The Bellringer

by William Timothy Murray

  "That's right, Robigor," Mr. Furaman put in. "I started keepin' my stockade closed up, an' the Post Riders put guards around their station for all hours. The thinkin' was that maybe they'd be after the gold an' silver paid out for deliveries."

  "An', what tops it all," Mrs. Starhart continued, excitedly, "was that a new feller showed up. Different than the rest. Fancy dressed, too, but all in a western kinda way, not like the coats an' hats them others wore, but more like the garb of some of them Duinnor folk or Glareth people that come through from time to time. Anyways, so Mr. Calman, one of the Post Riders, told me this feller says he wanted to get back some letters that he sent out, and wanted to add some more notes to the bundle. Well, Mr. Calman was most adamant that any letters given over to the Post can't be given back. Well, then the stranger got all hot and insistent. Mr. Calman said things got all tense and heated, but when some of the other Post Riders came along, the stranger changed his tone considerably. Then he asks if the Station had any old coins they might want to trade out for new ones. Said he represented a collector, some great lord wishin' to remain unknown, who had a hobby of collectin' old stuff. Anyway, so the stranger said, any coin, silver or gold, from the last age or before, would be traded for twice its weight in like metal, regardless of condition. But Mr. Calman told the man to be on his way, that he'd not look to the Station strongbox at all."

  "Oh! That's most unusual!" said Mr. Ribbon with a quizzical look.

  "Aye, everyone thought so. An' the man made rounds all over Janhaven, an' he did, indeed, buy a few old coins some folk had, an' he showed 'em off to others. When he made his way back to the Post Station, he fairly insisted that the clerk there look through the treasury there for old coins. Which the boy did, but as there warn't any, the man went away. When Mr. Calman came along an' heard all about it, he roundly scolded the poor lad for letting on how much treasury was there, sayin' to the lad that he might as well have announced to every bandit in the hills there was a hoard sittin' there waitin' for the takin'."

  By now, Mr. Ribbon had a confused look. Like him, Robby and Sheila also had trouble following what Mrs. Starhart was leading up to. Sensing that she was being rather long in her talk, she waved her hand about in the air again.

  "Well," she went on, "now why would a person want old coins? I think it was only a way to be sure that his letters were sent out. I think the first feller was to deliver them for the second feller, but the second feller got it into his head that the letters didn't get to the Station, but he had no way to check on it an' see."

  "Why didn't the man deliver his letters himself?" Robby asked.

  "Why does anyone get someone else to do their errands?" Mrs. Starhart answered firmly. "Well, when I put it all together that it was about them letters given over to Bob that day, I decided I'd better take a look at them coin the man left. See, Bob didn't take the purse with him. He said he'd figure on weighin' in the parcel an' payin' out from his own purse, telling me that them coins the man left was far too much, an' the feller would probably be back for the change. So I went on an' fetched out the purse the feller left, an' that's what I've come to show you. Sure enough, they're all old coins, indeed. Old like what that second feller was lookin' for. An' no wonder they was the beginning of such bad luck all 'round! Look!"

  Reaching into her apron pocket, she withdrew a leather purse and from it took out a large coin. "Have you ever seen the likes of this?"

  She held it up for all to see. It was red gold, as big as a large plum with a green emerald set in the middle of it. So brilliantly did it catch the lamplight and flash it back with yellow and green glints that everyone in the room caught their breath.

  "Oh, my!" Sheila whispered, sitting up rigid. A wave of fearful excitement shot through her body as vague, intriguing memories sparked in her mind. Confused, but fascinated, she glanced around to see how Robby and Mr. Ribbon were reacting.

  "What kind of coin is that?" Robby asked.

  "If I ain't mistaken, that's a Faere coin," Mr. Ribbon said.

  "Then I was right!" Mrs. Starhart said to Mr. Furaman. "Bad luck all 'round, for any what owns one!"

  "Oh that's just an ol' tale," Mr. Ribbon said, holding out his hand. Mrs. Starhart gave the coin to him, and he turned it over and over, looking at the intricate designs cast into it.

  "The stranger, curse him, left us with a whole bag of 'em!" She emptied the purse of coins onto the little end table, each coin as brilliant as the next, each with a different kind of jewel as fine as the emerald in luster and clarity. Mrs. Starhart went on. "I knowed right away this here purse was what all the fuss an' strange talk was about. I just knowed it! An' as soon as I saw 'em, nobody had to tell me they was trouble. Alls I want to do is get rid of 'em. I was gonna bury 'em in a barrow, follering the 'structions given me by an old hag what lives nearby. She said they're blood money coins, from the ancient times, an' nobody but folk with Faerekind blood may have any good of 'em. Well, I didn't know, but I went an' asked me brother, here. But he says not to do that, not to bury 'em, that is. He says, 'Bring 'em to Robigor Ribbon. Ask him what to do.' So there. Asides from askin' you 'bout Bob, I come to ask if we might make a trade. These are all of 'em. Seven altogether. Each one with a different kind of stone in the middle."

  "Mrs. Starhart," Mr. Ribbon said, passing the coin to Robby to look at. "I don't know how much they're worth, but I reckon more than I have in the house an' store put together! They're at least thirty-weight in gold."

  Sheila, on the edge of her chair, eagerly watched the coin turning over in Robby's hands.

  "An' each jewel by itself, why, I reckon to be worth more than the gold of all of 'em," Mr. Ribbon was saying. "I'm sure yer brother, here, could trade 'em down at one of the coastal towns for more than I could offer ye."

  Robby held the coin out for Sheila to take, and she did so, grinning and handling it delicately. It was heavy, and the gold and jewel glittered fiercely. And, strangely, it was warm to the touch, not like metal at all.

  "My sister will not permit me to carry them, or even touch the bag what holds 'em," Mr. Furaman shrugged. "Not even to make a trade an' be rid of 'em."

  "I think they ain't gonna be done with me or my kin until they's good an' gone from us!" Mrs. Starhart uttered. "I ain't wishin' no harm on you, but since you're already touched, pardon me sayin', by the Faere, havin' Miss Mirabella as your wife an' all, I reckon you're as safe from harm as anyone might be. An' your prosperity's the proof of that!"

  Mr. Ribbon glanced over at Robby, who was looking back at him. The realization from Robby's calm expression that there was no cat to let out of the bag only served to confuse Mr. Ribbon all the more. He saw that Robby was obviously acquainted with the fact of Mirabella's race. Robby said nothing, only smiled and raised his eyebrows at his father's awkwardness.

  "Oh, I hope I didn't say anything to make offense!" Mrs. Starhart said, seeing Mr. Ribbon's strange expression.

  "No, no," he said weakly, a bit red in the face. "It's only, I hadn't thought of it that way, is all. Don't look at things in that manner. An' I suppose it's been years since I quit puttin' stock in what folk say 'bout the Elifaen Faerekind," he said, glancing over at Robby. "But I still don't know what to tell ye 'bout these coins."

  "If you'll take the coins off my hands," she proposed, "I'll take the goin' rate in trade for the weight of 'em, in plain Realm gold or fair silver, if you got it. If not, perhaps a credit for the amount against goods from your store. That would be more than fair, I'd say. But I'd ask you to tell no one how you came by 'em."

  Mr. Ribbon looked at Furaman, who shrugged, then back at the coin in Sheila's hands. She handed it back to Mr. Ribbon, and he turned it over and over, thinking.

  "Well," he said at last, "I believe I might handle that, though our stock of coin ain't great at the moment. Let's go see."

  Agreed, they all went downstairs where Mr. Ribbon carefully weighed the coins, then he balanced a weight of gold coins out for Mrs. Starhart, then a fourfold weig
ht of silver. This satisfied Mrs. Starhart very much, and she and her brother soon departed, leaving Mr. Ribbon, Sheila, and Robby staring at the seven artifacts laid out on the desk before them.

  "They must be ancient," Sheila said at last.

  "Beyond imaginin'," Mr. Ribbon said.

  "From the First Age, you think?" asked Robby.

  "I have no idear," said Mr. Ribbon. "An' ain't that the mystery of it! I know a little about Faere coins, only from havin' seen a few, a long time ago. But they was small, silver-like, with a little bitty specks of jewels or pearls in 'em. Never seen nor imagined great big ones like these here."

  "What are you going to do with them?" Robby asked.

  "Just keep 'em, I guess," Mr. Ribbon said, shaking his head. "I mean, thar ain't no place 'round these parts to trade 'em. It'd be a shame to melt 'em down or pull out the stones. Mebbe next spring, when we head up to Glareth to get ye to school, we'll take these along."

  "They are like jewelry," Sheila observed. "Not like coins at all. They are just so beautiful!"

  "You're right," Robby agreed. "It's kinda hard not to stare at them. Like watching a fire."

  "Like all Faere craft," Mr. Ribbon said.

  Robby looked at him in wonder. He had not confronted his father on his secrecy about his mother, but had instead let his mother tell him about her family, and now he understood his father's reluctance. Mrs. Starhart's fear and mistrust of all things Elifaen was common in this region, and, as his mother had explained, fear can sometimes turn into darker emotions and cause even good people to act badly. She also explained that her kind was not blameless, either, but did not deserve the shunning that many Men gave them. Now Robby understood that his father's desire was to protect his family from as much of that prejudice as he could. And if Mr. Ribbon did so by hiding much, so be it.

  "I suppose I have a lot to explain," he said awkwardly to Robby. "But I see that ye know more than what's been learned from me."

  "Mr. Ribbon," Sheila put in gently, touching his arm, "Robby knows about Mirabella. He was bound to find out. Everybody around here knows, and eventually he would stumble into it. Only, it would have been better for Robby if you had told him all along. Now he doesn't know how to act around folk."

  Mr. Ribbon sat down on the stool, and, taking off his spectacles, nodded at Sheila.

  "Yer a good girl, Sheila," he said. "An' kind to speak up for Robby. An' of course, yer right. Son, when I whar a few years older than ye are now, I saw yer mother for the very first time. My heart was hers, an' I bound meself to make her heart mine. I was raised by folk who whar like Mrs. Starhart, all full up with bad talk an' bad blood with the likes of yer mother's kinfolk. Well, long story short, Mira's kin didn't care much for the likes of me, though they always treated me proper-like. But Mira decided she'd be me wife, an' her folks didn't like that a bit. So she had to leave 'em, see? An' she came here to live in Passdale with me as her husband. Oh, what scandal thar was over that on every side, an' at first folks 'round here treated her most unkindly. An' some folk even stopped tradin' with me, for a while. Well, folks might've changed some since then, havin' lived around her an' havin' gotten to know her these years since. But I guess I never did change. I guess I still mistrust folk, fearin' they might go back to the way they acted before they liked yer mother so much. An' I didn't want ye to suffer such from what they might say er do."

  "Daddy," Robby said. "I don't blame you for anything. But, you see, things have happened, and I've asked questions that Mother had to answer. She told me all about why you were so guarded against me knowing. But now that I do know some things, and want to know more, I can't pretend that I don't."

  "Son, I tell ye," Mr. Ribbon said, putting his arm around Robby and pulling him close, "ye have some magic about ye that must've come from Mira's side. Ye take after her in more ways than just yer way of talkin'. Ye got a kind of spirit about ye that must've come from her side. An' hers is a fine old family, too, I want ye to know, with much honor in thar stories an' many a grief, too. Thar ain't nuthin' to be ashamed of, 'cept havin' a fool for a father. In yer heart ye should be proud of yer ancestry, though the days of glory may have passed away. I only ask ye this: beware of folk what smile kindly at ye but look for somethin' to hold against ye. Be proud of yer heritage, but don't flaunt it about. Keep it to yerself if ever ye can. An' don't hold it against the likes of folk like me, who are ignorant an' ordinary, with no charm, an' no glorious past to brag about."

  The door bell jangled as Mirabella entered the store, carrying a bundle wrapped in linen and carefully tied with green ribbon. When she saw the three behind the desk, and Mr. Ribbon with his arm around Robby, she stopped.

  "What's this? I thought the store was closed. Have Mrs. Starhart and her brother left already?"

  "Yes, dearie," Mr. Ribbon said, grinning. "An' with a little business completed. Look here."

  Mirabella put her bundle on a nearby table and walked around the desk, squeezing past Sheila. When she saw the coins lined up across the desk, she put her hand to her chest. Confused and wide-eyed, she looked at her husband and back at the coins. Carefully, as if she might break it, she picked one up and held it.

  "I haven't seen one of these since..." her whisper trailed away as a prickly sensation ran up and down her back.

  "A might uncommon, eh?" her husband beamed.

  Mirabella looked at him, astonished.

  "How in the world did you come by them?" she asked, her voice cracking.

  "Ah, well, Mrs. Starhart had 'em," Mr. Ribbon said. "Why don't ye let Sheila tell ye whilst Robby an' I finish up down here. Meanwhile, take 'em an' put 'em in the upstairs strongbox."

  Mr. Ribbon watched the two women depart upstairs, each caringly holding a few of the coins.

  "I don't remember Faere coins being so large," Mirabella was saying to Sheila as they climbed the stairs, "nor quite so fine!"

  Sheila noticed that Mirabella's hands were shaking as she suddenly stopped, and her expression changed from one of wonder to that of shock, her mouth open. Although it was only a moment, as far as Sheila was concerned, it was an eternity to Mirabella. She stared at the two coins in her hands, and she felt as if she was falling into them, growing lightheaded and dizzy. The prickly feeling on her back changed to a burning sensation running down her scars and back up, as if they were on fire. The glint of gold and the flash of the red ruby and the blue sapphire mingled with impossible memories, splattered blood and the terror of falling through a clear sky from dizzying heights—memories she had not had since being Scathed as a child, when her scars first formed. As on the night the Great Bell tolled, her ears rang again, but now the sound was mingled with wails of anguish rather than the sound of a storm. Then, suddenly, there came into her heart a paradoxical wave of terrible hope, contrary to all she felt. For a brief instant her mind's eye saw a figure, holding out the coins. His features, all but the broad white wings spreading from his back, were entirely indiscernible in the awful light that emanated from him. Like lightning, he was. With a crack, the vision disappeared as swiftly as it came. Stunned, Mirabella shoved the coins at Sheila.

  "What is it?" Sheila asked as Mirabella hurried back down stairs.

  Robby and Mr. Ribbon looked up from the account books as she hurried past to a shelf of ceramic jars.

  "Don't mind me," she said as she grabbed one of the jars, removed the lid, and dumped the many packets of firesticks out onto a table.

  "Mira?" Mr. Ribbon asked.

  "I'll clean that up later," she said, taking a folded kitchen towel from another shelf and hurrying back to the stairs.

  "Sheila. Here, would you be a dear and wrap them up in this towel?" she said, putting the towel down onto the stair step.

  "Of course."

  "We don't want to damage them, do we?"

  Mirabella put the jar down, too.

  "Put them in this jar. Yes, they'll just fit. Let's get the lid on, Sheila."

  As Sheila put the lid on and latched the bale
, Mirabella tugged a chain from under her blouse and pulled it over her head. "Come," she said, shoving the key dangling from the chain at Sheila. "Take the jar to the study. You know the strongbox there, in the corner?"

  Sheila lifted the heavy jar as Mirabella ushered her upstairs and gently pushed her into the study.

  "Yes, but I—"

  "Lock the jar of coins inside of it, if you don't mind. I suddenly feel the need for a bath. Go ahead. Give the key to Robigor, when it's done."

  Somewhat flustered, Sheila watched Mirabella hurry on down the hall.

  "Would you like for me to heat some water?" Sheila called after her. But Mirabella did not answer. Almost as soon as the washroom door was closed, Sheila heard the sound of the pump handle groaning furiously and water splashing into the tub.

  • • •

  Robby and his father worked away far into the night, putting the final touches on the books and shelves and making ready for the following day, which was sure to be busy since everyone knew that a shipment of goods had arrived. By the time they had finished and were climbing the stairs, Sheila was already in bed, and they could hear Mirabella down the hall emptying the bath water into the drain. Mr. Ribbon went to the pantry and removed a bottle of wine and two goblets and poured for himself and Robby. The two sat down and drank in silence for a few minutes before Robby spoke.