The Nature of a Curse (Volume 2 of the Year of the Red Door)

by William Timothy Murray

  "What do you say?" asked Ullin, accepting a bowl from Ashlord who shrugged.

  "I say it does continue, from the time of the Fall of the Faere. People seldom resolve their differences until they see that it is in their interest to do so. And even then it is difficult. Peace requires a greater valor than war, the valor to lay aside pride, to resist retribution, and it requires the courage to forgive. I think we are coming once more into a time of great strife. But also," he smiled at Robby, "perhaps a time of great hope."

  "The Dragonfolk, Redvests, warlords, an unwillin' Duinnor, an' some unknown place we mean to go to, right through the middle of all that," stated Billy. "Very hopeful, indeed!"

  Ullin smiled. "You're as glum as an elf!"

  "I thought elves were a merry folk," said Sheila.

  "You have not known many of the Elifaen," put in Ashlord, handing her a steaming bowl.

  "Well, then, you're one to say so," she said back to Ullin. "After your gloomy story!"

  Ullin nodded, but said nothing.

  "I'm sorry," she immediately said. "That was thoughtless of me."

  Ullin shrugged.

  "Ullin is a fair judge of gloom," Ashlord said so that only Sheila could hear. "As are you, somewhat."

  Sheila did not look at Ashlord, or at anyone else, and took another small sip of the broth. Pondering Ashlord's mild rebuke, she placed it down carefully and stood.

  "Please excuse me," she said, and she went to her bedroll and made it ready. Then, still in thought, she went to the horses, to give them a little petting. Robby watched her, knowing that she still mourned, that she still suffered from rebuke and rejection, from years of having no friends and little help. In Robby's mind, it was as if the beatings of Steggan continued. He was somewhat amazed that the goodness of her heart still endured, in spite of her years of torment, and even though that torment continued. Robby turned back and caught Ashlord looking across the fire at him. Ashlord turned his attention back to the pot, a mild smile crossing his lips, as Robby wondered about the mystic's influence on Sheila, about the profound change in her, her speech, her bearing, her patience. In so many ways, and in spite of what Sheila often said, Robby felt as if it was she, and not he, who was the worthier person.

  • • •

  Soon their supper was finished, and, satisfied with their meal and feeling the wear of the day upon them, they bundled into their bedrolls for the night. It was agreed that Ullin would take the first watch and each would be awakened for their turn as it came. Billy was soon settled, and Ibin was snoring gently nearby. Sheila made her bed against Robby, some distance from the fire, while Ashlord sat and smoked his pipe and stared at the flames, eyes squinting, but with a flickering gleam showing. Ullin moved away to the promontory and sat on a stone, gazing at a faint glimmer from distant Tallin Hall before the evening mist settled into the valley and obscured the light. Still, the stars shown brightly overhead, and Ullin watched their movements, hearing nothing more threatening than a night bird's song and the chirp of crickets. Only once was he startled at the nearby flutter of wings, but, turning quickly, he saw a little shape land on Ashlord's shoulder.

  So Ullin's watch passed easily and peacefully, as would each of the other's in turn. Ibin and Billy would share the next, followed by Sheila, and the last watch was to be Robby's. Each spent their time in quiet and watchful contemplation under the starry sky, and the troubles of the world, before and behind them, seemed just as distant and detached. As Ibin and Billy chatted in low indiscernible tones, Robby and Sheila snuggled together, he more uncomfortable than she on the hard ground. But after only a little tossing and pulling the blankets back and forth against the chilly air, they both fell asleep, she to dark dreams oft-repeated, and he with mixed images of his father passing through a misty wood and his mother sitting in their parlor back in Passdale. After those visions passed, both fell into the deepest slumber, without disturbance of mind or heart. It was after a long while that Robby mentally stirred, a strange feeling overcoming him, and he found himself standing up, staring across the low burning embers of the fire at Ashlord, who puffed gently on his pipe without taking notice of him. Blinking, Robby rubbed his eyes, trying to get at the sand that strangely blurred his vision. As his vision seem to clear, an odd light illuminated all, yet the moon was too low behind the western hill to be the source, and the low fire gave only a sparse reddish glow. A shape moved on the ground to the left of the fire, in the corner of his vision, and he turned and saw Ullin stirring under a blanket. Between Robby and the fire slept Billy and Ibin, and beyond Ashlord was the distinct shape of Sheila sitting some distance away on the ground at the promontory. He felt lightheaded and almost airy. He had no sense of fear or danger, but things did not seem quite right, and he was filled with a bewildered concern. Taking a step toward Sheila, a falling, lunging sensation overwhelmed him. He threw his arms out to catch himself, but no sooner than he reacted than he found himself standing right beside her, two dozen yards away just a heartbeat ago. Blinking away a dizzy spell, his heart began to thump.

  "Am I drunk?" he asked himself out loud. His voice surprised him as it shattered the stillness. Sheila did not stir. She sat easily, staring at the distant horizon where bright Therepolon, the yellow wanderer, was hanging low over the dim valley.

  "Sheila," he said. Still she did not stir. As he so often was, he was struck by her beauty, and he reached out to touch her and to brush away the hair that fell across her brow. He stopped, aghast at the appearance of his own hand, for it was glowing with a pale blue light, rippling like water across his skin. Raising his palm to his face and turning his hand back and forth, he was nearly spellbound by the light. Suddenly, his perception cleared even more, the glow disappeared, and his own flesh and all else gained their natural colors.

  Sensing a movement, Robby turned abruptly and saw Ashlord, who was now staring toward him, but as if he was looking through him, not at him. Ashlord shifted his gaze back to the fire. Robby began to realize what was happening. His heart thumped nervously, and he looked across the fire toward where he had first stood. There he saw a shape on the ground, bundled in blankets. Quickly he counted his mates and missed none. Wondering who the stranger was, yet fearful of knowing, he made to approach. After another brief sensation of falling—this time akin to sliding rapidly forward—he stood over the sleeper. Cautiously, he reached down to pull the blankets from around the face, but as he did so, he felt a queer sensation of fabric rub across his cheeks and that of butterfly-wings fluttering across his eyes and nose. His heart skipped as he saw his own face. At that very moment he sensed another form standing a few feet away. As he turned to this new figure, he seemed to lose consciousness and a profound dizziness overcame him.

  "Wake up!"

  Robby struggled to throw off the hands that pulled at his blanket. Sitting up with a jerk, he stared into the astonished face of Sheila, recoiling from him, on her knees beside him and holding the edge of his blanket.

  "It is time for your watch, Robby," she said in a low voice. "Are you alright?"

  Robby rubbed his eyes, saying, "Yes, yes. Just dreaming."

  "Well, it's my turn to dream for awhile," she said. "And I'll have your warm blankets, if you don't mind."

  They kissed, and Robby put his arms around her to draw her down to him, but she resisted.

  "You must stand watch, and I must sleep!" she scolded him tenderly.

  "Yes, yes," he answered, struggling to his feet. "Yes, alright. I know."

  He stood and stretched as Sheila took his place. Ashlord was still sitting before the fire, his eyes still open, and Certina was perched on his shoulder, preening. Ashlord absentmindedly sucked on a long-cold pipe, but never moved his gaze from the dwindling fire. Robby added a little more fuel, being careful not to disturb the mystic. So, taking up his duties, he walked around the camp, listening and watchful, quickly growing accustomed to the peace and quiet, still wondering about his strange dream. The dream that seemed something other than a
dream. He remembered what the Dragonkind woman, Micerea, had told him, "All creatures have this power. They need only to find it."

  During the first hour or so of his watch, he tried to shake the strange dream from his thoughts, its odd sensations lingering in his heart. But then a peaceful mood came to him just as it had with the others who had their watch before him. He slowly walked back to the promontory to gaze across the dark and misty valley, feeling apart from all happenings upon the earth. Yet, as he sat on the same stone that Ullin had earlier occupied, the place where Sheila had been just a little while ago, he felt also the weight of so much change happening so quickly. He wondered again whether those changes were only in the world, or within himself, too. He was still thinking on this a couple of hours later when Ullin rose from his sleep and approached.

  "Good morning," Robby said to him.

  "Morning."

  "Is it time we were up?"

  "I think so. It looks like a foggy dawn."

  "Indeed, it was misty when I came on watch and now the land below is blanketed."

  Robby had wrapped a cloak around himself to keep warm during his stint and now it was wet with dew.

  "These mists are common to the valley," said Ullin. "You have never been here?"

  "Once, but I do not remember it. I was only a baby, and my parents brought me to see Lord Tallin. To show off the new baby, I suppose. I don't guess it went very well."

  "I imagine it went well enough," Ullin said, gazing at the shrouded valley. "Our grandfather is a hard one. Difficult to fathom. As you know, your mother was fairly banished when she and Robigor wed."

  "Yes. I don't suppose my reception will be a warm one, then."

  "Nor mine, I don't think, so you won't be alone in that, at least."

  "Why is that?"

  "I'm not sure," Ullin shook his head and sighed. "Too much heartbreak, perhaps. Too many harsh words, ill-considered and unkind. His. Mine."

  "He did not want you to go to Duinnor?"

  "No. He wanted me to go to Glareth and to enlist into the service of Ruling Prince Carbane. You see, by an act of Duinnor it was agreed that no one serving the Royal House of Glareth would be required to enter into service of Duinnor. But I refused. I was foolish, perhaps, but I wanted to take my father's place among the Kingsmen of Duinnor. Perhaps to find vengeance against the Dragonkind for his death. Maybe I just wanted to be like him."

  "And you said yesterday that your father's death was a mortal blow to your grandmother," Robby said.

  "Yes, it was."

  "Surely it was out of his fear for you that our grandfather wanted you to go to Glareth."

  "Certainly. I admit that, now. But that was long ago, and things are the way they are, not as they might have been. We must make the best of what we cannot change. Besides, had I never gone to Duinnor, I may never have met Ashlord, and would probably not be with you now."

  "Is that a good thing?"

  Ullin laughed, "Of course! Now I have a chance to serve kith, kin, and King, too. Maybe even to help right old wrongs, if you turn out to be a good ruler."

  Now Robby laughed, "Let's not get ahead of ourselves!"

  Ullin laughed again and pulled Robby close by the shoulder.

  "Why don't you rekindle the fire for a breakfast while I rouse the others and prepare the horses."

  • • •

  Soon, their hot breakfast of coffee, fried sausage, and potato hash, and an apple each was eaten, and their cookwares were cleaned and packed. All were anxious to be on their way, rested and in good spirits. After their first night on the ground, none of them were without aches, but, though there was much stretching and a little groaning, none of them complained. They knew this was only the first of many such nights to come. Ullin saw their stiffness and smiled.

  "In the future, it may be better if you spent some time piling pine straw, fern thatch, or leaves into a mound to put your blankets on," he suggested. "It will make the ground somewhat softer and a great deal warmer."

  Billy looked at Ullin, then at Robby.

  "Now he tells us."

  Chapter 5

  An Uncomfortable Interview

  Day 87

  158 Days Remaining

  They started out before sunrise and found their way back to the road for the final short leg. It remained misty, and the forest birds were waking from slumber even after the sun had risen, and the clop of hooves seemed a loud intrusion on the sleepy morning. The road carried them up and down gently, but they could see little in the gray air, and Robby could not tell if they climbed more than they descended. Even though the sky grew brighter, the cool air barely moved at all. They could sense occupation around them, smoke from kindled hearths, the clank of a harness being hitched away to the left, the closing of a door from somewhere ahead, and the cry of a distant cock. They passed a few cottages, attended by their owners, chopping wood outside, or drawing water, or taking out the chamber pots. All eyed the travelers suspiciously, but without greeting or challenge other than the occasional civil wave. The mists evaporated somewhat, and they could see a gentle rise before them, leading between two fields, and then more steeply upward through a sparse wood. Suddenly the way was open, and the road turned, curving downhill. There lay Tallinvale, a patchwork valley widening into the distance between bordering hills, plaid with lines and squares and other shapes. The fields directly below were crisscrossed with stone-laid canals feeding the neatly ordered fields and orchards as well as the moats bounding the city walls, less than a half-mile from the bluff where the company paused to look.

  Tallin Hall with its graceful spires predated the walled city that surrounded it. They could see that the city was about a half mile or less from its center to each of the four walls that enclosed the town. The ramparts were of gray polished stone and on this, the north side, they loomed three stories high, topped with tall battlements. Where each wall joined one to another, a watchtower jutted up. Yet the graceful domes and spires of Tallin Hall, away on the far side of the city, stood in contrast to the stern city walls; it was a banner-bedecked structure of a light tan complexion, roofed in green copper, with ample windows of gleaming glass. Iron and stone balconies flew gracefully from its five spires and its highest stories. Four of the spires were at corners of the structure, slim turrets, topped with tapered roofs of green copper. The fifth, standing three times the diameter of the others and somewhat higher, was otherwise of the same design but located midway on the western side of the Hall.

  It was a striking view, indeed, looking as they did from the wooded heights while the morning mists rose up over the fields. Here and there, the early golden sun broke the vapors apart, and a gentle breeze pushed them away so that the glint of glass and the fluttering of pennants on the battlements and spire-tops gave the place something of the inviting aspect that it must have once known in happier days when the Hall was full of children and laughter and song. Sir Sun, as if turning over in his bed after a sleepy look about, pulled the skyward sheets back up around his crown and disappeared once more into the pillowy mists. Thus, the scene returned to its somber if not sullen appearance, as if a great sigh was heaved after a brief happy thought.

  "Home," Ullin said.

  He dismounted.

  "I think it would be better if Ashlord took lead of our company while we are here," he said. "I am a King's soldier, and here, though I be kin and kith, I should expect no rank or station other than that of my Duinnor commission. In truth, I do not know what to expect in the way of greeting or hospitality."

  Ashlord nodded as Ullin led his horse aside and, with long practice, rechecked his cinches and straps as he did every time he dismounted.

  "Even though we do not come here to meet Lord Tallin, we must present ourselves before him, as is customary and courteous," Ashlord said to the group. "You may as well know that Lord Tallin is a brooding and somewhat resentful man these last many years. It has been a long time—well before your father's time, Robby—since visitors to Tallin Hall rece
ived much welcome. Though the hospitality shown to us will be correct, it will likely be somewhat cool. I beg you, do not speak to Lord Tallin or any of his counselors or courtiers unless they bid you do so. And then, keep your answers short. He is a shrewd man. If he desires, he will have more out of you than would be wise to reveal. I will speak for us when I may. Those we are to meet here may be his guests, but we cannot know on what terms they may be here. And we should not presume that Lord Tallin knows any of their business with Robby. Let us hope we meet with Lord Tallin first, while we ourselves are innocent of that business, rather than afterwards when we may be indiscreet."

  "Do you know who it is that asked us here?" Sheila queried.

  "I have guessed, but I have no certainty," Ashlord told her. "And, remember, it was Robby who was bid come. The rest of us were not asked and may not be expected. Whoever it is that invited Robby may not wish us to be there. We will just have to see what unfolds."

  Ashlord nudged his horse onward, Ullin remounted, and they followed after, descending onto the valley floor and through a high vine-covered iron archway. The road led them through fields, orchards and vineyards, bearing straight through the center of the valley, toward the north gate of the city. They crossed over narrow stone bridges that spanned the network of canals. Looking down into one as he crossed, Robby was surprised at how deep it appeared, the water dark and slow-moving, the stone sides of the same gray polished granite, laid without mortar, as the city walls. It would be nigh impossible to climb out, he thought, if one were unlucky enough to fall in. The short bridges were also made of the same stone, each laid across an arched span. Jutting out of each span was an iron bar that extended into the side of the canal.

  "What are those iron bars for?" he asked, pointing to a bridge not far away that was parallel to the one they were crossing. "Do they help support the bridges?"