Herald of the Yellow King - Part 2e: The Village of Dunover
Old Mother Esther continued to putter around the kitchen while she talked, setting a place setting for each of them around the crowded table.
“The bard came a few days ago,” she said. “He was a handsome man, dressed in the colorful cloak and tunic of the bards from back when I was just a little girl. My grandson told me he wanted to tell stories to us.”
“I bet he did,” said Kham.
“Everyone was so thrilled, we gathered together in the big barn, making it up like a theatre. Everyone was there. He told maybe five or six stories, but I couldn’t tell you what they were. My hearing isn’t what it once was.”
“You don’t say,” grumbled Vlad.
“My grandson said he would tell me the stories later, after we got home. But it was wonderful, sitting there, with everyone, watching a real bard working his magic. I hadn’t seen such a thing since I was little, when Cael Greybeard performed at my sister’s wedding.”
“Wait,” said Dril. “I thought the bard who drove everyone mad WAS Cael Greybeard?”
“Eh?” Esther set a plate down in front of Kham, who began slurping it up hungrily with a spoon.
“I said,” Dril took a deep breath, “YOU’RE SURE THE BARD YOU SAW WASN’T CAEL GREYBEARD?”
“Oh no, certainly not,” Esther put a plate before Dril. “This man couldn’t have seen more than twenty winters. Cael Greybeard was an old man when I was a girl. He seemed as skilled as Cael, I’ll give him that. Certainly, he never carried a banner around before.”
“What kind of banner…” asked Ilmarė. When she realized Esther didn’t hear her, she just shook her head. “Never mind.”
Esther smiled at Ilmarė and put a bowl of porridge in front of her. “Aren’t you a beauty?” she said with a gap-toothed smile. “After the bard hung that banner, everything went wrong. There was this rune on it that made people feel funny. Some started to cry; it made me fell dizzy, like when I get up too fast.”
“The Yellow Sign.” Dril ate a spoonful of porridge. It was quite good.
“The bard started telling another story. My grandson told me what it was called before the bard got too far into it.”
“The King in Yellow,” said Vlad and Esther at the same time. Esther didn’t hear him. She plopped a plate down in front of Vlad.
“Everyone was staring at the bard, listening to the story. I wish I knew what it was about, because they hung on every word. When it was over, people started jumping around, stripping off their clothing, and running around like animals!” She shook her head. “Some even started rutting in the dirt, right there in front of everyone!”
“Stupid filthy humans,” said Ilmarė in disgust. She hadn’t touched her porridge.
“We’re not all like that,” said Vlad.
Kham lifted the bowl up to his lips. “Speak for yourself.” He poured the last of the porridge down his throat.
“I started to pull my grandson away,” said Esther, ”but he tried to bite me. He was as mad as the others. I ran home, but not before I saw the bard walking away. I called out to him for help, but he didn’t even turn to look at me. I think he was crying.”
Vlad finished his porridge. “We’ve got to get her back to the castle. She’ll never survive out here by herself.”
There was a mournful wolf howl in the distance.
“Let’s go,” said Dril. “Before a different kind of animal shows up.”