A Bad Spell In Yurt by C Dale Brittain

Author:C Dale Brittain
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, 9780671720759
ISBN: 0671720759

PART FIVE

The Stranger

I

I was relieved to be heading home again. The queen seemed also to be glad to go,

although the king, bidding the duchess an affectionate farewell, appeared to have enjoyed his visit thoroughly. I guessed that he had no idea the cousins were not highly fond of each other. But while the queen was merely happy to be

leaving the duchess behind, I was eager to get back to the castle of Yurt and reassure myself nothing had happened in our absence. We had received no messages

via the pigeons, and had not expected to, but if the castle had been swallowed

by a giant hole in the earth they might not have had time to release the pigeons.

Packed in my saddlebags were the books I had found in the room of the old ducal

wizard. I had quite brazenly stolen them, reassuring myself that it was not theft to take something no one wanted. They had clearly been undisturbed for thirty years, and if the duchess did indeed hire someone from the wizards'

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C. Dale Brittain

A Bad Spell in Yurt

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school, as she had threatened to do, he would probably throw them out immediately.

At dusk we came out of the woods and up the hill toward the castle. A chill wind

mixed with a little sleet whipped about our ears, and our horses were eager for

the stables. I looked up, expecting to see welcoming lights shining out, and instead saw only the castle's dark shape against the dark sky.

"The constable knew we were coming home today," said the queen in surprise.

"Everyone may just be sitting warm in the kitchen," said the king.

A chill had gone through me far colder than the sleet. I looked toward Joachim

and saw that a similar fear had gripped him, for he had reached into his saddlebag and taken out his crucifix. He too, I thought, must have been feeling

that elusive sense of evil in the castle, and he must have been worried about it

in ways that he never told me.

"At least the drawbridge is down," said one of the knights. The king's optimism

was not shared by the rest of our party.

For a brief moment we hesitated by the bridge, looking in through the gates toward the dark and silent courtyard. Then the king said cheerfully, "They'll light the lights as soon as they hear us. Just don't let your horses slip going

in!" He led the way, the rest of us following single-file behind.

No one spoke as we crossed the bridge and then the courtyard toward the lightless stables, out our horses' hooves on the cobblestones and the bells on

their bridles made a sound that should have awakened any sleeper. There was an

abrupt clattering sound from the direction of the great hall, then to my intense

relief I heard the constable's voice. "On!" he shouted, and all the magic lamps

in the hall blazed into light.

More lights came on then around the castle, and the constable ran out to meet us, disheveled and

embarrassed. "Forgive me, sire," he said, holding the king's stirrup while he dismounted.

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