The Bellringer

by William Timothy Murray

  Although Thurdun spoke deliberately and slowly, he walked at a fast pace, with Robby nearly jogging to keep up.

  "It rained for the next ten days without relief. But no one in our camp mentioned the sound that my lady and I heard, and we have pondered over it with each other ever since. So it was the falling of Heneil's Wall! What a crash it made!"

  "Yes, here the storm was terrible, and some windows of glass were shattered, and homes and fields destroyed, too. Except," Robby shot a nervous look at Thurdun, "it wasn't the wall coming down that you heard."

  "What was it, then?"

  Robby looked at Thurdun.

  "The thing that made the wall come down, and let loose the penned up waters of the lake."

  "What thing?" Thurdun asked hesitantly, as if he had some suspicion already.

  "Will you swear an oath to me that you are to meet Ashlord? That you are his friend and that you will ask him the questions that you would otherwise put to me if I tell you what it was?"

  "I am his friend, if any he has," Thurdun said sternly. "And in his debt by honor, too. I promise you this is the truth, upon my mother's honor."

  "And you will ask me no more questions concerning this, until at least you have spoken with Ashlord? And will speak of it to no one but him from now until you meet him? Not even to the people you escort?"

  "Aye! Aye! I swear! The mystery of it has made many sleepless nights for me."

  "Well, the knowing may not give you sweet dreams, either," Robby said. "But what you heard was the tolling of the Great Bell of Tulith Attis."

  Thurdun stopped and looked hard into Robby's face with an expression of disbelief turning to dismay. His mouth opened, but no words came to him for a long moment. Celefar stamped the ground and Thurdun looked down the road where the lights of the train were disappearing around a bend. When at last Thurdun did speak, it was in a foreign dialect, like the one the stone soldiers used, but Robby did not understand his mutterings. He began walking again, somewhat more slowly.

  "I will have much to ask Collandoth!" he said in the Common Speech. "I beg thee, allow me to tell one other, the person I escort. She still frets over that terrible night, and has since striven to divine the meaning of what we heard and saw. She would be relieved, in part, to hear this news. At least, I hope."

  Robby almost regretted having spoken of the Bell, but the earnestness of Thurdun touched him.

  "Very well. But only her."

  "Thank you. And I will honor my word and speak nothing of these things to anyone else until I see Collandoth. I think there is much else you could tell me, and why you will not, I will not venture to guess. Dark days are upon us, forsooth! But perhaps some light will come into them, too."

  He managed a smile, actually a very light, airy, joyful smile, and he patted Robby on the shoulder, almost laughing.

  "Enough of such things! How dour you are, with uncanny words and news. No wonder my lady felt you nearby and peeked from her window!"

  "I don't know what you mean!"

  "How far is it to Passdale? To the road that leads to the lake?"

  "Less than a furlong to the crossroad and to Passdale itself. This is the smithy up here on the left."

  "I have a duty to perform," Thurdun said. "I must find the mayor or the chief magistrate of this town and speak with him. I will catch up with my company afterwards."

  "Why?" Robby asked, suddenly a little more nervous. "I mean, if you don't mind me asking."

  "A formality," Thurdun sighed. "It is the law of this realm that when my people pass through the territory of any town, we must report to the chief magistrate, ruler, or watchman of that town. And to pay a toll."

  "Oh. Well, the Mayor might be at home by now, but I can take you to the Common House where meetings are taking place. If he is not still there, then to where he lives. I doubt if there will be any toll."

  "I would be thankful if you could show me to him."

  "Have you had to pay many tolls?"

  "Yes, quite a few. We started out with seven wagons of our goods and have now only one left, and the van."

  "You have been traveling very long, I suppose?"

  "We left our homeland when the last snow had melted."

  "That must have been, what? Six months ago?"

  "Nearly. And full of troubles all along the way, one after another. We have been delayed by bandits, feuding warlords, rains, and other business. We have buried six of our company, too."

  "Oh, my!"

  "We long to be at the end of our journey."

  "When will you return to Vanara?"

  "I cannot say. We have much to do in Glareth. Among other things, we go to find new homes for our people whose lands are no longer safe. Many Vanarans have given up their lands along our southern borders with the Dragonkind and have left Vanara. Much of their land has been given over by lease to Duinnor who does not care to use or to protect those lands as we would. The Dragonkind to the south of my country take advantage of these weaknesses, and they encroach upon us, ever testing our strength of arms. Duinnor, though it holds a stake in our security, does not help Vanara as it did in the past. Glareth, though far away from our home, remains a friend to Vanara and has welcomed many of our people. Collandoth may tell you more, if you see him. I do not wish to speak further about it just now."

  "It is just as well," Robby said, "because there is the Common House, yonder."

  He pointed left at a large stone and wood building with a high arched roof and an expansive portico likewise of wood and stone that stretched across the front and sides of the building.

  "I did not expect to see such a fine structure in these parts," Thurdun said.

  "Yes, I suppose it's something, isn't it?" Robby nodded. "It was built hundreds of years ago, my dad tells me, but it fell into ruin. It was restored some while back, before I was born, and has been our place of government ever since. I see by the lights that the Mayor is still there. The braziers at the end of the steps are only lit when the Mayor is present in the building, day or night. I don't know why. Tradition, I suppose. Seems a waste of good oil to me."

  "Traditions are not all bad," Thurdun said, turning toward the walk that led to the steps. "I bid you a good night."

  "Would you mind if I came in with you?" Robby asked. "I know most of the people around here, and I am on pretty good terms with the Mayor. I might be helpful to you."

  "Very well," Thurdun said. "Celefar! Caes far lo en ian cavad!"

  His mount snorted in response and turned to the wood nearby.

  "It is probably better for him to hide himself until we finish," Thurdun explained. "No sense in attracting undue attention at this hour."

  "I agree," Robby said, pushing open the great oaken door. "Come on in!"

  Inside was a fair-sized vestibule, brightly lit with glass lamps that hung from the arched ceilings. There was an old mural on one wall, depicting the labors of the seasons in ancient times, a few portraits hung here and there, and straight before them through a set of open doors was the Common Room. Sagwist, the old man who tended the building and the grounds, who lit the lamps and snuffed them out when it was time to do so, who swept and cleaned and maintained the place, and who had done so since before anyone could remember, was now sitting on a stool just inside the door, half dozing in his present role as doorman. He felt, more than heard, Robby and Thurdun enter and roused himself by lifting his ancient head from his chest where his chin had been resting in the nest-like pillow of his fuzzy white beard that seemed to grow in every direction but downward. At the sight of Robby, he nodded, then, seeing Thurdun, he unfolded his arms and slowly stood, his mouth open in surprise. The old man said nothing, and only stared intently as they passed by and sat on one of the benches near the back. Thurdun pulled his cloak around him, his head down under his hood, while Robby sat up straight and listened to the goings on.

  Mr. Bosk was standing and addressing the council, seated behind a long table at the far side of the room. Mr. Ribbon sat at the ce
nter of the table, facing Mr. Bosk, listening to him. When he saw Robby, father and son exchanged nods, and Mr. Ribbon lowered his head slightly to look over his spectacles at Robby's companion. Other than a barely perceptible movement of Mr. Ribbon's brow, he gave no expression of interest and turned his eyes back to the speaker.

  "An' so it must be decided," Mr. Bosk was saying, "whether to raise a militia. The longer it is put off, the greater the danger. Boskland cannot protect all of Barley an' Passdale, too. We are too few."

  "It is not that it ain't a good idea," one of the Passdale men replied. "But at what cost to the treasury? Since the floods, we've spent much on road an' bridge repairs, an' thar's little left."

  "You know it is our law," another broke in, "that we purchase one bushel of grain for storage for each family of Passdale, for emergencies and as a guard against famine, and that much of our store had been depleted already. What's more, the flood has destroyed enough of the crops that prices have gone up. Until the Counting, we will have no more in our treasury. How are we to pay for arms?"

  "And who will serve?" another chimed in. "All are busy with their own business."

  "And who will they serve under? Who will train them? How will they be organized and dispatched?" asked another.

  "I'll see to the trainin'," Mr. Bosk broke in. "An' I'll contribute twenty-five men, with all thar equipment, plus another twenty-five as relief. As for the arms, we have two blacksmiths, one here in Passdale an' another at Boskland, who are more than capable of turnin' out most of our arms. More we can get from Furaman as we have the means. An' thar're several around, such as Sheila Pradkin, who can train archers."

  "But at what cost? Should we raise the taxes? What of the King's Share? We still have to raise that."

  Robby's father remained silent, a concerned look on his face, listening to the others.

  "Why not use the King's Share for this?" said a man at the other end of the table. "After all, thar ain't been a King's Company in these parts since last year, an' they was only passing through. What good's a King if he don't offer protection?"

  "Maybe he don't think we need protectin'."

  "Protecting from what?" said another adamantly. "I still don't see the threat. One lone band of rogues and we're all in an uproar. And that was weeks ago!"

  "An' one of 'em's still out thar!"

  "Oh, he's long gone off by now!"

  "Gentlemen!" Robby's father finally spoke. "It is late an' we're gettin' nowhars. It is a fact that our sheriff is too short-handed to keep a patrol up all over the county. It is also a fact that four riders came unchallenged into our county, killed at least three people, looted an' sacked two farms, an' caused other disturbances before finally bein' stopped. It is also a fact that one of 'em is still unaccounted for, an' we ain't had the folk er resources to search for him."

  "Let me remind ye," Mr. Ribbon went on, "that the recent floods left us damaged, true. But not so bad off as folk in the surroundin' lands. Now it stands to reason that we're gonna be seein' some bad conduct on the part of them folk from them parts, an' it's a fair guess that they'll be comin' into Passdale an' Barley as thar own situation worsens durin' the comin' winter. It seems like a good idea to me to raise a militia, askin' for volunteers to trainin'. Furaman, over in Janhaven, surely has some arms to spare in the short while, an' I can see to it we get 'em at a fair price. Meanwhile, I say, let's get our volunteers, an' provide for an allowance for feed an' billetin'. Let's see whar that gets us, I say. If it don't work out, we can come back an' see 'bout the treasury."

  "Hear, hear!"

  "All that say aye, say aye!"

  There were many ayes from the table.

  "All that say nay, say nay!"

  There were a couple of feeble nays.

  "Aye's have said!" Robby's father pronounced. "So let it be written an' signed. When all have signed, we will adjourn."

  "Good! I'm ready to go home!"

  "Me, too."

  "Aye, to that!"

  "Very well, Mr. Secretary, please present the adjournment papers."

  Mr. Jarn, the secretary, got up from his side table and laid out several large parchments on the council table. The councilmen lined up to sign their names to each sheet upon which was written the various decrees or decisions made that night. When they had done so, Mr. Ribbon stood and went around to the other side of the table and placed a wax seal on each one, adding his own signature.

  "We are adjourned!"

  As the group left by the nearby side door, talking and discussing the plans for the militia, Mr. Ribbon rolled up the various papers and parchments and sealed them in leather tubes for storage. He gave them to Mr. Jarn who left as well. As Mr. Ribbon gathered other papers from the table, Sagwist walked up the aisle between the benches to the front and stood respectfully behind Mr. Ribbon for a moment before clearing this throat.

  "If it pleases yer honor, here's a visitor," he said, bowing slightly as Mr. Ribbon turned around. When Mr. Ribbon saw Robby approaching with the stranger, a look of puzzlement came over his face. Thurdun pulled back his hood and enough of his cloak to walk more comfortably, thus revealing his resplendent mail, covered in part by a blue and green surcoat, with gleaming jeweled buckles on the belts around his waist and the clasps on his shoulders. Robby could see that Thurdun had stiffened his attitude and surmised that he was preparing himself for any amount of haggling about the toll. In the light, he looked as stern as a person could, his fair skin and white hair making him seem somewhat otherworldly. Thurdun stepped forward to greet the Mayor, but Robby cut in front of him.

  "I have the honor of presenting to the Mayor of Passdale," he said, trying to be as formal and officious as he could, "Thurdun of the House of Fairlinden, recently of the land of Vanara in the west."

  Robby's introduction surprised Mr. Ribbon even more, but no more than it did Thurdun when next Robby turned to him and said, "May I present the Mayor of Passdale, Mr. Robigor Ribbon, my father."

  The two men looked at Robby, who could not refrain from grinning as he looked from one to the other.

  "Welcome to Passdale!" Mr. Ribbon finally said with a bemused smile, offering his hand. "I see ye've met me son."

  "Thank you. Yes, I have," Thurdun glanced at Robby a bit suspiciously, then gave a slight bow and took Mr. Ribbon's hand.

  "I hope ye ain't traveled all this way just to see me?"

  "I'm afraid not. I am merely passing through, with a party of my kith and kinsmen."

  "Ah," Mr. Ribbon nodded, smiling. "I hope me son has not made a pest of himself."

  "Oh, no," Thurdun said. "I have been more the pest, for he has delayed his way home to show me to you."

  "Oh?" Mr. Ribbon continued smiling, waiting for Thurdun to continue. After an awkward silence, he asked, "Well, is thar anythin' I can do for ye?"

  "I am here for you to collect the toll from me for the passing of my people."

  Mr. Ribbon looked over his spectacles at Thurdun.

  "Pardon me?"

  "The toll to be collected of me. We are Elifaen of another realm."

  Mr. Ribbon glanced at Robby, who shrugged.

  "I'm sorry," Mr. Ribbon said to Thurdun, "but I know of no toll due. We ain't collected tolls for any roads er bridges in these parts since I was a little'un."

  "There must be some misunderstanding," Thurdun stated. "Our people are charged with paying a toll to each town and village we pass through, and to each principality, too. So says the writ I bear here."

  He reached into a side pouch, removed a small scroll, and handed it to Mr. Ribbon who unrolled it and studied it for a moment.

  "It says here, if I can make out this gibbery script, that the Prefect of Duinnor, let's see, 'decrees for the passage of any Elifaen of the Realm of Vanara a toll of the choosin' of each community an' shire.' "

  "Aye," Thurdun said. "And to be reported to the King's representative in Glareth Realm upon our arrival by my records of such."

  Mr. Ribbon turned and walked back t
o the table, took up a quill and dipped it. He made a quick scribble with a broad flourish and tossed aside the quill. Turning back and whipping off his spectacles, he reapproached, rolling up the scroll.

  "Yer toll is paid in full by the honor of yer visit," he said flatly, handing the scroll to Thurdun. "Though it seems a bit outrageous to me that a feller can't travel the roads without every penny-squeezin' magistrate from here to the settin' sun bein' given the right to rob a feller! Why in heavens would such a decree be made?"

  "To keep our people from leaving our lands," Thurdun said. "For the more of us that leave, the fewer there are that can be bound over to service for Duinnor."

  "Huh? Ye don't say! Well, I dunno 'bout such things," Mr. Ribbon said. "And I ain't all certain Duinnor knows what's best, sometimes."

  Thurdun smiled.

  "Then we are free to pass through to Lake Halgaeth?"

  "By all means! Though me wife would sorely like to meet ye, I'll warrant," Mr. Ribbon said. "She's Elifaen herself, an' she don't get much chance to see the likes of her own kind."

  "Twice invited," Thurdun said, "and, regretfully, twice refused. Your son made the same offer of your hospitality earlier, and I should have known then that we had entered a different kind of land. I am much honored by your treatment of me and will not forget it. But I must away to catch up with my train, so I cannot tarry."

  "Not every Man is unkind to the Elf," Mr. Ribbon said. "Even in these parts where much discord twixt Men an' Elifaen came about."

  "Yes, forgive my presumptions," Thurdun bowed slightly. "But it has been our rare experience to meet with such understanding outside our own realm. As I said, we will not forget Passdale in Barley!"

  It was Mr. Ribbon's turn to bow. "Then it is we who're honored, sir," he said. And then to Robby, "I reckon it's time ye got on off home, Mr. Big Britches."

  "Yes, sir. Are you coming, too?"

  "It'll be a bit longer 'fore I come, son. A few things to put away an' to see to. Tell yer mum I won't be too long, though."

  "I, too, will go," Thurdun said giving Mr. Ribbon his hand. "I may see you again, if fortune favors. Thank you."