Once Upon A Dreadful Time by McKiernan Dennis L

Author:McKiernan, Dennis L.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: PENGUIN group

32

Putrescence

ith the twigs of her besom smoking and threatening to Wburst into flame, down Hradian spiralled toward the town, while the wizard Orbane laughed in glee and crowed, “Not only have I escaped the Great Darkness, I sent a fearsome enemy into that dreadful void.”

“My lord,” gasped Hradian, “I am too weary to go onward, and my broom needs new willow twigs, else it will fly like nought more than a stick.”

“Very well, Acolyte, come to rest in the village, for I would have food and drink and entertainment. Too, I would have you stanch my leg.”

They came to ground in the center of the hamlet, and faces peered out through the windows of the inn, stark with mouths agape. Shocked villagers cried out in fear and rushed into homes and slammed shut the doors, though should the wizard or witch want in, there was nought could be done to stop them.

Limping slightly, Orbane strode toward the hostel, where a white-lettered but otherwise black sign proclaimed the place to be Le Mur Noir. Hradian followed, though she paused a moment to dunk the glowing end of her besom into the horse trough to extinguish the smoldering twigs. She caught up with her master as he stepped across the porch, the door opening at his gesture. The innkeeper quailed to see the wizard and witch enter his small establishment. He started to bolt but, with whispered word and a casual wave, Orbane arrested his flight. And Hradian ground her teeth in envy, for this was a spell she could not master. Oh, her three sisters could do so, and they had laughed at her pitiful attempts, but the spell was simply beyond her grasp. Even so, she was much better with herbal magery than they, and in turn she had laughed at them.

“Food and drink, fool,” Orbane snarled at the innkeeper, “for I have had neither lately.”

Hradian frowned. “My lord?”

Orbane snorted. “One of the foulnesses of that loathsome castle, Acolyte: neither food nor drink are provided or needed. One cannot enjoy a good meal or a fine vintage, or the simple pleasure of emptying one’s bladder or bowels.”

Orbane again gestured at the innkeeper. The man jerked about and faced the wizard, and then slumped as he was released.

“M-my lord,” he stuttered, “I have b-but simple fare: a joint of beef, a flagon of ale, a loaf of bread is all I can provide.”

“Away, and bring it,” commanded Orbane, and he stepped into the common room.

Patrons therein blenched as wizard and witch entered. Orbane looked ’round, then gestured. “Out!” he commanded, but then, even as they stood to go, Orbane’s eyes lit up and he said, “Non, wait. Hommes out, femmes remain.”

The women sat down as the men left, some bolting, others reluctant and in tears yet helpless to do ought else.

Orbane drew down his trousers. “Acolyte, deal with my leg.”

Hradian unslung her rucksack and rummaged about within. She withdrew packets of herbs and simples and bandages. Even as she treated his

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