Chapter 14
The Tale of Sir Darren De Silva
Not so long ago in the kingdom of Mercia, there lived a Lady Quenna De Silva and her husband, Lord Sherrard. Their home, Bledgley Manor, was one of the finest in the land and both were known as the kindest and fairest of all the royals.
In their life, they wanted for almost nothing and gave freely of what they had. But there was one thing they both dearly desired which they could not have: a child. After some years Lord Sherrard became depressed by their childless state. He took to his chambers and would see no one. His ill favour played on the mind of Lady Quenna and she began to seek help from the greatest healers of the land. Many came and tried but none could do anything to improve the mood of the man she loved so dearly.
Then one dark and stormy night there came a knocking on the door of their Manor House. The Lady made her way downstairs and when she opened the door, was surprised to find a wizened old man. Seeing him so wet and cold the lady immediately invited him in and sat him by the fire. “What is your name?” she asked after calling a servant to bring him some hot beer and a chunk of bread.
“My name is Sorrow,” he replied. “And you have invited me into your home.”
“Oh, Old Man Sorrow,” the Lady Quenna cried. “I believe you reside here already. My husband, Lord Sherrard is but a shadow of his former self. He will see no one. Will talk to no one. Can you help us?”
Old Man Sorrow finished his beer and chewed thoughtfully on the last of his bread. Finally, he spoke. “I will restore your husband and give you what you most desire.”
At this the Lady Quenna’s heart leapt with joy. “You will do this for us?”
“I will,” replied the old man. “But Sorrow cannot just be shrugged away, like a wet cape by the warm fire. It must be paid for.”
“I can give you as much gold as you desire.”
“It is not money that I want.”
“Then what?”
“In nine months, I will return to this house, and you will invite me in once more. Then, and only then will you hear my reckoning. Do you agree?”
So desperate was the Lady, and so delighted that all her wishes would be fulfilled, she immediately answered, “I do.”
The old man rose from his chair, bade her farewell, and disappeared into the dark and stormy night.
The next day Lord Sherrard emerged from his chambers, a radiant smile on his face. He touched a hand to the Lady Quenna’s cheek and told her he loved her. As the months passed and her belly grew both Lord and Lady were happier than they had ever been. Their crops flourished, their standing in the kingdom rose and their subjects found them more magnificent than ever.
The Lady Quenna had not mentioned the strange old man to her husband and as time went by she tried to forget that Sorrow had ever come to her house.
Autumn became winter became spring and in the summer of 621AD a baby boy was born to the De Silva household.
They called him Darren.
On the third night after his birth a storm blew in: lightning raged, and rain lashed down. In the midst of this came a loud knocking at the door of Bledgley Manor. The Lady Quenna opened the door and there before her stood a wizened old man.
“Do you remember me?” he asked.
“I do not,” she lied, the twist of unease in her stomach. “But please, come in. You should not stay out in such weather.”
“Thank you,” said the old man, stepping through the doorway. “You have invited me into your house for the second time. Do you not remember Sorrow?”
The Lady gasped. “You have come for your payment. Of course! I cannot thank you enough for your kindnesses. You will have gold and jewels beyond your imaginings.”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
But the old man shook his head. “Material wealth has no effect on me. I come to rich and poor alike.”
With sinking heart the lady said, “Then name your price.”
“At the age of eleven your son will lose any chance of happiness.”
Lady Quenna held a hand to her chest. “Why? Why at eleven?”
“You must know happiness first to taste the true depth of Sorrow.”
“But is there no hope for him?”
The old man grinned evilly. “Only when he has died once will he find the two that will save him.”
“Who are these two that will save him?” the lady asked, her voice wavering.
Sorrow’s grin widened. “The boy from the family of Adam and the girl who sleeps inside of stars.”
The Lady Quenna wrinkled her brow. “The boy from the family of Adam could be any male child! And no one sleeps inside the stars! You talk in riddles old man. Speak plain.”
Old Man Sorrowed bowed low. “I speak only the truth.”
“Be gone from my house,” the lady cried.
And the old man, still grinning from ear to ear, clicked his fingers and vanished.
Over time Darren De Silva grew to be a strong, adventurous boy. The apple of his parent’s eye he excelled with both sword and bow, was courteous and kind, could do no wrong. As time went by his mother almost believed that Sorrow would never visit him again. To her mother’s heart it seemed impossible that a boy so radiant would have any Sorrow in his life at all.
And yet, on the morning of his eleventh birthday he emerged from his room, a change upon him. A change so sudden that his parents knew not what to do. Gone was the smile that would light up a room, gone the spring in his step, the glint in his eye.
Often, they found him sitting by the pond near the edge of the woods, staring into the trees. When asked what he looked for he could not tell them, but just sighed a heavy sigh and said, “For something other than what I have.”
###
Digby sits back, his hands resting lightly in his lap.
I stare into the fire. As the flames shift and flicker, my insides roll with them. I thought my life filled with happiness until we moved house. But my new life isn’t full of sorrow – it’s me who’s coloured it that way. I’ve been just like young De Silva, staring into the woods of my past, wishing something would change, but doing nothing to change it.
“Is that story real?” I ask. “It sounds like a fairytale.”
Digby stares at me. “There is much truth in such tales.”
I nod to myself. Let it all sink in.
Alice leans forward. “Old Man Sorrow said Sir De Silva would die before he found the two that would save him.”
“Do you not know?” Digby says solemnly.
I look over at Alice. She shakes her head slightly and shrugs.
Digby sighs. “Clearly you do not.” He clasps his hands tightly together, the knuckles white. “Darren De Silva is already dead.”
His words sting like the smack of a football on a cold morning. “What!” Ice seeps through me from head to toe, freezing my brain. And then it slowly dawns on me. “Alice…the tomb.”
She straightens in her seat. “OMG, Brad. The gravestone really is his.” Her eyes widen. “Our fencing teacher’s a ghost!”
I rub at my forehead. “But how…I mean, if he died…”
“He is cursed,” Digby says heavily. “Brought back to life by the Fae, Haldjas Palgamor and tasked to find the missing eyes of The Fae Queen. Another chance at salvation. And one it seems he has squandered.”
Silence fills the room, split only by the soft crackle of the fire.
I won’t squander my chance. “We have to help him.”
Alice nods. “We must.”
I can almost feel the cogs turning in my mind, making sense of all the stories we’ve heard, fitting them together like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. “So, he’s found one eye, but not the other.”
Digby nods. “And as The Shadow Time looms again, the term of his curse comes to a close. He has failed and the two from the prophecy have not yet come to save him.” He pauses, the firelight reflected in his eyes. “Or perhaps they have…”
Alice looks pointedly at me. “We can do this Sir Atkins.”
Digby raises a hand to his mouth. “Is Atkins your family name?”
My stomach bubbles. “Yeah.”
“By the gods! Do you know what it means?”
I shake my head.
“Atkins literally means from the family of Adam!”
“Holy Macaroni, Brad,” Alice whispers, her eyes wide. “It could be you.”
An image jumps into my head. I’m stood on my drive in Bledgley looking up at Alice’s bedroom. And it’s full of stars. My heart seems to pause in my chest before thumping even harder. “Your nightlight…”
Alice’s eyes widen even further. They seem to glow. “O.M.G.”
“What’s this?” Digby asks.
Alice takes a deep breath before the words spill from her. “I’ve got a nightlight in my bedroom. It projects stars onto my walls and ceiling. I sleep inside of stars every night!”
My mind whirls. Could it be that I was meant to come to Bledgley, meant to meet Alice and together save De Silva from his curse? It seems a little loco. But it seems right too. Like I’ve found where I’m meant to be.
Digby stands. “I need to tell Garvey!”
“Tell me what?” Garvey stands in the doorway, arms folded.
Digby gestures towards us. “These two might just be the ones from the prophecy.”
Garvey snorts. “A prophecy never saved no one.”
Digby makes an exasperated noise, then grins. “If it never saved no one, that means it must’ve saved someone.”
Garvey looks confused. “Eh?”
“Double negative, love.”
Garvey’s eyes twinkle in the firelight. “Very clever.” He turns to us. “I hope you can save him. But don’t rely on prophecy, rely on each other. Come. I have something for you.” He turns and disappears through the archway.
“Go on,” Digby says. “We all have our paths to walk and the wise take help from all the friends they find along the way.”
“Thank you,” I say to Digby. “We’ll bring him back. I promise.”
He smiles. “I have no doubt. Now go. The workshop is at the end. Good luck.”