Banshee's Curse - The Stranger   Snicker sat at the bar of the Banshee's Wail, a half-empty tankard of ale in front of him. Julius, the barkeep, leant on the bar at the far end, caught up in his own thoughts and troubles. There was no-one else in the tavern, despite the fact that it would be open for several hours before closing. All of the other taverns would be full of patrons, and the atmosphere in them would be merry, and full of good cheer and companionship. But the Wail had not been well patronised for many years, or so Snicker had been told. Superstition was a strong element amongst the people of Leinster, and the Wail had been a scene of superstitious fear in the town, ever since a series of mysterious disappearances began taking place, linked to the tavern. Snicker had stumbled across it a few months back, and despite the gloomy surroundings, had enjoyed the solitude it afforded him. He was able to sit quietly and listen to the silence, and be alone with his thoughts.   Sighing to himself, Snicker idly played with the tankard before him. The ale had gone flat some time ago, and there was little foam left on the surface. He was so caught up in his own thoughts, that when he noticed a third person in the tavern, he straightened up so suddenly that he almost knocked the tankard over. Regaining his composure, he once more hunched over his ale, but stole furtive glances at the person sitting only two stools away from him. The mysterious newcomer was a woman. And she was breathtakingly beautiful. Long strawberry red hair cascaded gently down past her shoulders, framing a face without any flaw that Snicker could find. Her eyes, pale blue and hauntingly clear, seemed to see him, without even turning in his direction. Her mouth, was small and delicate, and a bright shade of red, which stood out in stark relief against her pale white skin. Snicker found himself staring mesmerised at her skin, searching for any mark or blemish, but could find none. So entranced was he, that he didn’t realise he was staring directly at her, until she turned her head slightly, and smiled at him. His face burning, Snicker turned back once more, and downed the remaining ale in one gulp. He waved the empty tankard in the barkeep’s direction, but received no response. It seemed that Julius was also affected by this woman’s sudden appearance. His eyes, normally dull and lifeless, now gleamed with a new emotion, one that Snicker had never seen him show before. It appeared to be fear. Not taking his eyes from the woman in front of him, the barkeep removed a tall glass from behind the bar, and filled it with blood red wine. His hands shook as he placed it in front of her. Reaching into a pocket somewhere in the flowing white dress she wore, she removed a small gold coin. Snicker strained to make out the details stamped on the coin, but all he could tell was that it was unlike any other coin he had ever seen. The barkeep’s reaction to the coin was not one of curiosity. Instead his fear seemed to turn to outright terror as he glanced at it. The woman’s face turned stern for a brief moment, as she stared at the barkeep, but softened once more, when he snatched up the coin with a trembling hand. Once this was done, he whispered something to her, and glanced in Snicker’s direction. He then turned quickly, and nearly fell over in his haste to leave. A few moments later he had disappeared through a door behind the bar, and closed it behind him. Snicker heard a bolt being pushed into place, locking it from the inside. When the barkeep had passed him, he had given Snicker a strange look. Pity seemed to have superseded the fear for just a brief moment. Staring at his empty tankard, Snicker shrugged to himself and climbed over the bar. He refilled his tankard and climbed back over again. It was only when he had settled back onto his stool, that he realised the woman had moved closer and occupied the stool beside him. Feeling intensely uncomfortable, he concentrated on finishing his ale, all the while sensing her eyes upon him. He was so flustered he took too big a mouthful of ale, and began to cough and splutter uncontrollably. He was surprised when he heard the woman laugh. "Perhaps you should drink your ale more sedately, milord." Her voice was soft, but pleasant. She turned slightly to face him, and Snicker found himself turning towards her, almost against his will. "Please accept my most humblest apologies, milady. I am not normally this clumsy." He tried to smile, but the reaction of the barkeep had set him on edge. The look he had given him was unusual to say the least, and his absence from behind the bar even more so. The woman smiled at him. "Does my presence here unsettle you?" Snicker looked away, his face red. "Nay, milady," he said, hoping she wouldn’t detect the lie, "for despite my preference for solitude, your presence here is a welcome distraction. Any man would be honoured by the company of one so lovely." She laughed again, before taking a sip of wine. "It seems perhaps I have distracted you too much. But I thank you for the compliment." There were a few moments of silence, before Snicker felt the courage to speak once more. "If I may ask, milady, why have you come here, when there are other more lively taverns that you could go to? As much as I enjoy your presence here, I fear that I will provide poor company for you if you are planning on remaining." The woman smiled at him. "No. It is you I have come to see, Snicker. This is no chance meeting, but one that was meant to happen. Your company is all that I seek this night." Snicker felt uneasy at the mention of his name. "I fear I am at a disadvantage, milady. You seem to know me, yet I do not know you at all. If we had met in the past, then I would surely remember it. May I ask your name?" She smiled once more, but this time there was something different about the smile. It suggested an eagerness and was almost predatory in nature. "Very well. I will tell you my name. And then you will know me." She turned further around, and they were suddenly face to face. Those strange blue eyes stared straight into his, holding him in place. Snicker felt uncomfortable, as she seemed to look deep within him, reading his innermost thoughts and feelings. He felt bare and defenceless and it frightened him. "My name is..." The woman’s voice dropped to a whisper so that he couldn’t make out what she had said. But he heard it nonetheless, and the effect it had on him was dramatic. His mind, which had been clear and unaffected from the few ales he had consumed, suddenly felt as if it was clouded with dense fog. He shook his head almost violently to clear it, but it only made him dizzy and unbalanced. Desperately he clutched at the bar to steady himself and closed his eyes tightly. When he opened them again, his vision had deteriorated to the point that he was seeing double. The woman was still there, sitting quietly on her stool and smiling at him. The next hour would always be little more than a series of feelings and impressions in Snicker’s memory. There were some details. Such the woman’s hands on his arm, which felt vaguely claw like and dangerous, and not the slim shapely hands he had seen when she had first appeared. And the moon as well, which had appeared in his vision, despite the fact that he had no recollection of leaving the tavern. It was a full moon, but its normal whiteness had been stained a shade of red that he never seen before. Other than that he could remember little. There was a sensation of floating at one point though. Visions of the ground rushing beneath them as they left the town, and then of tree branches brushing past them as they headed for some unknown destination. And finally, there was only blackness, deep and impenetrable. Page 1 of 3 Return to Index Next Page   This page hosted by Get your own Free Home Page