The bridge at Sigavid was out, and no one in the little town could explain why. Kay looked over the gorge that the bridge had dominated, up until a week ago. It had risen some sixty feet above the restless, rocky waters of the Wurl. Of the five arches that had supported the ancient structure, only four remained. The center section was gone completely, leaving a gap wider than a horse and carriage in the center. There was something strange about the break. It did not follow the lines of mortar between the pale gray stones, but cut across the stones themselves in a perfectly smooth curve.
The other face, on the east side of the bridge, mirrored it. The exposed surfaces were smooth and shiny, like they had been polished. And the missing section was just that, missing- no sign of it could be seen down in the bottom of the gorge. An odd smell hung in the air, bitter and sulfuric at first, but sweet like wildflowers after in settled down in Kay's nose. Rain was drifting across the little valley in curtains, light and cold.
"And we came out in the morning and found it gone, my lord." Father Colwyn said to Brouduer. He a thickset man, with a cap of tight brown locks and a big flat nose that lent his face an endearing ridiculousness. A copper wheel of Raelle hung about his neck over his roughspun robes. "No sound was heard. No one was stirred from bed. Tom the watchmen heard nothing, though to be fair he was probably asleep as well."
Father Colwyn had greeted the caravan when they came into the town some hours ago, and acted as the more or less official delegate to them since. He was aided in this task, at least nominally, by a scrawny, pimply youth in silks named Ross. The boy was apparently the acting mayor of the town, and just coincidentally, the lord mayor's nephew. The lord himself was in Latimer on some piece of law business. The boy had stood by while Father Colwyn explained the situation, rubbing his collar, looking nervous, and saying little. Broduer had brought Kay and Kurz, his second in command, to come have a look at the bridge while the rest of the caravan set up camp at the edge of town.
"What do you think happened?" Broduer asked, without taking his eyes of the bridge.
"I, sir?" Colwyn said. He looked from side to side conspiratorially and leaned in close to Broduer. "Well my theory is, you see- that something rather odd happened." He said in a stage whisper. Broduers answering smile was thin and flat as a blade.
"What do they think happened?" Kay asked, nodding towards the small knot of stone-faced townsfolk lingering on the steps of the public house.
"They'll barely speak about it." The priest said, shrugging. "They're at as much of a loss as you all."
"That's strange." Brouder said. "I'd think bumpkins like these would be blaming the fae, or goblins, or whatever other odd beasties they believe in around these parts."
"Aye, well, we have our share. But the fae lure away maiden daughters. Goblins steal stockings and soup ladles. Ogres eat your cattle and leave them mutilated in the woods. Even that Valkus of theirs, bad as he is, works by clever words and trickery. None of them are known for eating pieces out of stout stone bridges."
"Them?" Kay said. "Are the townspeople not of the church, father?"
"Alas, sister, there are barely a score of the faithful left here. The rest of the town are all pantheonists, Raelle bless their misguided hearts."
"But- we're still In Dorael, aren't we?" Kay asked.
"You are, technically- right up until you cross the river- " The priests face broke into a wide grin. "Though of course you won't be doing that anytime soon."
YOU ARE READING
Woven Steel
Fantasi"This is your only chance, child." Virtue Folwayn said. "Help the church erase this shame, and in doing so erase your own." A reckoning is coming. As aging knights sit in crumbling halls dreaming of better days, new powers rise bearing terrible new...
