Isabella's Heiress

by N. P. Griffiths

  Father Eamon wanted to respond but there was nothing he could say. It pained him beyond words that the people in the realm were suffering because of Emma’s actions but there was nothing he could do about that right now.

  “How does the Council propose to deal with me?”

  “That will depend on the outcome of this trial.” The words were from the woman who had interrupted Gabriel on his previous visit. “You still have friends on the Council, Eamon, but your actions make it harder for them to defend you. You were sent with one mission, to disprove the claims made by the mystics but instead you not only put this woman at risk but you hide from us your true feelings about her potential.”

  “If I hid my feelings from the Council, it was because I was not sure of the veracity of the claims made of her. It was not in any way meant to deceive.”

  “That is as maybe but your actions have caused some to question your judgement.”

  “It is the Councils privilege to remove me from the position of guide should they feel the need.”

  Father Eamon felt the eyes of the Council members bore into him even harder at these words but he was not about to waste time groveling in here when there was so much for him to do outside. It was a calculated risk but he knew that the Council was not about to replace him with somebody else at this stage.

  The woman’s voice came back at him, “Do not think for one minute that has not been discussed but we are too far along with this and you have developed a bond with this girl.

  “The one saving grace on your part is that she got out. If they had captured her, well I do not need to tell you the potential for catastrophe that would have ensued. There is too much at stake here.”

  Father Eamon nodded. “I understand but her future has always been for her to make of as she will. That is the entire reason for the realm. I realise that the council are frustrated at the turn of events but I have to say again that this is what you risk by placing someone in a position such as this. We cannot allow people to decide for themselves only to take that right away from them when the risks of them making a decision that counts against us become too great.”

  “Thank you for the lecture on free will but I think we know what we can and cannot do, the question is what do we do now?”

  Voices started to tumble from the ether.

  “We take the girl out of the realm and in to our protection.”

  “And risk starting a war that we are unprepared for? Out of the question.”

  “This war is coming anyway, better it starts on our terms than theirs.”

  “We will lose if we go to war now and humanity will suffer for it.”

  The voices went to and fro until Father Eamon started to feel dizzy as the air became choked with argument and counter-argument. This was not going to solve the problem of Emma but he knew that his voice would not be enough to stop the argument going on around him. Then, just as he thought that he would collapse from the voices filling his head, one voice cut through all the others. It was the old, wise voice from Eamon’s previous visit.

  “Enough! We will not accomplish anything like this. Father Eamon, you will return to the realm and you will do everything in your power to ensure her safety. Let it be known that we will look kindly on anyone who goes out of their way to protect this girl. Her time is shorter than anybody knows and we must ensure that they do not get to her before her task is complete. I understand that it is now down to whether her sister takes the letter to her father. Is this correct?”

  “Yes it is. She had read it but her mind was too confused for Emma to persuade her to take the letter straight there.”

  “Well you must watch over this girl and ensure that it gets there. If you must, persuade her yourself.”

  “Forgive me but I have to ask…”

  “I know what you are going to ask and yes, it is in direct violation of the treaty but they have violated once too often and on this occasion we cannot allow them to succeed.”

  Father Eamon allowed himself a small smile; finally they were willing to get a little dirty in this matter.

  “Do not feel too smug over this. If she fails her task, there will be questions that will be asked and you will have to provide the answers.”

  The doors opened at the chamber entrance and Father Eamon turned towards them feeling the energy slowly drain from him as he went to leave. These visits were always tiring but this one had nearly finished him. As he approached the threshold, Gabriel’s voice piped up to his left.

  “Father Eamon, what has become of Rodolfo?”

  The air went cold as the question was asked.

  “He has not been seen since he met with Emma. As far as I know, he is still in the realm somewhere, though I know not where.”

  “Hmm… It seems to me more than a little strange that a girl, chosen one or not, can get into the heart of the enemy and escape without the help of someone who knows that place well, would you not agree?”

  “I have no knowledge of Emma receiving any help in this matter.”

  There was a pause before Gabriel answered and Father Eamon could feel his inner thoughts being probed once again.

  “Yes, you are right; you have no knowledge of his hand in this. That will do Father Eamon…for now.”

  As he went to leave there was a commotion and the air drew in tight around him. Something had just happened.

  “Father Eamon, please wait a second.” It was the woman’s voice but this time it was hesitant. “It may be that everything that is currently taking place will be irrelevant soon enough. It would appear that Emma’s father is on his deathbed. He only has a matter of hours before he dies.”

  Father Eamon turned back to the chamber, “How many hours?”

  “That we do not know but he will be dead before dusk, in his world and Emma’s.”

  Father Eamon spun on his heals and rushed out of the chamber looking for Odysseia. Dusk would be in less than three hours. He would have need of another messenger.

  A wind was whipping up the flames into a firestorm as, one after another, building after building caught alight. It pushed the fire along at a rate that meant that if they didn’t hurry, they would never make it back to the sanctuary. People raced by Emma in their own private world, ignoring the woman in their midst that everybody was looking for. They made their way across the street and hurried along to St Dunstan’s Hill; careful not to do anything that may draw attention to them.

  As Emma looked up the hill, she saw the spire of St Dunstan’s in the East silhouetted against the orange sky, its bricks refusing to give way to the fire surrounding it. She half-walked, half-ran towards Tower Street, staying clear of the clusters of people trying vainly to put out the flames or bring down the next buildings in line to go up, all the time with Aithne a little way ahead ensuring the way was clear.

  They were successful and made it to Tower Street where a new sound joined that of the wind and the flames. Buildings were starting to cave in now as the supporting timbers gave way and the splintering of the oak beams was followed by the collapse of the brick walls and shattering of windows.

  They slipped into Mark Lane, where Emma pushed herself against a church wall as Aithne watched the street before they made their final dash for the sanctuary. After a couple of minutes she motioned for them to carry on but as Emma went to start her run she heard the sharp clattering of hooves to her left. She drew back against the wall of the church outbuilding just in time to avoid being spotted by a dark rider as he stopped where she had been standing just seconds earlier. The horse shook its head, railing against its bridle, whilst the rider sat on top of it and silently surveyed the road ahead as his mount snorted and spat. Emma’s pulse quickened. Her back burned from where she was pushing herself further into the wall but she had to endure it unless she wanted to give herself away.

  This was the closest she had been to one of these horsemen and the smell it gave off was that of burning tar. For the first time she noticed that the horse left a sticky dark
residue with every step, which seared into the ground only to disappear. The rider’s boots were less than two feet away and Emma could see the rusting and twisted spurs. Its cloak was torn and exposed a set of chain mail beneath, which looked to be in the same condition as the spurs. The rider’s mace hung loosely from the saddle and Emma had to stifle a groan as she realised that there was hair and flesh embedded in the spikes.

  Just when she thought her lungs would burst. The rider kicked the horse in its haunches and tugged on the reins, forcing it to turn hard right with a whinnying complaint. It headed down Harp Lane and Emma could hear the screams as it drove through the people crammed into the narrow passageway, unable to get out of the way.

  Aithne turned to Emma. “Once we get out into the street, we do not stop until we reach the sanctuary, do you understand me?”

  Emma nodded and followed her out into Tower Street. They ignored the screams and yells and ran towards Seething Lane, the sanctuary was only seconds away. To her left a group of people were attempting to save a hostelry and bakers that were about to fall victim to the floating embers as the wind pushed them along the street.

  “You there, sir. Do not just dally, help us!”

  The words were yelled at Aithne from her right and a sharp tug on her shoulder spun her around.

  “Shit!” Emma realised too late what was happening. They had concentrated so hard on the people on the other side of the street that she hadn’t seen the four men throwing wooden pales of water over the front door of a large pub. Emma froze, unable to think what to do next. All she could do was look at this man as he dragged Aithne by the arm towards the burning building. Had she had time to think, she could have made an excuse about the two of them getting to a family members house and helping there, but the mixture of the heat and wind along with her panic at seeing her guide being dragged away caused her to race up to the man and knock him hard onto the floor. As the man went down, her bonnet fell off and her hair fell to her shoulders. The man stood looking at her in wide-eyed disbelief. For a second he just sat there but then he got back up and started to look up and down the street. Emma knew what he was looking for. He leant forward and grabbed her by the wrist

  “I have her! The one you are looking for, I have her here!”

  Emma struggled as she saw the other men look over at the screaming man. She could see the dawning of recognition in their eyes and knew that they would all want a part of her. This time it was Aithne’s turn to hit the man who went down again, taking the sleeve of Emma’s dress with him and causing her to fall backwards as the man’s grip was released. She picked herself up and they started up the street towards Seething Lane in a blind panic. Behind her, she could hear a growing clamour as more people, attracted by the screaming men, realised who was in their midst. Stumbling forward, Emma lifted up her outer skirt and ran hard, grateful for keeping on her trainers. A glowing ember settled on her exposed arm and Emma yelled in pain as she brushed it off. The crowd behind her was growing in size and had turned into an angry and desperate mob. They were clamouring for her soul and Emma knew that she would be torn apart if she fell into their hands. As she turned into Seething Lane, she tripped on a loose stone. Picking herself up, she risked a quick look over her shoulder and her heart leapt. The horde filled the street behind them and was only a few shop lengths away. She forced herself along the street, her lungs burning from the super heated air she was sucking in. She could see the sanctuary gates in the distance, shimmering in a heat haze and ran with a renewed strength, pushed all the way by Aithne who was now behind her ensuring that no one came close enough to grab her. As she passed the entrance to Hart Street, she was almost knocked sideways as a horse came crashing out into the lane. For a second it towered over her, its eyes glaring down but it to fell victim to the loose stones and rocks under its hooves and it lost its footing before falling sideways, throwing the rider against the wall of a church sitting on the corner of the street.

  Emma’s legs were frozen and it took a monumental effort to get them moving again but by now the crowd and the other horsemen were nearly on them. She could feel the breath of the mob on the back of her neck but she was nearly there. They only just reached the sanctuary gate as the first of them got within touching distance.

  As first Emma then Aithne threw themselves into the sanctuary garden, screams of pain followed her as the arms of those that tried to enter were burnt when they hit the gateway. They pulled back and looked at her with wild, desperate eyes, all of them knowing that their one hope of salvation had just slipped through their fingers.

  Emma breathed hard and, for a second, just sat there looking back but then the crowd started to move as their attention was diverted behind them by people scattering left and right. The two horsemen were forcing their way to the front and they only stopped when they reached the gate. An anguished groan came from one of them and Emma kicked backwards with her feet as she forced herself to get up.

  Her fear of them was only tempered by the fact that she knew they could not come any further. She was safe for now but she knew that it wouldn’t last. Aithne pushed the door of the sanctuary open and they walked in. Emma knew straight away that something wasn’t right. It was only midday; there should have been initiates in the hall, busy with their guides or talking amongst themselves. Instead the only person there was Sister Ignacia and the look on her face did not bode well.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Saturday November 22 1997, 1 am

  It had been fifteen minutes since Emma had pulled away from the club with the only noise being from the occasional sniff coming from the back seat. Emma’s glares in to the rear view mirror were the only communications between her and Lisa. For her part, Taryn was staring intently out of the windscreen. It didn’t matter how many times Lisa tried to get her attention, hoping for some encouragement or at least some sympathy, her eyes were firmly fixed on the road ahead.

  If it had been possible, Lisa would have burrowed into the boot but instead she had to settle for the corner of the car behind the drivers seat, it was the only place that afforded her any shelter from Emma’s accusing eyes.

  It was raining now, perfect thought Lisa, the icing on the cake. Her mind was a kaleidoscope of images, smells and sounds, but none seemed to stay in one place for more than a few seconds before making way for the next. The only thing that seemed to stay was the taste of Jack Daniel’s, which was returning with alarming regularity. And then there was Simon. Simon, Simon, Simon how could she have been so stupid? Her senses had cleared just enough for the first tinges of guilt to start working their way through but they came married to a sudden feeling of nausea which ebbed and flowed depending on the state of the road below them.

  As Lisa suppressed yet another assault from her stomach, she started to feel a low pulsing sensation at the back of her head. In a matter of seconds, it all became too much.

  “I’m going to be sick.”

  “Not in this car you’re not!” The statement was accompanied by a sudden swerve in the car that nearly tipped Lisa over the edge. They came to a screeching halt and Emma flew round to face younger sister. “Get out, there’s bushes over there.”

  “Emma…” Taryn was looking at Lisa uneasily as she opened the door to let her out.

  “Leave her, she’ll be fine, we can see her from here.”

  Taryn pulled the passenger seat forward and made way for Lisa who was moving unsteadily across the back seat, careful to avoid her sister’s gaze. On exiting the car, she grabbed a lungful of fresh air, which, for a second, helped force the nausea back down. She looked ruefully at Taryn, who gave her a weak smile in return, before nodding towards the bushes just across the pavement. The area was coarse heath land and the nearest house was well over a hundred metres away. The rain was coming down harder now and every droplet felt like a shard of ice as it hit Lisa’s cowed figure. Her clothes had become one with her body and she was starting to violently shiver.

  The sudden cold brought clari
ty to the night’s event and Lisa dropped to her knees before throwing up what felt like a litre of Jack Daniel’s and Coke. Along with it came stuff that Lisa couldn’t identify and definitely didn’t look like anything she might have eaten. The initial relief brought on by the sudden purging was short lived as the process was repeated again and again and again, until she fell to one side just as a set of arms stopped her from falling into her own vomit.

  Taryn had walked up behind her as she threw up and now, got her to her feet, “How ya feeling, kiddo?”

  The nausea was gone but had been replaced by a splitting headache and the sting of hot tears as they ran down her cheek, mingling with the rain. Her breath came in sharp gasps as the sobs exploded from her chest “I want to go home!” Every word was a struggle and it seemed that with each one the strength drained further from her body as she was half-walked, half-dragged back to the car, oblivious to her sisters contemptuous looks.

  Emma listened to the retching coming from the direction of her sister. She had to peel her hands off the steering wheel from where she had been gripping it so hard and even now, as she listened to Lisa’s pathetic sobs, the anger refused to give way. Taryn had gone to pick her up from the grass and Emma knew it should have been her but there was no way she wanted to be anywhere near her sister right now and she was seriously considering leaving her there.

  Lisa’s sobs announced their imminent arrival and Emma groaned, much as she wanted to leave her in the rain to think about what she had done, she knew she couldn’t. She turned to see a bedraggled and shivering girl who bore little resemblance to her sister being carried to the car by Taryn, who was herself soaked through by the hard rain. Emma waited for them to get into the car before starting the engine. The rain was pounding the windscreen and the street lamps passed by in prisms of streaked light. The roads were empty apart from the occasional car but Emma was in no hurry to get home. Explaining all of this was not something she was looking forward to, so the longer it took before she had to face that, the happier she was, besides all the time Lisa was shivering in the back the longer she had to think about what she had done.