by Mark G Heath
“ What is going on here?” cried Thaindire.
All stood before him spun around at his question and Thaindire saw that the third figure was female, long brown hair falling around an oval shaped face whose eyes shifted from surprise to malice at Thaindire’s intervention.
“ Get it inside Hugh!” yelled the female. The miller motioned at the Homunculi who swarmed about the corpse, picking it up with their tiny yet strong hands.
“ What are you doing with this corpse?” demanded Thaindire stepping forward. The miller’s wife scurried away towards her house as Maunsell urged the Homunculi to hurry with their parcel of the body, only the third of the trio remained to confront Thaindire.
“ No further Witch Hunter,” spat the figure.
“ Who are you?”
“ Harriet Alluvior and I told you to come no further,” warned the woman again. Thaindire looked over her shoulder and he could see that the tiny men and their load were almost at the door of the mill, where the miller’s wife stood urging them to hurry with a frantic waving of her hands. The miller had stopped his retreat and stood halfway between his home and the advancing Thaindire as if uncertain whether to depart or remain with Alluvior.
“ What is your business with the body of Kendra Leventhorp, I demand to know. She had been committed to the river,” asked Thaindire as he continued to near the woman.
“ I warned you,” she said and waved her hands as if pushing something whilst crying out words that made no sense to Thaindire. A jet of water suddenly burst from the river and arced through the air slamming into Thaindire. He gasped as the cold, wet pillar of water crashed against him, knocking him off his feet and sending him skidding backwards. The concentration of water abated as swiftly as it had formed. Thaindire pushed his hair back, now slick with the water as he got to his feet. He drew his long sword, the pommel ablaze with a pulsing blue light.
“ Go Hugh go,” urged Alluvior as the miller looked on, still paralysed with indecision. The woman’s exhortation broke Maunsell from his frozen state and he turned and ran for the mill, his wife still stood at the door watching the confrontation.
Thaindire bore down on Alluvior as she repeated the movement with her hands and uttered her foul incantation. Thaindire saw the second pillar of water leap from the river. He pulled his cloak up and in front of him, as if to shield him from the torrent of liquid. The force of water struck the outstretched material, pounding against it and bouncing off the cloak. Thaindire kept his footing, remaining motionless as the weight of the water continued to batter him. The pressure faded and he lowered his cloak to see that Alluvior had opted to flee and was running away, not to the mill whose door was now closed, but rather alongside the mill, her dress flapping as she sprinted.
Thaindire immediately gave chase ignoring the miller and the host of Homunculi for now. He tore along a slight path that ran besides the mill and which then twisted up and away from the riverbank very steeply. Alluvior was certainly quick on her feet and she had already reached the top of the path. She halted momentarily and looked back down at Thaindire as he approached before she turned and disappeared from sight. The path rose up, following the same pattern as the riverbank, which created a gorge similar to the stretch of river by Tallow Bridge. Thaindire reached the top of the path and saw Alluvior still running away ahead of him. The path was now cut into the towering riverbank, which continued onwards and upwards above him. He glanced down at the river below, which was some thirty feet below him, the waters churning as they swiftly flowed by. Beyond Alluvior, Thaindire could see some kind of dwelling, which clung precariously onto the side of the embankment and looked as if it had actually been carved out of the rock itself. He ran once again, wary of missing his footing and falling into the river below. This caution slowed him somewhat and Alluvior opened up the gap between the two of them.
“ Halt, come back here!” yelled Thaindire more in desperation than expectation. Alluvior stopped and faced Thaindire. He saw her hands weaving through the air once again and he kept running, waiting for the third pillar of water to assail him. Down to his left he saw the body of water leaving the river but rather than travel towards him, the torrent instead climbed up into the air ahead and then arced downwards creating a waterfall which cascaded down onto the narrow pathway. Alluvior was lost from his sight, obscured by the waterfall. Thaindire neared it, the spray drifting over him. The waterfall was fierce, the water hammering into the rocky path. He edged closer looking for a way onwards. He could not climb around the enchanted body of water for the rocky embankment was sheer and impassable. He carefully toyed with tilting a run at the mass of water but reasoned it would knock him off balance, such was its force and into the river. With a cry of frustration, he sheathed his sword and turned around picking his way back to the flat riverbank near the mill.
Fuming, Thaindire marched towards the rear door of the mill and tried the handle. It was locked. He began to bang against the timber door with his fists and kicking at it also, but it would not yield.
“ Maunsell! Maunsell! Open this door!” bellowed Thaindire. No response came from within, as like some creature sniffing out its prey, Thaindire prowled the exterior of the mill. The windows were shuttered and afforded no entry as he made his way around to the front door. Again he battered the portal calling out for Maunsell to admit him but there was no reaction to his demands. Thaindire stood back from the door, his eyes scanning the front of the mill to see if anybody was watching him, but he could not see anyone.
“ Open this door Maunsell before I tear it down and drive my sword through your sorry neck!” threatened Thaindire. His voice echoed about the clearing before fading. There came no response.
“ Very well, you give me no alternative.”
Thaindire slammed his booted foot against the door. It shuddered under the impact. He raised his foot and brought it down hard again. There was a crack as part of the door began to weaken. He readied himself to drive another blow against the door but it was whipped open.
“ Stop! Stop!” came a shouted voice. Thaindire snapped his eyes open and Maunsell was stood in the doorway, his hands held in front of him, palms towards Thaindire.
“ Come out here,”ordered Thaindire lowering his blade. Maunsell obeyed and with tentative steps moved away from the mill. Thaindire walked across to him, sword still unsheathed and roughly grabbed the miller by his collar, holding the tip of his blade to his throat.
“ What are you doing with the body?” demanded Thaindire.
“ Please, please, don’t hurt me,” pleaded Maunsell.
“ The body, what are you doing with it?” snarled Thaindire.
“ Mistress Alluvior needed it, she and Master Grimoult need it.”
“ For what? What do they need it for?”
“ I don’t know. I was just to oversee its collection from the river. That is the truth.”
“ Hugh!” cried the miller’s wife as she appeared at the doorway, alarmed at seeing her husband on the end of Thaindire’s sword.
“ Who is Alluvior?” pressed Thaindire. Maunsell frowned in confusion.
“ She is a neighbour. Lives further up the riverbank, along the path,” he explained.
“ I saw that, I mean what does she do?”
“ She brings fish for the village. “
“ A fishmonger? You take me for a fool miller!” growled Thaindire.
“ No, no, she does. She sets nets from her home and catches the fish.”
“ So what is this catcher of fish wanting with the corpse of Kendra Leventhorpe then?”
“ You will have to ask her, she just said that she and Master Grimoult needed it, that he was sending his helpers to guide it from the water and I was to ensure it was lifted out and then conveyed to Mistress Alluvior.”
“ Like you oversaw the cutting out of some poor unfortunate’s heart too?” quizzed Thaindire. “ I think you are embedded in their conspiracy of darkness too. What say I run you through now?” threatened Thaindi
re.
“ No!” cried the miller’s wife dropping to her knees in anguish.
“ No Master Thaindire, I just do as I am asked. We are the only ones who live near the low point on the water so from time to time we are called upon to extract things from the river, if we can.”
“ Such as?”
“ It varies, the instructions come from Mistress Alluvior or sometimes Master Grimoult, they know more of what the river brings than we do.”
“ Where’s the body now?” demanded Thaindire.
“ Through there,” answered the miller waving a limp arm towards the mill. Thaindire shoved him roughly aside, knocking the fearful man to the floor. He strode past the sobbing wife and entered the mill. Immediately ahead was a set of stairs leading upwards. To the left were the workings of the mill, the various cogs and wheels attached to the great waterwheel on the outside of the mill. Straight ahead, through the bowels of the mill, was the rear door, which was wide open.
“ Damn!” cursed Thaindire. He pushed through the mill interior and emerged from the rear. Up ahead he saw the detachment of Homunculi round the top of the path, the corpse borne between them. Cursing, Thaindire set off after them, running up the steep path, his legs beginning to ache, his pants wet and clinging to his thighs. Breathing fast he reached the top of the pathway, chest heaving from the exertion as he saw the Homunculi reach the still cascading waterfall. They did not break their stride as the water parted, like a pair of curtains being drawn apart, admitting the tiny men and their parcel, before closing once again, blocking the way forward.
Thaindire stood panting, his breath hard and ragged, watching as the waterfall remained in place. He knew that so long as he was here, the water enchantment would remain in place. Still, this Alluvior would join the lengthening list of those would receive judgement when he returned bolstered with his fellow Witch Hunters. His breath returning, Thaindire made his way down the steep path once again. He started to shiver, the effect of the cold air and his drenched state. He walked past the mill, the miller and his wife having disappeared inside again. He pondered what Grimoult and Alluvior wanted with Leventhorp’s corpse. They clearly knew that it was being committed to the water, no doubt that foul abomination, Campion, had alerted them to it being dropped into the river so they could collect it. Thaindire fumbled as he tried to replace his long sword back in the scabbard, the cold causing his fingers to tremble and the sword to shake. With an effort, he slid the blade back into its holder and paced across the glade to the lane beyond. He needed to return to the tavern and remove his sodden clothing and warm himself before the fire. The sky was beginning to dim in colour and evening was approaching, there would be little more he could do about this village until he was dry and rested. He was determined to unearth the secrets, which Aftlain was still maintaining and then he would leave aboard Lancaster’s coach and nobody would stop them leaving this time. He would devise a method of removing Reznik from the equation so that the villager’s self-appointed guardian was ineffectual and thus his wretched imps similarly hamstrung. Yes, he needed to incapacitate the Captain in the next week to guarantee that his departure was not impeded. He did not regard anyone else within the village likely to want to try and stop him departing. There were the brother knights but he had only seen them attend the village once and they seemed content to oversee Aftlain from wherever it was that they resided, rather than attend the village regularly or indeed live within it. No, Captain Reznik was the lynchpin to his escape, deal with him and he would be dashing from Aftlain no doubt aboard a sumptuous coach and bound for Lancester and his Order. With such plotting at the foremost of his mind, Thaindire trudge through the village making his way back to the tavern and the promise of warmth.
Chapter Twenty-Six
By the time Thaindire reached the Last One Inn, the wet and the cold, left him barely able to move. With each step he had taken from the river, the chill had sunk deeper into his flesh, slowing his movement and causing his breathing to labour. Stiffness had taken hold of him, his fingers taking on a blue tinge as he battled to keep going. With a shaking hand he tried to grasp the handle but his numbed fingers ineffectually slithered against the hard iron of the handle.
“ Here, let me,” said a voice beside him and Thaindire slowly swivelled his eyes to see the farmer, Senechal who he had met some days ago, grasp the handle and turn it whilst slipping an arm around Thaindire, who could barely nod his thanks.
On the threshold of the inn, his legs gave and despite the assistance of Senechal, he dropped down to the floor, trying to curl into a ball as if that would preserve the last of the heat within his body.
“ Samael!” cried Kathryn immediately dashing to his side.
“ What happened to him?” she asked Senechal.
“ No idea. I was just coming to the tavern and saw him walking like an old man across the square. He is soaked to the skin.”
“ Father!” shouted Kathryn. “ Here, help me get him to my room, my fire is well stoked for him.”
“ What is it?” asked Benjamin Dromgoole as he appeared from the rear of the tavern. “ It’s Samael, he is frozen and soaked,” explained Kathryn placing a hand to his cheek, feeling the iciness of his skin.
“ Help Fenton get him up,” she ordered. The landlord lumbered forward and just as he had carried Thaindire when he arrived at Aftlain, placed his broad shoulder under Thaindire’s right arm whilst the sturdy Senechal did the same on the other side. Thaindire felt his head loll to one side, his vision beginning to blur and a strange rushing noise filled his ears.
The two men hastily carried up the stairs and into Kathryn’s room where she was already waiting.
“ Put him on the chair,” she instructed, moving a large, high backed chair in front of the fire. Dromgoole and Senechal carefully placed him on the chair, taking care not to let him slide off. Thaindire slumped against the wood, his limbs shaking uncontrollably.
“ What on earth happened?” asked Kathryn her voice edged with concern as she removed his cloak, tossing it to one side. Grunting, she heaved his sodden tunic off over his head, letting the wet garment slap to the floor. Next her nimble fingers unbuckled his belt, letting his scabbarded sword fall away as she unbuttoned his trousers. Thaindire felt his boots being removed and then he was lifted slightly and jolted as Kathryn pulled down his pants.
“ Bring me some Firebrandy, father,” asked Kathryn.
“ Right. Come on Fenton, you’ve done your bit,” responded the landlord.
Thaindire felt something rough buffeting him as Kathryn dried him down with a rag and then a blanket was placed around him, then another about his legs. He could see a blur of orange and yellow in front of him but felt no heat from the fire, only a deep, deep cold that snatched at his soul. His head ached, as if any icy tendril was wrapped around it, the chill circling his brow and then driving down his face.
A glass was raised to his mouth and his teeth rattled against it as he opened his mouth, somebody’s hand cupping the underside of his jaw and then a liquid spilled into his mouth. The glass continued to be tipped and the liquid kept flowing as he swallowed and a great gulp of Firebrandy travelled down his throat. The glass was removed and his lips gently wiped.
Still he shook, his legs felt leaden, his arms heavy and useless by his sides. The blanket was pulled back from his chest and a hand, the lightness of touch suggested that it was Kathryn, began to rub something onto him. Within seconds he felt a slight tingle and then a ripple before a sudden surge began in his stomach and started to radiate out from it. Delicious warmth slowly made its way from his innards, travelling outwards, combined with a second patch of heat about his chest. Thaindire gave out a low moan as the numbness started to recede under the onslaught of heat. It percolated into his arms and then he could feel a sensation in his fingers, which he slowly flexed. The warmth made its way up over his face, feeling like a strong flush of embarrassment until he was enveloped in waves of warmth that washed up and down across his entir
e body. Elated at the pain having been eradicated, he lifted his head and opened his eyes, his vision now clear. He blinked once, then again, his sharp blue eyes focussing on the room as he then felt the heat of the fire before him.
“ What was that?” he asked slowly.
“ A generous measure of Firebrandy, it really is quite marvellous and then the application of Therum’s Balm on your chest to aid the warming. You will need to stay by the fire until you are properly warmed; the Firebrandy and the balm were to stop you falling into a stupor with the cold,” explained Kathryn tapping a circular pot which she held in her hands. She set the pot down on the mantelpiece and turned her concerned gaze on Thaindire.
“ So, what happened to get you in that state?” she asked.
“ The river.”
“ The river? You fell in?”
