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

by William Timothy Murray

  "No," Ullin answered. "Quite the contrary. These canals bring water to the surrounding fields, but they also defend the town. The keystone of each bridge is attached to the end of one such bar as you see there. It is laid underground through a small tunnel. By a series of bars laid end to end through the small tunnels, they run back to the interior of the city walls. There, over the end of each run of bars, is poised a huge hanging hammer that will, when released, drive the bar and knock out the keystone, thereby collapsing the bridge. The other bridges, like the one over there, see it? They are made of wood. They are built so that the farmers may easily cross at various places to tend the orchards and fields, but they can be easily taken up if need be."

  "Oh."

  "Yes, an ingenious design copied from Heneil himself," Ullin went on. "He was one of the greatest builders, especially concerning fortifications. No stronghold built by his hand and manned by willing defenders has ever fallen."

  " 'Cept Tulith Attis," Billy said.

  "He did not build that place," Ashlord corrected him. "Only the inner chambers and workings. And it was by treachery, not by skill at arms, that Tulith Attis fell."

  "Oh. But these canals ain't very wide. Wouldn't ye just have to fill up the canals with rocks an' stones an' stuff?" Billy asked. "Make yer own bridge across, so to speak?"

  "That is ever pointed out to Lord Tallin," nodded Ullin. "But he always replies the same, 'Let them try.' "

  "Sounds like famous last words, Ullin. Has Tallinvale ever been attacked?" Sheila asked.

  "Never yet."

  At the next bridge Billy and Sheila fell back behind Ibin and Ullin, allowing Ashlord and Robby to have the lead. Billy nudged his horse nearer to Sheila.

  "They say the walls of this place rose overnight," he said to her softly, mindful of Ullin ahead of them.

  Sheila nodded. "I have heard it said so."

  "Aye, an' it's said that the master of this place made a dark pact to get it done," Billy added.

  "I never heard that," Sheila said skeptically.

  "Aye, it's said. Me mum told me so. She said it was done before the Lord Tallin brung his family eastward, an' that it was all done secret-like, to host an legion of warriors durin' a time of war, if need be. An' that the villages an' farmlands sprang up only afterwards, with folks feelin' safer under Lord Tallin's watch."

  Sheila admitted the walls looked beyond the skill of any she had ever imagined. They seemed to be made of a continuous polished rock, without seam or crack or any line where any stone was laid upon another. The sun broke through the hazy lifting mists and now the walls positively gleamed, so polished they were. "Hm," was all she said, but it was enough to embolden Billy, who nudged his horse up closer behind Ullin.

  "Ullin," Billy asked, "who built this place?"

  "Our ancestor, who was among the first Men to come to these shores, built the original Tallin Hall," he said, "near the beginning of this age."

  "But what about these walls?"

  Ullin looked right and left, as if examining the walls for the first time. He shrugged.

  "Lord Tallin will never say. But workers of Endeweir is what I have been told, master craftsmen employed by my grandfather in the years while our family lived in Vanara."

  "Endeweir? The ice people of the far north?"

  "Yes, that is what I was told. There are many other rumors and much speculation."

  "But they live far away, far beyond the lands of Glareth, do they not?" Sheila said.

  "They do. And they are not known for their stone craft."

  Though early, they could see activity on the parapets. At the open gate ahead stood a line of guards dressed in light green trimmed in gold with swords at their sides. A line of heavy lances stood against the inner wall of the arched entrance, and beside each was hung a shield for quick retrieval. Before the riders passed over the last canal, the guards neatly donned their shields, took up their lances, and lined across the drawbridge in two staggered ranks, each six men across. In front of them stood two figures, one tall and blond-bearded dressed like the other soldiers, but without shield or lance. He held his helmet under one arm while his other hand clutched the sword hilt at his side, impassively watching the company approach. The other man they easily recognized as Tyrillick. He stood with this arms crossed but with not so stern a look as his companions on the drawbridge.

  "Who goes!" the captain of the guard challenged.

  "Kingsman and company for the Hall!" answered Ullin from the rear of the group, dismounting and leading his horse forward.

  The rest dismounted also, and Ashlord said, "We are invited."

  But the captain's eyes were on the Kingsman.

  "For the Hall, Kingsman," he said loudly. "Let pass!"

  The captain stepped forward to Ullin with outstretched hand and a look of happy recognition while the ranks behind him parted to either side in well-practiced coordination.

  "Welcome, Lord Ullin Saheed!"

  "Weylan!" Ullin took the hand, and they clapped each other on the shoulders warmly. "So you are made captain?"

  "Aye, these six years ago, winter. Of the North Gatesmen. We were not expecting you, or else I would have made a proper welcome to Tallin the Younger!"

  "None of that! You know how things are. I am Kingsman, now. Seeing you is welcome aplenty."

  "Indeed," said Tyrillick, "only one was bid come."

  Ullin smiled at the blank-faced elf and said, "I came as guide to companions not easily parted from each other."

  "I see. Well. Lord Tallin has requested that you be shown to him as soon as you arrive. I informed him of a visitor, and he received word yesterday that your party was approaching."

  "Very well, then," Ashlord said, a bit impatiently. "Please lead us on."

  Captain Weylan nodded and turned sharply around, marching ahead of them.

  "Hono-o-or, STANCE!" Weylan ordered.

  The guardsmen snapped to attention, drawing their feet together and smartly bringing their lances at an angle against their shields with a saluting bang. The company passed under the portcullis and into the thick wall, going between the stern ranks, and each soldier in turn snapped his lance upright as Ullin passed. Ashlord noting this, smiled. Ullin remained expressionless, his eyes down.

  "I'll have your mounts and baggage seen to," said Weylan as they cleared the inner portcullis. He motioned over several men. "And perhaps I will see you later."

  "I hope so," replied Ullin, handing over his reins. "But, remember, here I am but a Kingsman."

  "Aye, sir. But a much honored one, long missed."

  • • •

  Within was the small city of Tallinvale. Brick and stone houses stood in orderly rows, and there were buildings of all shapes and sizes in the broad space bounded by the walls. Paved streets fanned away left and right between the buildings, and were full of activity all around, the sort that one might expect to find in any town—children playing, carpenters working, market stalls, craftsmen's shops, comings and goings, carts and wagons moving here and there. There was military activity, too, with men drilling upon the many large yards and tourney fields within sight. Scaffolding was erected in several places around the walls and great hoists were lifting nets and buckets of materials upwards to be unloaded onto the parapets. Robby eyed one gang of workers nearby who were attaching a heavy ballista, like a large bow, to the ropes of a nearby crane. On into the town, they passed out from between a row of buildings and into an open area where dozens of archers were drilling, releasing their arrows in volleys that whistled through the air, and the passersby could hear the drumming thump of them into their targets. On the other side of this field, there was a large foundry with anvils ringing away and smoke belching from bellowed furnaces. Tyrillick led on briskly, and they passed a cluster of glass-fronted shops and taverns. Through the windows of one, Billy saw workers pouring molten glass into molds. They kept for some distance along the straight way, seeing Tallin Hall rising ahead of them as they approached, its grace
ful towers watching over all.

  The old original walls still surrounded the estate, but were nearly invisible under the ivy that encased them. Robby's company passed through another gateway and onto the estate grounds, entering a very different kind of space than the town they had just passed through. Here, the hedge-bordered street was paved with small white gravel, and at regular intervals topiary archways on either side led out to the open grassy lawns of the estate. Looking through the archways as they went, they saw fruit trees on neatly trimmed lawns, banks of rose bushes, and islands of ornamental gardens. There were a few massive oaks with low, drooping limbs that spread out and nearly touched the ground, some of them dripping with long beards of swaying moss. Like an island, of sorts, of beauty out of place, it seemed to Robby, imbued with a restful feeling. The grace and calm seemed to emphasize a sense of isolation from the town. Yet here, too, was activity, though of a more domestic kind, with gardeners and groundskeepers busy at their trades.

  "My master is not yet arrived," Tyrillick said to Robby.

  "Surely you may tell us now who your master is? Now that we are here."

  "That will be revealed to you this evening, I imagine."

  Ullin, now at the rear of the group, kept his head down in contrast to the others who craned their necks this way and that to gape at the magnificence of the manor house, Tallin Hall. It was imposing, but without the sullen look that Robby imagined. Rather, with its tan stones and its graceful balconies and many windows, it seemed light and airy. And, though he saw arrow slits and other defensive aspects, the place appeared to have been built for comfort and pleasure. There was a side path that led away around to the back of the Hall, but Tyrillick kept them straight on to the front where a series of broad stairs took them up to a covered portico where tall doors were being opened as they neared. There emerged an older man of medium build, with long gray hair tied back in a ponytail and dressed in dark blue tunic and pants. Behind him stood another soldier, dressed very much like Weylan except with a black cape buckled to the shoulder straps of his breastplate. His beard was iron-gray, and his hair was shorn very close to his balding scalp. A third man appeared, thin and tall, wearing a fine black waistcoat, jacket, and breeches, and wearing polished black shoes with silver buckles underneath white silken stockings. He was clean shaven, his hair was white, and he looked to be in his seventies at least. His face, like the others, was blank, but it was not unpleasant, and his blue eyes sparkled like a distant lake in sunlight as he looked them over. The man in the blue tunic took a step forward.

  "Welcome to Tallin Hall," he said. "I am Dargul, counsel to Lord Tallin. This is Captain Bekund, of the House Guard, and this is Windard, Keeper of Tallin Hall. Windard will see you to your rooms later and will look after your needs during your stay."

  The soldier snapped a bow in military fashion. The elderly housekeeper made his bow, which was less distinct but somehow much more elegant.

  "I am Collandoth, called Ashlord by many," Ashlord motioned at Robby, "and this is Robby Ribbon, son of Robigor, of Passdale and Barley. And these others are our travel companions. Tyrillick, here, bid us come."

  "I am honored to meet you. Yes, you are expected," Dargul said, studying first Robby, then Ullin. "Will you please come this way?"

  "I will come to you later," Tyrillick said to Robby. "When it is time."

  Tyrillick turned and departed back the way they had come.

  Robby and his group followed Dargul on into the Hall and through a grand foyer with high arching ceilings, lit by glass skylights. Polished rose-colored marble clicked under their footsteps and the sound echoed from the wide walls. A curving staircase wound upward on either side to a high balcony overhead, but they were led straight on to a square gilded door, outside of which there was a table and four guards.

  "Visitors may not bear arms beyond this point," said Captain Bekund. "Save only the Kingsman who, by the King's Law, must be exempted."

  They deposited their weapons onto the table, and the visitors were each in turn inspected by Bekund. Robby was tempted to undo Swyncraff from around his waist and lay it on the table, too, but a light touch and a subtle shake of the head from Ashlord stopped him. Bekund hesitated when looking at Swyncraff, but quickly moved on.

  "Lord Tallin will see you now," said Dargul, nodding at the guards who pushed open the doors, revealing an even larger hall within. It was also lit by skylights, and its floor was tiled with the same rose marble, but checkered between tiles of white. The style of the arches very much reminded Robby of the bell room at Tulith Attis, but hanging from their apexes were many-candled crystal lamps suspended by long silvered chains. As well, the columns below the arches supported additional lamps, dangling from gold hangers, and many small elegant fireplaces lined the walls. Here and there were pennants and battle standards carved of wood on staffs tilting out from rings of iron set into the columns and walls. More pennants and cloth flags draped down from the balconies above, along with shields and bucklers of various designs and heraldry.

  Dargul led the way, walking ahead of Ashlord and Robby. Sheila, Billy, and Ibin followed, staring and gaping at the room and its contents, while Ullin came lastly. Ashlord and Robby kept their eyes ahead where, at the far end of the room, there was a low dais spanning the width of the hall and flanked by banners and hung with intricate tapestries behind. Unlike the main floor, the dais was carpeted with rich heavy greens and blues. Two fireplaces, the grandest in the hall, burned to either side, and two low-hanging chandeliers glowed brightly. There were two great and ornate chairs pushed to the side, apparently to permit room for the large long table that was there. Beside the table stood two men with their backs to the approaching group. They were discussing a large map and other charts unrolled between them on the table. One of them was dressed in military fashion. The other man was robed in splendid silks, green and yellow and silver with ruby studs along the cuffs. He had long red hair spread across his shoulders, and, when he turned to glance at the visitors, Robby saw a gray-streaked red beard that came down to his chest. In the moment that he briefly looked his way, Robby thought he saw an angry flash in his eyes that made his stomach flutter. Robby did not want to appear weak before Lord Tallin, and he did not want to seem too proud or arrogant, either. But Robby had no doubt that he would be verbally cut to shreds by this man if he made one slip.

  Dargul stopped a few feet before the dais and gestured for the visitors to wait while Lord Tallin finished his discussion. Robby could hear their voices, and he gathered that the military man was sharing something of vital importance. This soldier had white hair that flowed over his hard leather cuirass, made in heavy bands, and fastened about his shoulders was a long purple cloak, unbuttoned and flung back as a cape. He stood with his feet apart, and when he turned to face the group, Robby saw one of the sternest faces he had ever beheld. Two long braids of gray-white hair hung over his shoulders and his hand rested on a heavy brass-hilted sword at his side. He crossed his arms, but did not take his eyes from the group as he listened and nodded, piercing each visitor in turn with his brooding eyes until they settled long and hard upon Robby. His thin lips, his clean-shaven dark face, his high brow—his entire face, in fact—frowned.

  "Very well," he said, still not taking his eyes from Robby. "Please do me the honor of remaining for a few moments."

  "Certainly, my lord." The red-bearded one bowed low and stepped aside, rolling up the map and taking a position to the left before the group.

  Dargul cleared his throat and, in a voice that was louder than was necessary, said, "Lord Tallin, the expected visitor has arrived, with company. I present to you Robby Ribbon, late of Passdale and Barley."

  Robby hardly knew who to bow to, so surprised by his own mistake. Yet it was clear that the white-haired warrior, not much older in appearance and vitality than Ullin, was in fact his grandfather, the Lord Tallin. Somewhat flustered, Robby managed to bow not too awkwardly.

  Tallin lowered his arms and took a step towar
d the group.

  "You have the appearance of your father," he said, "but the bearing of your mother. They are well, I trust?"

  "My lord," Robby said, "have you not heard? Passdale and Barley have fallen to Tracian Redvests, and my people are scattered. Your daughter, my mother, is near Janhaven, and she is gathering all the forces she may muster to counter the invaders and to protect those who escaped. Her husband, my father, is making his way to Glareth, there to plea for aid. Perhaps some of our people have made it away safely, perhaps some have come here. But many are missing and may be dead or captured by the enemy."

  "I have heard. No one has come out of Barley as far as we know. I thought your mother would have brought her family here," Tallin said, "and I wonder that your father did not travel here to seek assistance."

  "My father took the only way that the attackers left open for him. And my mother will not leave her people in the time of their need, my lord."

  "She left her people long ago," Tallin retorted coldly. He flung himself down into the left-hand chair and slumped. "I understand your aim is to go to Duinnor. To seek assistance there."

  "Yes. If none can be found closer at hand," Robby said.

  "If you mean to imply Tallinvale should go to the rescue of Passdale," Tallin said, suddenly rising from his seat and stepping down from the dais toward Robby. "Let me put that from your head immediately. The strength of this valley is in the south where a Redvest army of two hundred thousand is gathered, we think, to move westward. Two hundred thousand so far. Should they choose to turn north, all of Tallinvale would be open to them. Meanwhile, to our west is the Damar warlord who looks with envy upon our lands, hoping that the Tracian Redvests will strike so that he may send his forces through the mountains against us. An uneasy treaty is all that stands between Tallinvale and those two powers. And while trade and commerce continues between us, I have only seventy thousand to put against them should either attack. Dare I provoke such a disaster by interfering with their doings in Passdale? I, too, have sent couriers to Duinnor. For years, I have seen the gathering clouds of war, and I have forewarned the West of the days that have now come upon us. Duinnor has done nothing! No supporting army has it raised for the relief and security of the eastern realms. No treasure has been sent for the purchase or production of arms. No emissaries have gone with threats or reasoning to Tracia. Duinnor! You should go back to your mother. Your journey is a waste of time." He shot a glance at Ullin before turning away. "Even if you do have a Kingsman to vouch for you."