“Things are not as they seem, Chief.”
“You should be helping Corran, not passing time idly talking to me. Are you going to help her?” Simon paused and held back his anger, “Please, just help her. If I need to die for this to happen, then just make it so. Quickly…” he whimpered.
“Oi! Simon! I don’t want to have to tell you again. I need you to focus. Corran will be fine!” the Stag shouted.
“Alright, I’m sorry,” Simon replied, wiping the tears from his eyes.
“I think Andrew is a good name for your son.”
“Aye, it is a good name. But I’ll let Corran make the decision.”
“She already has. Andrew it is.”
“If you say so,” Simon said, sarcastically.
“There was a chance he could have been called something else…” the Stag began.
“Oh aye?” Simon lifted his eyebrow inquisitively.
“Brody.” The Stag replied abruptly. A nauseating feeling fell upon Simon.
“Brody? As in, ‘the Dark Circle’, that twisted excuse for a human being, Brody?”
“The very one, yes.” Simon fell silent. “I have something to confess, Simon…” he said. “…In another time, I didn’t save Corran.”
“What do you mean ‘another time’?”
“I mean, the way that things should be. I took the decision not to save your wife. And as a result, she died.” Simon stood up as the voice said this.
“She died? You let her die?” he shouted, with his fists clenched.
“Yes, that I did, Chief. But you can relax. Your Corran is safe.”
“My Corran? There is only my wife. She is one person. How can she be safe if you let her die?” Simon spat.
“Oh, Chief, try to understand what I am telling you. This is a different time, a different reality, if you will. Letting Corran die turned out to be one of the biggest mistakes I ever made. This mistake will result in my death anyway. I might be the one who grants immortality, but I, like everyone, must face my fate at some time.”
“So what did you do?”
“I had to rewrite time. I had to correct my mistake,” the Stag replied.
“And was it Brody, my son, that caused all this?” Simon asked, with tears in his eyes.
“I’m afraid so,” the Stag paused. “He had to be stopped, so I broke the circle of darkness that created him.”
“Why didn’t you just kill him?”
“A bad man feels his death just as deeply as a good man does. Brody is a tortured soul, it’s as much my fault as it is his, and I couldn’t let him die because of my mistake. Besides, he is more powerful than me…”
“So how are you going to stop him?”
“I have thrown him back to 1715. It is now your job to train your son, Andrew, to make sure he doesn’t share Brody’s fate.”
“Train him? How do I do that?”
“Prepare him for the fight that he must face,” the Stag replied.
“A fight with Brody? Listen, I don’t want my son fighting. I’ve lived the life of a soldier. It’s not the life I want for my son!” Simon shouted. “Besides, if you are right, Brody is as much my son as Andrew. How can you expect me to set them against each other?”
“I’m so sorry, Simon. I know this is going to be difficult to hear, almost impossible to understand, but your son will either be the savior or the destructor of time and space itself.”
“If Brody is more powerful than you, what’s stopping him just traveling forward in time and killing us whilst Andrew is a baby?”
“What do you think the Dark Circle is about?”
“To capture Corran and to turn Andrew evil,” Simon replied decisively.
“You’re close, Chief. The Dark Circle is merely a pawn in Brody’s game. He is after Corran, yes, but not for the baby. Remember, he is the baby, the baby is him, they are essentially the same person. He wants to save his mother from the death that I failed to save her from,” the Stag paused. “Brody has already traveled forward in time and he is looking for you all in the 21st century York.” Another pause lingered for a moment. “I warn you, Chief, Brody has the power to locate people, it will not be long before he remembers how to do this with devastating accuracy. He will be unable find you, Andrew or Corran for a while. But when he re-discovers this power… well, let’s just say that Andrew needs to be ready.”
“But I ask you again, when he discovers this power, what’s stopping him travelling back to when Andrew is defenseless?”
“Both Andrew’s and Brody’s powers don’t develop fully until they are in young adulthood. Before this time, they hold uncontrolled and unrestricted power. Andrew will be able to sense the danger that Brody brings. He has been unconsciously protecting you and those you have traveled with since he was born. What none of you realize is that Brody’s power far surpasses the power of the heather and the crystal - as does Andrew’s. Why do you think the crystal and heather failed to protect Eilidh at Scotch Corner services, or Harry and Kate in the tunnel in the York? You have survived your journey because Andrew was with you. Without him, Brody will find and destroy you.”
“If he is protecting us, why do I need to train him?” Simon asked.
“Because there will come a time when this protection will cease. Andrew’s physical senses will begin to take over his powers and his unconscious mind will no longer be able to defend you all. You must train Andrew to be pure of mind and heart so he can channel his powers for the good of the Highlands, the good of our people and the obliteration of Brody.”
“Couldn’t I just try and teach him to control the power to protect us? It seems far easier than preparing him for some kind of foolish battle against his demonic self,” Simon hesitated for a moment. “Better still, can’t we tell Brody that Corran is well and has survived, so that he will stop looking for her?”
“Chief, Brody is hell-bent on two things: saving Corran, and killing me. He will tear the universe apart to do either. If he believes that Corran has indeed survived, he will travel back and keep killing me until we reach the beginning of time. But this is not likely. His version of reality is that his mother died and only saving her with his own hands will assure him that she lives.”
“Well, why didn’t you let him do that?” Simon asked defiantly.
“Because the power he will use to do it will be so unstable and unbalanced that time will rip apart. I’ve played out every possible outcome over and over in my mind, and it all ends up with the same result. The end of the universe.” There was yet another uneasy silence. “You must train Andrew. It is as much your future at stake as it is his. Your son’s power will become so vast that even the smallest darkness in his heart will manifest into disastrous consequences. I do not have long left in this world; it is now up to you, Chief.”
“But…” Simon uttered in protest.
“Good bye, Simon…” the Stag interrupted. “Don’t fail me.”
The link had been broken and his mind released. Simon’s eyes snapped closed on the torturous world he had glimpsed and his lungs inhaled deeply. The crushing pain vanished and consciousness returned. He raised his eyelids to stare with horror at the creature before him. His mouth opened to scream but no sound came from it. Simon fought to deny what he had seen, tried to erase the memory it had burnt on his soul. Darkness had risen and he alone would carry the burden of this knowledge for the rest of his days.
Tiny flickers of light danced through the evening air, seeking Corran’s motionless form, coming to settle on her sunken, lifeless face. The tiny rays of light began to grow and spread across her, moving slowly, like a gentle running stream to blanket her body in a glow that shimmered and danced with brilliant tones of orange and yellow. Bending slowly the Stag lowered its head to nuzzle the tip of its nose against Corran’s face.
Corran heard the murmur of voices somewhere in the distant echo of a dream. She tugged at her mind, desperate to drag herself from sleep. Her arm reached out in the direction of the voice, her
fingers stretching to touch its source. She clawed at a tiny hole of light, desperate to break through the darkness and as she did she saw the great Highland Stag with its silver antlers bending towards her.
It dropped on its front legs and knelt in front of her. She crawled towards it and pulled herself up onto its back and it rose. She clung onto its fur as it flew through the air toward the tiny hole of light. She held out her hand to touch the light and the Stag burst through the darkness and into the shining brightness of life.
She gasped two short quick breaths as her lungs sprang back to life. Her eyelids flickered and she fought to keep them open. Then she was falling through the sky and darkness was once more around her. She tightened her grip on the Stag but they were in an uncontrollable decent. She understood, knew what she had to do, but fear gripped her soul at the thought. A voice echoed loud and clear through the night air as she finally released her grip on the Stag and flung herself from its back.
“Go, Corran, make your life and raise your child, - This is our last chance,” cried the Stag, as Corran opened her eyes and once more burst through the shining light. Her eyes flung widely open to stare up into her husband’s face. She turned her head sharply to the side. An old woman lay beside her, unmoving, her head resting heavily on the crumpled and lifeless body of the great Highland Stag.
“No!” Corran screamed, “No, not Marta, not the Stag. Do something, Simon, please?”
“I can’t, Corran,” he said, desperately trying to avoid Marta’s glassy stare.
Shock and fear gripped Corran and her body started to shake. She tried to sit up but Simon held her back.
“No lass, please. You are not well.”
“Let go of me,” she cried, hysterically.
He released her and immediately she sat bolt upright staring, in dazed confusion at the carnage.
“What’s happened? I want to know what has happened,” she demanded.
Simon raised himself from the ground. Straightening to full height he squared his shoulders, set his jaw and filled his lungs.
“Graham,” he boomed across the night, “Get yourself here and be quick about it, man.”
Then he dropped to his knees beside his wife, his hand brushing gently across her forehead.
“You are alive?”
“Yes, I think so,” Corran stammered, trying to get herself up from the ground.
“No, be still, at least until the doctor arrives. Please, Corran. Just try and calm down.”
“The doctor?”
“Graham, do you remember?” he paused, furrowing his brow in thought, “It doesn’t matter,” he said, eventually wiping his bloodshot eyes.
“God’s teeth, what the hell has happened here?” Graham said, surveying the dead bodies beside his patient.
“She’s alive,” Simon said, choking back a sob.
“But they most certainly aren’t,” Graham replied, searching for a pulse on the old woman’s neck with one hand and taking Corran’s wrist in his other.
“Tell me, Simon, what happened here?” Graham demanded.
“I don’t know, Doctor,” Simon said, trying to still his trembling body.
“Corran, can you tell me what happened?” Graham asked gently.
“I think I died,” she replied slowly.
“But you’re not dead now?”
“No, but the Stag and Marta?”
“I can see them, Corran. They are dead,” Graham said.
“Where is everyone else? My baby, where is he? Duncan, I want to see my son,” Corran shouted, trying to stand.
“Our baby is fine, lass.”
“Stay where you are, Corran,” Graham ordered, resting a firm hand on her shoulder. “It’s too cold out here for you. Will you be OK with her for a few minutes?” he asked, turning to Simon.
“Aye, Doctor, I will be fine with her.”
“I’m going to find her some shelter and a bed.”
“Duncan? Where is Duncan?” Corran cried, frantically searching the darkness for signs of her son.
“He is safe,” Simon replied.
“You are hiding something from me. Tell me, Simon, where is he?”
“He went to find Eilidh,” Simon replied, reluctantly.
“Eilidh? Where is Eilidh?”
“I don’t know Corran. We lost her at Scotch Corner, don’t you remember?”
Corran shook her head slowly, her mind clouded by a heavy fog.
“I don’t remember. Please, Simon, tell me they are safe?”
“They are safe, lass.”
“Do you mean it?”
“Aye, I mean it, Corran.”
“Will Duncan come back when he finds Eilidh?”
“Aye, lass, he will,” Simon said, praying that time would not make a liar of him.
Corran turned slowly to stare at the bodies beside her. A deep sense of loss and confusion tumbled through her mind.
“He gave his life for me,” she whispered, looking wide eyed at the fallen creature.
“I know,” Simon said, cupping his hand at the back of her head and drawing it to rest on his chest. “Don’t look, lass. There is nothing to be done for them now.”
People, some of whom she recognized, some she thought she might, drew closer and as they did the tiny dancing flames of their candles converged to form one giant sea of flickering light.
A confusion of sounds erupted as they drew closer. Corran lifted her hands to ears and buried her face in the safety of her husband’s chest.
“Make it stop, please Simon, make it go away,” she whispered.
“What, lass? What do you want me to stop?”
“The noise, the people. I just want to be alone.”
His hand slid beneath her knees and he rose with her in his arms. She relaxed and put her arms around his neck, still hiding her face against him.
“Find this woman a bed,” Simon’s voice boomed and as it did the noise around them stopped.
“I’ve got one,” Graham panted, coming to a halt beside Simon.
“You don’t do enough exercise, Doctor, or you wouldn’t breathe so hard.”
“Never mind my state of health, Simon, just follow me,” Graham said, turning on his heels and walking back the way he had just come.
“Do you hear that lass?” Simon whispered, “They’ve got a bed for you.”
But she didn’t reply because she had fallen asleep in his arms.
When she awoke it was to her husband’s hand in hers, their child beside her on a bed in a small, roughly plastered cottage. She blinked hard, trying to recall what had brought them to this place.
Simon’s eyes fluttered open and a broad smile crept over his mouth.
“Good morning, lass. Did you sleep well?”
She stared at him, confused, dazed and extremely bewildered.
“Is this our baby?” she asked, nodding at the sleeping child beside her.
“Aye lass, this is Andrew.”
“How did you know I wanted to call him Andrew?” she asked.
“Because you told Grace, when you, when you thought you were, well, when you were in the lorry,” he paused, and looked at her thoughtfully. “Do you remember the lorry?”
She nodded and then slowly shook her head. “Some of it, but not much.”
“Do you remember what happened last night, when we arrived?”
“I had a dream,” she said, staring at the flames as they licked around the logs in the fireplace, “that I was dying and the Stag saved me.”
“It wasn’t a dream, lass.”
“So the Stag is still alive?”
“No. The Stag died, shortly… errm… shortly after saving you.”
“I’m so confused.”
“Don’t trouble your head with the thought of it, Corran.”
“But I want to know what happened.”
“And I will tell you, just not now.”
“Will you tell me where we are?”
“We are safe.”
“In the vi
llage?”
“Aye, Corran, we are in the village.”
“This cottage? It looks familiar,” she said, running her eyes around the room.
“Does it?” Simon said.
“Yes, Simon, it does and I know why,” she said, suddenly remembering where she knew the cottage from. “This is Marta’s home. The one Giorsal brought me to when we were looking for Angus.”
“Does it bother you, lass?”
She stared, for a moment unblinking at the hot coals of the fire in the center of the room, the tidy blue checked curtains that covered the window, and the crude bookcase with its tidy line of spines.
“No, Simon, it doesn’t bother me to be in Marta’s home. In some ways it is a comfort to be here. I will miss her,” she said, sadly.
“I know you will, lass, but she was a very old lady who had lived a long and full life.”
“What do you think killed her?”
“Old age,” he said, simply.
“But why now, just when the Stag died?”
“Because it was the Stag who kept her alive. Without him she would have perished a long time ago. She must have been close to the end of her natural life when you all fled to the mountains after the massacre.”
“Have you any word from Duncan and Eilidh?”
“No, Corran, nothing, but I am sure they are alright,” he said, with a confidence he didn’t feel.
They were distracted by a demanding cry from Andrew as his tiny mouth routed fervently for a feed. Corran pushed herself up, propping the pillows behind her and leaned comfortably back against them before lifting her baby to her breast. Simon rested his eyes on the tiny form of his son, nestled against its mother’s chest.
The room blurred around him, his wife and child’s features fogged before him and his mind drifted into a dream like daze until he was alone, in a dark, dirty, dilapidated building that felt vaguely familiar and heart-wrenchingly painful. He heard a knock at the door and felt the ache in his joints as he moved slowly towards the sound. He squinted his eyes against the dim light of dusk.
“What do you want?” Simon asked, through a wet cough.
“I’m here to see Simon Campbell,” the figure of a man replied with a threatening growl.
Entwined Page 30
