Eldridge guided Raghnall, this time at a leisurely pace through the steadily darkening corridors until they emerged into a long, thin, passageway.
“Here, Sir. This passage leads directly to the great hall.” He pointed “It is a short walk to Raven’s Rock; however, I am certain you will appreciate the view. I bid you a goodnight.”
“Thank you Eldridge.” with a bow and a smile Eldridge retreated into the growing dark.
The passage shrank into the dim distance, every few steps a pair of windows to each side. The floor here was engraved with flowing waves which caught the light from lanterns hanging from the rafters in the arched ceiling. They beckoned the eye and Raghnall forwards.
Shortly Raghnall looked through a window and saw through the gathering rain that the main body of the castle, the mountain, was now behind him. He could see nothing else in the darkness. Suddenly the sky erupted, revealing in a brilliant white flash of lightning, a narrow river valley below. Strangled by the marsh and battered by the howling wind and rain, it disappeared as quickly as it was revealed. This covered bridge was no doubt to the rear of the castle as it had not been apparent upon his approach, thought Raghnall. Another flash accompanied by the rumble of thunder, ignited the rain tracks upon the windows.. Ahead, a shape was becoming apparent through the rain. Another flash, Raghnall now saw that the passage bore to the right, leading to a lonely spike of black rock. Again, the sky ignited with a roar. More clearly now Raghnall could see that the passage was leading to a lonely spire as it flashed white against the night sky. Through the haze he could just make out windows as silts of red and orange emanating from between massive buttresses.
At the end of the passage, Raghnall came to a set of doors at the base of the tower. Clad in iron, a mural was engraved on their surface. It depicted the pathways of meat, grain and grape from plough to harvest, life, death and ultimately to a banqueting table in the centre. There were no door handles. Raghnall pressed on the door, but it did not yield. He waited for a short time as the storm rumbled outside. Eventually, he knocked. Initially he was out-done by the thunder, however his second attempt was heard and the doors opened from within.
As he crossed the threshold to the great hall, it immediately became apparent to Raghnall that the room in which he had breakfasted this morning was but a minor dining room by comparison. The doors were again closed by silent doormen, dressed in black formal jackets. The room was a massive dome. The floor here was white marble square slabs inlaid in the black bedrock forming a chequerboard with gilded starbursts at the corners of each square. At regular intervals around the hall, thin arched windows occasionally flashed with lightning, the roar of the thunder was gone. Raghnall’s footsteps echoed as he proceeded. Above the windows a gallery ran the circuit of the room. Hanging lazily from the gallery at regular intervals, long, green and gold banners. From the domed ceiling hung a brutally elegant chandelier, five wheels, each progressively smaller than the last. Each crowned by candles anchored in layers of melted wax, bathing the room in warm light.
In the centre of the room Raghnall approached a long dining table where two figures sat, enveloped in the light of the fire beyond. Though dwarfed by its surroundings, it was of substantial size. As he approached, he could see that it was much more orthodox in form than this morning’s breakfast table. It was carved of a glossy dark wood set on scrolling legs at its corners, with high-backed elegant chairs, upholstered in green velvet. As he continued, the firelight shimmered on a gold-leaf pair of ravens chasing in flight around a sun which glowed in the candle-light.
“Please, take a seat” Raghnall could now see that Malaegar was sitting at the head of the table, in front of the fire gesturing to a chair on his right. Raghnall took his place, with the help of a silent servant who stepped out from the shadows. As he sat, he could not help but notice the other figure, sat across from him was a young lady. He was about to introduce himself when he was interrupted. “So…”
“Yes, my Lord?” Malaegar wore a deep red shirt, his sleeves rolled casually to his elbow and collar open. However, the embroidery and lace work betrayed the garment’s finery.
“Seeing as you cannot leave in this foul weather, I have invited you to dine. However, I wonder, have you decided who you are?” he smiled, smoothly brushing some hair behind his ear.
“Oh, yes, my Lord. It is embarrassing but you are right, this morning I was creative with the truth.”
“Please, do tell”. Malaegar smiled. He clicked his fingers in the air and the iron doors re-opened, thunder boomed and white flashes of lightning cast across the floor as a silent human caravan entered. Each person, dressed in simple black clothes, carrying plates and cups and platters laden with food. The young lady carefully placed her napkin upon her lap, Raghnall and Malaegar tucked theirs into their collars. The doors closed once more.
As wine was poured and a first course of fish in a thick spicy sauce was served, Raghnall continued.
“I am indeed a man of Capia and a noble of that court of my Lord.” His voice echoed through the hall. He looked about. Of course it was quiet once more! Raghnall softened his voice accordingly. “However, it is a point of acute embarrassment on my part that I currently travel unaccompanied. As you so astutely noticed my Lord, I indeed did set out upon my mission with a company of servants and a body guard.” Malaegar again smiled, smugly, looking to the woman at his left “However, as we passed through a war-ravaged province, the courage of my men faltered. To my disgrace, I was not able to rally them and I have wandered these past few weeks alone and lost, for they fled with my maps. If I insulted you, I apologize”. Malaegar eyed him for a moment.
“Tis not to your shame, rather to their disgrace” he finally said. “Though there is one aspect which still vexes me. Just what was your errand?” Now prepared, Raghnall answered immediately.
“I am a geographer, sent to survey the surrounding lands for my Lord’s curiosity. Though my equipment was too much of a burden to carry alone.” Malaegar laughed, turning to the lady.
“See, I knew something was amiss” she smiled back with only her mouth, her pale blue eyes did not share in the satisfaction. “How rude of me” he said, turning again to Raghnall. “This beautiful young woman is my… the lady… of” Malaegar stuttered.
“Aaralyn” she interrupted in a soft, clear voice. “My Lord’s sister, by half”. Malaegar’s face initially betrayed annoyance at her interruption, then settled with a thin smile.
Aaralyn’s features were not unlike those of her half brother. Her brown hair, tumbling about her shoulders and down her back was dark though not so dark as her brother’s. Her face was not as sharp as Malaegar’s though her eyes were equally keen. Raghnall noticed that despite her best efforts, they were faintly reddened by crying. About her neck upon a silver chain, a pendant shaped as a green shield, inlaid with a golden raven emblem hummed in the candle light. Her dress was subtle, lacking the embroidery which Malaegar seemed to favour. Her gown was simply cut lilac silk, with sleeves tapered to simple cuffs.
“Of course! Lord Malaegar’s sister. I learned a little about your family today, in the library. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Raghnall placed his cutlery down for a moment and bowed his head formally. Aaralyn smiled.
“You are too kind.” She waved a hand batting away the compliment. “So you have met dear Eldridge?”
“Yes”, replied Raghnall, cutting into his food “he spoke highly of you, though he is a little… eccentric.” The two of them laughed.
“Quite” she replied “Sadly I have neglected him of late. It has been a while since I visited the libraries.”
“Indeed” Malaegar commented, chewing noisily. “Until recently, you were a mouse locked in your chamber.” He turned to Raghnall “Me thinks the mouse was tempted out by the promise of cheese and novel company.” He pointed at Raghanall with his fork, laden with fish, dripping sauce on the tabletop.
“Each of us mourns our father in our own way, dear brother.” Aaralyn replied coolly.
As the second course of roast beef was served, Raghnall wiped his mouth on his napkin.
“May I take this opportunity to express sincere condolences at the death of the honourable father.” Malaegar looked up from his plate.
“I wonder, did the librarian show you anything in the library, or did he merely bend your ear? You may offer your condolence, though it is of little consequence. My father-proper, died long ago. The ceremony next week will be little more than a formality.” Aaralyn frowned at her brother, he deliberately did not look in her direction though sensed her disapproval. “Naturally we miss him greatly though.” he added “After all, he played his part in our victory during the War of the Realms!” The second course went by with little more conversation, despite Raghnall reflecting on the splendour of the great hall and its approach. He scarcely held back a sigh of relief as a troupe of musicians filed along the galleries above, as if deployed to distract the diners from the unaccompanied sounds of cutlery and cups. They began to play. The music floated upon the faint sounds of the storm outside. Raghnall recognised the tune with a smile ‘The Farmer and the Flying Horse!’ his smile faded though as despite the jolly tune, the performance was sombre. Seemingly oblivious to the strangeness of the music, Malaegar tapped his hand upon the table in time to the rhythm as he sipped more wine.
The third and final course was served, their plates were replaced by glass bowls and their glasses refilled. An impressive tiered green jelly was set before them. It caught the candle light and lightning from the distant windows like a sugary prism. Malaegar gave a nod and a servant divided the desert between them.
“In the morning” began Malaegar “I will have fresh clothes sent to your chamber. You must have been in this attire for weeks.” he again pointed at Raghnall, with his spoon.
“Thank you my Lord.” Replied Raghnall as Aaralyn sipped her wine.
“How long do you intend on staying?” She enquired.
“I do not wish to put any more burden upon your hospitality. Therefore, I shall depart on the ‘morrow”. Malaegar raised a hand.
“Oh, no. I insist. You must stay until you are fully recovered from your ordeal of abandonment!” It seemed to Raghnall that this was an offer of obligation. An offer which Malaegar felt he should make as a gracious Lord of Ravensholme, in front of his sister if nothing else.
“It is decided then.” Aaralyn gestured to them both. “Besides, I would be delighted to show our guest the gardens when the weather clears. I assure you there is more to Ravensholme than marsh and stone.” Raghnall chuckled coyly.
“Far be it from me to deny such a generous invitation. Thank you.”
“Very well.” Malaegar clapped. “Since, the Lady feels well enough to entertain, it shall be so!” He nodded and the table was cleared. As the servants filed out through the door, Raghnall noticed the lady housekeeper emerging into the room, waiting to guide him back to his chamber. Raghnall stood, thanked Malaegar again for his hospitality, kissed the hand which Aaralyn offered, and wished his hosts a goodnight.
Leave a Reply