Part the first.
The sky was a dim gray-gold, muting the brilliant early harvest hues of the barley fields that stretched out before her. As the wind gusted, Aline pulled her shawl tighter about her shoulders; it was getting colder by the day, despite the second harvest having scarcely finished. Colder, yes, and the rains were more frequent. It was going to be a hard winter.
But then, all the winters had been hard, in the three years since Katherine had gone.
"Be sure to give the horses each an apple when you take them in," she said to Joseph, the oldest of the men working the farm. "And see to it that those boys brush them well. They're the only ones we've got, we must care for them as best we can." Especially since all the animals have been breeding poorly this last sevenyear.
She turned to go back to the manor house, but shouts near the edge of the forest drew her attention. There were men on horseback, and they were clearly agitated; the horses pranced about in the clearing between field and forest, and as Aline watched, the rest of the party emerged from the forest, one of them guiding a strange-looking iron box on a makeshift sled that jerked and swayed as it slid through the mud. Seeing her, one of the men lifted his hand in greeting, and then cantered across the field to her. He reined his horse in sharply when he reached her side, and swung off quickly to salute her. "My lady," he said, panting from exertion and apparently excitement, "My lord says you must go to the house quickly. We've found something, and he says you mustn't wait to see it."
"Is it--has she--" Aline could scarcely breathe. Her chest suddenly hurt, as if someone had poked her directly in the middle of it with a hard, accusing finger.
The knight shook his head, his eyes avoiding hers. "No, my lady," he said, voice low. "Will you accept my horse?"
Aline shook her head sharply. "Ah--yes," she said. "Thank you, sir." She waited for him to bring the horse around and kneel to lift her into the saddle, then she shouted and the horse took off across the fields of barley.
Gillan was waiting in his seldom-used solar chamber when she entered the house. He sat--sprawled rather--in a heavy old wooden chair, facing the metal box, when she hurried in. The tension radiating from his shoulders noted his level of anxiety. He stood when Aline opened the door. "My lady wife," he said, greeting her as he always had in past twenty years of marriage.
"What is it?" she demanded, skipping her own normal response. "What have you brought? What is this?" she gestured at the iron box. It hadn't seemed so large when she'd seen it at the edge of the forest, but here in her house, a big ugly cage with mere slits instead of windows, it was large, hulking, shattering the serenity she'd worked so hard to maintain.
"You know we've been looking for--answers," Gillan said after a moment.
"Yes," Aline said.
"We found something--someone--who might give us what we seek," he said.
Aline stared at her husband, and then at the box. "I'm afraid I don't understand, my lord."
Gillan stood, and crossed the sun-dappled room to stand by the box. It was nearly as tall as he was, and as wide as it was tall. No wonder it had required the makeshift sled to drag it through the thick dark mud, and across the field. There was no sound from within, but as Gillan slowly knelt and began to work at the lock on the door, Aline caught a whiff of something that smelled like...cooked meat. Except sweeter. It was both pleasant and nauseating all at once.
Gillan abruptly said, "See to it that you do not make eye contact, my lady. I do not know what kind it is."
Aline blinked. "I beg your pardon."
Gillan opened the door, and Aline was met with a strong gust of that cooked-meat smell. And as she staggered back from it, she saw what was inside the strange iron cage, and she gasped, her hand covering to fly her mouth as horror and nausea slammed into her like a wave in the sea. "Gillan, what have you done?"
But then, all the winters had been hard, in the three years since Katherine had gone.
"Be sure to give the horses each an apple when you take them in," she said to Joseph, the oldest of the men working the farm. "And see to it that those boys brush them well. They're the only ones we've got, we must care for them as best we can." Especially since all the animals have been breeding poorly this last sevenyear.
She turned to go back to the manor house, but shouts near the edge of the forest drew her attention. There were men on horseback, and they were clearly agitated; the horses pranced about in the clearing between field and forest, and as Aline watched, the rest of the party emerged from the forest, one of them guiding a strange-looking iron box on a makeshift sled that jerked and swayed as it slid through the mud. Seeing her, one of the men lifted his hand in greeting, and then cantered across the field to her. He reined his horse in sharply when he reached her side, and swung off quickly to salute her. "My lady," he said, panting from exertion and apparently excitement, "My lord says you must go to the house quickly. We've found something, and he says you mustn't wait to see it."
"Is it--has she--" Aline could scarcely breathe. Her chest suddenly hurt, as if someone had poked her directly in the middle of it with a hard, accusing finger.
The knight shook his head, his eyes avoiding hers. "No, my lady," he said, voice low. "Will you accept my horse?"
Aline shook her head sharply. "Ah--yes," she said. "Thank you, sir." She waited for him to bring the horse around and kneel to lift her into the saddle, then she shouted and the horse took off across the fields of barley.
Gillan was waiting in his seldom-used solar chamber when she entered the house. He sat--sprawled rather--in a heavy old wooden chair, facing the metal box, when she hurried in. The tension radiating from his shoulders noted his level of anxiety. He stood when Aline opened the door. "My lady wife," he said, greeting her as he always had in past twenty years of marriage.
"What is it?" she demanded, skipping her own normal response. "What have you brought? What is this?" she gestured at the iron box. It hadn't seemed so large when she'd seen it at the edge of the forest, but here in her house, a big ugly cage with mere slits instead of windows, it was large, hulking, shattering the serenity she'd worked so hard to maintain.
"You know we've been looking for--answers," Gillan said after a moment.
"Yes," Aline said.
"We found something--someone--who might give us what we seek," he said.
Aline stared at her husband, and then at the box. "I'm afraid I don't understand, my lord."
Gillan stood, and crossed the sun-dappled room to stand by the box. It was nearly as tall as he was, and as wide as it was tall. No wonder it had required the makeshift sled to drag it through the thick dark mud, and across the field. There was no sound from within, but as Gillan slowly knelt and began to work at the lock on the door, Aline caught a whiff of something that smelled like...cooked meat. Except sweeter. It was both pleasant and nauseating all at once.
Gillan abruptly said, "See to it that you do not make eye contact, my lady. I do not know what kind it is."
Aline blinked. "I beg your pardon."
Gillan opened the door, and Aline was met with a strong gust of that cooked-meat smell. And as she staggered back from it, she saw what was inside the strange iron cage, and she gasped, her hand covering to fly her mouth as horror and nausea slammed into her like a wave in the sea. "Gillan, what have you done?"