Betrayal
Page 43
Xantia smiled and Goth felt joy as Tor closed his eyes to accept death. What they could not know was that he had closed his eyes to focus his powers towards Merkhud to enable them both to lose themselves in the mysterious and most complex of all magic.
Merkhud cast out. Across the extraordinarily powerful link, almost more than he could handle, he yelled Now!
The crowd watched Jod put every ounce of his huge strength into the launch of the stone. It hit Tor’s forehead with such force that his skull split wide open. Blood gushed. Jod followed with two more throws. The first hit expertly at the temple; the second, meant to shock Tor’s heart into stopping, landed true.
The shocked, now silent crowd watched as the light in the bluest of eyes winked out and blood cascaded down the front of Torkyn Gynt’s white shirt.
The falcon, screeching its despair, lifted into the air and beat powerful wings to escape the scene of death.
Somewhere deep in the Heartwood of the Great Forest a silver wolf howled.
Lorys looked at Alyssa. Her small body shivered with fright and her streaming eyes were riveted on the slumped body of her lover, his face hardly recognisable now.
The King’s regret intensified dramatically. Executing Torkyn Gynt was certainly within the framework of the law; it demanded it. But he had the power to deny it. And he could have done so.
If he had wished to.
From that day in the Throne Hall, Lorys had felt uncontrollable jealousy towards the Under Physic. Why should Tor have this woman? Especially as it was not permitted. And with that warped logic, he justified the law and exercised it to the letter.
Now he regretted his decision; his envy, his weakness. He hated himself. Hated his betrayal of Nyria in his thoughts; hated his betrayal of Tor and indeed of this young woman he should have protected, was bound to protect by royal decree.
‘My love,’ Nyria said through her tears but he stopped her for the girl was turning her attention from the corpse on the cross to the betrayer on the balcony.
Loathing was etched onto the proud face which stared at King Lorys. Her hand went to her head and Alyssa brushed back a wisp of golden hair. She looked at the Queen, nodded a courtesy and followed her keepers back into the shadows.
‘She will never forgive me,’ Lorys whispered involuntarily.
‘You need never seek her forgiveness, my lord, if you have committed no sin,’ Nyria said pointedly before turning away from him. She wanted to leave this room, escape to her chambers. However, the nightmare was far from over. She saw Merkhud struggling to stand from where he had sat throughout the execution. He looked disorientated.
She rushed to him, calling to Lorys.
‘Merkhud!’
He leaned against the wall, his legs unsteady and a strange, faraway look in his grey eyes. Lorys grabbed his arm and was looking around to call for help when the old man spoke. ‘No, I’ll be fine. Just give me a moment.’ His voice sounded strange, croaky.
They watched him gulp air until he was able to focus better. The shock of Tor’s death has been too much, Nyria thought. A lopsided smile creased briefly across the physic’s face.
‘I have a job to do,’ Tor wheezed through Merkhud’s mouth.
‘Let me call for some help and we’ll have you taken to your rooms.’
‘No, Lorys!’ The old man was determined. ‘The body. I have made arrangements for it. Please, I must see to it.’
He pushed their arms away.
‘Where are you going?’ Nyria was just as determined.
‘Away, madam,’ Tor said with finality.
Lorys had suspected something like this. ‘You are leaving us, old man?’
‘I cannot stay, Lorys. I do not agree with what you have done today. I promised that boy’s parents I would protect him, nurture him, take care of him.’ The old man sighed deeply. ‘I have failed them and I have failed him.’
Nyria began to weep.
‘So now I must give this boy the burial he deserves.’ Tor stared at the King with Merkhud’s hard eyes.
The King turned his palms upwards; confusion on his face. ‘But Merkhud, we can—’
‘And again I say no, Lorys. I am taking Torkyn Gynt to a special resting place. Forgive me for this hasty departure.’
Nyria hugged him and was surprised to see him stagger again. He seemed so weak.
‘Please, please, Merkhud, let us at least send some of the Guard with you,’ she begged.
‘Thank you, Nyria, but I have made arrangements.’
There was nothing else to say. The stunned royals watched the old man, who had attended Kings and Queens for longer than anyone could remember, weave an unsteady path towards the door and out of their lives.
The sound of the door slamming behind him was like a knife into Nyria’s already weakened heart.
As Tor stumbled down the stairs, trying to control Merkhud’s arms and legs, he spotted Alyssa being escorted back to her room. She was surrounded by King’s Men, including Captain Herek who was speaking quietly to her. Seeing only Merkhud, they permitted him to pass.
Tor stopped in front of Alyssa and stared. He could not drag Merkhud’s eyes away yet he said nothing. The guards flicked confused looks from one to another as they wondered what this silent confrontation was about.
It was Alyssa who spoke first. ‘This is all your fault.’ Her voice was hard and cruel.
Tor’s mind was misting over. He needed all his strength and wits just to keep Merkhud’s body upright and it was hard to stay focused. The old man had warned him not to linger; time was short. He suspected that his words may be slurred but he was determined to say something comforting to her. He just had to be careful not to give too much away. As it was, Herek was eyeing him strangely.
Tor finally spoke in Merkhud’s soft voice. ‘Look out for Sallementro, Alyssa. He is Paladin.’
The guards moved on with Alyssa in tow. She looked back over their burly shoulders and Tor blew her a kiss.
What an odd thing for the old man to do, Herek mused, standing next to the physic. ‘Are you feeling yourself, sir?’ he asked.
A sly smile twitched at the edge of the man’s mouth. ‘No, Herek. I am definitely not feeling myself today. Thank you for your concern, though. Is the cart readied?’
‘It is, Physic Merkhud. All as you instructed.’
‘I am grateful to you. You are a good man, Herek.’
‘There is something I need to tell you, Physic Merkhud. We have withheld it from the King thus far and I am on my way now to give him the bad tidings.’
‘Tell me.’
‘Goth escaped last night. I have men searching. We will find him.’
Tor felt as though this body too had been hit by one of Jod’s stones. Terror for Alyssa struck him. He coughed with frustration and anger, feeling despair course through the old man’s body but knowing it was all his.
‘Does the girl know?’ he asked sharply.
‘Not yet, Physic Merkhud; I must tell the King first. I’m only telling you because I know you are involved and that you are leaving us now.’
Herek watched Merkhud lean against the wall. He felt sure that the old man would not make it back from his journey with Tor’s body.
‘Promise me you will protect her, Herek. And in the meantime, find him!’
Herek nodded. ‘On both counts, sir, you have my word.’
Tor continued his unsteady path until he was outside the Palace. It was a ghostly place at the moment. His former home had come to a standstill for a few hours; there was not even a hint in the air of food being cooked. He was grateful for the quiet at this time.
He spied the cart and its cargo. His own body had been wrapped in muslin but the blood was already soaking through. He looked at it for a few moments; he needed to be sure. With great effort, he heaved himself up into the driver’s seat and took the reins of the horses who had been waiting patiently. He heard a noise and looked up. As he had expected, Cloot flew overhead as his guide.
&n
bsp; Is it you? Cloot asked cautiously.
I am with you, Cloot, Tor answered.
The old man clicked softly to the horses and began the slow journey with Torkyn Gynt’s body to the Great Forest and to Merkhud’s final resting place.
29
The Final Betrayal
The Great Forest had wielded its peculiar magics to bring this precious load to its destination in the Heartwood within hours rather than days.
Arabella the priestess watched as the old man called Merkhud almost fell from the cart in front of her.
‘I am here as instructed,’ Tor croaked in Merkhud’s voice. ‘His…my body is in the cart.’
‘You made very good time.’
‘Time, I was told, is our enemy.’
‘We shall not waste another moment of it,’ Arabella replied. ‘Help me get your body into the clearing.’
‘I fear it will be the last act Merkhud’s body does on this earth,’ Tor said tiredly.
They struggled with Tor’s cooling body and finally laid it out on the forest floor. Together, without speaking, they stripped it of its muslin shroud. Arabella winced at the oozing, gaping head wound which had ended a life. She put her hand on Merkhud’s wrist to calm Tor inside. She couldn’t imagine how grisly this must be for him. He was breathing very hard now.
‘It’s time,’ she said.
‘I know.’ He took her hand and kissed it. ‘Thank you,’ he whispered.
Arabella watched Merkhud struggle to lie down next to the corpse of his apprentice.
‘Farewell,’ was all he said before closing his eyes. As Tor had done earlier that day, he dropped all veils and opened up his considerable powers.
Tiny flames erupted and chimed gently around them, encircling the trio. Darmud Coril was present. The power was daunting.
Arabella was no longer looking at Merkhud. Instead she stared into the bruised and battered face of Tor’s corpse, watching his once-beautiful eyes for the sign. She was patient but nervous. It had been a dangerous plan from the start; fraught with so many problems she dared not think on them. Now was the moment. She pushed her nails hard into the palms of her clenched fists to steady herself and continued to watch the broken face.
She heard a slight noise, like a sigh, next to her. She knew it was Merkhud. The act was done. He had performed the final task required of him by the Host in his quest to secure the Trinity. She glanced towards him and felt a small surge of shock to see only rumpled clothes and a pile of dust where Merkhud’s centuries-old body had been. Its dust was already blowing away in the soft breeze.
The great Merkhud was gone but in truth she knew that he had died many hours earlier, when his spirit had entered Tor’s body to take his punishment. He had breathed his last within a different person.
Arabella looked back to Tor.
A moment or two later she closed her eyes in prayer to the gods and silent elation after witnessing Torkyn Gynt’s beautiful blue eyes flare into life again.
The vines were already snaking their way around Tor, wrapping him gently. The trees bent and their branches lifted the barely alive body into the arms of their god. The Flames of the Firmament burst into glorious rainbow colours.
Cloot, high in the whispering trees, wept. Torkyn Gynt lived and the next part of the journey had begun.
Acknowledgments
My sincere appreciation to family and friends. A few deserve special mention. Thanks to: Pip Klimentou who, fearful that my mornings and nights would blur, has given our house an 0600 wake-up call each day for the past eighteen months. Anne Maddox, my draft reader, whose enthusiasm is so intoxicating I wish I could bottle it! Paul Meehan, my laugh wizard and sounding board for all things magical. My parents, Monnica and Fred Richards, for their endless support. Bryce Courtenay for his advice and encouragement. My editor, Nicola O’Shea, for her help and friendship, and Stephanie Smith for seeing Betrayal’s potential when it was just another nervous manuscript.
And…especially, to Ian.
About the Author
Fiona McIntosh was born and raised in England but spent her early childhood in West Africa. She studied in Brighton before embarking on a career in PR and marketing in London, but following a holiday to Sydney in 1980, she made Australia her home. She and her husband Ian now live in Adelaide with their twin sons where they publish a national magazine for the travel industry.
You can find more information about Fiona on her website: www.fionamcintosh.com Or email her direct: fiona@fionamcintosh.com
For information about Fiona McIntosh and her books, plus all the latest science fiction news visit ‘Voyager Online’: www.voyageronline.com.au—the website for lovers of science fiction and fantasy.
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ALSO BY FIONA McINTOSH
TRINITY
Betrayal
Revenge
Destiny
THE QUICKENING
Myrren’s Gift
Blood and Memory
Bridge of Souls
Copyright
Voyager
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers, Australia
First published in Australia in 2001
This edition published in 2010
by HarperCollinsPublishers Pty Limited
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A member of the HarperCollinsPublishers (Australia) Pty Limited Group
www.harpercollins.com.au
Copyright © Fiona McIntosh 2001
The right of Fiona McIntosh to be identified as the moral rights author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000 (Cth).
This book is copyright. Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of private study, research, criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright Act, no part may be reproduced by any process without written permission. Inquiries should be addressed to the publishers.
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National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication data:
McIntosh, Fiona, 1960- .
Betrayal.
ISBN 0 7322 8279 9.
ISBN: 978 0 7304 4582 1 (epub)
I. Title. (Series : McIntosh, Fiona, 1960- .
Trinity ; bk. 1).
A823.4
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