The Tempting of Thomas Goodman

Wandering at night over the vast wild meadows with only a lantern to light the way was not only unwise, but dangerous, and Thomas knew this better than most. He turned in place to get his bearings, lifting the lantern to search for any known landmark, for anything at all familiar in the immense space of blackness that surrounded him, anything that might tell him where he was. But within the small circle of lantern light, there was nothing at all he recognized.

In all the years he'd wandered these wild hills and meadows, Thomas had never been truly lost. Now he was. Truly and unaccountably lost. And even worse, was the mounting bone-deep knowing that something had purposely led him astray.

* * *

Earlier that autumn afternoon, Thomas’s small village had been in an uproar. Church bells ringing on a weekday usually meant fire and brought everyone at a run or gallop from all the surrounding fields. When he heard the bells ring out, twenty-four-year-old Thomas had just finished shining up his best boots and was laying out the new suit of clothes he would wear to the church ceremony tomorrow. He had paused only a moment to straighten out a last fold in one sleeve, then had bolted out the front door, jumped the hedge that bordered his front garden, and set off at a run for the village.

In the village square, Thomas had joined his neighbors as they all gathered, curious and concerned, to hear what had caused the alarm. After a few moments, the widow Hawkins, tearful and leaning heavily on Friar Joseph’s arm, came out of the church to meet them all. Two days ago, she told them, her only son Jeremy, a proud and headstrong young man of seventeen, had disappeared. He had gone out at dusk after another argument with her over money and had not been seen since. At first she had believed he was being stubborn and had raised no alarm. But after a second night and morning had passed with no sign of him, she had gone to the friar, terribly afraid and distraught.

Lanterns were brought and search parties formed. Thomas, with his shy smile and humble manners, was in particular asked to help and he was more than glad to lend a hand. Thomas, they all said, knew the wild meadowlands better than anyone. It was common knowledge that Thomas spent all his free time wandering over every hill and obscure meadow path in search of the medicinal plants and herbs that he gave away to anyone in need. Thomas would find the lad, they said, if he could be found at all.

* * *

Yet somehow, unaware, Thomas had wandered far from the other searchers and now found himself alone, deep in the wildest part of the meadows with night swiftly overtaking him. He was not afraid of being alone; he had spent many hours wandering alone over the wild hills, but he was badly shaken by this feeling of having been unconsciously and unwillingly led.

Perhaps it was only his sensitivity to the land, the subtle alteration in the bend of the grasses, a certain taste on the air, an instinct or intuition, but Thomas had the distinct feeling that Jeremy had indeed passed this way. Or . . . and this thought shivered up his spine, cold and terrible, like a finger of the dead, that perhaps there was something, that for some unknown and unspeakable purpose, would lead a man astray to this place. That something had already led Jeremy here, and now himself.

There were stories of haunts of course, but Thomas had never believed in them. The true danger lay in the land itself, in the sudden bogs and sinkholes that could swallow a man and leave no trace. No one, not even one who knew the meadows as well as Thomas, would willingly stray alone here after dark. And he had no wish to be lost here tonight, especially not this night.

Raising his lantern higher, desperately searching for anything familiar, he swung the lantern in a wide arc, and firelight streamed like a tail behind it.

* * *

He was sixteen the first time he saw her. A magical sprite of a child she was, just twelve or thirteen years old. Across the fields, she was running home, running like the very wind, and her auburn hair streamed out like comet fire behind her.

* * *

In the widened circle of lantern light, he still saw nothing he knew. He called out, but an unnatural silence was his only answer. No night birds chirped, no crickets or frogs trilled, no wind stirred the tall grass. He took a few steps forward, looking up for the stars that could give him direction, but there were no stars, only an empty blackness overhead, as if suddenly, the stars had all gone out.

Thomas stopped. Even the ground beneath his feet felt wrong. The air was heavy and too still. It began to weigh on him, to press at him so that he had to walk on, unwillingly, haltingly, but unable to turn back. Then without warning, his lantern sputtered and died, and he was swallowed whole by a profound darkness that closed him in on all sides.

He took a couple of faltering steps in the pressing blackness, then froze, alarmed, as an uncanny, unnatural light appeared, glowing up from the depths of a hidden pool of water. That water had nearly claimed him before he'd realized it was before him. He stood trembling, unable to move, knowing that never, in all the times he had crossed these hills and hollows and fields, had he ever seen this pool.

Thomas turned, but behind him was only blackness. Above him was blackness too. The only light at all came up from the water itself. An eerie light it was, that grew as he watched.

Haunt light.

Another chill shivered up his spine. He had most surely been led here, for how else could he come to stand at the brink of a pool he was certain did not exist. He set his lantern down. Little good it did him now. He closed his eyes, the first word of a prayer on his lips. A stirring of the water, the whisper of a ripple and splash stopped him cold, and his eyes flew open to watch with horror as two large black goblins climbed slowly up out of the water, one to his right hand and one to his left.

Bog-goblins. They came up out of the pool, dripping streams of haunt-lit water, and stalked across the bank to squat down on either side of Thomas. Thomas shuddered with revulsion. Their dark gnarled bodies bulged and rippled as they moved, like water contained in a skin. Haunt light caught and reflected from wet matted hair, nails like claws, and rotten teeth. They smelled of stagnant water and decay.

The goblin on Thomas's left leaned close. Eyes that seemed only deep pits of darkness stared at him. Thomas could feel the clammy touch of its breath on his face. "Man..." it said. Its voice was deep, gritty and cold, like the oozing of quicksand. "Man," it said again, "we can make you rich."

"Rich," echoed the goblin on his right. "The treasure of forgotten kingdoms lies in this place."

Thomas looked neither left nor right. He wanted to stand tall and straight and unafraid, but in a moment his knees gave way and he sank to the ground. He sat, his arms wrapped tightly around his legs and tried to stop shaking. "How can that be?" he whispered finally.

"Five hundred years ago," said the voice on his left.

"A magician cursed a princess," continued the voice on his right.

"He imprisoned her."

"With her treasure."

"At the bottom."

"Of this pool."

* * *

It was a few years later, by Colin's Pond, that he first met her. She was skipping from rock to slippery rock at the edge of the deep water. Her bare feet, sure and steady, flashed and met their dark reflections in the silvery water. He stood transfixed in the flickering tree shadows, all sound silenced, all vision but her lost, until a stone turned and she fell, and the water swallowed her up.

* * *

"You can save her."

"Save the princess."

"She will give you all her treasure."

"If you save her from the pool."

* * *

She took the hand he offered her and let him pull her from the water, soaking wet, unharmed and laughing. "I can swim," she said. "Can you?"

"I can," he said. "I love to swim." And his heart was swimming in the memory of her smile as he watched her run home again across the fields.

* * *

"She was a beautiful princess."

"The most beautiful princess that ever lived."

"Her hair was as golden as sunlight."

"Her skin soft as down."

"Her eyes were as green…"

"As the first leaves of spring."

"And when she danced..."

* * *

At the dance last spring she had shone, her red-gold hair bright as a fiery sunset as she spun round and round to the music in a flash of calico skirts and lace-trimmed sleeves, of clapping hands and a sparkle of laughing blue eyes. She was a child no longer. He could not stop watching her.

She danced with the sons of the nearby manor lord, and at last he had wandered away, heart-struck, to stand upon the hill and watch the stars come out in the deep blue sky. A woman like that would never care for him.

* * *

"...and when she danced…"

"She was music."

The two black goblins leaned closer to Thomas. "She's down there, now."

"Down there in the pool."

"Not too far down."

"Not too far for you."

"Waiting with her treasure."

"For you."

"For you."

* * *

No, he thought, as he stood on the hill, listening to the strains of flute and fiddle and drum and laughter that floated up to him, a woman like that would want a rich man's son.

* * *

Thomas's breath came out in a tremor of air against the blackness of the night. "And I could have it all?" he whispered. "All of the treasure? I could be rich?"

The goblins quivered, joyful, hopeful. "Look," they said.

"Look in the water."

"You can see it!"

"The treasure!"

Their voices were eager, hypnotic, urgent. Thomas stood, stepped into water.

"Look there," they said.

"It shines."

"It sparkles."

Water closed around his ankles. Thomas took another step. Before him, in the deepest center of the pool, the water was alive with light. Thomas saw the haunt light turn to jewels before his eyes. Ruby, pearl, gold and diamond. Riches beyond a poor man's dreams. Silver, amethyst and sapphire...

* * *

But soft as a sigh she came to him, as the moon rose silver and pearl above the meadow, she came up the hill and stood by his side. She was alive with heat and light. Thomas felt the fire of her nearness against his skin and he trembled to be so near her. But when she spoke, all of his fear melted away at the gentle tenor of her voice.

"There is a kind of man," she said, as she stood by his side, "who can see the treasure inside a seed, who seeks only the gold of the summer sunlight pouring over the garden and fields, who can look up in awe at the vastness of the heavens and find diamonds in the stars."

Thomas turned and her eyes were sapphire jewels of reflected starlight. "There is a kind of man who will love the land, his wife, and the laughter of his children with all of his heart, and know that in these things alone he is truly rich. This is the kind of man I wish to marry." Her eyes held him and made him feel as still as deep water inside his soul. "Do you know of such a man?" she asked.

And Thomas said simply, "I do."

Her hand sought his and rested there like a small bird come to nest. "I thought you did," she said softly. "I knew."

* * *

Thomas stood now in the cold jewel-lit water up to his knees. Before him was riches beyond imagining. He closed his eyes and slowly turned his back on the treasure. His feet were heavy, held down by the water, each step an effort of muscle and will. But slowly, steadily, he fought for and won the dry land, stepped out of the water's grasp and stood between the goblins.

"I am to be married tomorrow," he said, his voice unsteady but certain. "There is no treasure here that can make me richer than I already am." He picked up his lantern and forced his trembling legs to walk back into the blackness away from the pool.

After ten steps, the stars filled up the sky again, after twenty, his lantern sputtered back to life.

"That you, Thom?" cried a voice from the next hill.

"Yes," answered Thomas, his voice barely over a whisper. He took a deep breath. "Yes!" he called louder. "I'm here!"

A neighboring farmer came running up. "Lord, Thom. We were beginning to think we had lost you too. And on the eve of your wedding and all."

"I'm all right, John, all right now. My lamp went out and I couldn't find my way for a while." He turned and looked behind him. There was no sign of any pool, of anything unusual. "I don't think we'll be finding young Jeremy this night." He paused, the whispers of goblins still echoing in his ears. "Or any other," he added sadly.

"No, I guess he's run off to the city, looking to get rich. He always was a foolish boy, and a hungry one, always wanting more than he had. It's going to be hard on his Ma though."

Thomas turned away from the place where the pool had been and started for home. "I'll make sure she has what she needs," he said.

"Aye," said John. "We all will."

* * *

When the men were gone, the two bog-goblins slipped silently back and sank down into the now dark and hidden pool. They were not too distressed at their failure. The terrible goblin hag, who was squatting amidst her glamour-spelled trinkets in the stinking slime at the bottom of the pool, sharpening her teeth on the finger bone of a man, would not be angry this time. She was not so hungry tonight. After all, she had eaten very well only two nights ago.