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"Lower the bridge!" they heard the shouted command and then the
drawbridge came creaking down. The squeal of chains and the groaning of
the wooden beams drowned out most others sounds, though ghostly echos
could be heard rebounding from the walls of the ravine below their feet.
They stepped back from the cliff edge as the drawbridge touched ground
with a bang.
"You may enter, but your weapons must be left sheathed, we permit
no trouble or fighting within the keep." the voice yelled down to them.
"We have not come to fight." Turstin yelled back. He lead them
across the wooden bridge and stopped within the gatehouse. The inner gate
was shut, as they stood before the thick ironstudded doors, the bridge
began to rise and the outer portcullis slowly lowered, a row of sharpened
spikes sinking into slots set in the paving stones.
"They seem an untrusting lot." said Fulbert.
"They have need to be. These are wild lands." Turstin replied.
"The air seems thin," said Giannette, "I feel light headed."
"We all need a rest, a drink and a meal. " said Turstin. "You will
feel better after."
"Its not that..." Giannette began. A small door within the larger
gate unlatched and swung open, a small courtyard lay beyond and another
wall. "...nevermind." Giannette said quietly. She felt as if a haze
had been before her eyes, in the moment between two eyeblinks she thought
she'd seen a darkness stain the walls and ground, a wavering space where
the gate stood and a dark shape hidden by shadow lying in a corner by the
wall.
The sun shown brightly down, it was rising to its zenith, and it
lit the courtyard revealing every well cared for inch of stone and wood.
Turstin blinked as he stepped through the door, where had the morning
gone, he thought, it must be nearly noon. He shaded his eyes with his
right hand and turned first to the left then to the right.
A tall thin man in plate stood on the right. He wore no helm, his
hair was black streaked with grey and very short as was his close cropped
beard. Beside him stood a heavy man, his round belly filing out his robes,
he bore a wax tablet and a stylus, waiting to take down their names and
business with the keep. These two were flanked by a pair of armored guards
in plate and mail. their helms were rounded with a wide brim, their faces
shadowed by the noonday sun.
"Who be you and what is your business?" the tall man asked, his
voice deep and gruff.
"I am Turstin of West Town, I have come...I have been asked to..."
Turstin stammered and looked confused.
"Are you ill?" asked the scribe, a note of worry in his voice.
"I'm fine, my apologies, it must be the sun." Turstin answered.
"I, we, have come to find Draupnir's silver, I mean escort it, a wagon
from the mine... I said this before."
"Did you indeed." the tall man said haughtily, but even as he
spoke the words a look of panic touched his eyes. He shook his head and
wiped his face with his hand. "Did you?" he asked but spoke to the air.
"You will need to speak with the commander."
"Commanders sick!" one of the guards volunteered.
"Yes I know that, I remember." the tall man snapped. "Penard'un
is in charge, he can speak with her."
"What is your name?" he turned back to Turstin.
"I told you... I am Turstin of West Town."
"Yes, yes,...you said, I remember." he put both his hands against
his head. "Something wrong, something wrong..." he muttered, "go take them
to the baliff, get them away..."
Giannette saw a dark cloud pass before the tall mans face, she
gasped, as the cloud went past, the face became a bloody wound, and then
was just pale flesh again. "There is something wrong." she said and
swooned. Alaric caught her by the arm before she fell and Fulbert held
her by the shoulder.
"Yes lets get out of this sun." Turstin said to the guard who
spoke to them of the commanders illness.
"This way," the guard pointed to the south. "Esus," he called to
the other guard, "keep an eye on the corporal.
"Will do Gyffe, but will you be all right." the guard, Esus, gave
the group a suspicious look.
"I'll be fine," Gyffe replied. "Now," he said to Turstin, "come
with me, the baliff's is down there on the end."
Behind him the tall man leaned back against the wall and slid down
as if his legs had lost there strength. "Gyffe!" the guardsman cried out
in alarm.
"You stay here." Gyffe told the group. He called up to the
gatehouse. "Lleu! get the sergeant of the watch, the corporal has
collapsed!"
* * *
(To Be Continued)