"Almar Gothurdle and the Silver Bane: Chapter 3" by Jermaine Leroy Joseph

3:

They found the people that had vacated the corridor gathered together in the golden haired woman’s room. As they entered each head swung to them. The Distraught Wife actually gasped. Frowning, Almar followed Guido into the room, and slowly closed the door. He felt that these people should at least be offered some semblance of security. Guido flicked a hand to his left and the five candles, one for each corner of the room and one for the table, burst into life with golden flames flickering. Almar saw that none of those present evidenced concern or surprise at this, and noted it. Surely that was not right? With a brief shake of his head he banished these doubts. He could not suspect everyone of murder, at least not yet, anyway. Guido looked at him, trying to ask something that Almar could not grasp and then came to him.
“The extremely pretty lady is called Gabriella Drake, she saw two people walking towards each other and then… she would not tell me. She would only say that you must hear it for yourself, and believe her if you wish.” He whispered shortly. Nodding in response, Almar locked his hands behind his back and took a step in the light. What they all saw made them gasp as one, but he had no time to wonder.
“There has been a death this night.” He said with no preamble. “And I have reason to believe that it is someone inside this sleepy village that did it. Great reason in fact, since there is no other place near here that could possibly house a murderer.” He paused, waiting for one of them to speak. It was Miss Gabriella Drake that wet her lips and stood up.
“What about the Calm Spire itself?” She asked lowly. Almar nodded, having thought the same thing upon seeing the body. The road that the dead woman had been found on led straight to the tower. In fact, it was, he assumed, the same road that he had seen the creature running. Yet, he had a fear. This was not the work of a beast. A beast would not have the cunning to leave the body unharmed, turning it only to silver. It was a creature, to be sure but…
“You speak well, Miss Drake.” He said softly. “But I do not feel that the murderer came from the direction that you believe. Unless you have some other reason to think so…”
“I saw a person standing in the rain. They seemed to be looking for something hidden within the cart by the road.” She looked at the window and then shuddered. “They looked up and saw me, and I ducked away. You may think me a sorry person to have acted so sheepishly upon being sighted, but I would not want to be known as a voyeur.” Almar nodded and saw Guido bring a chair for him to sit down on. With a grateful nod he sat and drummed his fingers on his sore leg. At least the pain had lessened. Guido turned his indigo eyes on the people in the room.
“Yet,” he said. “You still looked back outside of the window, didn’t you?” She nodded, whimpering a little. “And what exactly did you see, Gabriella… if I may call you that?” He paused and she smiled. He nodded, smiling wanly back.
“You will think me addled or worse.” Flicking her tresses forwards over her shoulder, she began to brush it again. Almar watched this intently and then nodded for her to go on. “I saw a ghost touch the figure and then the shrieks started. He turned the hooded person into silver.”
“You saw this?” Cocking his eyebrow, nodding, Almar scratched at the stubble growing on his chin and resumed drumming his fingers. He noticed that the others were watching Gabriella Drake with some mixture of emotions. “Could it not have been iron, or magnesium or some other metal?” She shook her head violently.
“My father used to be a blacksmith, and worked with such metals. It was silver, I am sure.” The woman pursed her lips together in a seeming act of concentration. “I heard words after the last shriek, before I came out of room. Words spoken below my window, though not to me: Beware the Silver Bane.” She exhaled suddenly and Guido led her to sit on the edge of her bed. Almar watched this, fascinated, and then turned his attention back to the others.
“Miss, I know not your name.” He looked at the Distraught Wife and then started when Guido tossed him the innkeeper’s book of residency. Sometimes the man could be quite resourceful.
“I borrowed it when he went to his room. I do believe that he and his wife sleep separately.” He said.
“And what of his daughter, Guido...?” Almar saw that the Distraught Wife was having a rather animated and whispered conversation with her husband. It brought a wry smile to his lips that Gabriella Drake sniffed loudly at.
“He has no daughter… ah, I see Almar. No, that slim ghastly thing is his wife. One sleeps beside our room, and that would be Mr. Green himself, alone. By the back of the inn is where his wife sleeps. I heard him call her Alyssa.”
“Thank you.” Opening the book, Almar saw that his name and Guido’s were on the first page. Flicking through the pages he saw that this was the only page that had any writing in at all. The handwriting left a lot to be desired, scruffy at best. Frowning, he put the book onto his lap and looked at the window, thinking. “Is it possible that Miss Alyssa Green could have access to another window, one overlooking the tower?” He asked his friend. It was the Distraught Wife that answered.
“Yes, I was once admitted into her room to talk on womanly topics. It was quite enjoyable.”

Looking into the book again, Almar saw two names: Mr. Greg Burns, and below it in a different hand, much more elegant than that of the innkeeper’s, Mrs. Gina Lorvine Burns. “May I and my friend call you Gina?” The woman started, her round frame quivering under her gown and absurd cap. But she nodded, and Almar sighed, nodding for Guido to ask whatever questions he had.
“Gina…” Guido stood and faced her, smiling faintly as she backed away from his fiercely glowing eyes. “When exactly did you arrive here?”
“We got here the day before yesterday, when the rain began. There were only a few people out that day. I believe that it must have been the weather.”
“Perhaps, and then again perhaps not.” Almar muttered enigmatically. He was wondering why he had not noticed how strange the village had seemed. Only the inn seemed to have people awake. The children reading stories earlier… something did not add up. “Did you arrive in the night?” She nodded and Almar frowned deeper. Seeing his distress, Guido once again took up the mantle. He seemed reluctant to do so.
“And you Gabriella?” He turned so suddenly that for an instant she looked greatly afraid for herself. Then, taking visible strain to compose herself, she shrugged.
“I’ve been here a week actually, I’m waiting for the full moon.” Almar started, his face twisting in confusion.
“The full moon, Miss Drake? And why should that be?”
“I like to travel. The full moon is appropriate to my time schedule.” She answered coldly. Deciding to let it be, Almar shrugged his indifference and stood slowly.
“Master Gothurdle?” The Distraught Wife seemed uncertain. “Do you really believe that a man was turned into silver?” She took a deep breath. “Could it possibly be?”
“You saw as much of the body as I did, Miss. I cannot assume anything without first having a cause to assume it.” He paused as he turned to the door. “But before I bid you all a good night…” he chuckled at his own sarcasm. “I will say this. I believe that someone in this village is a murderer. Having not been to the tower yet, I cannot say what might have come from there. I believe that the tower shall be where I next check for clues. Our safety is the key. Good night.” With a brief wave, Almar fled the room and the stunned, frightened faces that had watched him with near admiration. He hurried to his room, lit a candle with shaking hands and sat on his bed, assembling his rifle within the light. Guido entered just as he had finished. His indigo eyes weighed what he did, seemed to sadden. Then the man was pacing the room, his hands clenched.
“So we’re going to check the Calm Spire tomorrow?”
“No.” Almar grinned widely, saw the look on his friend’s face and then sobered from his mirth. “I said that because I am going. You see, I believe that the murderer is within this inn.” Guido nodded. He had come to the same conclusion. “There is too much about this place that does not feel right. Too many secrets. Could there not be a way to leave the inn via a door similar to the stains on the wall, only hidden more carefully?” Setting his rifle aside, Almar took a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking on something that I saw.” He showed Guido the silver strands of hair and waited. For almost ten minutes the man stared mutely, held them himself and then returned them to Almar’s hand. Still he said nothing.
Finally he said: “Is that the hair of the deceased? Why have me destroy the evidence if you already have some?” Almar shook his head from the start.
“The dead woman’s hair was turned to purest silver. Solid silver, not hair.” He saw the shock on his friend’s face, and the understanding. “This is the hair of the culprit. The hair of a murderer.”
“And yet,” Guido asked slowly. “You wish to check the Calm Spire alone?” Almar nodded. “Why?”
“I believe that it holds some key to this mystery, and that the woman that you are attracted to knows of it.” He saw Guido start, grimace and then resume his pacing. It looked strange to see him stalking so. “I will not be alone. She will be with me. It will look as though I am bringing her into my confidence when I am not. I’ll really be seeing whether she knows more than she lets on.” He paused, thinking. Perhaps Guido would be a better choice… “No, I am set in my ways.” He said aloud. “I will go alone, and follow the woman instead. I am almost certain that she will take me to something enlightening.”
“And me? What should I do then? Stay here and feed ducks? Talk to the innkeeper on how here is nowhere at all?” Guido spoke with a quiet fury that always overcame him when they were in danger. To disarm his rage, Almar frowned, holding out a forestalling hand.
“I require you to check something. It is very important to this mystery. I wish to know where the people of this village are. Knock on that house where we heard the children reading stories.” He paused. “In fact, find out what stories they read. It might be well with us to find out some of the old wives’ tales of Calm Spire.” Guido slowly nodded, sitting on his own bed. “Then, I want you to go into the smithy. Enquire about their sign.”
The man seemed puzzled but nodded all the same. “You suspect something?”
“I suspect everything, Guido, and know nothing except of the deed done today. I wonder if this has happened before. The innkeeper seemed quite content with what had happened. Silver…” Aware that he was babbling, Almar blew out his candle and lay down to sleep with the rifle tucked under one arm. “Go early.” He said. Guido grunted and in seconds began to snore.
Almar didn’t know when it happened, but sleep also claimed him too, drawing into the mystery that was his thoughts.

Guido came to with his head pounding. His first thought was that he had to find the medicinal cupboard, and he sat up slowly, casting his glance towards the bathroom door. Light flickered underneath. Stealing a peek at Almar’s bed, he saw that the man had already woken and gone, his rifle not visible. At least he was protected. Shrugging, Guido rolled to one side, clutched his head as a sharp pain lanced in his mind, and then stood hastily, almost literally jumping into his boots. A bath would have to wait. But the medicine…? He doubted there was one, but there was no harm in checking. He took a look at Almar’s bed again, seeing the rumpled sheets and smelling the oil from his gun. It was then that he saw the handprint on the headboard. Immediately he waved a hand, an almost careless motion. The candles in the room burst into life.
Tentatively he took one step, then another, his steps sounding overloud in the quiet of grey morning. He came close enough to see the individual swirls of the prints, how one finger seemed slightly crooked. But, he saw, the handprint was silver.
His mind wheeled as he looked about the room again, this time not with his practised investigators eye, but with all the magical skill he had. In the candlelight his indigo eyes burned like augers. With a sudden speed, Guido dashed to his packs, got out a roll of cello tape and took the fingerprint. He looked at it briefly, not wanting to think on the possibilities till he was outside in the fresh air.
Carefully, he laid the roll of tape on his own bed and then covered it loosely with his bed sheets. He looked at the bathroom, and saw that the light had gone out. Frowning, he thought of checking the bathroom, realised that there was no way that something could get through two locked doors. He allowed himself to think on the innkeeper and then shrugged. It was a possibility, it was start. It was only as he waved a hand to turn out all the candles that he saw the door. He had spent all of his time looking everywhere else that he had not thought to look at the door to their room. It was an awesome sight
. Like an intricate drawing, or a painting done with fine strokes, silver lines, gleaming and almost delicate made the image of a hooded person, coming through the door with their hands held like claws before them. Almost as though trying to reach through the door and get them. Now, Guido had never been slow, and his mind quickly saw what had happened and what might have happened. He saw it clearly, and such clarity it was. He could see Almar waking early, taking a bath and then heading out, not wishing to wake him. There may have been a note left behind that had been taken, but he doubted it. He could see the person, this Bane, come through the door like a silver wraith, could see it taking hold of the headboard as it pulled away Almar’s bed covers. And, upon finding the man gone, had fled.
Starting, Guido pointed at the door, and muttered the word for remembrance. He hated to speak magic, but some spells were ancient enough. Then, realising that only moments had passed, he dashed for the door, not caring to be silent now. If it was after Almar, and had come from Calm Spire, then it would find him there and do what it had done to the fair woman, lying shinning in the rain. He put his hand on the handle, pulled his hands away when he found it wet. Looking at his hand, he saw the words: Beware the Silver Bane. They scrawled across his palm suddenly, painfully and then, just as quickly the words vanished. With an angry grunt, Guido pulled open the door cautiously and tiptoed out hurriedly.
It seemed it would be magic against magic. Perhaps it was time to find out how great his magic was.
He made it into the morning unseen, strangely aware that the innkeeper had not been seated in his chair. That was a good thing, either way. The man was a loony.
The grey of early morning stretched across the sky, clouds gathered themselves above Calm Spire, seeming attracted to the tower; the darkest of them making black halos about its tall peak. It was a fearful sight, especially in the morning. At the highest window, a light flickered and was gone. Guido shivered, pulled his cloak about him and looked about the roads. Not a thing moved. Rain slicked almost everything. Puddles sat in hordes between the cracked paving stones. Rooftops dripped steadily, each building in the village seeming to sing in chorus, sing the song of raindrops. To one side a fox trotted by, looked at him briefly, and dashed away, red tongue lolling. Guido doubted that the sun would show its face today.
Involuntarily, he found his eyes drawn back to the tower of Calm Spire. He doubted the sun could show its face. The black clouds roiled darker than any shadows. It was easy to imagine that what happened here now came somehow from that dark spire. But that was the trap. It was too easy to be drawn into this belief. Drawing up his hood, Guido moved into the shadows, using his strange gift, that sensuous ability, to scout about him. It was only as he rounded a corner that he realised that the thing might not have emotions.
It was a distressing thought.
He stopped and looked at the cart, and the rain washed stain of silver on the cobbles. A gust blew fiercely and Guido shielded his eyes from flying dust. As he lowered his hands his eyes caught on the sign that Almar had seen. Nodding to himself, he decided to take a final look at the cart. Hadn’t Gabriella Drake said something about someone looking for something in the cart? What could possibly be hidden inside the cart? It was a ramshackle thing, more of a wheelbarrow than an actual cart. Whatever wheels it had had were now gone though, long rusted and taken for other things. He doubted if the cart even had an owner. Peering into the cart, worried that something from his worst imaginings would take him and make him silver, take him and lead him into doom, Guido gave a surprised laugh.
There was a bag of rotten fruit that pervaded his senses, a broken hoe, a staff and a cloth sack riddled with holes. It was only as he went to turn that he glanced upward, his mind thinking on what could possibly be hidden in the cart.
“You’re up very early indeed, Mr. Head. Not even the birds are up yet.” He saw the flash of gold, and then Gabriella’s head leaned from the window. He wondered if she really was a voyeur. She had certainly been watching,
“Yet you are.” He replied, wanting to get on. There was something amiss. That, plus the image that stained their door… “Call me Guido.” She giggled; a sound that made him suddenly nervous, cold even. “I’m going to the shop.” He shirked, wondering why he had said anything at all. Of a sudden he remembered Almar’s plans. He would follow the woman. Yet here she was, barely clothed. He doubted Almar had followed her there. He seemed a very strange fellow sometimes.
“Guido, are you courting me?” She giggled again. “I jest. Wait there and I’ll be with you in a minute.” Guido saw the head vanish and then looked about him. At the end of the road, before the cobbled failed and the wild began to gather again to the tower, leading its crooked trails, a figure stood. They wore a strange scarf about their head, and it was midnight black. They also wore robes. He had not heard Almar’s description of his first encounter within Calm Spire, but he thought this was the woman who had told him to watch for the Bane. “Is it cold outside?” The sweet voice came from the window. Aware he was shouting Guido called up that the weather was fine. When he looked back down the road, it was empty. Now, before it is too late. A voice hissed inside his mind. It was not his voice he heard, although the voice belonged to a part of him. Look and be sure. It spoke and he knew that the voice was right. It was the voice of his magic, the voice of his greatness, his power. It had never lied.
Swiftly he clicked his fingers, watching as the cloth sacks split open like sheep guts, pouring out rotten fruit from one and… Guido started, and then hurriedly took the brush from the cart, looking upwards to see if he was watched. No. He frowned, wetting dry lips. The cart was directly below Gabriella Drake’s window. Could she have dropped it looking out of the window just now? No… it had been inside the hole riddled sack. And she had had the brush in the night. He was certain. He peered closely at the brush, unsure why. And then he saw. Amongst the golden hairs caught in the teeth of the brush there were silver strands. And yet, he had never seen a silver hair on her, and her had taken care to look closely upon meeting her. He did not like old women masquerading as young women. He had met women with sun kissed tresses that had hid more greys than the Castle of Winor. Yet, Gabriella had no silver hair. Could not it have been stolen? Could not the Silver Bane have taken the brush to set a false trail, and then taken the item that had been here previously? Think Lighthider, think well. The voice hissed so loudly that Guido nearly jumped. His magic had communed with him before but… As power grows in you, so it does in other things. No… they were his own thoughts. Shivering, Guido nodded though. He thought that all he had mused was plausible, yet now wondered if it could be remotely possible that the Silver Bane had an apprentice.
If so, then that person resided in the inn. The image on their door had been both a warning and an attack. Only Almar seemingly posed any threat. That gave him ideas, but he felt he must wait awhile. Wait perhaps too long. Or did he just feel so allured by Miss Drake that he did not wish to implement her in this whole thing. She’s involved, like it or not. Next is to ask about the sign, and then the stories… Guido looked up at the tower and then did jump when he felt someone tap his shoulder. He felt the stirring of delight, and satisfaction. Gabriella. Should he mention the brush? No, he would be subtle.
Turning, forcing a smile to his face, he saw her smile fade upon seeing his eyes, and knew that they must be gleaming brightly, with a strange unnatural light. Feeling something akin to shame, he turned away, and watched from the corner of his eye as she stood beside him, imitating his stance. He wondered why.
“It looks almost like the cover of a book.” She said lowly. He nodded. “Have you ever been there?”
“No, not yet, but I probably will before I leave.” He glance upwards and saw a flock of ravens fly from the direction he knew to be south, towards the ruined city. “Did you sleep?” She shrugged.
“I do not sleep much.” She said sounding scornful. When she spoke again she sounded apologetic. “Did you?”
“I woke up, which means I must’ve been asleep at one point, eh?” He shivered, threw off his hood and faced her. “I’m going to check inside the shop there.” He pointed across the wide road. “I have to get something for my friend.”
“He scares me.” She said, walking by his side. “He has no morals, I think, until he has solved everything. Some secrets are better left hidden, do you not think?”
“I do, Miss…” He saw her frown, and cleared his throat. “I do, Gabriella.” He saw her smile widely, but decided to add: “Just as are murders to be solved.” She said nothing at first, but then pointed to a house with a small patio. “What is…?” He started. There was a child sitting down.
“I wonder if the little boy knows what has been happening here in Calm Spire.”
Guido ran a hand through his hair and then took a deep breath. He noticed that they had both stopped. The child was watching them. “Happening? Its only happened once, and hopefully not again.” She nodded dispassionately and waited for him to lead the way. “How do you know its a boy? It looks like a little girl to me.” She chuckled saying nothing. Sullenly, he stalked across the cobbles, wondering when a cart had actually come along the paving, or even a car. Had Calm Spire even seen a car?
“Guido…” His companion seemed scared. “Something is not right.” They came to the patio and the child motioned them to sit. “Hello…” Gabriella said. The child ignored her, staring at Guido fixedly. Each time we meet a stranger they say the same thing. Say it first and see what happens. They may not repeat what you say. The child went to speak.
“Beware the Silver Bane.” The child nodded.
“I got a silver penny.” The child held up its token with a wide grin. Two teeth were missing. Guido felt that the child was barely eight. He nodded. “Not all things silver are bad; just the Bane.” Gabriella looked hard at Guido, forcing him to lock eyes momentarily. The look asked what she was now mixed up with. The look asked for answers. He had none.
“I know about the Bane… tell me, you’re a girl right?” The child poked out their tongue at him, insulted and shaking their little head. “Right then…” He felt satisfaction coming from the woman, and even the boy, in waves. “What’s your name?”
“I don’t have one.” The boy said with a smirk. It was not the look of a child. “I’m here to tell you what you really want to hear. Well… what you should hear. There is an old woman that lives in the shop you wish to enter. She is asleep right now, but if you give her something then she will tell of a time that none now remember in this part of the world.”
“These are your words, child?” The boy turned, looked at Gabriella and smiled.
“Pretty!”
“Gabriella.” Guido wanted answers, not to see this nameless child wasting time complementing her. He’s saying what you keep thinking, really. She held up a hand in apology. “Boy, is this thing I must give her silver?” He nodded and passed over his coin. “No kid, you keep it.” The boy glared at him, holding out his hand still. Reluctantly, and seeing the chagrin in his companion’s eyes, Guido took the coin and looked at it. Hastily, he stuffed the coin away, drawing a deep breath. He had seen the exact image on the coin. He had seen it on the door of his room, just before the words had scrawled across his hands.
“That is the ghost of Calm Spire, the ghoul of Carmine Trac.” The tower…? Guido pointed to the tower and saw the child nod. Then, the boy spoke again. “Almar Gothurdle put him there.”
For a moment Guido was speechless. The words ran through his head, but even his own thoughts were silent, in shock. The boy looked at his impassively, his mouth quirked into a slightly mocking smirk. Behind him, Gabriella looked at the boy as though she were a demon. Guido wondered why he had not thought of the possibility before. This was not a child. Something was talking through him, like a microphone.
“What did you just say?” He asked incredulously. The child, for all its seeming innocence, turned on Guido a grin of pure malice. Of a sudden he thought he knew exactly who spoke through the child. He decided to change tactics while he had the wiles to do so. “I don’t believe in the ghoul of Carmine Trac.” He said in an offhand way, almost enjoying as the cruel look swept from the boy’s face to be replaced with hurt and anger. “And Almar’s never been to this place. I’m surprised anyone has.”
“That child is not normal!” Gabriella hissed. He nodded and stood, watching to see what response came.
“Then watch and pray.” The child said in a gravely, compelling voice. “And Beware the Silver Bane.” The child picked its nose, its finger disappearing first into his nostril, then his hand. Gabriella retched and turned away. Her eyes were wet. A sudden motion of thrusting his whole arm to his elbow into his nostril was all that heralded the child vanishing. All that remained was a silver stain, a puddle of slime that ran from the patio and underneath with a life of its own. Gabriella latched onto Guido’s arm and he pulled her close, feeling ill himself.
“What the hell just happened?” She said into his shoulder. He didn’t know, but he felt that an answer was needed. “Guido, what are you and your friend into?” He shrugged and saw her pull away, staring at him intently. “You must think me a…” She stood away and looked at the patio. There was no need. There was no trace of silver at all.
“I can’t say…” He looked at the shop Almar had suggested he enquire into. “I’ve forgotten what to get for my friend.” Guido looked down at his companion, noticing she came only just above his neck. He shook his head to rid himself of the image plaguing his mind; the boy picking his nose with his whole arm, nostril supernaturally widening. “I need to go and see Almar. Now… although it might be easier if…”
“You mean safer.” She giggled, though her face still showed the red hue of high emotion. “I’ll go with you. It is safer, and I do not ever think I have dwelled upon the idea of turning into silver.”
“No one turned into silver. They were just killed.” He replied seriously.
“Do not lie to me Guido. Look at what just happened to us. Can you not perceive that some horror has descended on Calm Spire? Some horror that seemingly knows Master Gothurdle…?” Guido shook his head in resignation before inhaling and exhaling deeply. “Your friend spoke to the innkeeper today. I tried to overhear them.” Voyeur… “He went to find the library, but I did not hear where it was. A crypt I thought was said.” Guido nodded, suddenly glad that she had heard what she had; perhaps Almar had found out something else.
“Alright, you can come. But stay close, and try not to…” He paused and gazed into her green eyes. “Where in all Calm Spire would they have a crypt? We need a map.”
“The innkeeper has one. Well, his wife has one anyway. I saw her and that large woman looking at it three days ago.”
“Looking at the map for what?” She shrugged. “Well, we’ll not stand here all day long. Let’s just get that map and make tracks elsewhere.”
“I do not believe I have heard that saying.”
Guido frowned, understanding her statement and berating himself. “It’s a saying from the past. From before the Black came.” He started across the road and heard her hurry to catch up. He wondered if she could have caught up if she had not been wearing jeans. Trivial, but it kept him from dwelling on the multitude of questions running rampant in his head.