"Surely," Sheila said under her breath.
"Surely," Ullin said to Robby. "Her father and mother had no sons to send to Duinnor to serve the King, and had to pay heavy tribute instead. The Fairoak lands were later laid waste by war, and when our grandfather met Lady Kahryna of Fairoak, that House was all but ruined and bankrupt. The two married, but things went badly for Tallin lands in Vanara, too, as a result of the wars with the Dragonkind. So Fairoak and Tallin signed the last of their Vanaran lands over to the King, and my grandfather brought his family back to the Eastlands, to Tallinvale. So bitter was our grandfather that he cut all ties to Vanara and Duinnor alike, and he swore he would have no more to do with the troubles of the west. But my uncle, his eldest son, Dalvenpar, was soon of age and was called to serve the King of Duinnor, as had our grandfather, as Kingsman. He went willingly, though our grandfather was against his going, and Dalvenpar served with distinction for many years. But then news came that he was slain. Such was our grandmother's misery, I was told, that all of the spring blooms on all the lands of our estate withered and fell away at her mourning. A shade, they say, covered the night so that no stars could be seen, and the summer air of our lands was cold and foggy while all those lands around enjoyed the light and warmth that is expected of the season. Anyway, that was the tale.
"Then a messenger came with summons for my father to take his brother's place in the service of the King. One year and one day, he was given, before he was to report to Duinnor. I was very small, but I remember, all during that year, my father prepared himself gladly, and my mother supported him as cheerfully as she could. Lord Tallin, our grandfather, opposed his going, too, just as he had opposed his first born son's service. Lord Tallin was wealthy enough to pay the heavy fines, and he demanded that my father stay in Tallinvale and refuse the call of duty. But my father wanted not only the honor of service, but also vengeance for his brother's death. Our grandmother, though, succumbed to her grief and went mad, tearing at her clothes and mourning for my father as if he was dead. Grandfather locked her away in the east tower of the hall and set a watch to keep her from harming herself, and to provide for her needs. She became a kind of prisoner and was allowed to see no one else, save grandfather, alone, who went to her each day and each night to see to her needs and to comfort her. Months passed and the day came for my father to depart. My grandfather took my father and me to see her, and she received us calmly and kindly, kissing my father many times, weeping all the while. She hugged me and told me to be strong for my father. It was all very quiet and very sad. As I said, I was very young, but I remember."
Ullin paused as they negotiated under low tree limbs.
"My father departed later that morning," he went on. "Then, on the next day, Mirabella disappeared, leaving a note that she, too, sought service as her brothers. Years later, I learned that she followed my father, remaining hidden from him and at a distance. She eluded the parties sent by Lord Tallin to bring her back, and she made it all the way to Duinnor, and took up training there, privately learning all she could about warcraft while her brother attended the King's Academy. Later, she somehow managed to join the Kingsmen armies going south, where she and my father fought side by side. She was with him when he died. It was she, Mirabella, who brought news of his death back to Tallinvale. Grandmother's hair, the color of polished copper, turned white at the news. She uttered a few words to our grandfather so that he turned pale even as his cheeks reddened with shame. I don't know what she said, but she never spoke again to anyone, as far as I know. She took to her bed, and our grandfather stayed at her bedside as she slept. She never again opened her eyes. By nightfall her spirit had left her body.
"For the next three weeks, our grandfather kept to himself, and I later heard that during that time it was feared that he had gone mad, for the servants reported that he raved, going from laughter to crying in an instant. It was said also that he would sometimes act as if he was in another place, speaking with people who were not there, or dressing in full battle gear, swinging his sword at imaginary enemies. But, at last, he emerged from his mourning, or his madness, and took up his duties as Lord of Tallinvale once again, and with an even greater zeal than ever before."
Although Ullin told his tale matter-of-factly, his companions felt its heaviness. For Robby, who had only the day before heard a version of the tale from his mother, it explained part of the reluctance of his parents to talk about his mother's side of the family.
"A sad tale," commented Makeig.
"And what of your mother?" Robby asked. "Does she still live in Tallinvale?"
"No. My father's death broke her heart, too. She remained in Tallin Hall for a time, then departed to rejoin her kin in Glareth. I went with her, but I came back later. I stayed at Tallinvale until I left for Duinnor to become a Kingsman."
"Do you ever get to see your mother?"
"Yes. I saw her just a few months ago, when I was in Glareth on the business of Queen Serith Ellyn. She is very frail. But we were very happy to see each other."
Ullin's tale left the group in a somber mood, and they went for a long while afterwards without saying anything. They made their way easily, led onward by Makeig's men who, Robby noticed, sometimes gave signals with their hands to unseen recipients. Makeig acted as if he barely noticed these gestures, but Robby realized that he was keenly aware of them, and he thought perhaps the Captain was pleased that their approach was being treated with such care.
"Captain Makeig, are your people always so cautious?" Robby asked him.
"Aye! Indeed we must be," Makeig stated. "With warlords all around, an' with rebel agents from Tracia comin' an' goin'. We know that if our harvest is too bountiful, or if we bring too much ore out from our mines, there's bound to be raids an' such. An' many of our folk're like me, wanted by the realm they fled from, though none of us are justly accused, I warrant. I meself have a bounty of one hundred pieces of gold on me, an' twenty-five on each of me crew what came with me. Treason, we're accused of. Treason! We who defended the rightful Rulin' Prince! So, aye, we're a careful lot!"
By this time Sir Sun had strolled below the western mountains, the sky above was a darkening blue with faint wisps of pink high and away, but the shadows were deep along the forest trail. Over a rise they came to a small gorge spanned by a long stone bridge barely wide enough for two men to walk abreast, yet Makeig and his man guided their horses straight onto it while Robby's mount hesitated and balked at the edge.
"Lead 'em over if ye have to," Makeig called back without turning. "It takes 'em a time or two to get used to it."
Robby dismounted and led his horse across. While the others followed Robby, Ullin told Ibin to wait.
"Billy and I will come back over and each take one of the packhorses," he explained.
It was a deep ravine with sharp rocks jutting up dimly far below, and though the bridge was solid enough, Robby felt a little off balance when a stiff wind suddenly picked up and blew crossways.
"There are many of these stone walk-bridges in the forest," Makeig explained as Robby finally stepped off the bridge and remounted to wait for the others. "Some fancier an' wider than this one, but many too crumbly to trust. Don't worry, this one's sturdy, an' a good place to set a watch." He nodded back up the rise, and Robby saw a small, squat hut of stone about fifty yards off on top of which were several men keeping an eye on them. "Wind seems always blowin' through here," Makeig observed to Ashlord coming up, "so we call this Windy Crossin'."
"A troll bridge?" Ashlord asked getting into his saddle.
"Aye, we believe so. More like a footbridge to a troll, I imagine. See here?" Makeig pointed down. "This here's another troll road, pickin' up on this side of the bridge. It'll go our way about two miles an' quit. See how neat the stones are laid? Hardly a crack between them."
Soon Ullin and Billy were across, along with Ibin, and after they retied the harnesses, the group set off again. By now there was a definite chill in the air, and even the character of
the forest seemed changed. The trees were old and thick and sparse of leaves, and only a few pines were seen at all. The stone roadway was well used and ran like a pale stream through the carpet of fallen leaves. They passed by many a troll house, low stone structures overgrown with ivy and brush, and in the tangle beside each was a massive stone just the shape and size to fit into each doorway, laying as if cast lightly aside. Even the roofs were made of stone slabs, roughly cut and laid out across the walls. There were no windows, and it was apparent that the ruins, as gloomy as they were, had never been cheerful. Billy shuddered at the thought of going inside one, yet he was curious, and Ibin once turned his horse aside to explore one, but Billy stopped him.
"No time for peekin' 'round," he said.
"Ain't nuthin' there anyways," said Makeig. "Like I said, just a few pieces of junk too heavy to lift."
The paved road ended, and the way became a path as before, and it took them winding along the side of the ridge, then it led them across an open field and straight to the base of a low cliff. There, the path proceeded into the gate of a keep set with stone in the wall of the cliff. Torches were already lit along the top of the wall where men stood watch. The gate was opened for them and as they passed into the keep they entered the mouth of a well-lit tunnel that was cut into the mountain. It was high enough to ride through and reminded Robby of the troll house where Billy had been taken. Except this one was better lit and not as smelly. The passage inclined upward, and the cobblestone floor rang loudly as they went, making it difficult to talk.
"Was this made by trolls?" Robby asked.
"Aye, for the most part," answered Makeig. "But we laid the cobblestones an' worked the braziers an' cut channels along the sides to let the water run out an' keep the road dry. We built the keep outside, too."
"It seems a long tunnel," commented Ullin.
"It is fair long, about a half-furlong. It gets pretty steep, so mind yerselves!"
Indeed it got steeper, and at one point Robby worried his horse might slip. But all their mounts were sure-footed, and they moved slowly along without incident. Still climbing and rounding a bend, they could see a purple sky through the opening above and ahead of them. When they emerged, they were on the top of a broad ridge. Above them on their right, lights from many buildings and houses glowed from a town that crowned a hill about a mile off. Between here and there, they passed through fields and farms, and several folk came from their houses to greet Makeig as he passed. The path took them gently along, crossing wooden bridges over swift-running streams, and soon they were riding through the main street of the small town, dogs barking at them, music coming from a tavern, and folks going about their evening chores before bedtime. Makeig took them on until they came to a large building of stone and logs, and there they stopped.
"This is our Great House," Makeig said. "It is where I stay when I ain't at me cottage, an' where we meet an' make our government, too."
"You have some kind of government?" Ullin asked.
"Aye, an' I'm the mayor. We got a sheriff, some judges, councilmen, clerks, an' even a jailor. There's the Council for Defense, the Council for Crops, Livestock, an' Commerce, an' the Roads an' Works Council, too. Purty much everone's on some kind of council or other."
"Impressive," said Ashlord.
"Well, we've been tryin' to get away from the thievin' line, if ye take me meanin', an' more into the real way of livin'," Makeig said as he dismounted. "But it ain't easy, what with warlords on two sides, an' enemy agents forever out to arrest any who try to trade with the south parts. Janhaven is about our only real partner in these parts. When the mountains are good to us, they yield good rubies an' other stones, so we've done trade with Glareth an' Duinnor, even, through roundabout ways. But we have to be independent-like, least-ways until there's some change in Tracia, which don't seem likely to happen all too soon. Here, let me men take yer horses. They'll get stabled right. We got some rooms inside where ye can stay the night. Meanwhiles, we'll have a pint or two over at the tavern whilst we round up this messenger feller."
"I'd rather we not make too much of a show of ourselves," Ashlord said.
"Ah, ye mean to keep yer business private-like. I understand," Makeig nodded, slapping Ashlord on the back. Ashlord winced as Makeig continued. "No problem. Ye ain't got that much to give away, do ye? Just wantin' a way west, is all. I'll send word for them Blaney brothers, too. Ye can ask them questions 'stead of the other way 'round."
As the horses were led away, they took their gear inside to a room that looked something like a barracks, with cots lined through it. Then Makeig led them back outside and down the way to the tavern, called the Green Sail. Soon they were settled at a table, and pitchers of beer were being put before them. It was a surprisingly well kept place, and there was a sense of pride in its decidedly nautical theme. Everywhere were ship's fittings, brass lanterns, blocks, netting, and swinging rudders served as doors. It soon came out that the barkeep, and master brewer, was a shipmate of Makeig's on many voyages and fell by the same fate as many of the others when the Royal Family was ousted. Most of the accoutrements were locally made or carefully collected over time from the gleanings of passersby or from Furaman's connections. At any rate, the beer was fine and the wear of the road was soon forgotten. The barkeep, under Makeig's orders, kept the travelers' table stocked with fresh pitchers, as well as fried potatoes and cheese, and he stoked up the fireplace. There were few locals and none asked any questions, though they were friendly enough and smiled and raised their own tankards to the strangers. But they kept an eye on Robby's group. Sheila, not exactly trusting, kept her face away from them and pulled her collar up. Billy prattled on about what adventures these folks must have, with Ibin nodding in agreement between gulps. Ullin and Ashlord were more restrained, saying little as they puffed their pipes and kept an eye on the door.
Soon enough, Makeig came in with another man, and at the sight of him, Ullin stood. The man was thin, but tall, and very pale in the face, with light almost yellow hair, and dressed in fine light armor. Seeing Ullin, he approached quickly and bowed.
"This here's the feller what come from Tallinvale to speak with ye," Makeig said.
"I am Tyrillick, of the House of Sycamore," said the man. His blond hair draped down across his shoulders, glistening in the light, and his blue eyes glittered with a repressed spirit. Though his build was slight, and he had the spryness of youth, his age was a mystery, his face at once young and ancient, as if it had known no change for a thousand years. "Are you Ullin Saheed Tallin?"
"I am." Ullin bowed.
"I am honored." Tyrillick returned the bow. "I am to escort one of your party to Tallin Hall. Your cousin, Robby. Is he here?"
"That is him," Ullin motioned at Robby who was by now standing across the table looking on.
"What business does my grandfather have with me?" Robby asked.
"I do not know what, if any, business he has with you. I am not in service to him, nor am I privy to his business. I serve and am sent by one who wishes to meet you at his estate. I am to say this to you..."
The words he then spoke were in the First Tongue, and everyone in Robby's party understood them instantly. Sheila slowly stood as an odd chill ran down her spine. Tyrillick's voice resounded in the same manner that Robby's words had done when he declared his love for her those many weeks ago. There was the same chiming sound, the same melancholy rhythm and intonations. But the message delivered by Tyrillick also carried a powerful counterpoint, like the distant clap of iron thunder resonating across the sky and through the earth.
The Bell of Attis loudly rings.
It raises stones and casts down kings.
The noise of the tavern slowly replaced the fading sound of Tyrillick's words. Ashlord and Robby glanced at each other. Whoever sent this messenger knew Robby to be the Bellringer. Makeig stood silent, baffled that he understood the haunting words, though they were in a tongue he had never before heard.
"Tallinvale is out
of our way," Ullin finally said, sharing the apprehension that suddenly gripped the group.
"We know your way lies west and that you must go with all speed," Tyrillick nodded. "It is not our intention to delay you unnecessarily."
"Can you but tell us who your master is?" Ashlord asked.
"I am not permitted to say, Collandoth," replied the messenger sharply with a mischievous glint in his eye. "But I offer this as a token of who sends me."
He took from his pouch a small box and drew forth a tiny crystal vial that glittered like a yellow jewel. He uncorked it, and a strange golden mist wafted out from the vial. With it floated an aroma like springtime along a mountain meadow full of blossoms and clean air and youth. They all felt refreshed and invigorated by the scent though it was so light and airy that it was barely a scent at all. Ashlord smiled and looked at Robby.
"No one knows the brewing of that perfume except one House of all those of the world," he said to Robby. "And it is wise that Tyrillick does not speak his master's name. I would encourage us to go there if at all possible, even if it is out of our way. But the decision is yours."
Robby looked at Ashlord, then at Ullin.
"We still need to meet with the Blaney brothers," said Robby. "So we cannot come right away."
"They'll be here soon," spoke up Makeig, who only now roused himself from a faraway daze brought on by the perfume. "Ye can't leave afore mornin', anyways. Ye need to rest."
"Rightly so," said Tyrillick. "Nor need all of you come. If you say you will come, and if Ullin Saheed will show you the way, then I will carry word ahead of you to make all ready."
Robby gave the group a questioning glance, but they were all silent, waiting for him to decide.
"I'll not commit any but myself and Ullin, if he will guide me," said Robby. "But I will come as soon as I can. How far is it from here?"
"One day, giving a swift horse no rest. Two, with ease."
Robby shook his head. He already had in mind one detour, to Tulith Morgair, that would cost them time.
The Nature of a Curse (Volume 2 of the Year of the Red Door) Page 9
