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

by Mark G Heath

  “ She was no woman, she was a whore,” spat Kathryn. Thaindire said no more as he was not in the mood for debating the morality of Kendra Leventhorp.

  “ What will become of her?” asked Thaindire.

  “ She will fall from Tallow Bridge into the water to cleanse her sins and then the river will take her, I guess.”

  Thaindire gave a thoughtful nod.

  He reached for his breakfast as Kathryn looked out of the window.

  “ Well, you enjoy breakfast, I need to go and tell Martha about what has happened so I shall go and do that while you eat and I will return and see to your back. “

  “ Very well,“ answered Thaindire.

  As soon as she was gone, he got down on his hands and knees and extracted the vial of Aqua Fortis and his rolled-up parchments and placed them on the chair seat. Hurriedly, he pulled on his boots, trying to ignore the protests of his back. He had heard no chimes yet from the church bell and was thus unaware as to the time but knew now that it was light he could not waste any time. Clipping on his cloak, he then buckled on his sword and snatched up the vial and parchments, tucking the latter into his belt to his side so his cloak would conceal them. Cautiously, he opened the door and looked out onto the landing. It was empty. He stepped out of his room and headed down the stairs onto the lower landing. He looked first to Kathryn’s door and then to the room where Lancaster resided, expecting either or both to open, but they did not and he continued on down the stairs. On entering the bar area he found it empty, the Dromgoole family doubtless busy elsewhere about the tavern. Quickly, he made his way to the door and outside.

  Another cold morning greeted him, the air pinching his face. The sky remained flat and grey as the day beforehand. He looked across the square, which was just coming to life, the stores opening across on the other side. Thaindire turned to his right and walked across the front of the tavern before darting down the alleyway next to it. Carefully he made his way to the rear of the inn so he was able to look over the rear yard and the stables. Benjamin Dromgoole came into view, pushing a barrel along with his foot, the cask of ale rumbling over the ground as he grunted with the exertion. The landlord passed out of view but he could hear him talking to somebody. Thaindire glanced behind him but the alleyway remained empty. The talking halted and Thomas Dromgoole walked forward and into the stables. Thaindire waited a moment to see if he re-appeared but he did not. Peering around the corner, Thaindire could not see anybody else in the yard and decided to press forward. He ran across the yard and into the stables almost banging into a surprised younger Dromgoole.

  With a flourish, Thaindire had his sword drawn and pointed at the youngster’s throat. He stared back, eyes wide with anxiety.

  “ Not a word boy, “ hissed Thaindire, “ Or I will drive this sword into your throat. Understand?”

  The youth nodded his eyes still fixed on Thaindire.

  “ Good,” Thaindire responded. He glanced to his left and saw a horse in one of the bays. It looked able enough and he had not the time to be comparing mounts.

  “ Saddle and tack this horse, do it quick and keep quiet,” ordered Thaindire.

  Thomas Dromgoole nodded again and edged his way into the bay as Thaindire kept his sword levelled at the younger man. With shaking hands, Dromgoole gathered the saddle from off the wall and placed it across the horse, which shifted slightly but remained silent.

  “ Hurry up,” urged Thaindire as he cast anxious looks to the door of the stable lest anybody appear.

  Dromgoole arranged the harness and tack, moving about the horse with Thaindire following his every move, sword ready to cut him down if he cried out. Once completed the youth turned back towards Thaindire.

  “ Good, well done,” he praised. “ Now turn around.”

  The boy’s eyes widened further and his eyes began to fill with tears.

  “ Please don’t kill me,” he whispered, “ please.”

  “ I’m not going to kill you,” replied Thaindire motioning with his hand holding the bottle for him to face away from the witch hunter. Thomas obeyed and once his back was towards him, Thaindire hefted his sword and brought the pommel down hard on the youth’s head. With a low groan, he crumpled forwards and collapsed into the straw.

  Thaindire replaced his blade in the scabbard and uncorked the bottle moving to the chain and manacle about the horse’s rear leg. Crouching down, Thaindire moved the bottle as close as possible to the metal and then poured, watching as the thick liquid slowly, ever so slowly, trickled down the neck of the bottle. The liquid collected for a moment at the bottle’s opening and then poured in a hanging line of fluid until it touched the metal. Instantly there was a hiss and wisps of smoke rose from the metal as it bubbled under the impact of the corrosive liquid. Thaindire allowed himself a smile as he kept pouring and watching the metal disintegrate. He coughed a few times, the acrid fumes from the reaction of the liquid and the metal, pungent and offensive to his lungs. Eventually, the chain fell away, just leaving the manacle about the horse’s leg. Thaindire dropped the bottle to the straw and took hold of the reins leading the horse from the bay to the stable’s double doors. He looked through the gap in them and saw an empty yard. Hurriedly, Thaindire opened the doors and pulled the horse out into the tavern’s yard before hauling himself up onto the steed. Slipping his feet into the stirrups, he sat up, shimmying into the saddle and giving a dig of his heels and a cry. The horse leapt forward as Benjamin Dromgoole appeared from the rear door of the tavern.

  “ Hey! Hey! Come back!” he yelled ambling forward to try and intercept Thaindire but he was too slow and he raced past him headed for the alleyway and the square beyond. Dromgoole continued to run after Thaindire, exhorting him to return as the horse gathered speed, hooves clattering against the cobbles. Thaindire burst into the square, the sound of galloping causing the villagers across from him to turn and look. Immediately they began to yell, arms raised and started to run towards him.

  “ Go on!” yelled Thaindire at the horse as he sped past the trees on the northwestern side of the square, where the Simulacrum’s residence was hidden away. Ahead was the gap where the exiting road awaited, ready to take him all the way back to Lancester, to his Order and to the gathering of reinforcements. The villagers charged across the square but were no match for the pace of the horse and within moments, Thaindire had reached the road, almost bare trees lining it either side. Thaindire glanced over his shoulder and saw a crowd of villagers halt at the neck of the road, fists being waved and impotent shouts issued in his direction.

  “ Don’t worry you unbelievers, I will return!” he shouted back at them.

  Thaindire turned back to the road ahead which twisted left and sloped upwards, before twisting to the right again, the trees thick and impenetrable on either side. He reckoned that if he rode the steed hard he would reach the Queens’ Inn within hours and he need not stop at that inn, as one would ordinarily do so. Instead he would ride on until he got to the Twin Moons Inn where he would have to rest overnight, but that should put sufficient distance between him and Aftlain.More to the point, it would have him in the company of those who were not Aftlainers and their wicked ways so that if anyone from the village did catch up with him, he could fight his way out if necessary and seek help by virtue of the authority of his Order which was well recognised.

  The thought of the Order gave him comfort and he patted the parchments containing the map and notes, which would form the basis of his report to his superiors and the foundation on which a Vanguard Presence would be dispatched to Aftlain to issue judgement. By the One True God, he savoured the arrest of Campion and the rounding-up of all the other practitioners of the dark crafts that lurked within the village, pretending it to be some haven of tolerance when it was very clear it was nothing more than a ruse to try and disguise the false god worshipping activity that went on there.

  “ Nobody leaves Aftlain eh?” muttered Thaindire under his breath, well they had not reckoned with the determination an
d fortitude of Samael Thaindire.

  The road twisted back to the right and Thaindire pulled hard on the reins of his steed causing it to whinny and rear up slightly.

  “ By the saints, but how?” he declared as the horse halted.

  Thirty feet away stood Reznik in the middle of the road. His sword was already drawn and he held it raised. As ever, the Captain was clad in his uniform, black hat atop his head. Either side of him stood two ranks of the imps, Thaindire counted twenty in all. They tottered and swayed as if held by invisible reins, straining at them wanting to launch themselves at Thaindire. Thaindire steadied his horse and stared at the soldier and his underlings.

  “ Stand aside Captain Reznik!” shouted Thaindire drawing his long sword. The pommel was already ablaze with light and the lightning was tracing the blade, coursing up and down it. Thaindire’s voice rang out through the freezing air.

  “ Nobody leaves Aftlain,” replied Reznik.

  “ I do, now stand aside or I shall cut you down,” retorted Thaindire waving his sword above his head. He wondered if he made Reznik his target and cut him down whether the imps would cease to function with their master dead. It seemed a reasonable conclusion to reach given the way they always obeyed the soldier. Thaindire gave a backwards look but the road behind was empty, the villagers had not followed.

  “ Surrender Master Thaindire and you can return to Aftlain unharmed,” declared Reznik firmly. “ The village wants and needs you.”

  “ I will not, now yield Captain Reznik or face the full wrath of the One True God. You shall know my judgement!” shouted Thaindire.

  Reznik shook his head.

  “ For the Order of Allsaints!” bellowed Thaindire and he jammed his heels in hard into the flanks of his mount. It whinnied and leapt forward carrying Thaindire towards the massed rank of imps and their leader.

  “ Do not harm him,” he heard Reznik command as he galloped towards his foe. Thaindire held his sword aloft, the traces of energy curling about it, crackling and spitting, his cloak flowing behind him as the imps surged forward, a dark tide of malevolence. Their snarling and hissing filled the air as they shot forward with horrifying speed towards Thaindire and his steed. Reznik remained unmoved. Thaindire quickly realised that he would not reach the soldier before he and the imps collided, he only hoped his momentum would carry him through the imps and enable him to engage the Captain with one decapitating swipe of his blade.

  The imps were almost upon him, a group either side, none of them seeking to stand in the way of his charge. Closer they came, so he could see their evil, slit yellow eyes and beady pupils. One leapt high and bounded onto the horse’s neck in front of him, in a repeat of the assault when he was making his way to Aftlain. Thaindire swung and the arcing blade sliced straight through the imp, which immediately turned to dust. His horse cried out in pain as its legs buckled as the imps sliced all four legs at once, their talons raking deep into the flesh of the horse. Thaindire remained in the saddle as it went down, he pitched to the left and struck out at an imp nearby, his holy blade cleaving the foul creature through its head and it too turned into dust. Thaindire had no choice but to jump clear of the fallen steed or be trapped under it. He leapt to the left and landed on the dirt road, rolling over once and springing to his feet. Standing, he saw two imps slash the throat of the horse, two spurting jets of blood erupting from its torn throat as the fallen mount spasmed in its last paroxysms of life.

  Thaindire yelled and lashed out at another imp, which was nearest to him, the blade cut into its side causing it to fall to the ground writhing in pain. He stepped forward and chopped at it again, this time the imp slumped to the road turning into merely dust. Thaindire righted himself as the remaining seventeen imps encircled him. They were just out of reach of the arc of his sword but there was no doubting that they wished to tear him apart, talons exposed and ready. Reznik sauntered forward, casually swinging his sword by his side, making a tutting noise.

  “ Witch Finder Thaindire, fancy trying to leave us behind and after we have been so hospitable to you,” he announced.

  “ Damn you Reznik,” spat Thaindire.

  “ Too late for that,” laughed the soldier. “ Lower your sword and surrender to me or I will release my underlings and we both know you will not survive, notwithstanding your ability.”

  As if to underline Reznik’s instruction, an imp moved forward slightly, drool spilling from its open mouth, a determined hiss accompanying its threatening stance.

  “ And if I surrender?” asked Thaindire keeping his long sword high and readied.

  “ Then we return to Aftlain and you can do as you please, within reason.”

  “ Why are you so determined to keep me in this wretched place?” demanded Thaindire.

  “ I’ve told you this already, I want you by my side, you are far too great an asset to have torn to shreds on this road, but if you insist on trying to depart then that is what will happen, great shame that it will be.”

  “ You know that I will never submit to stand side by side with you Reznik.”

  Reznik sighed and gave a shrug.

  “ You say that now Thaindire but no man has unlimited resilience, everyone submits in the end, either that or they perish.”

  Thaindire eyed the menacing horde of imps. He knew they would be upon him in seconds and their numbers remained such that he would be overwhelmed, he was no fool having witnessed their method of attacking. He had no intention of being slain out here on the road, savagely killed like the horse he had been riding. He remained duty bound to reach the Order and report on this outpost of sin and report he would, he would find some way of escaping Aftlain and its clutches. An imp snarled, causing Thaindire to return from his thoughts. He looked back at the expectant Captain who had his sabre pointed down to the ground, his nonchalance most apparent.

  “ If I do surrender rather than drive this blade through you Reznik, I want information about this village.”

  Reznik shook his head.

  “ You are in no position to strike any bargain Witch Finder. Agree to join me and take an oath to protect Aftlain and you shall be privy to everything there is to know about Aftlain.”

  Thaindire raised his eyebrows. Could he falsely take such an oath to garner more information about the village? He was uncertain. Given the way the village sought to wrap its insidious tendrils about him, he suspected that uttering such an oath would have deep-rooted consequences for him, ones which he would be unable to renege upon. No, he had to remain true to the Order

  “ You know I am forbidden to take any oath other than that to my Order.” Thaindire replied.

  “ That is a matter for your conscience,” responded Reznik.

  “ And my conscience remains most firm on the subject.”

  “ For the time being,” answered Reznik.

  “ You seem very confident that I will yield to whatever hold it is that this village has over its inhabitants.”

  “ That is because everyone does yield, most do so willingly having sought our sanctuary. A handful need longer to, shall we say, appreciate what Aftlain has to offer its inhabitants. That’s why I want you to surrender so you can stay and truly get to know the village.”

  The imps continued to wait albeit displaying obvious signs of impatience, their bodies swaying. Thaindire wondered how Reznik controlled the beasts and assumed it was by exercising some dark art. He suspected he would need to find some way of breaking this control if he were to manage to depart from Aftlain, as Reznik and his underlings were certainly the guardians of the village and its boundary. Thaindire looked to the soldier once again who was regarding him impassively, as if he was staring out of a window admiring the view.

  “ Very well,” declared Thaindire as he placed his blade in its scabbard, “ we return to the village.”

  “ An excellent choice,” smiled Reznik. The semi-circle of savage imps moved back from Thaindire.

  “ Lead on,” offered Reznik with a wave of his sabre in the
direction of the village. Thaindire paused and then began to walk towards the village, the imps remaining motionless allowing him to pass. He followed the sloping road back to the village, occasionally looking over his shoulder to find Reznik sauntering along the road, the imps ambling before him like a pack of dogs being taken for a walk. Thaindire kept walking, the trees leaning over the road, forming a canopy of empty branches; the coloured leaves collecting by the wayside of the road.

  He emerged into the square and saw that a group of villagers was stood around the well, engaged in animated discussion, but the low murmur of conversation died once Thaindire came into view. He could see Dromgoole stood to the right, with Ansell Redway the smith towering over his neighbours. Priestcote was there, as was Metylda Meverel, clearly his attempted escape proving sufficient salacious gossip to cause them to leave their home together. He expected to be met by the brother knights high on their horses but there was nothing to be seen of the Pennant brothers.

  “ Has he taken an oath?” cried a voice and Thaindire observed that it came from Thorne who stepped from between two farmers, her long petal dress coloured a flaming orange.

  “ No, he has not,” shouted Reznik causing Thaindire to turn to look at him. The soldier was alone, the imps having vanished once again. A loud cheer went up from the congregated villagers at this announcement and Thaindire frowned at their reaction. He carefully regarded the soldier. Reznik had sheathed his sabre and was barely a few yards from Thaindire. Could he strike him down before he could summon the imps? He had no way of knowing how the assembly of villagers would react, but he saw no evidence of arms and besides they were further away from him than Reznik. If he struck fast and true, he could bring down the Captain and head away up the road once more, it would be on foot, but he would have to take that chance once he had dispatched the village’s guardian.

  “ Samael,” cried a familiar voice and Kathryn came running from the crowd towards him as Reznik veered away to the left, out of the arc of Thaindire’s long sword now he had been distracted by the landlord’s daughter. She caught up with him, wrapping her arms about his neck and placing a firm kiss on his lips as he tried to back away. Kathryn moved her face away from his, the usual tidal wave of scent enveloping him.