Read Online Ellen Under The Stairs by John Stockmyer - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: John Stockmyer
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whether
John's plan to restore Ellen's health was motivated by altruism or
by the desire to win Ellen's gratitude and affection. A question
John refused even to consider -- much less try to
answer.
* * * * *
Chapter 10
Feeling better that the castle didn't
seem to be under the control of Pfnaravin, it was time to move on.
"Platinia, will you take Ellen to one of the side rooms," -- he
motioned to the corridor -- "and help her into the robe you
brought?"
The girl nodded, John suppressing a
smile about the difficulty he'd had explaining to little Platinia
how to put on his world's clothing.
By this time adjusted to his transfer
through the "static electric tunnel," John turned to Ellen, Ellen
doing better in light gravity but still looking ... feverish ...
her hair damp with sweat. He hadn't known how fast she'd get well
in the magic light of Bandworld, but had hoped to see immediate
improvement.
"How do you feel?"
"In general?"
"No. How's your fever?"
Ellen paused to think. "With all the
other feelings of ... strangeness ... it's hard to sort them out."
Again that introspective look, "A little better, maybe."
"Since people here never get sick, I
have no idea how long it will take to get you well. I do seem to
remember people saying their throat got dry in the night. That they
would cough. But at up-light, these symptoms went away."
"I'm ready for my symptoms to go
away," Ellen said, her smile just ... off.
"First things first. We need to have
you look more like a native. Platinia has brought something for you
to wear. Can you walk?"
A nod.
"Follow Platinia, then. Be careful,
the floor is slippery. It rains here every night. Fog at
down-light, light rain at night, more fog in the early morning.
Night time drizzle comes through the hole in the roof," he pointed,
"making the floor slippery. Promotes the growth of moss and mold.
This room doesn't seem to be in general use, so is never
cleaned."
Another nod, Ellen turning to face
Platinia, Platinia leading Ellen into the mouth of the twisting
corridor, John waiting, Platinia finally back to say they were
ready.
John knowing this part of the castle,
he took the lead, at the first opportunity removing one of the
hall's wide-spaced torches, using that torch to light the women's
way through dark patches, taking them down, and ever down, headed
for the first floor.
Sooner or later, he'd hook up with a
slavey (slaveys "belonging" to the castle) and order up some food.
In spite of that hard to remember rule about "feeding either a
fever or a cold," it had to be a good strategy to keep up your
strength.
Down and twisting down, through
irregular shaped corridors, all stone, most dripping with condensed
moisture.
At last reaching first, crossing one
of the many rooms that John thought of as entrance ways, they were
headed for the banquet area with its board trestle table when John
put up his hand for quiet.
A noise. The sound of several people,
laughter, John unable to get the women behind one of the hanging
tapestries or back of a thick column before soldiers strolled into
the food area, coming to a surprised stop when seeing John's
party.
Stil-de-grain soldiers -- white tunics
with gold piping -- one of them an officer, a gold sash angled
across his torso.
"Who ...?" said the officer, either a
First or a Second, John never able to sort out Stil-de-grain
rank.
Peering through the high-window gloom,
the officer ... grinned. Turned to his men. "It's him. Just like
she predicted!" a cheer going up from the little band, smiles on
their faces, the soldiers approaching to stand at
attention.
"Welcome great Mage," the leader said,
saluting with one arm slanted up across his chest. "We have longed
for your arrival. Have done our best without your leadership, but
now will follow your every command!"
Excellent! Someone who recognized
John, John receiving fawning treatment from anyone realizing he was
a Crystal-Mage. Time to run the bluff.
"And you are?"
"I am Pom,
John's plan to restore Ellen's health was motivated by altruism or
by the desire to win Ellen's gratitude and affection. A question
John refused even to consider -- much less try to
answer.
* * * * *
Chapter 10
Feeling better that the castle didn't
seem to be under the control of Pfnaravin, it was time to move on.
"Platinia, will you take Ellen to one of the side rooms," -- he
motioned to the corridor -- "and help her into the robe you
brought?"
The girl nodded, John suppressing a
smile about the difficulty he'd had explaining to little Platinia
how to put on his world's clothing.
By this time adjusted to his transfer
through the "static electric tunnel," John turned to Ellen, Ellen
doing better in light gravity but still looking ... feverish ...
her hair damp with sweat. He hadn't known how fast she'd get well
in the magic light of Bandworld, but had hoped to see immediate
improvement.
"How do you feel?"
"In general?"
"No. How's your fever?"
Ellen paused to think. "With all the
other feelings of ... strangeness ... it's hard to sort them out."
Again that introspective look, "A little better, maybe."
"Since people here never get sick, I
have no idea how long it will take to get you well. I do seem to
remember people saying their throat got dry in the night. That they
would cough. But at up-light, these symptoms went away."
"I'm ready for my symptoms to go
away," Ellen said, her smile just ... off.
"First things first. We need to have
you look more like a native. Platinia has brought something for you
to wear. Can you walk?"
A nod.
"Follow Platinia, then. Be careful,
the floor is slippery. It rains here every night. Fog at
down-light, light rain at night, more fog in the early morning.
Night time drizzle comes through the hole in the roof," he pointed,
"making the floor slippery. Promotes the growth of moss and mold.
This room doesn't seem to be in general use, so is never
cleaned."
Another nod, Ellen turning to face
Platinia, Platinia leading Ellen into the mouth of the twisting
corridor, John waiting, Platinia finally back to say they were
ready.
John knowing this part of the castle,
he took the lead, at the first opportunity removing one of the
hall's wide-spaced torches, using that torch to light the women's
way through dark patches, taking them down, and ever down, headed
for the first floor.
Sooner or later, he'd hook up with a
slavey (slaveys "belonging" to the castle) and order up some food.
In spite of that hard to remember rule about "feeding either a
fever or a cold," it had to be a good strategy to keep up your
strength.
Down and twisting down, through
irregular shaped corridors, all stone, most dripping with condensed
moisture.
At last reaching first, crossing one
of the many rooms that John thought of as entrance ways, they were
headed for the banquet area with its board trestle table when John
put up his hand for quiet.
A noise. The sound of several people,
laughter, John unable to get the women behind one of the hanging
tapestries or back of a thick column before soldiers strolled into
the food area, coming to a surprised stop when seeing John's
party.
Stil-de-grain soldiers -- white tunics
with gold piping -- one of them an officer, a gold sash angled
across his torso.
"Who ...?" said the officer, either a
First or a Second, John never able to sort out Stil-de-grain
rank.
Peering through the high-window gloom,
the officer ... grinned. Turned to his men. "It's him. Just like
she predicted!" a cheer going up from the little band, smiles on
their faces, the soldiers approaching to stand at
attention.
"Welcome great Mage," the leader said,
saluting with one arm slanted up across his chest. "We have longed
for your arrival. Have done our best without your leadership, but
now will follow your every command!"
Excellent! Someone who recognized
John, John receiving fawning treatment from anyone realizing he was
a Crystal-Mage. Time to run the bluff.
"And you are?"
"I am Pom,
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