They
were black shapes in the silvery mist, thirteen sniffing, hounding
shapes--creatures of shadow and night. The
island fog glowed silver in the moonlight as they hunted up and down the
southern beach of Iys, following the scent that had been drawing them for days.
Once, long ago,
they had dwelt in daylight, but now they lived a dreary half-life--somewhere
between living and dying, between the hounds they had once been and the monsters
they were becoming. They were the
nakrim, bred by the shadow to hunt and kill.
And they were close to their prey.
Mossdown
Manor stood on a lonely promontory on the desolate western edge of the isle of
Iys. In ages past the manor had
been a great fortress, formed of three strong watchtowers, each chiseled in the
likeness of an ancient hero: one Man, one Underlander, one Eludoi.
At one time it might have been said that the heroes stood back to back as
brothers in battle; but the passing years had worn on them so that now they
seemed to have stubbornly turned their backs on each other to frown at the
world. Like the names of the
ancient heroes, the towers stood almost forgotten, and stared vacantly over
Wyndham Eld. The east tower faced
the lands of Men in Par Telion; the grim south tower looked toward the unseen
mountains of Dwir Manath where the Underlanders dwelt; and the west tower gazed
nobly to the Sea and the Lands Beyond to where the Eludoi had vanished.
On a cold gray
evening in the late of winter, the eyes of the west tower were gleaming with a
fiery light that every so often twinkled oddly blue.
Behind those eyes lay the writing chamber of Fosco Brandystout, current
master of Mossdown, and one of the few who had not forgotten the towers' ancient
history.
Inside the
high tower room, a fire blazed in the hearth, and candles slowly melted in their
sconces. The chamber smelled of
sea-air and leather bookbindings. Fosco's
wife Milly sat on a large couch with their two sons, Willem and Nib, while
Milly's brother Derry sat by the fire with legs outstretched.
Over by the window, facing the sea, Elias the Blind chewed slowly on a
chunk of bread. The remains of a
large feast lay scattered on a long table at the rear of the room.
Fosco himself was
hunched over a scattered pile of manuscripts at his great oak desk.
An historian and translator, Fosco looked somewhat owlish behind his
large spectacles. He was reading
his translation of The Battle of Par Molten to Elias, who made comments
and suggestions every so often.
Around Fosco's
neck hung a silver chain, and at the end of the chain was a great sapphire.
As Fosco occasionally fingered it, the sapphire would catch the firelight
and throw blue shadows across the chamber.
The sapphire was ringed in threads that gleamed like silver.
Milly watched him
from the across the room, smiling. She
had spent the past year making her gift for Fosco, and it pleased her to see how
much he liked it. She had bought
the chain in Iyston, but the silver-threaded ring which surrounded the sapphire
she had woven from strands of her own gray hair.
Her
glance drifted down to her left hand, at the shining band of gold around her
finger. Fosco's gift had been
perfect. Ten years was too long to
be married without wedding bands. She
hoped her hints had not been too obvious. Where
had he found the rings? She thought
she knew. Fosco had been very
worried about Elias' two-month absence, more nervous than he usually was about
the blind man's travels. She saw
that Fosco must have arranged for Elias to bring the rings back with him from
Par Telion.
The baby
moved inside her, so she changed positions on the couch.
Young Willem placed his hand on her belly, fascinated.
"How did it
get in there, Mama?" he asked suddenly.
Fosco stopped his
reading and looked over, blinking. Derry
chuckled.
"Well,"
she stuttered, "it, ah--" She
looked to Fosco for help. He merely
shrugged.
"I
know!" said Nib.
"You don't
know," said Willem, "you're only five!"
"The snow
brought it, just like it brought Daddy," Nib finished.
"Right, Mama?"
Willem snorted.
"The snow didn't bring Daddy."
"Did
too," said Nib, raising his nose at his brother.
"Mama, tell us again how the snow brought Daddy!"
Milly looked over
at Fosco and smiled. "No,"
she said, "it's time for bed."
"Please
Mama," Nib pleaded, "tell us how you met Daddy."
Milly sat up and smoothed the folds of her dress.
"All right." It was their anniversary, after all.
"But after that it's off to bed for the both of you."
The
boys nodded vigorously then snuggled into their mother's shoulders, carefully
avoiding her large round belly.
She began
in a whisper. "One winter
morning long ago, when the rest of the world was asleep, I heard a strange
little noise out my window."
"It was
Daddy!" cried Nib.
"Ssh!"
Willem hissed, "let Mama tell it."
Milly frowned at
Willem then turned to his brother. "That's
right Nib, it was Daddy, though of course I didn't know it.
I was only five, just your age."
"And Uncle
Derry was seven, just like me!" shouted Willem.
"I certainly
was, Will," muttered Derry from his chair in front of the fireplace.
He wagged a thick finger and cocked an eye at the boy.
"But I had more sense than to go poking around at strange
noises."
Milly raised an
eyebrow. "Who's telling this
story?"
"Go on, go
on," Derry chuckled. He leaned back and put his hands behind his head.
"Well,"
Milly continued, "the noise wouldn't stop, so I looked out my window and
saw a little bundle lying in the snow. I
ran outside as fast as I could--"
"--without
your shoes on!" Willem and Nib yelled together, laughing.
"Yes,
without my shoes on. The little
bundle wiggled and squirmed, and made cute little cooing sounds."
Fosco rolled his
eyes. Willem and Nib were
entranced.
"So, I slowly
opened the bundle, and there inside I found--"
"--Daddy!" Nib cried.
"He drifted down from the sky just like a snowflake and he smiled at
you and you fell in love and knew that you would marry him for ever and
ever!"
"That's
right," Milly said. "I
should let you tell the story next time."
"Don't forget
the end!"
"Why don't
you finish it?"
Nib closed his
eyes, trying to remember the way Mama always told it.
"And there in the folds of the blanket lay the most beautiful blue
stone in the world, and it winked in the sunshine like a bright eye."
"Very
good!" said Milly. She gave
him a big hug. "Now the two of
you go say goodnight to Daddy and Elias."
But Willem was not
through. "Did that really
happen, Daddy?" he asked. "Don't
you have parents?"
"Of
course I do," Fosco answered. "But
I never knew my real parents. As
for being found in the snow, I'm afraid I was too young to remember.
Does that bother you?"
"No.
I just wondered how I got here, and if maybe I was left in the snow like
you."
Fosco
looked in Milly's eyes, then came over and hugged Willem.
"No, son, you are here because your mother and I love each other
very much, and we wanted to share that love with children.
Someday I'll explain it to you. For
now, know that we love you deeply, and that's why you're here."
"But why are
you here? Someone must have loved
you, didn't they?"
Fosco closed his
eyes and held Willem tighter. "Yes," he whispered, "I suppose that's
true."
"But who left
you in the snow?"
"That's
enough questions for tonight," Milly said.
Derry stood up and
stretched. "I'll take them
down with me, Emilia, if you like," he said, gathering up the dishes in his
burly arms. "Now I know why we
never eat up in any of the towers. Come
here, boys, and help your tired uncle carry these dishes down to the manor
house."
After they had
gone Milly and Fosco stood at the window looking to the west.
"You have a
smart son, Fosco," said Milly.
"I just wish
I knew the answers to Willem's questions."
"Someday you
will find the answers."
He looked into her
eyes. "I have all the answers
I need," he said, holding her close. "Thank
you for finding me, Emilia Brandystout."
"I'm not so
sure that it wasn't you who found me that morning in the snow," she said.
"I fell in love and knew that I would marry you for ever and
ever. I pray that forever never
comes."
They stood there
for a long while, watching the moonlight dance on the waves.
Elias had moved to
the fireplace, and sat wrapped in a gray cloak.
His face was somber and the scarred hollows where his eyes used to be
stared off into nowhere.
"You've been
fairly quiet this evening," Milly said to Elias after a time.
"I am
sorry," he said in a low voice. "I am in a melancholy mood tonight.
Forgive me."
"Well I am
going to bed," she said. "Tell Fosco all about your journey to Par Telion and
drink a pint of Iyston ale. Perhaps
that will cheer you up."
Elias smiled and
stood up. "Good night, Lady of
Mossdown," he said. "There
is not a kingdom in all of Wyndham Eld worthy enough of your beauty."
Milly laughed.
"You only say that because you've never seen me."
Elias came and
gave her a firm hug. "On the
contrary," he replied, "I see with the only eyes that matter--the eyes
of the heart."
Milly blushed.
"I'm married, you old rogue. Now
don't stay up too late." She
took a candle from the table, kissed Fosco good night and went down the long
flight of stairs that led to the courtyard and from there to the manor house.
After Milly had
gone, Fosco and Elias sat before the fire drinking.
Fosco had always found Elias hard to read, but tonight he was even more
inscrutable than ever.
Fosco had so many
things he wanted to say. A restlessness had been growing in him these past months, an
ache for something that he could see only vaguely.
And he wanted to tell Elias what he had discovered about the stone.
"It's been
quiet here without you," he began.
Elias
stirred a bit, then nodded. "Believe
me, I would have rather been here."
"Why, what
happened?"
The old man
sighed heavily. "Things are
changing, Fosco, and not for the better, I fear.
People speak dark tidings all through the realm."
"What
tidings?"
"I will not
speak of such things in the dark," Elias said.
"But I am uneasy."
"Then what of
your errand?" Fosco asked. He
poured himself another mug. "Did
you find what you were seeking?"
"I did
not."
"Then must
you leave again? Not soon I hope.
Milly and I were hoping you would be here when the baby comes--a week at
the latest, we think."
"I will stay if I can, but I make no
promises." And he would say no
more. After a few more drinks he
bade Fosco good night and went off to the room that he had adopted as his own
down in the manor house.
