Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #16 July 2015 | Page 54

gesture and then, checking his sword was loose in its
scabbard, limped up the road towards Cahal’s Holding.

I stop and glance over my shoulder, at the castle inexorably drawing closer with every splash of the
Ferryman’s oar.

The Ferryman glanced down and then away
across the lake. “He has seen death.” He responded.

“I did tell the man in red the story of the castle
before we went there. I didn’t know enough as a child
to differentiate between the myths and the truth. Now,
I would that it were all myths.” I pause, turn, and look
the Ferryman in the eye. “I will not beg. I have nothing to offer you but story. Please, row slower. I ask
nothing more than the chance to tell the tale in full.”

“There will be blood.” The man in red told the
boy, who nodded wide-eyed.

The masked face is impassive, but I think the
man or woman below the cloak eases off a little.

***
The man in red opened his eyes, the boy
watched him rapt, and he glanced back up at the Ferryman. “Will the boy balk at blood?” he asked.

***
“I remembered the blood. It was a few years
before I saw it first-hand. Man seeking to spill another’s blood. The metallic stench of it. The splash of its
vivid colour upon the ground. I had already seen the
crows gather though.”

“I didn’t know it, but the story of the Four and
One was going to change my life. Everything I have
done. Everything I have been. Everything I have written,” the Ferryman looks down at me, I know not with
what expression, but then words were my downfall, “It
all stemmed from that story. I appreciate the chance to
tell someone else… ”

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