Song of the Gargoyle Read Free

come for a harmless jester, as if he had done murder or committed treachery against his liege lord and country. And then there was the other why that kept returning even more insistently—why had the armed men wanted him, too? Wanted Tymmon, son of Komus, who was certainly blameless and not even grown to full manhood.
    And then back to the scene in the torchlit room and Komus, playing the fool as always, chattering away to the huge armored men as if they had come on a friendly visit. Chattering about how they were making a mistake, which obviously wasn’t true, and how Tymmon had left Austerneve to seek his fortune, which wasn’t true either.
    But then Tymmon suddenly realized that there had been a purpose behind that bit of chatter. Clearly Komus had said what he did in order to make the intruders think it was useless to search further for Tymmon. And then, at last, another bit of meaning behind Komus’s babbling became apparent. The story about how Tymmon had left the castle by the postern gate in the early hours of the morning.
    Remembering how Komus had raised his voice to almost a shout as he spoke those particular words, it suddenly became quite clear. Komus had been speaking to him, giving him advice about what to do, and how and when. Which meant, of course, that he had known about the window ledge and Tymmon’s use of it. And having guessed that he was there, was warning him to leave Austerneve.
    But how could he leave? Where would he go? Although Tymmon had often planned to leave the castle and go forth to seek a new life for himself, he had seen himself going as a strong young man, equipped with horse and armor, and all the other necessities for travel in the great outside world.
    But to go now? Into the forests inhabited by wild animals and bands of cutthroat robbers and other dangers too horrible to name? Tales told by Mistress Mim, his old nurse, raced through his mind. Tales of horrible creatures, hideous demons, small but deadly imps, and great fire-breathing monsters. Things that, beyond the protecting walls of church and castle, forever haunted the dark mysteries of night. Shuddering, he crossed himself several times over, and then shook his head and went on shaking it. No. No, it was impossible for him to go out now into that haunted darkness.
    But to stay? Where could he hide in Austerneve and stay hidden perhaps for many days or weeks? He thought of the hiding places that he and Lonfar had discovered within the castle grounds. Cubbyholes in crooked corners of stables and granaries, nooks and crannies in attics and cellars.
    He could indeed hide in such a place. And at one time he could have counted on Lonfar to help him, bringing him food and warning him of impending danger. But not anymore. He could no longer count on Lonfar for anything, and without a source of food he could not stay hidden for long. And when he came out to seek it he would be caught, and then... What was it Black Helmet had said he would do to Komus if he found that he was lying about Tymmon’s whereabouts? No. He must go. For Komus’s sake, as much as for his own.
    Suddenly, without even arriving at a decision to do so, he found himself sliding over the edge of the window ledge and making his way slowly down to the floor.
    The descent was not easy, complicated by trembling fingers and quivering knees, and once he missed a foothold and almost fell. But at last he reached the floor and groped his way to the hearth, stubbing his toes against overturned chairs and tripping over other fallen and scattered objects. When he reached the fireplace he took a candle from the mantel, held its wick to the embers, and when it finally flamed, turned to see a scene of ruin and destruction.
    In the dim light of the candle the entire room was a confused chaos. Open trunks spilled their contents upon the floor, overturned cupboards lay in the midst of broken crockery and spilled flagons. Even the wine barrel had been upended, so that much of the