Kilroth, a boy of my own age. Later, Kilroth took offence when, seeking initiation into the Zan-Chassin, he was twice rejected, where I succeeded without excessive effort.
Kilroth had exercised his resentment by making life at the castle as difficult as he could for myself and my family. Upon the death of his father he assumed the hereditary title of Orl, and dismissed my father from service on a fabricated charge of petty misdemeanour. With my family facing starvation I made my way to Khimmur’s capital, Hon-Hiaita. There, living on my wits, I rapidly developed the requisite talents for successful business, and began to prosper. Now my name and reputation were known far and wid
e.
In the Ravenscrag taverns the previous evening I had extended invitations to a number of merchants and persons of means to call today at the warehouse where my goods were stored. I put them at their ease with good chilled wine, fresh mint and ginger cordials and gossip, while displaying the wares I had brought, to agree prices and arrange transactions. Subsequently, I visited the warehouses of local merchants, and the market itself, to peruse goods amd make note of possible purchases, and in one or two cases to place firm orders.
I lunched well in a local tavern and, with the sun blazing past its zenith, made my way through the baking streets to the house of Darean and Cametta Monsard. A boy accompanied me, puffing and sweating even more than I as he laboured with the handcart containing the gifts I’d chosen for Cametta, plus a few other fineries I thought might tempt her.
True to her word, Cametta received me in a spacious drawing-room, then dismissed her servant so that we might be alone and undisturbed while she inspected my goods. We made love throughout much of the afternoon, on divan, floor and console, in a haze of erotic bewitchments, and I left as evening approached, sated, wholly depleted of energies, and suffused with a warm, drowsy afterglow and a sense of all having been set to rights in the world.
I went next to the castle. One of my wagons carried a weight of tasty delicacies brought from Sirroma, Kemahamek and elsewhere, which I hoped might at some point tempt the palates and grace the dining-tables of Ravenscrag high society. But my arrival was ill-timed; the castle, to the last woman and man, was in frantic preparation for the evening’s celebration. Lord Flarefist and his spouse were indisposed, as was the chief steward and chamberlain. The chefs sweltering in the great kitchens could similarly spare no time to speak to me, but bade me return the following morning.
All this activity only served to rekindle my apprehension over the imminent confinement. Sheerquine had previously given birth to stillborn infants on more than one occasion. Neither she nor her husband could be said to be in the first bloom of youth. Yet the extraordinary optimism and certainty over the arrival of Ravenscrag’s heir – now apparently just hours away – still prevailed.
Surely among the castle staff, if not Ravenscrag’s family and its close advisors, there were doubts unexpressed, I told myself, for this was not normal. Yet I saw no evidence of such. The contagion of euphoria had spread even to some of the foreign guests who I had spoken to earlier in the day. They were perhaps less inclined to give premature vent to hopes as yet unrealized, but none seemed to consider the mood unnatural.
The molten orb of the sun settled towards the heights, rendering the sky in merging shades of rose-pink, peach and crimson. I kept to the castle precincts for a while longer, observing the preparations, then ascended to the battlements to gaze out across the town and beyond, into the immense Wansirian wilds. Illuminated with red-gold and shadows of deepening blue, the surrounding peaks rose in splendid majesty, dwarfing that upon which Ravenscrag crouched.
Visible towards the rear of the castle some distance away, beyond walled gardens and orchards, was the glimmer of water, a little river reflecting red between trees. A small figure passed through a portal in one wall, casting a long shadow. A second figure moved quickly up alongside it. As I watched they made their way towards the rear of the castle’s main wing via a grassy avenue of neglected topiary.
Their direction brought them close upon my position. I descended, passed along a corridor into an arcade, and spied the two again across a shadowed sward. I stepped out so that our paths might cross.
‘Lady Moonblood!’
Moonblood, seeming in a reverie, hesitated in her step and looked around. Recognizing me, she gave a shy smile. Her companion, the old hound Rogue, wandered off a little way, his pink tongue lolling, and slumped down in the shade.
I approached her. At her back the sunset had become a bloody stain across the sky. I shifted my position to avoid the dazzle of the low sun.
She was clothed in a light cotton summer dress and sandals. Her strange, expressive little face conveyed intelligence and reservation; she was inquisitive, eager, and yet unsure and a little awkward. Her incipient womanhood, though still barely expressed, nevertheless affected my senses. Soon, I thought, in a year, perhaps more… I stopped the thought before it could run further.
‘Good evening, sir,’ said Moonblood. Tiny beads of perspiration gilded her forehead and nose. The light cast a ruddy glow upon her normally pale features, but her cheeks seemed flushed apart from this. She was slightly out of breath.
‘Good evening. It’s an enchanting evening, is it not?’
‘Yes, but too hot.’
‘You look as though you’ve been exerting yourself.’ On Moonblood’s dress, and caught in the tiny hairs of her damp skin, was a covering of what I at first took to be dust, but upon closer inspection saw was mainly pollen and tiny seed husks. She wore a circlet of wild flowers on her head, and chains of daisies around her neck and wrists. I was intrigued to know where she’d been, but it would have been impertinent to ask directly, and she gave no explanation.
‘I hope you don’t mind my speaking to you. I was taking a stroll, having concluded my business for the day, when I saw you approaching.’
‘Of course not, though as you can see I’m hardly presentable. I must return to my chamber to wash and dress for the banquet.’
‘Might I walk with you a short way, back into the castle?’
She nodded and I took my place beside her. ‘You must feel great excitement at the prospect of this birth, now so close upon us.’
‘Excuse me? Oh, yes. Yes, I do.’ Moonblood seemed distracted. I sensed a slight edginess in her manner. I wondered at first whether she might be displeased at having encountered me, yet I felt that her smile was quite genuine, and that in fact I was in favour – I had made the right move in my presentation of the doll, Misha. So I put her unease down to other factors, as yet unrevealed.
‘A brother, I understand, if all the signs are true.’
‘Yes, a little brother. My father’s heir.’
Was there a catch in her voice? Could it be that Moonblood was aggrieved by the prospect of a sibling heir to Ravenscrag? Surely not, for even in the absence of male offspring, upon the death of her father power would never have fallen to Moonblood. I risked probling a little deeper. ‘Does the prospect not entirely please you, Lady Moonblood?’
‘Oh, it pleases me. Of course it does. And it will be so marvellous for my father and mother. But I- Oh, it’s silly, really. I’m just a bit anxious. When the baby is born and is seen to be safe and well, then I’ll relax, I’m sure.’
Now here was something! For the first time I was hearing doubts about the forthcoming birth, and from a member of the Ravenscrag family.
‘But I thought all was secure and without doubt. The predictions… the tone I’ve so far encountered has been one of supreme optimisim.’
Moonblood gave a nervous laugh. ‘Yes, I’m being foolish. It’s just that sometimes… I don’t know… it’s unnatural. I can’t help feeling afraid.’
She glanced up at me with a charming, vulnerable expression, half-smiling, half-beseeching.
‘In what form do your fears manifest?’ I asked.
She glanced away. ‘I can’t say. They’re just feelings. Sometimes I have nightmares. Oh, you must think me foolish.’
‘There’s nothing foolish in being aware of your senses. Dreams and nightmares can provide an invaluable fund of reference to things we are incapable of recognizing or comprehending in waking consciousness – and I would never dismiss presentiments out of hand.’
She seemed encouraged by this. ‘Do you really think so?’
‘I know so. Yet we must exercise extreme caution in our interpretations of their apparent messages, for we are liable, most often unwittingly, to mislead ourselves rather than acknowledge the truth of what we may be led to discover, which may not always be what we wish for. It’s a complex process, and we’re capable of tremendous self
-deceit. Have you expressed anything of your fears to anyone else?’
‘No. I mean… No. Nobody here would take notice of me. I’m just a silly, fanciful girl.’
‘I doubt that.’
We had arrived close to the end of a major corridor intersecting the castle. Moonblood halted near the foot of a flight of stone stairs, deep in thought. I observed the play of expressions across her round, young face. She raised her head to look at me with a troubled gaze. Her expression changed. She stepped back, uttering a little gasp, as if with alarm.
‘Lady Moonblood, is something the matter?’
She quickly regained her composure. ‘No. I’m sorry. I thought I saw something. But it was nothing.’
‘What was it that you thought you saw?’
She shook her head. ‘No, it was nothing. I’m tired, and a little overwrought. I should go now.’
I would have given much to have spoken with her some more, but I couldn’t detain her further. ‘I hope I will see you, then, at the banquet.’
She gave a quick smile. ‘Yes, and my brother will have been born and all will be well.’
‘And might I request in advance that you permit me the honour of a dance?’
She smiled again, blushed, and dimpled. ‘Of course. Now I must go. Thank you, sir. Thank you for your company.’
She turned and made off quickly up the stairs. I watched until she was lost from sight around the angle of the wall, then went pensively on my way. Within me was a growing feeling that there might be more, much more, to this fey girl-child than met the eye.
Chapter Five
The bells rang out over Ravenscrag, into the nightclad forest and rocky heights all around, announcing the birth of Flarefist and Sheerquine’s child. Guests assembled at the castle, eager to partake of the celebratory banquet. When the bells ceased their jubilant tolling the cheers of the townsfolk could be heard rising from below the castle walls.
The child was born not long after the sun has set on this, the second night of darkmoon. It was a boy, brought immediately to the banqueting hall to be proudly displayed. His birth-time corresponded precisely with the predictions of the astrologer, Irnbold.
