Circle Series 4-in-1

by Ted Dekker

  She hesitated only a single beat. “I will.” She wept over his shoulder. “I will marry you.”

  The door crashed open and slammed behind Thomas. Boots pounded over the floor. A fist grabbed his hair and yanked him back with such force that he thought his neck might have been broken.

  He fell back and Chelise came with him.

  Woref snatched a handful of her hair and jerked her off of him. Chelise screamed.

  “Leave her!” Thomas tried to rise. “Leave her—” Woref ’s boot connected with his temple and he fell flat.

  He had to get up. He had to stall Woref. He had to kill the man. They were both dead anyway. Thomas pushed himself up. The room was spinning. He blinked and gathered himself. It occurred to him that no one else had come into the room. Whatever Woref planned, he would blame Thomas.

  “Qurong . . .” Thomas gasped. “Qurong won’t let you . . .”

  Woref shoved Chelise against the wall and held her by her neck, hand drawn to hit her. “Now I will kill you,” he said. His voice rose. “Do you hear me, you filthy whore? I will pound you until you die,” he screamed in rage. “No one defies me! Not the daughter of Qurong, not Qurong himself!”

  He swung his hand.

  “Stop!”

  The door flew inward.

  Woref was committed—his open hand slapped Chelise’s cheek with the sound of a cracking whip. Her head snapped sideways. But Woref had pulled back his full strength at the last moment. She stared at the doorway with wide eyes.

  Thomas followed her stare. There stood Qurong. And Ciphus. And behind them, Mikil, hands bound.

  The supreme leader stood with both hands clenched, head bared. The vein at his temple bulged beneath his long, thick dreadlocks.

  “Release her.”

  Woref withdrew his hand from her neck. He swept back a rope of hair that had fallen over his face. “This woman has committed treason by loving an albino,” he said. “For that she must die.”

  Qurong stepped into the room. Thomas stood and looked at Mikil, who was staring at him.

  “What is she doing here?” Qurong demanded.

  “I brought her to save her life,” Woref said. “Ciphus knows.”

  “I only know that you ordered her here,” the chief priest said. “I know nothing else.”

  “You lie!”

  “I’ll decide who’s lying,” Qurong said. He stared at his daughter, lips drawn in a thin line. “How could bringing her here save her life? She was never condemned!”

  “She condemned herself by loving the albino.” Woref spit on the floor. “I knew and I demanded that the albino retract his love so that she would come to her senses. It was the least I could do for you.”

  “Then you’re a fool,” Qurong said bitterly. “You see things that don’t exist. Who are you to judge the love of my daughter? My wife is right; you have a death wish for her.”

  “I can assure you—”

  “Silence!” The supreme leader paced in rage. “I don’t care what you say, your word is no longer trustworthy.”

  “Perhaps your daughter should speak for herself,” Ciphus said.

  They all looked at Chelise. Her eyes glanced around. Stared at Thomas. Then settled on her father.

  “Then speak,” Qurong said. “But I warn you, we have a law that binds us.”

  Thomas felt his heart sink. She had to deny her love! If she only denied it, Qurong would give her the benefit of any doubt and let her live. Woref’s plot was exposed; she would be safe.

  Chelise stared at her father for a long time. She looked at Thomas, and he shook his head barely, so that no one but her would see. Please, my love. I know the truth. Save yourself.

  She locked onto his eyes and stepped away from the wall. “You want to know the truth, Father? You want to know why this beast you’ve put in charge of your armies is so outraged?”

  She walked toward Thomas and stopped in front of him. “You want to know why this albino bound me and stole me from the castle? Why he would cross the desert for me on foot if he had to? Why he would give his life to save mine?” She paused. “It is because he loves me more than he loves his own breath.”

  Thomas felt his brows wrinkle in fear for her.

  Chelise took his arm, stepped by his side, and faced her father. “And I love him the same.”

  They were six frozen statues.

  “I’m sorry, Father. I can’t lie about this.”

  Thomas saw the same fear he felt for her life pass through Qurong’s eyes. “You’re being forced . . .”

  “I’m not,” she said.

  “You can’t possibly say this! Do you know what this means?”

  “It simply means that I love him. And for that love I will pay any price.”

  The supreme leader’s face flushed with fury. He glared at Ciphus.

  The priest bowed his head. “Then her fate is sealed, my lord.”

  Slowly, like the fading sun, Qurong’s face changed. The resolve that had served him so well in a hundred battles settled over him. He glanced at Chelise once, then looked at Thomas.

  “Forgive me,” Thomas said. “I would do anything—”

  “Shut up! Against the wall! Both of you.”

  Thomas and Chelise stepped over to the wall and pressed their backs to the bookcase.

  “Release him,” he snapped at Chelise. “Move away.”

  She obeyed.

  “So then. The price for the head of my greatest enemy is the death of my own daughter. So be it.”

  He turned his back on them and stared at the back wall.

  “Woref, please join them.”

  The general seemed not to have heard. “I’m sorry, my lord, what—”

  “Join them on the wall.”

  “I don’t see—”

  “Now!”

  Woref stepped next to Thomas.

  “Ciphus.”

  Ciphus walked over and pulled Woref ’s sword free before the man could make sense of what was happening.

  Qurong faced him. “I sentence you to death for treason against the royal family. You will die with them.”

  Woref stood aghast. “I don’t think you understand, my lord. I’ve committed no act of treason!”

  “You denounced me. You also had every intention of killing my daughter. I told you if you hurt her I would drown you myself, and now I will do that.”

  “This is an outrage!”

  “It is fair,” Ciphus said. “It is just.”

  “Come!” Qurong ordered.

  A guard stepped in, followed by a line of others, moving quickly. Twenty filed in and surrounded them.

  The supreme leader stepped up to Woref, grabbed the band across his chest that gave him his rank, and ripped it free. “Bind them!” he ordered. “They will drown tonight.” He threw the sash on the floor and stepped toward the door.

  “What of the other albino?” Ciphus asked. “She came willingly. On your behalf.”

  Qurong’s eyes were sad and his fight was gone. He looked at Mikil. “Release her.”

  43

  THOMAS STOOD in heavy leg chains on the wooden platform that reached out over the muddy lake. A half circle of roughly fifty hooded warriors, each armed with swords and sickles, stood behind the dock. Every third one carried a blazing torch that cut the night with flickering orange light. Ciphus waited to one side with several council members, avoiding eye contact with Thomas. Qurong was evidently on his way.

  None of this mattered to Thomas. Only Chelise mattered. He searched the darkness behind the guards for a glimpse of her. Neither she nor Woref had been brought yet.

  Conflicting emotions had beat at Thomas as he lay in the black cell. He’d wanted to die; he’d wanted to live.

  At any moment he might die as he lay on the bed where they were draining his blood. Part of him begged Elyon to spare him the agony of seeing Chelise drowned by allowing him to die now.

  Part of him begged Elyon to let him live another hour, long enough to see his love j
ust one more time. They would die, but in their death they would be together. He couldn’t bear the thought of not looking into her eyes again.

  He didn’t know what they’d done with her after they’d been pulled apart at the library, but his mind hadn’t rested in imagining. Was she in her castle, crying on her bed while her mother wept for her life in the courtyard? Was she in the dungeon, thrown to the floor like a used doll? Was she demanding her father reconsider his sentence or screaming at him for abandoning her in favor of this mad religion he’d embraced?

  Thomas faced the lake and scanned the barely visible distant shore. Who was watching from the trees? Mikil and Johan, maybe. But they were powerless without swords. He was amazed to realize he had no fear of this drowning that awaited him. Justin had suffered far worse.

  But Chelise . . . dear Chelise, how could she have consigned herself to death with this mad admission of love for him? He didn’t care about the honor it brought him. He didn’t care that she had stood up for principle or that she’d done what was right. He only cared what happened to her.

  She would die. Not just in this life, but if he understood Justin, in whatever life awaited them.

  Thomas lifted his eyes to the stars. Why? How could you do this to such a tender soul? She isn’t beautiful to you? Her skin offends you? Then why did you put this ache for her in my heart? This is how you will leave your bride?

  There was a commotion behind him, and he twisted to see if . . .

  Thomas caught his breath. She was there. Chelise walked down the bank between four horses that guarded her. She was dressed in a white gown and she held her head steady, giving no sign that she was the victim rather than the administrator of this drowning.

  Thomas searched her face to see if she had seen him, but her hood was raised and her eyes were shaded. The guards parted to receive her.

  Thomas saw Qurong then, riding nobly on his horse with a large guard. They came down the shore from Thomas’s right. There was no sign of Patricia.

  Qurong stopped twenty yards up the bank. He would see his own sentence through without any display of weakness. But even from here, Thomas could see the supreme leader’s drawn face. He wouldn’t be surprised if those were claw marks on his neck from Patricia.

  Now Woref was being marched down the bank behind Chelise. But Thomas didn’t care about Woref.

  Chelise walked past the warriors. The flames lit her face.

  She was staring at him.

  Thomas felt his remaining strength wane. His face wrinkled in sorrow. She stepped onto the platform and stopped ten feet from him. Thomas moved toward her without thinking.

  “Back!” A fist clubbed his head. The night went fuzzy, but he didn’t lose sight of Chelise.

  “We are dying for our love!” she said for all to hear. “You’ll deny even that? If you are going to drown us, then let us share at least a moment of the love we are dying for!”

  The guard glanced at his superior.

  “Let her go to him,” Qurong said.

  Chelise walked toward him slowly, like an angel. Her chains, hidden by the flowing white gown, rattled on the boards. Fresh tears ran from her eyes when she was halfway to him. He stumbled toward her, and they fell into each other’s arms.

  There was no reason to speak. The tears, the touch, the hot breath on their necks spoke much louder than words.

  Shame on the rest! They stood watching a true love that had been condemned by the religion they had the nerve to call the Great Romance.

  Here was romance!

  Woref stepped onto the platform.

  “Enough,” Qurong said. “Finish this before I force the rest of you in with them!”

  “Put them abreast!” Ciphus ordered.

  “You gave your life for me,” Chelise whispered in his ear. “Now I will die for you.” She sniffed.

  “You don’t have to!” Thomas said. “It’s not too late . . . your father will accept your denial. Please, I know your love, but you have to find a red pool . . .”

  Hands pulled her from behind. Her eyes looked into his.

  “You’re my red pool,” she said.

  “We aren’t going to make it!” Mikil said. “They’re already on the platform. Hurry!”

  She’d raced back to the others, knowing that she would need their help if there was any chance to save Thomas. But time was running out.

  “We still don’t know if this will work,” Suzan said. “We still have time to stop the execution. Four of us with swords could scatter them!”

  “Not as easily as you think,” Johan said. “If they have the sashes of assassins, they won’t run like the ones we walked through the other day.”

  “We can’t save him by killing the Scabs,” Mikil snapped. “We might as well be Scabs ourselves. Just dig!”

  Jamous threw his weight into his sharpened stick. The passage was now four feet deep, and they clawed away at both ends. Close, so close. Any swing and either wall of remaining dirt would be breached. They’d cleared over a hundred medium-size boulders and now worked feverishly with torn hands on the soil that separated the two bodies of water.

  Mikil shoved the dirt aside as fast as she could, careful not to be hit by one of their digging sticks. Her husband paused, panting. “Suzan’s right. We don’t know this will—”

  “Just dig! There’s nothing that says it takes more than a drop! Is an ocean of blood better than a bucket? One drop of Thomas’s blood and I can enter his dream world. I’m telling you that one drop of this will do the same. Now—”

  “I’m through!” Johan shouted.

  They froze. Had his voice carried across the lake? It no longer mattered. They were running out of time.

  “It’s flowing!” Johan dropped to his knees and pulled aside clods of dirt. Red water spilled over his fingers and splashed into the bottom of their trench.

  “The other side!” Mikil cried. “Break it down!”

  “Unhand me!” Woref seethed.

  The guards shoved them into position, three abreast across the wide platform. Several tall towers similar to the one they’d used to drown Justin stood to the left of the dock. Evidently Qurong had ordered a method that would spare him from watching his daughter struggling while hanging from her feet, half submerged. The heavy bronze shackles around their ankles would pull them to the bottom where they would drown unseen.

  They now stood ten yards from the end of the platform. Chelise looked straight ahead, jaw set. But her show of strength couldn’t stop the steady flow of tears down her white cheeks.

  Thomas tore his eyes away from her. Please, Elyon, I beg you. Rescue your bride. Have mercy.

  “Step forward,” Ciphus ordered. “Stop at the edge of the platform.”

  Hands pushed Thomas. He moved ahead without any more encouragement. “Please, Chelise. This water means nothing to me, but I can’t bear the thought of your death.”

  “I couldn’t live with myself,” she said softly. “And you’re wrong. My father would never undo what he’s ordered. I don’t want him to.”

  He came to the edge and stopped. “You could save yourself. You could save me. You could keep my heart from breaking.”

  Woref looked ahead at the forest, eyes now searching with quick movements. “I beg you, I beg you,” he whispered. His stoic bravado had been replaced by this odd plea to the forest.

  Thomas followed his eyes. This was the same forest in which he’d seen the Shataiki after Justin’s death. What did Woref see?

  “I beg you, my lord,” the general muttered. He was crying out to Teeleh, Thomas thought. Let him.

  Thomas followed Chelise’s gaze into the dark water ten feet below them. Long poles disappeared into the black depths. How many bodies were entombed down there, bones chained to their anchors?

  The guards were binding their hands behind their backs now.

  “Please, my love . . .”

  “You’ve drowned before.”

  “But not in this water.”

  “D
id you know that when you dove in, or did you sink in desperation?” It had been both. Fear and a sliver of faith. But there was nothing to hope for here. He stared across the lake. Beyond the torch’s reach the water was jet-black. Blacker than midnight. Blacker than he remembered.

  “Now stand and face the rage of Elyon,” Ciphus said behind them. The planks creaked under his feet as he paced. His voice rose. “Let this be a lesson to all who would defy the Great Romance by denouncing those whom Elyon himself has put over this land.”

  Chelise looked at him. The flames danced in her misty eyes. Her lips trembled. “You are my husband.”

  “And you are my wife,” he whispered.

  “Prepare them!” Ciphus said.

  A guard behind each of them planted a fist between their shoulder blades and grabbed their hair.

  “Pull!”

  The guards jerked their hair down so that their heads buckled backward, forcing them to stare at the sky above. Three abreast, hands bound with canvas strips, feet laden by heavy chains, powerless and readied to die.

  Mikil dropped to one knee on the right of the trench and stared across the black waters. Jamous knelt beside her; Johan and Suzan followed their lead on the other side.

  “Please, Elyon,” she whispered. “Mercy. Save him.”

  She glanced down at her left. The trench was roughly two feet wide and four feet long, and it now flowed with a rich stream of the red water from the red pool they’d found behind them. Thomas had told Kara about it absently, but the moment Qurong had sentenced him and Chelise to death in the library, she’d known that this was their only hope. To find the pool of Elyon’s water and dig through the barrier between it and the Horde’s lake.

  But would it be enough?

  The red water looked like a black fan as it spread out into the brown muddy waters. Moving fast. Faster than she would have guessed.

  “Please, Justin. Save your bride.”

  “Thomas!” Chelise’s voice was faint, tight. Her throat felt frozen. She’d seen both kinds of drownings before—from the platform and the tower— and if there was any measure of relief in her sentence, it was that Qurong had mercifully chosen the platform. In a fit of outrage, her mother had finally demanded at least that much, and her father had quickly agreed.