"It must be within the pattern of the glass, orthe facets," he explained.
We sat at a small wooden table in the room that liesbetween our sleeping chambers at the back of the church. It was dark, the onlylight coming from a lamp on the table at the center of our meager feast.
"What must?" I said, my mouth full of bread.
The young acolyte was too agitated to eat.
"As I said, brother," he said, "therewere things that seemed to move in the window as the sun set."
"You mean the light played upon the glass,"I said, swallowing.
"Yes, probably." His eyes lowered.
"What do mean, 'probably?"
"Well, it seemed so real," he replied,looking into my eyes. "They moved."
"What moved?"
"The images in the window. It was as though somethingwas on the other side."
"Perhaps there was something on the other side,Pheslan." I was becoming slightly irritated. "A bird?"
"But I went outside and looked," he said."There was nothing."
I drank the last bit from my cup and stood.
"Then it was indeed the light of the setting sunplaying upon the glass," I concluded. "Enough now, Pheslan. It istime for bed."
With that we retired. Pheslan was nothing if not obedient.It makes me …
Well, let me finish the tale first.
Two more days passed, and Pheslan said nothing moreabout the window. He was quiet, and slow to finish his duties. I knew I neededto talk to him, but I was just too busy. Later, there would be time.
The night of the second day, after retiring, I heard astrange noise. I had been reading in bed as I often did before blowing out mylamp and going to sleep. I heard the noise again. It sounded as if it wascoming from outside the church. Perhaps someone was knocking at the door. Iplaced my marker in the book, threw the blankets back and made my way to thefront of the church in my nightclothes. Thesound came again, it struck me as though something was scratching on theoutside wall of the building.
The stone floor was cold on my bare feet so I hurriedthrough the dark, only my intimate knowledge of the place keeping me frombumping into anything until I entered the sanctuary. There, the light of thefull moon shone through the rose window lighting my way to the narthex and thedoor.
Though there are dangers in the night, even in ourpeaceful valley, I never bolted the door. The church should always be open, Ibelieved, always there to welcome the poor as well as those in need ofknowledge, Oghma's sacred gift. I opened the door and looked out into the darknight. A bitter wind blew dead, brown leaves all around the yard in front ofthe church.
I could see nothing out of the ordinary.
Again, I heard the scraping. Something was outsidescraping against the stone walls of the church. A tree? It had sounded big, soI had thought it best to check. Despite my lack of shoes, a cloak, or a light,I went outside. As I made my circuit of the building I saw nothing. No treegrew so close as to have its branches move against the walls. My eyes spottedno person or animal that could have done it, but my night vision is poor, andit was very dark.
Yet had there not been the light of the full mooncoming through the rose window? I looked up. The clouds were thick. Besides, Iknew very well-now that my wits were about me-that there was no full moon thatnight.
I went back inside. Yes, both the sanctuary and navewere full of cool, blue-tinted light and it shone through the rose window. As Ilooked up at the window, I knew I had to check. So, steeling myself against thecold, I returned to the outside.
No light. I hurried around to the north side of thechurch, the side that held the rose window. No light. I looked up at the windowbut it looked perfectly normal, or at least as far as I could see in the dark.
Again, I returned to the sanctuary. Yes, it was stillfilled with light (was it dimmer now?). I looked up at the window, and down atthe lighted church. As I stood there, between the sets of wooden pews in thenave leading up to the altar, the light cast a shadow from the window allaround me. To my horror, it was not the rose-shaped shadow it should have been,but that of some great inhuman beast! As I looked down at my feet, I saw thatI stood directly in the gaping mouth of the creature's shadow.
I ran. Yelling for Pheslan, I rushed to the back ofthe church. He came out of his room, his eyes filled with alarm and sleep.Without a word, I grabbed from the night stand the blank scroll that served asa symbol of Oghma's might and led him into the nave.
All was dark.
"Get a light," I commanded with a whisper.
"What is it?"
"Get a light!"
He lit one of the many candles surrounding the altarand brought it forward. It occurs to me now that Pheslan knew the church aswell as I did, for he had found the flint in the dark to strike that light. Ah,Pheslan.
In any event, the candle's light illuminated much ofthe room, albeit dimly. I looked around carefully, first at the floor where theshadow had been, then up at the window.
"Please, Brother," Pheslan said, "tellme what it is."
"I thought I saw something," I saidcarefully-still looking around.
He replied without hesitation, "In thewindow?"
"Yes, I suppose. Actually, it was a shadow from alight in the window."
Pheslan looked at me. His eyes were full of questions.I had the same questions.
"I have no idea, my son."
I put my hand on his shoulder and, with one last lookaround, led him back to our chambers.
I took the candle from him.
"Oghma watches over us, Pheslan," I said."Just because we do not understand, we can know that he does, for nosecret is hidden from him. Besides, while the sights of the night are oftenfrightening, the morning light always dispels the fear they bring. Everythingwill be fine. I should know better, at my age, than to be scared ofshadows."
He smiled and nodded.
After the boy went into his room, I paused. Still holdingthe candle I went to the front door and bolted it. I did not stop to look atthe rose window.
The next day, just to be on the safe side, I performedevery blessing and banishment that I've ever been taught, hoping that divinepower might cleanse the rose window and the sanctuary itself. Those protectiverituals and prayers would surely protect us from any evil that might have beenpresent the night before.
The rest of the afternoon I spent caring for MakkisHiddle, who had taken ill a few miles down the road. My position as loremastermade me also the most knowledgeable healer in the tiny community. In anyevent, I did not return until well after dark. Like the previous night, thewind blew from the north and made my trip cold and unpleasant. I unhitched theteam and put them in their stalls in the barn behind the east end of thechurch. They seemed uneasy and stamped and snorted until I calmed them with anapple that I had been saving for myself. As I walked to the front door, Irounded the north side of the building and looked up.
As I watched, a shadow moved across the colored panesof the rose window. It was big-big enough to be a person. My first thought wasof Pheslan. Had he climbed up there somehow? I ran into the sanctuary, but allwas still. I could see nothing unusual at the window.
The room was lit by a lamp on the altar. Pheslan knewthat I would arrive late, and left it for me, as he always did. I knew, too,that I would find some food and wine left waiting for me on the table. I smiledat the thought, and sighed. I was making a fool of myself with all this nonsense.I ate quickly and went to bed.
That night I awoke, startled. The scraping noise wasback. It sounded a little like a dog scratching at the door of his master'shouse, hoping to get in-a big dog. I lit my bedside lamp with a flame from the coalsin the brazier that attempted in vain to keep the chill from my room.When I opened my door, I could see that the door to Pheslan's room was alreadyopen. I looked in to find it empty. The boy had obviously risen-perhapsawakened by the noise as well?