The Bellringer

by William Timothy Murray

  Ashlord heaved a sigh.

  "It is a sorry world that treats people so!" he proclaimed.

  "At least her uncle had the decency to hang himself," Robby said.

  "I agree. But from what I gather, I don't think Steggan was the sort of man to feel any guilt. Perhaps, one way or another, justice caught up with him."

  Robby thought he heard a note of threat in Ashlord's voice. Ashlord knew more than he would say, Robby figured, and, although he was curious, he did not press Ashlord. Instead, Robby sat, clenching and unclenching his fists in anger and frustration, shaking his head. The two sat quietly for a few minutes until Ashlord softly slapped his knees and stood.

  "You have a long walk ahead of you tomorrow," he said. "So I suggest that you get some rest."

  "What about you?"

  "I have already rested," Ashlord said. "And I will have more rest before morning. But, first, I must gather more starcup blossoms for my mixtures. You can only find them at night after heavy rains have fallen and when the skies are clearing. I have already filled one pouch, but need another." He picked up a shoulder bag and opened the door, taking up his stick.

  "Sleep!" he commanded before stepping out and closing the door.

  Ashlord's footsteps receded, and Robby sat a while longer, watching the fire, pondering what Ashlord had just told him, his drowsy eyes watery with anger and sadness. He stood, feeling again the urge to go to Sheila, but he went instead to his cot.

  "Sleep!" he muttered, crawling under the blankets. Soon enough, sleep came. It was not fitful as before, and he dreamed about the store and trying to sweep away piles of sand that blew in through the door as customers came and went. The sand made the door hard to close, and kept blowing into his eyes, too, but Robby was glad to be home, and he did not mind the annoyance. Just before he managed to shove the door to, he saw a figure standing in the road, looking at the store. The person was wrapped from head to foot in dark robes, snapping and blowing in the gritty wind. Hearing his father call to him, he closed the door and happily turned his attention to the customers and their mundane needs.

  Chapter 7

  Sheila's Secret

  Day 8

  237 Days Remaining

  The following morning before dawn, Ashlord roused his guests, who groggily ate breakfast then packed for the trip back. Each was given a small flask of water and a walking staff to help with any boggy places they might encounter. Robby had his shoulder bag and staff, and Sheila picked up her bow and quiver.

  "Keep watch on my things, Flitter," Ashlord called to the squirrel as he closed the door. Certina was on his shoulder, but she flew off as he led everyone out of the yard and through the gate. He turned to the southward path.

  "We don't foller the road west, back through Ol' Gate?" Billy asked.

  "No," Ashlord replied. "The way you came from Boskland, which is normally the easiest way, is still too wet, I'm sure. We'll follow the ridgeline of the hill and then down through the pinewood before turning westward to the Line Road. We'll keep to higher ground as long as we can, and move faster and easier than going the other way."

  "Right!"

  So he led the group along the path and past the spot where they had sunned the afternoon before. They went down steep stairs set into the broad wall of the old keep as the hill dropped off rapidly into a series of lower ridges, and they followed these for a long while. To their left, the land descended sharply to a line of trees that marked the banks of the newly flowing river.

  "What was the river called in the old days, Ashlord?" Billy called ahead.

  "Billy," Robby shook his head, "you truly don't remember the name of the river that runs behind and around Boskland?"

  "Um, Sardlin'?"

  "Saerdulin," Ashlord answered. "Its right name is Saerdulin."

  "Oh, yeah. Saerdulin," Billy grinned.

  They could not yet see the river, but they could hear it roaring over long-dry falls and cutting afresh through channels choked with an age of growth. On the other side, as far as could be seen, lay the Boggy Wood, dark green and forbidding, with columns of fog lifting up here and there. To the west, on their right, the rain-soaked plain gave off its own mists, shrouding the fields of mud and rock with sheets of pale gray, obscuring any view of the Line Road or the Barley Ridge beyond.

  The path was narrow and dry, and after going steadily up and down, it turned suddenly east toward the river, and they passed through thickets so that they could not see left or right or ahead for more than a few feet. After a short distance the path rose, steeply following ancient flagstones covered with grass and weeds, and, as the path continued to climb upwards, the flagstones turned into steps. The way switched back on itself, cutting up the side of a slope and over rocky outcrops. Abruptly, they found themselves standing in the open again, atop the ruins of a small battlement overlooking the river. Through an opening in the trees below they could plainly see where Saerdulin bent southwestward gushing brown with mud. As they watched the churning water, a huge oak lurched and then fell over into the torrent to be dragged away.

  "Here the ancient course of the river could be watched and a signal fire lit," Ashlord said, pointing north where the walls of Tulith Attis were barely visible, shrouded in the morning mists. "There was once a road on the other side of the river that could also be watched from here, but it has long since vanished. In the old days, the river was calm and steady all the way up to the base of Tulith Attis, and boats could go from here all the way to the sea."

  "This was only a stream just a few days ago!" Robby uttered. "I waded across it, sort of."

  "If this is so flooded, I wonder what the River Bentwide must look like!" nodded Billy.

  "What about Passdale?" Robby worried aloud.

  "I think Passdale was spared the worst of it," Ashlord reassured him. "The River Saerdulin, meanwhile, has taken back its ancient course and will be a stream no longer."

  Turning away, he continued down the other side of the rise and the others followed, descending into a sparse pine wood. The moist, straw-strewn path muffled their footsteps. It was still slippery in places, from all the rain, but soon leveled out and wound gently around the straight trunks. Everywhere birds tittered and called, and late-summer crickets brrrred. Several times they heard the thumping of deer dashing away, and once or twice a frightened rabbit scampered off at their approach. In some places the path they followed was muddy or strewn with recently fallen limbs, but these were minor obstacles that did not hinder them from proceeding at a good pace. In spite of his aches and pains, Robby kept up easily, anxious as he was to get home. He stayed close behind Ashlord, with Billy and Ibin just after him and Sheila at the rear of their line. Robby paid attention to Ashlord, saw how he quickly moved around the bends, and he noticed Ashlord's head constantly turning this way and that, to check on those who followed him, and to survey the surroundings. At times, it seemed to Robby that Ashlord was listening for something, and at other times he would fix his gaze upon some obscure point in the trees, yet he never tripped or stumbled. Even when he was not watching where he was going, he seemed to see his way around thorn branches or over tricky roots and slippery rocks. They traveled in silence for a long way through the pine woods until at last Robby spoke.

  "You said the battle was lost and the fortress taken," Robby said. "What happened afterwards?"

  "Ah, well," Ashlord sighed, stepping over a large branch that had fallen across the way, without looking at it at all. "A great deal, apparently, although the details are sketchy, and the many stories and legends tell things differently.

  "According to the Annals of Duinnor, a great slaughter took place within the fortress and the blood of women and children spilled over the walls and was seen by the remnants of Heneil's forces who were engaged upon the plain. It is said that they were surrounded and could not get back to the fortress. One legend says that a single small group, led by Heneil's wife herself, fought their way out from the fortress and made it as far as the place where W
eepingbrook now runs. There, so legend has it, they came upon the bodies of their husbands and fell into deep mourning, their tears forming the waters that have ever since run there. Some would not leave that place and were left wailing beside the bodies of their men. As the rest fled, those who remained swore horrible oaths upon any who crossed them, upon the land, and against all who occupy the earth. Some say their spirits, still brooding with malice against Duinnor, abide along those banks even unto this day. You see, the defenders of Tulith Attis knew that Duinnor was on the way. But, as you have guessed, they did not arrive in time, and those who defended the place thought themselves doubly betrayed. Your local tales have it that Weepingbrook stream is haunted, I know. And Sheila thinks you stirred those spirits against you with your Duinnor blade."

  Robby glanced back at Sheila who merely nodded in return.

  "But then there came an army of men from the northern coastlands of Glareth," Ashlord went on as he ducked under a branch, "and, with the forces of Vanara and Duinnor, arriving at last from the west, a great army converged upon Tulith Attis. Of course, they were too late. They immediately set out in pursuit of the retreating Dragonkind, meeting them in a great battle on down along the banks of the Saerdulin where the River Lerse flows into it. There, the Dragonkind were utterly defeated and destroyed. But the seeds of discord were planted, and word of the fall of Tulith Attis and the treachery that caused it spread wide and divided the Elifaen from Men. Mistrust and misunderstandings erupted into feuds within the armies. All of the lands of the Eastlands and Tracia, already laid waste by the Dragonkind, fell into chaos as discord descended into violence. Vanarans fought Glarethians, Men against Elifaen, such was their lust for blood and blame. Duinnor quickly withdrew its army to prevent their men from being drawn into the squabbles. Had it not been for Queen Serith Ellyn of Vanara and Prince Thalamir of Glareth, who managed to regain control over their armies, all the world may have been thrown into civil war and chaos. When at last the armies retreated back to their own lands, warlords sprang up, taking what lands they could control, vying with one another for power. The Elifaen withdrew to Vanara and Glareth. The power of Duinnor was shaken, and the Fifth Unknown King's reign was weakened for a time, until the coming of the present Sixth Nameless King who reasserted Duinnor's might and reunited the lands of Men and Elifaen under the Seven Realms."

  "But what about Heneil?" Robby asked, skirting a mud puddle. "What happened to him? And his wife? Lyrium? Was that her name?"

  "Yes, it was. No one knows," Ashlord said. "Heneil's forces were utterly defeated before help could arrive. Some say that a few escaped down the Bentwide in boats, and that Heneil was among them, while others say he was killed, along with his wife, at the summit of Tulith Attis. Of his wife, there are no tales that I know of. But neither Heneil nor his wife were seen again in Vanara or Duinnor or any place known in the world. Lost, too, were Heneil's brother, Pellen, and his wife, Myrium, who was Lyrium's sister. All were most likely killed when Tulith Attis was betrayed and stormed by the Dragonkind."

  Ashlord looked over his shoulder at Robby close behind.

  "You saw the statues in the bell room," he said. "Some tales say that the woman depicted there is Lyrium, standing opposite her husband, Heneil."

  "Then she must have been very beautiful," Robby nodded. "If the statue only captured part of her loveliness."

  "Yes, born of starlight and moonlight, it is said, during the Time Before Time. The love story of Heneil and Lyrium is still sung by Elifaen folk and Men alike. In their day, all knew of their love and their affection for each other, and many refuse to believe they could meet such a violent and horrible end. Many say they abide to this day in a peaceful land far away."

  "Yesyesyes!" Ibin chirped up from behind, and then he sang these lines:

  "Green are the fields that glow in sun,

  Clear are the waters that playful run,

  Bright are the stars that twinkle away,

  In the land where Heneil and Lyrium stay."

  "Thar he goes, again," Billy said to Sheila.

  "Oh, leave him alone," she answered. "He has a nice voice."

  Billy shrugged just as he stepped into a deep mire.

  "Aw, yuck!"

  Not two hours later, they were crossing through an opening in a low wall, and scrambling down an embankment to emerge onto the Line Road.

  "Ah!" Billy cried out. "I know whar we're at! Only 'bout three leagues from home, Ibin!"

  "Good!" Ibin said.

  "Now listen to me for a moment." Ashlord called them to gather around him. "Much has happened to us all these past days. Robby here has been through more than he deserves, and I know you are his friends. So be careful of your tongues! I ask you to tell no one about what happened to Robby at Tulith Attis. Only that he was attacked by wolves and was driven off his course. Sheila and I found him and took him in."

  "Robby?" Billy looked at Robby with concern. "What goes on?"

  "Please do as Ashlord says," Robby replied. "I don't understand everything, but Ashlord seems to think that I might be in some kind of danger."

  "Danger?" Billy quizzed. "Oh, yeah. What ye told us yesterday."

  "Here is how it is," Ashlord explained. "Robby stumbled into something ancient and menacing. He may have awakened the attention of those who wish to keep their secrets. Not only he, but all of you are in danger of their plots. If they learn that Robby was the one that rang the Great Bell of Tulith Attis, his life may be in danger. I will endeavor to keep his identity safe in my own way."

  "But what secrets?" Billy implored. "What secrets about who?"

  "Now is not the time for you to learn all the history to do with these things. I will only tell you this: There is a brooding one, seeking to reassemble the might he once held and to enslave all to his will. It was he who stirred the Dragonfolk, it is said, though he cares not for them. And he who incited the Faerekind against the Dragonkind and caused the Faerekind to split their ranks, forming the Elifaen and those who have departed from the world. It was he, setting himself against the gods themselves, who fomented strife in later days between Elves and Men."

  "You mean Secundur? The Prince of Shadow?" Sheila asked.

  "Yes, but do not so easily throw his name into the air," Ashlord said sternly. "He has many servants, and the one who betrayed Tulith Attis during the battle that took place there may have been in his service, and he might still be a servant of the Shadow Lord. Say nothing of these events. Say nothing of the awakening of the stone guard. Let those that may have heard the Great Bell form their own beliefs. Meanwhile, learn as much as you can about the world. Let Sheila teach you some of what I have taught her. Do not take histories or legends lightly!"

  "Are you not going on to Boskland with us?" Sheila asked.

  "No, I must return to Tulith Attis for a time," he shook his head. "I ask you to go on with Robby to Passdale and there to see his father. I know he has some business with you."

  "What business? I have no business with him. And, I—"

  "Sheila!" Ashlord gently interrupted her. "Your uncle's affairs must be settled. And there are other reasons to go. I need you to do this. While learning may never cease, there comes a time when one must apply the learning and abilities that one has, limited though they may be. It is your time to do that." He put his arm around her and led her a few steps away from the other three.

  "Those things I taught thee now come to pass," he said, speaking softly so that the others could not hear, and in the ancient dialect, slowly and clearly so that she would understand. "Young Robby has stumbled into them. He must have some role to play that only the Great Powers may know. Keep him safe until he reaches home. Encourage his continued learning. Look to thine own affairs, too. Above all, stay away from Tulith Attis unless I summon thee. Dost thou understand?"

  Sheila nodded, then, fighting back tears, she shook her head. "No."

  "My dear!" he said tenderly, putting his hands on both her shoulders and facing her. "Thou art the br
ightest pupil I have ever taught. When thou came unto me, I thought thou wouldst be a burden. But I was wrong! Thou hast helped me in so many ways. And there is nothing for thee to be ashamed of. Indeed, I bid thee walk proudly amongst those who once gave thee no kindness, who may have scorned thee, or who ill-treated thee. Be now confident in thine own self! Be brave amongst them. But do not disdain them. Remember our friendship in the lessons we hast shared. I will not abandon thee, but nor canst I be at once both here and there. I possess as much trust in thee as I would in mine own self to see Robby home. The Ribbons are trustworthy and upright. And, from that lady thou mayst well learn some things that a woman and a lady ought know, things that I cannot teach."

  "How long will it be?"

  "Perhaps many weeks, maybe fewer," Ashlord said. "I do not know."

  "So be it," Sheila said. "I will do thy bidding, though I think of the Hill, now, as home."

  "I am afraid it is no longer safe for thee," Ashlord said. "But so our work begins. Fare thee well!"

  "Farewell, Collandoth!" Sheila stepped away, taking resolve from his words. Then Robby stepped forward.