The Fragile Fall At Tallow Bridge (The White Blood Chronicles Book 1) (32 page)

“ Halt, come back here!” yelled Thaindire more in desperation than expectation. Alluvior stopped and faced Thaindire. He saw her hands weaving through the air once again and he kept running, waiting for the third pillar of water to assail him. Down to his left he saw the body of water leaving the river but rather than travel towards him, the torrent instead climbed up into the air ahead and then arced downwards creating a waterfall which cascaded down onto the narrow pathway. Alluvior was lost from his sight, obscured by the waterfall. Thaindire neared it, the spray drifting over him. The waterfall was fierce, the water hammering into the rocky path. He edged closer looking for a way onwards. He could not climb around the enchanted body of water for the rocky embankment was sheer and impassable. He carefully toyed with tilting a run at the mass of water but reasoned it would knock him off balance, such was its force and into the river. With a cry of frustration, he sheathed his sword and turned around picking his way back to the flat riverbank near the mill.

              Fuming, Thaindire marched towards the rear door of the mill and tried the handle. It was locked. He began to bang against the timber door with his fists and kicking at it also, but it would not yield.

“ Maunsell! Maunsell! Open this door!” bellowed Thaindire. No response came from within, as like some creature sniffing out its prey, Thaindire prowled the exterior of the mill. The windows were shuttered and afforded no entry as he made his way around to the front door. Again he battered the portal calling out for Maunsell to admit him but there was no reaction to his demands. Thaindire stood back from the door, his eyes scanning the front of the mill to see if anybody was watching him, but he could not see anyone.

“ Open this door Maunsell before I tear it down and drive my sword through your sorry neck!” threatened Thaindire. His voice echoed about the clearing before fading. There came no response.

“ Very well, you give me no alternative.”

Thaindire slammed his booted foot against the door. It shuddered under the impact. He raised his foot and brought it down hard again. There was a crack as part of the door began to weaken. He readied himself to drive another blow against the door but it was whipped open.

“ Stop! Stop!” came a shouted voice. Thaindire snapped his eyes open and Maunsell was stood in the doorway, his hands held in front of him, palms towards Thaindire.

“ Come out here,”ordered Thaindire lowering his blade. Maunsell obeyed and with tentative steps moved away from the mill. Thaindire walked across to him, sword still unsheathed and roughly grabbed the miller by his collar, holding the tip of his blade to his throat.

“ What are you doing with the body?” demanded Thaindire.

“ Please, please, don’t hurt me,” pleaded Maunsell.

“ The body, what are you doing with it?” snarled Thaindire.

“ Mistress Alluvior needed it, she and Master Grimoult need it.”

“ For what? What do they need it for?”

“ I don’t know. I was just to oversee its collection from the river. That is the truth.”

“ Hugh!” cried the miller’s wife as she appeared at the doorway, alarmed at seeing her husband on the end of Thaindire’s sword.

“ Who is Alluvior?” pressed Thaindire. Maunsell frowned in confusion.

“ She is a neighbour. Lives further up the riverbank, along the path,” he explained.

“ I saw that, I mean what does she do?”

“ She brings fish for the village. “

“ A fishmonger? You take me for a fool miller!” growled Thaindire.

“ No, no, she does. She sets nets from her home and catches the fish.”

“ So what is this catcher of fish wanting with the corpse of Kendra Leventhorpe then?”

“ You will have to ask her, she just said that she and Master Grimoult needed it, that he was sending his helpers to guide it from the water and I was to ensure it was lifted out and then conveyed to Mistress Alluvior.”

“ Like you oversaw the cutting out of some poor unfortunate’s heart too?” quizzed Thaindire. “ I think you are embedded in their conspiracy of darkness too. What say I run you through now?” threatened Thaindire.

“ No!” cried the miller’s wife dropping to her knees in anguish.

“ No Master Thaindire, I just do as I am asked. We are the only ones who live near the low point on the water so from time to time we are called upon to extract things from the river, if we can.”

“ Such as?”

“ It varies, the instructions come from Mistress Alluvior or sometimes Master Grimoult, they know more of what the river brings than we do.”

“ Where’s the body now?” demanded Thaindire.

“ Through there,” answered the miller waving a limp arm towards the mill. Thaindire shoved him roughly aside, knocking the fearful man to the floor. He strode past the sobbing wife and entered the mill. Immediately ahead was a set of stairs leading upwards. To the left were the workings of the mill, the various cogs and wheels attached to the great waterwheel on the outside of the mill. Straight ahead, through the bowels of the mill, was the rear door, which was wide open.

“ Damn!” cursed Thaindire. He pushed through the mill interior and emerged from the rear. Up ahead he saw the detachment of Homunculi round the top of the path, the corpse borne between them. Cursing, Thaindire set off after them, running up the steep path, his legs beginning to ache, his pants wet and clinging to his thighs. Breathing fast he reached the top of the pathway, chest heaving from the exertion as he saw the Homunculi reach the still cascading waterfall. They did not break their stride as the water parted, like a pair of curtains being drawn apart, admitting the tiny men and their parcel, before closing once again, blocking the way forward.

              Thaindire stood panting, his breath hard and ragged, watching as the waterfall remained in place. He knew that so long as he was here, the water enchantment would remain in place. Still, this Alluvior would join the lengthening list of those would receive judgement when he returned bolstered with his fellow Witch Hunters. His breath returning, Thaindire made his way down the steep path once again. He started to shiver, the effect of the cold air and his drenched state. He walked past the mill, the miller and his wife having disappeared inside again. He pondered what Grimoult and Alluvior wanted with Leventhorp’s corpse. They clearly knew that it was being committed to the water, no doubt that foul abomination, Campion, had alerted them to it being dropped into the river so they could collect it. Thaindire fumbled as he tried to replace his long sword back in the scabbard, the cold causing his fingers to tremble and the sword to shake. With an effort, he slid the blade back into its holder and paced across the glade to the lane beyond. He needed to return to the tavern and remove his sodden clothing and warm himself before the fire. The sky was beginning to dim in colour and evening was approaching, there would be little more he could do about this village until he was dry and rested. He was determined to unearth the secrets, which Aftlain was still maintaining and then he would leave aboard Lancaster’s coach and nobody would stop them leaving this time. He would devise a method of removing Reznik from the equation so that the villager’s self-appointed guardian was ineffectual and thus his wretched imps similarly hamstrung. Yes, he needed to incapacitate the Captain in the next week to guarantee that his departure was not impeded. He did not regard anyone else within the village likely to want to try and stop him departing. There were the brother knights but he had only seen them attend the village once and they seemed content to oversee Aftlain from wherever it was that they resided, rather than attend the village regularly or indeed live within it. No, Captain Reznik was the lynchpin to his escape, deal with him and he would be dashing from Aftlain no doubt aboard a sumptuous coach and bound for Lancester and his Order. With such plotting at the foremost of his mind, Thaindire trudge through the village making his way back to the tavern and the promise of warmth.

By the time Thaindire reached the Last One Inn, the wet and the cold, left him barely able to move. With each step he had taken from the river, the chill had sunk deeper into his flesh, slowing his movement and causing his breathing to labour. Stiffness had taken hold of him, his fingers taking on a blue tinge as he battled to keep going. With a shaking hand he tried to grasp the handle but his numbed fingers ineffectually slithered against the hard iron of the handle.

“ Here, let me,” said a voice beside him and Thaindire slowly swivelled his eyes to see the farmer, Senechal who he had met some days ago, grasp the handle and turn it whilst slipping an arm around Thaindire, who could barely nod his thanks.

              On the threshold of the inn, his legs gave and despite the assistance of Senechal, he dropped down to the floor, trying to curl into a ball as if that would preserve the last of the heat within his body.

“ Samael!” cried Kathryn immediately dashing to his side.

“ What happened to him?” she asked Senechal.

“ No idea. I was just coming to the tavern and saw him walking like an old man across the square. He is soaked to the skin.”

“ Father!” shouted Kathryn. “ Here, help me get him to my room, my fire is well stoked for him.”

“ What is it?” asked Benjamin Dromgoole as he appeared from the rear of the tavern. “ It’s Samael, he is frozen and soaked,” explained Kathryn placing a hand to his cheek, feeling the iciness of his skin.

“ Help Fenton get him up,” she ordered. The landlord lumbered forward and just as he had carried Thaindire when he arrived at Aftlain, placed his broad shoulder under Thaindire’s right arm whilst the sturdy Senechal did the same on the other side. Thaindire felt his head loll to one side, his vision beginning to blur and a strange rushing noise filled his ears.

The two men hastily carried up the stairs and into Kathryn’s room where she was already waiting.

“ Put him on the chair,” she instructed, moving a large, high backed chair in front of the fire. Dromgoole and Senechal carefully placed him on the chair, taking care not to let him slide off. Thaindire slumped against the wood, his limbs shaking uncontrollably.

“ What on earth happened?” asked Kathryn her voice edged with concern as she removed his cloak, tossing it to one side. Grunting, she heaved his sodden tunic off over his head, letting the wet garment slap to the floor. Next her nimble fingers unbuckled his belt, letting his scabbarded sword fall away as she unbuttoned his trousers. Thaindire felt his boots being removed and then he was lifted slightly and jolted as Kathryn pulled down his pants.

“ Bring me some Firebrandy, father,” asked Kathryn.

“ Right. Come on Fenton, you’ve done your bit,” responded the landlord.

Thaindire felt something rough buffeting him as Kathryn dried him down with a rag and then a blanket was placed around him, then another about his legs. He could see a blur of orange and yellow in front of him but felt no heat from the fire, only a deep, deep cold that snatched at his soul. His head ached, as if any icy tendril was wrapped around it, the chill circling his brow and then driving down his face.

              A glass was raised to his mouth and his teeth rattled against it as he opened his mouth, somebody’s hand cupping the underside of his jaw and then a liquid spilled into his mouth. The glass continued to be tipped and the liquid kept flowing as he swallowed and a great gulp of Firebrandy travelled down his throat. The glass was removed and his lips gently wiped.

              Still he shook, his legs felt leaden, his arms heavy and useless by his sides. The blanket was pulled back from his chest and a hand, the lightness of touch suggested that it was Kathryn, began to rub something onto him. Within seconds he felt a slight tingle and then a ripple before a sudden surge began in his stomach and started to radiate out from it. Delicious warmth slowly made its way from his innards, travelling outwards, combined with a second patch of heat about his chest. Thaindire gave out a low moan as the numbness started to recede under the onslaught of heat. It percolated into his arms and then he could feel a sensation in his fingers, which he slowly flexed. The warmth made its way up over his face, feeling like a strong flush of embarrassment until he was enveloped in waves of warmth that washed up and down across his entire body. Elated at the pain having been eradicated, he lifted his head and opened his eyes, his vision now clear. He blinked once, then again, his sharp blue eyes focussing on the room as he then felt the heat of the fire before him.

“ What was that?” he asked slowly.

“ A generous measure of Firebrandy, it really is quite marvellous and then the application of Therum’s Balm on your chest to aid the warming. You will need to stay by the fire until you are properly warmed; the Firebrandy and the balm were to stop you falling into a stupor with the cold,” explained Kathryn tapping a circular pot which she held in her hands. She set the pot down on the mantelpiece and turned her concerned gaze on Thaindire.

“ So, what happened to get you in that state?” she asked.

“ The river.”

“ The river? You fell in?”

“ Not quite. The river came at me when I was down by the mill.”

“ Ah, Harriet Alluvior,” remarked Kathryn with a confirmatory nod.

“ That’s right.”

“ What did you do to annoy her then? Not that it takes much,” queried the landlord’s daughter as she adjusted the blankets to ensure that he remained as fully covered as possible.

“ I caught her and the Maunsells, along with the alchemist’s tiny helpers plucking the corpse of Kendra Leventhorp from the river,” explained Thaindire feeling the first stirrings of some strength returning to him.

“ And they didn’t take kindly to you finding them fishing?”

“ It would seem so. Who is this Alluvior?”

“ She is a water enchantress. Lives down by the river, bit of a recluse really. Something of an expert at fishing oddly enough, she catches them for the village. Seems to have some way of controlling the river, father says it is an ancient art,” continued Kathryn as she made her way about the room, carefully lighting a number of thick yellow coloured candles.

“ She’s a witch you mean,” commented Thaindire.

“ You might say that I suppose,” answered Kathryn with a dismissive shrug. “ You should have just left them be.”

“ They were interfering with a dead girl,” responded Thaindire quickly, unable to conceal his anger. “ That is wrong.”

“ Well, they evidently have their reasons. What did they do with the corpse then? Did you manage to stop them?”

“No, Maunsell delayed me while the miniature men scurried their prize away to Alluvior’s dwelling. She used some kind of glyph to create a waterfall, which stopped me going along the path any further.”

“ You are better off away from her, she is an odd one,” offered Kathryn, “ Plus she smells of fish,” and at that she stuck her tongue out pulling a distasteful face.

“ Feeling better?” she asked placing a hand on his shoulder.

“ Yes, I am warming up, thank you,” answered Thaindire.

“ Good,” smiled Kathryn. She lit another two candles set on the mantelpiece and after a few moments an aroma of apples and cinnamon drifted through the air towards him. Kathryn walked across to her dresser, in front of the window, through which Thaindire could see the sky turning azure as darkness descended on the village. She reached for a slender cylindrical bottle and pulled out the stopper, tilting the bottle against her neck on either side, applying some scent and then doing the same across the top of her breasts. She returned the stopper and gently placed the bottle back amongst the mass of glass.

“ Quite a collection,” remarked Thaindire.

“ Yes, I made them all,” answered Kathryn sweeping an arm before the array of perfumes.

“ Really?”

“ Yes, it is what I do. You didn’t think my expertise was in the serving of ale and mopping of floors did you?” she turned shooting him an inquisitive look.

“ I wasn’t sure, truth be told,” confessed Thaindire.

“ Yes, I make scents for myself and also to sell beyond the village. Father takes them to Lancester and there is a merchant there who buys them and sells them further a field I think. They are very special you see. This once will bring a sense of calm to those who smell it,” she commented placing a finger on top of a bottle holding a deep blue liquid. “ This one will bring good cheer.” Her fingers danced across to alight on a squat bottle containing a sparkling gold liquid

. “ This one induces slumber, this is best for imbuing one with a sense of urgency, another to bring about love, this one to generate rage, they all have differing properties you see and this one,” her fingers floated through the air and landed on the thin bottle she had used on herself, “ is the most potent one I have made for arousing passion.”

“ Something told me you would have such a scent,” admitted Thaindire.

“ Why Master Thaindire, do these charms not work to arouse you?” she laughed pushing her hands to her full breasts, accentuating them, before lifting her skirt to show off her lithe legs.

“ Now you mock me,” responded Thaindire averting his gaze and staring into the flames of the fire.

“ Come now, you know that not to be true,” she skipped over to the seated Thaindire and gently pushed her fingers through his still damp white hair. Thaindire shifted his head in irritation as he caught the smell of her perfume. It made his head swim within seconds, the heat increasing throughout his body. Kathryn stepped away from him, the aroma receding again.

“ I heard you talking with Master Lancaster earlier,” she declared.

“ Eavesdropping were we?”

“ Oh no, it is hard to miss your voices, both so distinctive,” replied the young woman. “ What did he want?”

“ What makes you think he wanted something, Kathryn?”

“ Master Lancaster is always wanting. It is his natural countenance. So, pray, do tell.”

“ He wanted me to act as his protector.”

“ Thought he might.”

“ What makes you say that?”

“ He is no fool. He wants to secure your allegiance and keep you in the village,” commented Kathryn as she sat on the edge of the bed, to Thaindire’s right.

“ Not so, he wants me to escort him to Lancester,” countered Thaindire, twisting in his seat to face Kathryn.

“ Is that what he told you?”

“ Yes.”

“ False promises, issued so easily.”

“ You yourself said he was a guest here, that he stays to escape his wife,” asserted Thaindire.

“ Indeed I did and that is most true.”

“ Well, if it is true, he will return to her won’t he and leave Aftlain.”

“ Did I say his wife lived away from Aftlain?” remarked Kathryn arching an eyebrow as she loosened the strands on her top.

“ She lives in the village of that there is no doubt but he prefers to reside in the inn so he can get on with what best pleases him.”

“ You mean cavort with young women and imbibe strange concoctions,” snorted Thaindire.

“ Pretty much.”

“ Have you no scruples?” muttered Thaindire.

“ I prefer to let people live their lives as they see fit. Tolerance is a marvellous trait, you ought to let it into your heart Samael,” commented Kathryn as she began to unbutton her corset.

“ What are you doing?” asked Thaindire as the corset was placed to one side and in one movement; Kathryn removed her top exposing herself. Thandire looked back at the fire once again.

“ Undressing, Samael,” said Kathryn softly.

“ I must ask you not to.”

“ Too late.,” answered the landlord’s daughter as Thaindire heard the sound of fabric sliding to the floor. She moved back into his view, naked, her pale skin seeming to glow in the fire and candlelight. With a dart of her hand she whipped the lower blanket away and before Thaindire could react she peeled open the blanket that had been wrapped about his torso. A wave of scent crashed against him and the light-headedness returned, a sense of calm swept over him as he felt his arms relax and flop to his sides. Kathryn took a moment to regard his athletic body, not overly muscular but defined and a body which belonged to someone who was always moving.

“ My darling Samael,” Kathryn whispered as she straddled Thaindire. He could not help but let a sigh escape his lips as he felt her thighs encompass him and the swell of her breasts press against his own chest. She pushed the blanket back further, exposing his shoulders as he felt a rushing sensation from the depths of his stomach and climbing up into his chest. Her scent was now enveloping him, like a sea lapping against him, buffeting him repeatedly with the captivating aroma, which left him enraptured by her presence.

              Kathryn smiled, cupping his face in her hands and staring intently into his piercing blue eyes.

“ Be mine, my handsome man,” she spoke softly.

Thaindire tried to fight the growing arousal, which overtook him. He fought to ring his heart with ice but he could not, the intoxication of Kathryn’s scent and her beguiling body had him fixated.

“ Stay in Aftlain, stay with me,” exhorted Kathryn as she writhed against him. He felt his own instinctive reaction to the delight of her caressing flesh against him and her eyes flared wide in recognition of his reaction.