Chapter 16
It was ten in the morning when a lookout spotted the returning ferry. He pulled out a makeshift telescope to get a closer look. He could see three adventurers. The realisation that there were two adventurers missing did not hit immediately. His focus was on something else. He was looking for the child. He focused in on the barbarian who was lying towards the back of the boat. Nestled in his cloak, just in front of him, was the child.
The lookout turned and shouted.
“The adventurers return. They have the child.” Below the watch tower there was a small hut that had the other three lookouts inside plus one scout. They came running outside to see what the commotion was about. One of the other lookouts climbed the tower to confirm his companions delighted yelps. He took the telescope and looked out. It was true. The adventurers had returned and they had the child. He shouted down at the scout.
“Take this message to the King. The adventurers return. They are down two members but they have the child.”
The scout nodded and raced to take one of the horses that were tied to the supports of the hut’s porch. The scout raced off with haste. He arrived at the palace in Thorvale about one and a half hours later. He was granted immediate access to the King.
“My lord,” The scout began, “The adventurers have returned. They are just finishing their ferry crossing. They have managed to rescue the child.”
The King stood up, rising slowly from his throne. The expression on his face was one of shock, worry and delight all rolled into one. He was trembling; unable to comprehend the news.
“They all return?” He asked.
“No, my lord, two are missing.”
The King sat down again. His expression turned to one of deep thought and concern. It was a short while before he spoke again.
“Do you know who is missing?”
“No, My lord.”
“Leave me.” The King commanded. The scout took a bow and departed. Henried sat back down; taking a few moments to contemplate what fate could have befallen the adventurers who had not returned. His thoughts then turned to his son. A few nights earlier, he had awoken in the night, sweating from a nightmare-filled sleep. He had a nagging feeling that something was wrong but he couldn’t pinpoint what. Now he had the feeling that he would not see his son again. A tear ran down his cheek with the thought that the last time he saw his son as he had departed for his adventure, was the last time that he would ever see his son alive. He had a small weep but soon composed himself. It was not fitting for a King to show weakness, especially not in the great hall. He then thought of Paddy. Paddy would want to be the first to know that the adventurers had returned. Henried shot out of his throne and ran to the academy. He burst into the training hall to find it was a hive of activity as usual. Henried looked around; trying to spot Paddy in the crowd. An academy instructor passed by him. As he did, King Henried grabbed him by the arm.
“Where is Paddy Turner?” He shouted. The urgency in his voice made the instructor forget his formalities.
“He is out in the field. I think he is conducting another training battle.”
“Do you know where?” The King asked.
“He should be conducting a battle in the Sacred Hills.”
“That is too far to send a messenger. When is he due back?”
“Tomorrow, I think.”
The King had to accept the fact that Paddy would not be around to see the arrival of his daughter. It would be a nice surprise though. The King wanted to make the return of the adventurers a joyous occasion. He hoped and prayed that his son would return with the party. He returned to the castle to get the preparations underway.
The ferry landed an hour after midday. Conrad was exhausted; Rhyll still asleep. Both were suffering from the effects of the rowing. The journey had taken little over half the time it normally would. John was the only one who was relatively fresh.
“We have made it.” John said letting out a deep sigh. “We managed to infiltrate Cursed Isle, rescue my sister and return. I can’t quite believe it.” There was no joy in his voice. It was more relief and gratitude at the fact that he still had his life. Conrad was trying to wake Rhyll who was still asleep.
“This bloke sleeps like a cow.” He said. “Come on you great oaf, wake up.” Conrad was shaking Rhyll so violently; John thought he may cause injury. Finally, Rhyll woke.
“Have we made it?” Rhyll asked wiping the sleep from his eyes.
“Yes, my friend, we have.” Conrad replied. Rhyll sprang to his feet, rejuvenated by the news.
“What are we waiting for? Let us get back to the palace.” He shouted.
Conrad and John were not so eager.
“I am not looking forward to delivering the bad news to the King.” Conrad said glumly. John said nothing but the expression on his face showed a deep and profound sadness. He still could not help but resent his sister for the pain she had caused.
The adventurers walked slowly across the land. They would not make Thorvale before nightfall. As a result, they decided to make camp overnight. By the warmth of the campfire they had lit, John fell asleep. A strange mist swirled in his mind’s eye. The mist swirled into a vortex. The eye of the vortex began to change. An image formed. At first, it was too far away to see. It was coming closer at a great rate. It jumped out at him, making John jump with fear. It was only a brief flash but John could see the teeth. They were razor sharp and dripping with blood. The lips were cracked and dry. The only other thing he could remember was the cold white light in the eyes of this creature. He was then pulled through the vortex. When the feeling of disorientation left him he looked around. He was standing outside his house in Horton Peak. The wooden house he used to live in was black. It was not painted black but burnt. The wood was charcoal. He reached out to touch one of the supports on the porch. As his hand touched the charred wood, the entire house began to creak. John took a pace back. The house collapsed in on itself. When the dust had settled he saw a strange pile of wood where the centre of the house had been. He walked closer to examine what was supporting the pile of wood from falling onto the floor. As he neared the wood twitched and moved a little. John stopped but then something caught his attention. He could hear something. It took a few moments to realise what the sound was as it was slightly muffled. It was coming from within the pile of wood in front of him. It was the sound of a baby crying.
“Isabelle.” He shouted running towards the pile. John furiously pulled at each plank of wood, sending it flying away from the centre of the room. After removing only a few pieces of charred wood, the cot of the baby could be seen. He pulled the rest of the fallen roof away from the cot and looked down. The cot had been white but no more. The smoke of the fire had turned it a dirty charcoal colour. John looked into the cot. The blankets were totally covering the baby and had obviously protected her. Carefully, he removed the blankets. He lifted the final one to reveal, to his horror, a body that was hideously scalded. The skin had melted and blistered all over. In places it had blackened. Isabelle’s head was covered with a strange bowler hat. John placed both hands on the rim of the hat and lifted it off. The face was that he had seen in the vortex. It was burned, cracked and hideous. The skin was a mixture of blistered white flesh and charred black flesh. The teeth were as he remembered complete with blood dripping from them. Then the hideous apparition in front of him spoke. The voice was deep and gruff but menacingly quiet. It was so quiet, it was nearly inaudible.
“See the future.” It said.
A series of flashes ran through John’s mind. First, he saw the city of Thorvale. The rooftops were on fire. He was standing well outside the city but he could see everything clearly. The palace had collapsed; the streets were full of rubble. A dark thunder cloud loomed overhead. In this cloud, the face of the apparition was smiling its evil, toothy smile. Then the scene changed. He was now overlooking the valley where his father had carried out the practice battle. On one side of the hill were the armies of
the humans. On the other, all the hideous creatures he had seen on Cursed Isle were lining up, ready to slaughter the humans. The numbers were evenly matched but then his vision changed again. He was in the centre of the battle. Bodies were strewn around him. Some were missing limbs, others were decapitated and others had been impaled. All the bodies were human; not even one was a creature of evil. The grass was crimson from the blood of the fallen. He looked down to see that he was standing in a puddle of blood. His vision changed again. A hill of bodies had been created. On top of the hill a creature of unspeakable horror stood. By its side The Watcher stood guard. Surrounding the foot of the hill, the undead creatures were on their knees; bowing down to their master. All the while, the kingdom of Thorntonvale burned to the ground. Then his vision returned to the apparition. It looked John in the eye.
“There is no changing this future. Your sister and I are one.”
The vision blurred and suddenly John awoke. His clothes were soaking. He was sweating profusely. Conrad also awoke; roused by the sense that something was wrong. He looked towards John and instantly he could see the fear on his face.
“What is the matter, John?” Conrad asked. There was no reply. There was not even a reaction to the question. It was as if John had been frozen. Conrad stood up and walked towards John. As he neared, the expression on John’s face changed from one of fear to one of aggression. John sprang to his feet, unsheathed his sword and charged at the child who was sleeping in the giant arms of Rhyll.
“Rhyll.” Conrad screamed at the top of his lungs. This time Rhyll awoke, his instincts sensing the danger. He pulled out a scimitar and parried the incoming blow from John.
“Have you lost your marbles, man?” Rhyll cried out, scrambling to his feet.
John came on again. This time Rhyll evaded the strike easily. With a swift kick of his large boot, he sent the unbalanced John crashing to he ground. Conrad moved in swiftly to disarm him.
“The child is evil.” John cried out with madness in his eyes. “It is evil, it must die.”
Rhyll knelt in front of him and looked John directly in the eye.
“We have not come all this way for you to kill this child; your own flesh and blood.” The last thing John saw was a huge fist closing in on his face.
When he awoke, John found himself bound at the wrists and ankles. He looked around to gather his bearings. As he sat up, he could feel his head pounding. His nose was also blocked, the congealed blood making breathing difficult. The sun filled the sky and the campfire had been extinguished. Conrad was preparing his backpack for the remainder of the journey. John then looked at Rhyll. The barbarian’s back was turned. He was doing something but John could not see what. Then after a few short moments, Rhyll turned. Isabelle was in the arms of the barbarian. The sight of the child sent John back into madness. He scrambled for a weapon but was unable to move.
“Kill the child. Kill it before it kills everyone.” He was screaming.
Conrad and Rhyll looked at each other with concerned yet knowing expressions. Whilst John had been unconscious, they had discussed what they would do if he acted the same in the morning. Rhyll gagged John with an old sock and a piece of rope. He passed Isabelle to Conrad and then lifted John onto his shoulder. John would be carried back home a prisoner. The journey was slow but they made it to the palace gates a couple of hours before sunset. The streets of Thorvale were empty. As they walked down the main road, the town seemed almost eerie. Then a horn bellowed from a rooftop. People burst from their homes chanting and cheering and clapping. They had all been informed about the adventure in the local gazette. To Rhyll and Conrad, the reception made them feel like they had saved the world. As they neared the palace they could see the King and the entire royal court awaiting their arrival. King Henried looked at them closely. He could see that Cohen was not walking down the street. He could not identify the person being carried. He looked up and whispered a quiet prayer. Then the adventurers stopped in front of him.
“My lord” Conrad and Rhyll said bowing down. As Rhyll bowed he dropped John to the floor. The King bent to turn the captive over to get a look at his face. When he saw John a tear ran down his cheek.
“I am thankful for your safe return and relieved to see that you accomplished your mission but I need to ask, where is Cohen?”
Conrad stepped forward a sorrowful expression on his face.
“Our mission was both difficult and perilous. Both Anree and your son fell in battle. However, I hope you take some small comfort in the fact that if it wasn’t for the bravery shown by Prince Cohen, we would not have escaped and our mission would have failed.”
More tears ran down the cheek of the King. The words he heard spoken from Conrad’s mouth filled him with grief and pride.
“What of John, here.” He asked pointing to the figure on the floor. “Why is he bound and gagged.”
“He has gone bloody mad.” Rhyll stated less than diplomatically. “He has been trying to kill his sister.”
“Why would he do this?” The King questioned looking rather perplexed.
“We do not know.” Conrad started. “He blamed the child for the death of your son and Anree. This may be why.”
“He has also been shouting crazy things. He said the child was evil.” Rhyll added.
“You should take no chances, my lord. He should be kept away from the child or locked up.” Conrad said again.
The King started pacing backwards and forwards in front of them. Many thoughts ran through his head. Finally he spoke.
“I feel that it would not be prudent to throw John into the dungeon; especially given what he has been through. I will however, confine him to quarters and place a guard on his door. I will get my doctor to examine him.” The King beckoned some guards to take John away. He then ushered some of his servants to take the child and the baggage from the two weary adventurers.
“You are more than welcome to enjoy the hospitalities of the palace and the city; all free of charge of course.” The King said to them.
“I don’t know about you, Rhyll,” Conrad began, “I could do with a nice bath, a massage and a week in a soft bed.”
Rhyll nodded his approval at such a fine idea. “And plenty of food and drink.” He added.
“It shall be done.” The King replied. “You can stay in the finest suites the palace has to offer, enjoy the royal baths and each and every servant in my house will be at your disposal for as long as you need to recover.” With that they all went into the palace and the crowds in the street dispersed.
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Resurrection (Book 1: The Chronicles of Chaos) Page 18
