Michael Manning - The Line of Illeniel

Take extra caution in your own dealings. Now that George is gone you are the last known descendant of one of the great lines, not that I have to remind you of that.

Please give my regards to your companion, Elena. Though I have not met her I have heard she was good friends with Phillip Balistair. According to all accounts he died well. Had it not been for Nathan’s treachery I am sure he would have kept George safe.

Your Friend,

My father had been friends with another wizard of the old families. That shouldn’t have surprised me, but then I had never known any of them. More interesting was the name ‘Phillip Balistair’. I wondered if he was some relative of Elizabeth Balistair, who I had met last year when she visited Lancaster. From the wording I assumed he was the Anath’Meridum of George Prathion. Too many new facts were rattling around in my skull and I struggled to put them all in place.

More curious was the way the letter was signed, ‘V’. The only person with a V in their name of the royal family in Gododdin, that I knew of, was Valerius; the ill-fated last king of that country. That didn’t mean much of course, my knowledge of royal bloodlines was next to nothing. The royal Graeling family could have had a dozen members with names beginning in the letter ‘v’. I only happened to know Valerius’ name because he had been the last king there.

Had King Edward known of Tyndal’s connections to Gododdin? There were too many things I was ignorant of. Considering what had happened at Lancaster last year many of those things might be deadly. Ignorance would be no shield if more of my father’s old enemies came knocking on my door.

“Mordecai…” Penny’s voice came to me from the hall. “Let’s find something to eat, the daylight is waning.” My stomach agreed with her, so I got up and we went in search of Rose, hoping she would know of a good place to eat.

Royce Eldridge stood quietly by the outer gate. Since his son had left a week gone by there had been two more disappearances. Consequently Dorian had asked all the outlying villagers to sleep within the castle confines at night. It was a pain for the families that had to leave their homes each evening but they didn’t complain much. Safety was a welcome trade-off for fear. The new town militia couldn't possibly patrol all the outer farms.

The outer curtain wall of Castle Cameron was still in good condition and encircled most of Washbrook. The families that had to relocate each evening found places to sleep with friends and relatives that lived inside the wall. The few who had nowhere to go slept in the completed portion of the castle garrison.

Dorian and Joe McDaniel had done a good job organizing the men of Washbrook into a passable militia. Most of them kept to their normal jobs during the daytime, while a few would remain on duty guarding the gates. The daytime positions were rotated so that no one’s livelihood would be too greatly impacted and they all took turns. At night the men of the village would take up arms and work in shifts to watch the gates, of which there were two. Several would patrol the tops of the walls as well to ensure no one snuck over.

The children were kept busy during the daytime preparing torches and oil lanterns to light the tops of the walls and the areas around the gates. The nighttime shifts and daytime guard positions meant that more work fell on the shoulders of the women of Washbrook but they managed it well. The people of the town were used to hard work. They were a community under siege, but strong organization and constant activity kept fear at bay.

Royce looked over at the other man standing guard at the main gate with him. David Tanner was a lean man, slim and rangy. His work tanning leathers and hides had given him a chronic cough from the fumes but he seemed sturdy enough otherwise. Like Royce he wore a heavy leather jerkin and carried a spear.

David’s daughter had been one of the first to disappear but despite his tragedy Royce found it hard to work up much sympathy for the man. He complained too much and had a tendency to fall asleep when he wasn’t talking. Royce preferred him asleep as opposed to listening to his constant bitching. He’d never cut it in a smithy, Royce thought to himself.

The night was growing darker. No moon and an overcast sky ensured that it would soon be pitch black out. A lantern on a pole some twenty feet from the gate provided most of their light. It had been Joe McDaniel’s idea to post lanterns away from gates, that way they provided more illumination of the surrounding area, instead of just highlighting the guards at their posts.

Royce nudged the other man, David had just started to drift off again, “Come on, it’s time shut the gate.” You’ll be able to sleep better on the battlements anyway, he thought uncharitably.

“Alright, I’m about tired of standing out here,” Tanner responded. Lifting his spear he turned to walk back inside the gate. A third man, Sam Turner stood within, next to the warning bell. “Give me a hand with the doors Sam.” Tanner said.

Royce was about to turn and follow him in when he heard a sound. Years hunting deer in the Duke’s forest had given him keen ears, but this was no deer. “Who’s out there?” he called.

Sam had one of the two gate doors in place and David had his side halfway closed. Once the two met in the center they would throw the heavy bar to lock them in place, but they paused when they heard Royce’s voice. Sam looked out to see Royce backing slowly toward the opening. He thought he could see the form of a smaller person approaching from the darkness but it was still indistinct. “Royce, do I need to hold the gate for someone?” Sam asked.

Royce had already recognized the person walking toward them; it was Rebecca Miller, the third person to go missing. She had been gone for almost three weeks now and Royce already knew the full details of Mordecai’s encounter with what had been Sadie Tanner. He backed steadily toward the gap in the gate doors, “No Sam, I think we’d best lock up tight as soon as I get through the gate.” He never took his eyes off the form of the thirteen year old girl walking steadily toward him. Two more steps and he would be inside. Rebecca was only ten feet away now.

Sam heard the tension in Royce’s voice. That and the fact that he didn’t turn his head to speak told him everything he needed to know, but David Tanner wasn’t so quick to understand. The light clearly showed the girl approaching when David spoke up, “Hey now! Isn’t that Rebecca Miller?” He started to step away from the gate but Sam grabbed his shoulder.

“Wait up David,” Sam said.

“Will you let me in? I’m ever so hungry and I’ve had nothing these past few days,” came a curiously monotone voice from the girl.

“What’s your name girl?” Royce asked. He had stopped backing up since it was clear he wouldn’t be able to get them to close the gate doors till the girl’s identity was settled.

“I can’t remember. Won’t you help me?” she replied. She was only feet from him now and might have gotten closer but Royce had his spear down, pointing squarely at her chest.

David shook off Sam’s hand and stepped out, “It’s Rebecca. Dammit Royce, stop pointing that thing at her. She’s just a girl!” Shoving Royce’s spear aside he reached out to take the teenager’s arm, she eagerly clasped his hand.

“Don’t touch her!” Royce shouted, but it was too late. David Tanner struggled to pull away from the girl, a look of terror on his face as he felt the dark pull on his spirit. She had both hands on him now and she held him with incredible strength. Royce didn’t wait; jerking his spear back into line he impaled the young girl on it, driving the long bladed head through her torso.