Gary Caplan

Advent Of Darkness


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up from the bed. Looking down at himself, he saw that he was naked. Then he spied some clothes draped over the back of a small wooden chair. Wrapping the bed sheet partially around his waist for some warmth, he got up and went to put the clothes on. The shirt was light blue and silky, and it felt cool and soft on his skin; the pants were leather, worked to the texture of doeskin, and they were soft and comfortable; and like the shirt, the pants also fit, which surprised him.

      After he had dressed, he walked over to the far wall and looked out a small window. There was no one outside. He turned his attention inside and continued his orientation of the room. It was simple yet elegant. Plants had been placed decoratively around the room, giving it a warm, homey feeling. He also noticed several small statuettes, carved from jade, set on the vanity table. He had just picked one of them up to inspect it more closely when he heard a noise from behind him.

      Turning around, he saw it was a young woman, perhaps seventeen or eighteen years old, with a tray of food in her hands. She had long black hair that was wrapped into a tight bun on her head. Long eyelashes accented her beautiful emerald-green eyes. The girl seemed somewhat startled to see him up and about, but she quickly subdued her consternation and, with an amiable smile, set the tray on the bed.

      "Thank you," said Gideon, returning the smile. "I'm famished."

      The girl's reply was a light, mischievous giggle and a glance upward at his head. "Are you a nobleman, milord?" she asked innocently.

      "Uh, what do you mean?" asked Gideon. "No, I'm not a nobleman. Why do you say that?"

      "That circlet you wear upon your brow, is it a crown?" clarified the girl.

      "Huh? What circlet?" asked Gideon, becoming even more confused. "What are you talking about?"

      Thinking the girl was playing some kind of practical joke on him, he reached up to his head and felt a small circular ornament indeed surrounding his head. He took it off and looked at it closely. It looked like it was made of white gold, but it seemed much stronger than gold. Symbols or letters that he did not recognize ran along its sides, inside and outside, and as he looked, the circlet seemed to glow with an almost imperceptible light.

      "What's this?" he asked the girl.

      "I know not," she replied shyly as she moved the tray of food to the nearby vanity. "I know only that you were wearing it when you were brought to us a few days past. Tauri Ragan told my parents only that it was not to leave your head, for it was a circlet of great import."

      "A few days?" asked Gideon. "What day is it?"

      "It is the sixteenth day of the month of Mead Moon," said the girl with affirmation, "in the year of the dragon."

      Gideon said nothing. He just gave her a confused, perplexed stare as a reply.

      Now, it was the girl's turn to appear dumbfounded.

      "Do you really not know what month it is? Are you a fool? Are you suffering from brain fever or loss of memory?"

      "No," replied Gideon, who was turning red from embarrassment. "Well, maybe. I don't know." He drifted off into silence.

      "Is there anything I can get for you? You appear ill," said the girl, noting Gideon's look of confusion and embarrassment. Gideon looked around again wondering what had happened to him. He was still a bit groggy and he blinked a few times then he looked back at the girl.

      "Perhaps you should rest some more? I will go and tell Mother that you are awake; she will be glad of the news."

      Turning to leave, she said quietly, in an almost ashamed tone, "I am sorry for calling you a fool. Will you forgive my ignorance? It was not very hospitable of me."

      Gideon let out a halfhearted chuckle. "I wonder if you weren't speaking the truth. Of course, you are forgiven. Don't give it a second thought."

      The young woman nodded in understanding and again turned to leave.

      "Wait!" called Gideon after her. "I don't know your name. What should I call you?"

      "My name is Mara Valora, daughter of Avon and Bessa Valora, the innkeepers," she replied, turning to face him. "It was my mother and I who attended to you whilst you were unconscious."

      Gideon reddened slightly as he remembered his condition when he awoke. Had the girl attended to him, she would have seen everything. She probably had to administer sponge baths and other chores that involved physical contact. Suddenly, he felt naked again. Well, he thought, if she has seen everything, she might as well know my name after such an intimacy.

      "My name is John Gideon."

      "I know" was her hushed reply, and before he could question her further, she was through the door and gone.

      Gideon looked at the food with hungry eyes. There was meat and a bowl of creamed soup with two varieties of vegetables he could not readily identify on the plate beside it. A small loaf of sweet bread lay next to the soup bowl, and there was a flask of red wine to wash it all down with. Finally, there was a dessert consisting of ripe, juicy berries covered with a creamy, sweet sauce.

      "Mmm."

      A moment passed. Then, with his stomach growling, he laid the strange circlet on the bed, stood up, went over to the food, picked up a fork and began to eat heartily.

      My compliments to the cook, he thought after he had finished. Gideon washed his hands in a nearby washing basin and then dried them off with the towel. When he glanced through the side window again, he noticed that he was on the upper level of the building. He soon found the stairwell and climbed down to the lower floor where the public room was.

      Slowly, as he descended, Gideon tried to rationalize what had happened to him since his drive down that country road a few days earlier.

      "I remember the rain…the man in the road…" he said softly to himself. "What else?" He thought for a moment, trying to comb through his memories then said.

      "Oh, yeah, and the super dogs from hell! What did the guy call them? Gor…gorg…" He shivered and whistled in amazement as he recalled the chase and his narrow escape.

      I had broken ribs and a concussion, he thought. Nevertheless, the girl said I have only been here a week? How could I have healed so fast? It's impossible, I know, but it has happened. Where am I? How did I get here?

      All these questions prodded at his mind with a relentless passion as he entered the public room of the inn.

      In fact, his mind was so engrossed in its questions that he nearly bumped into a mature-looking woman as he turned the corner of the stairway. She avoided the collision with a graceful mobility gleaned by years of practice moving through drunken crowds with heavy-laden trays of mugs.

      "Excuse me," he said.

      The woman was obviously Mara's mother, for her daughter resembled her in many ways, especially in the eyes. She had a load of dirty dishes in her arms, which she was apparently taking to the kitchen for washing.

      "No, excuse me, sir" was her reply. "It is good to see you on your feet after so long. How do you feel?"

      He felt good and rested, and he told her so. She smiled at the news and quickly hurried on her way into the kitchen.

      "Good. I'll be right with you, all right?" she called to him from the other room. "I am slightly busy at the moment, for the patrons love my breakfast and can't seem to fill their bellies with enough of it."

      She soon reappeared, arms laden with dishes of every sort.

      "Sometimes," she said, still smiling, "I regret being such a good cook."

      Gideon smiled.

      "Well, Mrs. Valora, my breakfast was also delicious," he said truthfully. "Tell me, what was it? It tasted familiar, but I couldn't quite place all the ingredients."

      "Oh please, call me Bessa. Everyone around here calls me Bessa. Anyway, let me see." She thought for a moment.

      "There was my special sweet bread, elven wine from the Menelorn Forest—we import that special,