The Fragile Fall At Tallow Bridge (The White Blood Chronicles Book 1) (4 page)

“ Now, sit yourself up and I can check on your hand,” she commanded.

Thaindire stared at her trying to ascertain what she had meant by her remarks but she avoided his gaze, busying herself with removing the soiled cloth and instead laying out more clean ribbons of material.

“ I got these from Metylda, the seamstress I mentioned, she said that the cloth has been spun from the purest and lightest thread so as to aid recovery,” explained Kathryn.

“ They certainly feel light,” agreed Thaindire as he moved into a seated position, keeping a blanket across himself to preserve his modesty. Kathryn knelt before him and the desirable scent rose from her as she bowed before him, as if paying homage to her better. She slowly unwound the bandage from about his left hand to reveal a crust of dried paste and blood.

The crust was in four distinct lines across the entirety of the back of his hand tracing precisely where the imp’s talons had raked him.

“ Made a mess of your gauntlet too,” commented Kathryn as she looked over the lines.

“ Does it need washing?” asked Thaindire.

“ No, I bathed your wounds first of all, yesterday. The layer across them is part of the healing process, it just needs more of the poultice placed on it,” Kathryn explained. She took his hand with her right hand and began easing the yellow paste across the lines, following the direction of the wounds. This injury was less painful and as she silently tended to him he found himself snatching the occasional glance at her, admiring the curve of the dress about her comely frame. He shook his head trying to dispel the thoughts, he must still be feeling weakened and it was only natural to form some empathy with a caregiver. Nevertheless, he felt a need to remain vigilant of such feelings, especially with a young lady in the mould of Kathryn Dromgoole.He was aware of those women who were temptresses who caught the unwary with their comeliness. Those who courted darkness to ensnare the unwary specifically sent them. Much of that temptation he had been warned about in his studies with the Order.

“ There, all done,” she remarked standing.

“ My thanks Kathryn,” replied Thaindire. She tidied away her belongings and then turned to him, again smiling.

“ I will let you finish your breakfast and then you must rest. I shall bring you some lunch presently.”

He nodded and remained seated as she departed the room with a twirl, leaving behind the smell of lemons and the heavy feeling of desire.

Thaindire ate the balance of his breakfast and through a combination of grunts and short movements he managed to manoeuvre himself so he was sat on the edge of the bed and able to look out of the window. He had tried to stand but the wave of agony, which erupted from his lower back, prevented him from pushing upwards on his legs. Instead he had to content himself with shuffling along and around the bed until he was gazing through the glass out onto the village beyond, still in a seated position. The day was similar to that of his arrival, with a mainly blue sky allowing the autumnal sun to try and provide a modicum of warmth to the land below. The sun just skirted above the trees massed opposite him and thus he denoted that the tavern was south facing. Thaindire looked to his left and observed that in fact the inn was a three-storey building and he was on the top floor, for he looked down on the buildings that were to the side of the tavern. He counted three fairly solid looking wooden constructions to his left, the east. The houses tapered around until they met a collection of trees. He could see that one property was set back from the fringe of the other buildings and was behind the trees, slightly obscuring it from view. It looked a sizeable building and he noticed that there was no reflection of light from its windows for the shutters remained closed. Continuing his gaze along the trees there then came an opening and Thaindire could see that this was the road into the village and which meandered eastwards to the city of Lancester, several days’ ride away. Across from the break in the trees the forest began again so that the southeastern part of the circle was not properties but instead trees once more. Even on the forest edge he could see that they were densely packed, trunks creating a wall of wood, even with the thinning canopy above, little light penetrated onto the forest floor below. The buildings began again and this time they extended all the way along the southern edge of the village  “square”. He could see that one was open at the front, a canopy extending from it and a figure stood over an anvil, arm raised before being driven down to cause a hammer to strike a glowing piece of metal. Orange sparks jumped as the two pieces of metal clashed and Thaindire heard the clang from the collision. Looking up he could see that there were other buildings behind those, which formed the southern edge. The roofs climbed slightly higher than those at the front and there seemed to be three, possibly even four lines of houses, again two storey, indicating that the land to the south was on a gradient. The all encompassing forest once more surrounded the final line of buildings and his eyes travelled up along the wall of trees until eventually they met the skyline. The bank of trees was at least five times as deep as the line of buildings and denoted that the rise beyond was reasonably steep. It was while he was regarding this fortress of branches that Thaindire noticed that there was the top of a roof, quite a way back along the bank of trees. It did not break the skyline for there were other trees behind it but as he stared he was certain that it looked like a conical roof. It was difficult to see give the distance and the massed trees but it suggested that some kind of tower was in the woods away from the village. Perhaps a further road or track led to it from behind the southern side of the village and he made a note that this need to be investigated. It did not belong to the gentry for none resided in the environs of Aftlain and the Forest of Centopani. Indeed, this lack of noble rule was one of the concerns that fuelled the reports of unruliness in this distant settlement, the guard stationed at Lancester and High Quern being too far away to maintain watch on behalf of the Duke. He must ask Kathryn about it when she next visited his room.  Thaindire tentatively rubbed at the back of his left hand as the wounds beneath tingled and itched. No doubt the ingredients in the poultice working their way into the openings. He looked back out of the window. Across to the right, the buildings swung around creating a western side, the properties arcing slightly so as to continue the ill-formed circle, which amounted to the village square. Similarly, a handful of the properties had open fronts and a number of villagers milled about in front of them, presumably obtaining produce from them. The houses then abruptly turned forming another roadway away from the square. This slightly surprised Thaindire as he expected the square to be all that there was at the end of the eastern road, but it was clear that another section of road led away. After that he was unable to see any further to the right as the tavern was angled such as obscure any further consideration of the layout of Aftlain.

His gaze travelled back across the square, which was cobbled, something rather unusual for a settlement so small as this village. It was far from a hamlet but such cladding was usually the preserve of the towns. Slightly off centre was a stone well. The circular walls rose from the cobbled ground and a wooden frame sat atop the walls providing the winching mechanism for a large bucket which hung just below the cylinder on which the thick rope lay coiled. A group of children played near to the well, casting stones across the cobbles and hopping and their intermittent laughter drifted up to Thaindire. He was moved to want to sketch the layout of the square and the surrounding buildings for his later use and the guidance of his companions and wondered where he might obtain ink and vellum to do so. Again, another question for Kathryn. An aching began in his back, even sitting for a period was testing his body and he began to shuffle back so he could lie down when he heard the tolling of a bell. He halted in his movement and listened to the dull ringing which emanated from somewhere to his right. Perhaps that was where the other road led to, the village church. He counted to eleven and realised he had indeed slept for sometime, an all too willing victim for the sleeping draught which had been administered to him without his prior knowledge.

Carefully Thaindire adopted a supine position, twisting slightly to his left to try and alleviate the pressure on his back and shoulder. So, he had at least seen more of the village now. It was not untoward, a collection of solid looking timber dwellings, some made of stone and timber, stores and a smithy. The existence of the tower intrigued him as this would denote the existence of some kind of authority and so far he had encountered none. True he had been at the village possibly only a day but if there was a village elder or leader he imagined that they would have made themselves known to a newly arrived stranger. Thaindire mulled over these thoughts, he wondered whether he was being made well again before an audience with whoever presided over this village. Kathryn had stated quite openly to not wanting him to run away, but he was no doubt reading more into that and she was merely referring to her own less than subtle intentions towards him.

The thought of the young woman caused him to pull a blanket about him lest she re-appear and treat herself to a lingering look at his naked form. He would have to check how much money she had taken to pay for the herbal remedies and there was also the cost of the repair of his cloak at the seamstress. He found it strange how she had taken it upon herself to attend to that so promptly when it was evident that he would be bed bound for a while yet and not in need of it. He wondered if the seamstress would have the correct colour of material to match what remained of his cloak? He doubted it, for the cloak was fashioned from a very distinct azure and he could not imagine that an outpost such as this would have the requisite dyes available.

They had each been presented with their cloak on their admission to the Order. He recalled receiving his plain azure cloak when he became a Steadholder Constable. Now, having progressed to the rank of Steadholder, his cloak had the addition of midnight blue flames along the base of the cloak. Should this expedition progress well, a promotion to Steadholder Ensign, might be achieved, bringing the addition of those midnight blue flames to the neck of his cloak. Those who knew the colour and design soon became aware who the wearer was. It was clear its import meant nothing to Kathryn or her father as neither had commented upon it and he expected someone as nosy as the woman to do so if she was aware of its significance. Even if the cloak was repaired it would show and no doubt he would face some shame on his return, to the Order with a damaged cloak, whenever that might be. He cast aside any thoughts of how he might return to Lancester as his focus was on investigating Aftlain. When his mobility returned he would explore the northwestern section of the village, the part he could not see from his window and determine where the other road led. He needed to ascertain the boundaries of the village and confirm that the dense Forest of Centopani did indeed embrace this settlement on all sides and allowed no passage or if that was a falsehood, what lay beyond this village, for no map he had set eyes on had provided that enlightenment. All of this needed to be committed to parchment for the preservation of evidence and the key inhabitants duly indicated on his map. The tower was a must and he would seek to reach that as he mapped the southern edge of Aftlain, for it appeared there would be a number of lanes on that side of the village. He queried whether the northern side, behind the tavern was similar. Certainly the eastern and western perimeters only appeared to have a single row of buildings and in fact the eastern part was sparsely inhabited. The house, which stood on its own, intrigued him. He also needed to attend upon the apothecary. This Thorne woman was not a physician by study but instead some kind of herbalist who sourced her own ingredients through an untrained method. Quite possibly seeking the guidance of darkness to achieve her aims. She stood out more than anything else so far as worthy of his attention. It was evident that Kathryn, being a lifetime inhabitant of the village would know every one who resided here but too many questions about people rather than buildings would not sit with his role as a cartographer so some selectiveness was required.

He felt a ball of frustration well up inside of him as he was moved to begin his scouting forthwith but his broken frame would not afford him such a prompt start. No, he would ask some things of Kathryn, the tower was a fair query, for it was remarkable and perhaps he would enquire as where to find ink and parchment, but he would have to wait before he could unravel the lanes of Aftlain and its corresponding structures.

The rhythmic clang of the smith’s hammer on whatever instrument he was creating was strident above the general murmur of village life. Thandire wondered if the smith was a weaponsmith or whether his skills were confined to farming implements and so forth. He would do well to arm himself, having lost both his sword and dagger and he wondered what had become of them. Possibly those savage imps had snatched them, trophies of their interrupted assault or what if they had made good a hasty retreat on Dromgoole’s appearance and it was the landlord who had happened upon the weapons? His long sword was expensive. The steel expertly forged and lined along the twin blade with adamantine. The cross guard was fashioned as if two wings were protecting the hilt that itself had been shaped to accommodate Thaindire’s own distinct grip thus rendering the blade uncomfortable and hopefully unusable by anyone else. Set in the pommel was a large sapphire, anointed and blessed and again of their sponsoring colour. Each day he would sharpen the adamantine edge and use a special cloth to shine the gemstone. Many an enemy had halted, momentarily when he had drawn the spectacular long sword, the twin metals glinting in sun or lantern light and the sapphire flashing as if ablaze with holy fire. He doubted that Dronmgoole could read the inscription borne along the blade if indeed it was he who now possessed the weapon. The sword was lighter than a conventional long sword of comparable size which invariably enabled Thaindire to land one possibly two blows on his opponent before they had even had chance to strike. Admittedly those opponents usually wielded swords or maces themselves rather than assailing him with tooth and claw. Those blasted imps had no apprehension when he had exposed his blade. They acted with a single-minded purpose, his death. It was the first time since the attack that his mind had been clear enough to try and comprehend what had happened. The speed of their assault was like nothing he had ever witnessed and it pricked his pride that he was on the back foot from the beginning of the melee. He tried to assuage some of his discomfort by telling himself that he was ambushed and two, at least, had come at him from behind. He tried to remember how many he had seen, more than a half dozen at least. Vile, ungodly creatures and in keeping with the rumours that circulated describing this village. He wondered where they had emanated from. For certain they had sprung at him from the cloak of the forest, save the initial beast which had stood defiant in the centre of the road, causing him to neglect his own surrounds as he focussed on establishing what it was that he had encountered. Dromgoole had commented that he had found Thandire about two miles from the village so whatever they were, they must know of the village’s existence. It was odd though that his attackers had been firmly ascribed to wolves and not anything more sinister. That had cautioned him against confessing to what had actually happened on the road. He firstly had no desire to panic the villagers lest they be innocent of the whisperings and secondly such talk could turn his rescuer against him and in his weakened condition he did not want to be turfed out onto the road, without horse and supplies and a very long trek back to Lancester. No, it suited him to keep his own counsel about the imps but they would undoubtedly headline his report once he made it in due course. Thaindire closed his eyes, stifling a yawn as a tide of tiredness rolled over him. He stretched and wriggled trying to find comfort, the sound of the village in the background providing a pleasant hum, his own breathing settling into the same rhythm as the workings of the smith and gradually sleep once again conquered him.