The Topaz Embrace

by The Topaz Embrace (lit)

My bedchamber. My Oracle.

  It hadn’t taken Tallon much introspection as he swam on the far side of the island to realize the truth. Timon had used Tallon’s grief over his family to turn him against Ankhet. He’d run the entire way from the beach at the far side of the island. Thank the gods he had.

  Their gazes locked, hers terrified and heartbroken, his repentant. “My Oracle, forgive me. Because of my own stupidity, I came within seconds of losing the most important person in my life. I’ll gladly pay with my own life, if need be, for my part in this.”

  His heart broke at the sight of his beloved Ankhet, gazing at him in sorrow, tears slipping freely from her amber eyes.

  “You deceived me? You only intended to get close enough to kill me? All those times we… ” Her face flamed in embarrassment at the extent of their intimacy, and she drew herself up. “And what of the times you professed your love?”

  “I didn’t lie about my feelings, Ankhet. I know you can’t believe, but I swear it’s the truth. Forgive me, my Oracle. I beg of you. I came to you under false pretenses, filled with rage for someone I did not know, over a tragedy I thought I understood, but did not.” She remained silent, lost in the grip of her inner turmoil, he supposed. “Yes, it began as a deception, but it became more true and pure than anything in my life. A life that changed the moment I looked into your eyes and saw the goodness of your heart.” From the corner of his eye, he caught movement on the far side of the room. Timon leapt nimbly to his feet, drawing the knife he’d worn sheathed at his side, a confident smile filled with malice wreathing his face.

  “Yes, do make your peace with one another. This will be your last opportunity.”

  “We shall see, Timon. I’m through listening to you. You fed me a pack of lies to fuel my grief and turn me into your personal assassin.” He gave a bark of harsh laugh of self-recrimination. “How stupid of me to listen to you. The Oracle Standard did nothing wrong. The tragedy in Sydney resulted from you and your ilk within the Federation.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, trader. You’ve gone mad from your grief at the loss of your parents.”

  “Ah, so I’m to be your dupe as well. Very clever. Should anyone suspect anything is amiss, you’ll simply ensure the blame falls on the insane stranger. ”

  Timon circled him, edgy and dangerous like a caged lion. “The Federation must prevail. It is destined to replace the Oracle Standard, and I plan to be instrumental toward that end. One day, I’ll be Chief Consul of the Federation.”

  “Ah, so ambitious, Timon.” He tracked the official as he moved about, chin raised in pompous delusion, dots of spittle at the corner of his mouth, and a foul stench of sweat and patchouli clouding the room. Tallon tried to appear relaxed, yet he knew every moment the location of his adversary’s blade. “Sydney served simply as a power ploy for you.” He laughed humorlessly at the waste of precious life, thrown away in the name of power for one man. “You resent the power of the Oracle Standard and chose that brutal method to begin the destruction of the Standard for your own purposes. And I helped you.” Tallon shook his head in disgust. “That is over ‘Ambassador’ Timon.”

  Timon threw back his head and laughed. “‘Ambassador’ is my true title, fool. It’s the Acolyte role I’ve portrayed all these years that is false.”

  Ankhet’s gasp of shock drew the attention of both men. “Treason, Timon? You’d commit treason?”

  “Oh, I’d do much more than mere treason, my Oracle.” He gave her an arch look as Tallon attempted to draw him to the far side of the room. “Did you never wonder why an experienced sailor like your father would capsize his sailing vessel on calm water?”

  Cold swept through her body and wrapped around her heart in an icy vice. She’d never suspected her poor father had been murdered. She’d failed him too. She fought back tears of grief and anger. “You betrayed me, Timon. You betrayed the people. You betrayed my father.”

  “And I intend to prosper for it.”

  Tallon could see her struggle to maintain her composure and her dignity. He nearly snapped. “I’ll kill you this day for what you’ve done, or die trying.” The warmth in the room grew stifling, and he saw beads of sweat break out upon Timon’s brow.

  Timon drew his knife from its sheath. “You will trader. You will. Die that is.” He moved to the spot where he’d stood with Ankhet, dropped into a low squat, and retrieved his discarded sword from the floor with a dancer’s grace. He held both weapons brandished in Tallon’s direction.

  Timon’s crude snigger chilled Tallon to the marrow. The man, mad beyond all reason, would take Ankhet’s life if Tallon fell. One way or another. Even as he raised his sword in a defensive posture, anticipating the impending offensive strike from Timon, Tallon turned to Ankhet for one last look. “I love you, Oracle. If I fall, do whatever you must to save yourself.”

  “Oh, Tallon...” She reached out to him. He did the same and their fingers came within a hair’s breadth of touching before Timon suddenly lunged in toward Tallon, sword on the attack, forcing Tallon to back away from her.

  Tallon parried Timon’s first few blows with ease, but he’d no second blade and Timon used the knife to his advantage, feinting with diabolical skill. Soon, Tallon covered in lacerations, his blood seeping downward in lacy patterns, immersed himself in the struggle for survival. Strong, and with a talent all his own, honed on the mean streets of Sydney rather than in a fencing salon, he held his own at first. Timon applied a surprising degree of inventiveness for a classically trained fencer and he’d the strength of a mad man. He seemed never to tire, and the smile of glee remained fixed upon his face as he drove Tallon about the room, delivering punishing cuts and deadly thrusts that barely missed their target. All seemed hopeless.

  Tallon’s reflexes slowed as he tired, his multiple wounds, though none severe collectively began to drain his energy. Then he noticed a curious pattern in his adversary’s movements, more of a rhythm, really, or a habit. He gambled and feinted low with his sword, and when Timon leaned forward into his favored, aggressive lunge, Tallon drove his blade in toward Timon in a twisting disengagement. His blade slid forward and around Timon’s sword, pulling his weapon from his hand, and Tallon’s sword drove straight into Timon’s belly. The knife Timon held aloft in his other hand proved useless as he stared at Tallon in surprise.

  Ankhet gasped from her position in the corner of the room.

  Though he longed to look at her, a wary Tallon waited, poised for Timon to counter with his knife, but he simply stood in place, mouth open and rounded in shock, until his life’s blood began to seep from his mouth. Dropping his knife, he glanced downward at the bronze implanted in his belly, then looked up at Tallon. “No. You weren’t supposed to win.”

  With ruthless efficiency, Tallon yanked his blade free and blood gushed from the mortal wound.

  “No. I should have everything.” Timon uttered in the petulant whine of a spoiled child deprived of a treat, or the final regret of a dying man.

  “You turned treacherous and evil, a dire threat to the very people you swore to protect. Now you have nothing, ‘Ambassador’ Timon.” Even the peace-loving, gentle Ankhet could find no forgiving words for such a creature.

  As he sank with slow finality to his knees, Timon let out a weak cackle. “I did manage to take something from you, Oracle…”

  He toppled face-forward onto the marble and lay still.

  The immediate threat now passed, Tallon stood down, tossing his sword to the side in utter exhaustion. His gaze met that of his beloved and the meaning of Timon’s cruel words struck them both at the same moment.

  “Dear sweet gods!” cried Ankhet. “Danar!”

  Together they raced through the Oracle apartments to the Great Hall, stopping short at the sight they met in the vast marble, torch-lit space.

  Chapter 10

  The sounds of conflict awakened him. At first, he thought perhaps he’d passed and gone to the netherworld, and then he heard Tallon, then An
khet. Worst of all, he’d heard Timon and known the dire jeopardy his family faced. They needed him. Danar had lost such a vast quantity of blood he barely clung to consciousness, but by sheer will and devotion, he managed to drag himself to his feet, using his sword for leverage.

  The hall tilted and whirled about him as he squinted, trying to find his balance and see through the haze of pain and profuse sweat that dripped from his hair down into his eyes. He lurched forward, managing to stagger a few steps before he had to stop. His breath came in quick shallow bursts, never quite satisfying his body’s need for air. He kept going a few moments more, though it seemed hours, and the distance from the sanctuary to the Oracle apartments seeming to grow, rather than recede with each step.

  He reached the halfway point before sinking to his knees, his life’s energy at low ebb. He swiped the back of his free hand across his sweat-covered brow and looked up to see the horrified gazes of Ankhet and Tallon as they burst from the Oracle apartments. Engrossed in his fog of pain and brutal mortality, he couldn’t manage to utter a word, but smiled at them. His friends. Ankhet, his love.

  He’d just lifted his hand toward Ankhet, to reach out for her, when the bloody horror loomed behind her. Timon stumbled just to her side as he brought the knife up to her throat—out of reach of an unarmed, stunned Tallon. As Timon’s muscles tensed to make the killing cut, Danar acted with ingrained reflex, a surge of energy and focus filling him from some god-sent force. He grabbed the knife at his side, tossed it in the air to reverse its position so he clasped the edge of the blade, and threw with all the might and precision left within him.

  It lodged deep in the villain’s throat.

  Ankhet screamed and jerked away, a shocked Tallon enfolding her in a protective embrace.

  Timon gurgled and clawed in futile desperation at the offending knife, shock reflected on his countenance, his mouth drawn back and eyes wide with disbelief as he collapsed. Dead at last.

  Danar must have lost consciousness for a moment. The next thing he knew, he lay on the cold floor, Ankhet cushioning his head upon her lap and Tallon at his side. “Forgive me, my Oracle, for my jealousy. I wasted precious time caught up in that traitor’s web of deceit.”

  “Shh. Hush, Danar. I do not blame you. Timon proved a very skilled manipulator. We all fell victim to his lies. You stood by me in the end.”

  He felt the splash of her tears upon his face, and like a gentle spring rain, they renewed his soul, if not his life.

  He looked to Tallon, an odd drowsiness besetting him, making it difficult to keep his eyes open. “I would devote my life to our triad, if I could. We shared a unique blessing, though for so brief a time. Promise me you’ll watch over our Oracle. Keep her safe and make her happy.”

  Tallon sank to his knees next to Danar, clasping his arm. “I do not deserve the chance to be with her after all I’ve done, but I swear, Danar, to do all that you ask and pledge my life to our union, if only our lady will forgive my doubt.”

  He turned to Ankhet. “I deceived you then dared to doubt you, though you showed me nothing but truth and love.” Overcome by emotion, his voice choked to a halt. “My poor choices almost cost your life. Will you forgive me, my lady?”

  Drifting into sleep, Danar thought he heard her gentle affirmative, and he smiled just a bit. He could rest at peace now that he knew his beloved had forgiven him and would not be alone through her life’s journey.

  * * * *

  In a silvery cascade, Ankhet’s tears rained down upon the fallen guard. Her beloved. Her Co-Consort. He’d sacrificed himself for them. She’d never again look into his eyes and feel his strength pouring into her—a gift he’d given for years, unnoticed, yet so essential to her survival. All creatures needed love, but to her, as an Oracle, and with the tremendous responsibility resting upon her shoulders, it had been her only relief until Tallon came into her life. She needed more time to make up for his long years of suffering. They could not have discovered such joy together only to have it ripped from them. The gods could not be so cruel. The gems could not deal their servant such woe. Could they?

  She looked over at Tallon, kneeling on Danar’s other side, still clasping his arm in a warrior’s grasp, tears welling in his own eyes as he looked upon her agony. “Tallon, I can’t lose him. I can’t bear it.” Sobs shook her body as she clasped Danar’s hand to her face and reached out with her other hand to feel his fading heartbeat.

  “Is there nothing you can do?” Tallon asked.

  Is there? “I don’t know. Oracles guide. We protect in an indirect way, but we have never been healers.” Her heart sank. Dread coursed through her body like a vile plague. What if I try and fail? She looked again upon the much-loved planes of Danar’s bloody, battered face. What of it? She must try. “Bring me the tray of gemstones in the chest in the Sanctuary.”

  Tallon loosed his hold of Danar and raced to do her bidding. He returned with the ornate, wood tray of prized, faceted topaz stones. They flashed deep copper, red and gold in the flickering light, as if trying to communicate with their mistress.

  She’d only used these particular stones on three occasions of dire risk for the planet. Her principal duty as Topaz Oracle, to see to the protection of Earth and its people from those who would harm her, involved many tasks. She located threats, advised the military, and to a lesser degree, meditated for the well-being of the citizens. Given Danar’s lifetime of service to the Topaz Oracle Office, he fulfilled an indirect, though essential, role key to the protection of Earth. Danar’s survival warranted any effort including the full force of her will amplified by the Prime Gems.

  Ankhet arose from Danar’s side and moved to her divination platform, pulling off her robes as she went. Having no proscribed ritual for healing, she relied upon instinct. She lit sandalwood incense from the fire in the brazier and accepted the tray, placing it before her.

  “Place your left hand upon his wound and take my left hand in your right. Hurry!”

  Tallon, himself cut and bloody from battle, did as she bid, pressing down firmly upon the mortal, cloth-covered wound through Danar’s belly. Fresh blood seeped between his fingers and dripped upon the pristine white marble floor like red lover’s blossoms cast upon the icy snow of the mountain lands. Dear gods, let him not spill his last remaining life’s blood.

  Ankhet plunged her other hand into the gems upon the tray and, holding tight to Tallon, she invoked her powers with a chant. “Almighty gods and goddesses of the Pantheon, through me channeled, O wise and powerful gems of topaz—gift of the Pantheon, aid your servant, Danar.”

  Over and over she chanted, yet Danar’s soughing breaths grew fainter still. “Tallon! You must chant with me. It’s not enough.”

  “I?”

  “Yes. I need your strength. Just as we three have shared our love, we must share the power of the stones to save Danar.”

  “I’ll do anything you ask, my Oracle.”

  She looked to Tallon, their gazes meeting in mutual understanding and respect. The gems blessed her above all women to have known two such supportive, giving men.

  With her nod, they began. In concert, they chanted, “Almighty gods and goddesses of the Pantheon, through me channeled. O wise and powerful gems of topaz—gift of the Pantheon, aid your servant, Danar.”

  Over and over they chanted, unaware of the passage of time. Danar’s color worsened, turning a sickly pale gray. His breathing now barely perceptible, Ankhet’s tears of grief and frustration flowed freely and exhaustion took hold of both of them. They’d nearly reached the end of their endurance, when a faint amber glow emanated from the tray of gems. The glow traveled up the Oracle’s arm, encompassing her body and spreading with slow inexorability toward Tallon. Ankhet gasped in relief, but Tallon started and nearly broke his grasp of Ankhet’s hand.

  “Don’t be afraid, Tallon. This is what we’ve waited for.” She clasped his hand more tightly. “We must not break the connection!”

  On and on they went. The glimmer gre
w brighter and travelled to cover the fallen Danar. Their chanting increased in volume and intensity as they saw the fruition of their labors.

  “There is no more seepage of blood.” Tallon’s horrified announcement nearly stilled her heart, but as they watched, Danar jerked, then coughed. He moaned, and his chest began to rise and fall in steady respiration. They stared in disbelief.

  “Check his wound, Tallon.”

  He turned his head, to meet her glance. At her nod of encouragement, he lifted the blood-soaked cloth from Danar’s wound. Only to find…nothing. He shifted the cloth, exposing the entirety of Danar’s unmarred, muscled abdomen. “There is no wound, my love.”

  Ankhet shut her eyes in thankful praise of the Pantheon and the gems. “He’s been healed. The gems have answered the prayer of their servants.”

  Danar thrashed upon the floor, moaning in pain, and then opened his eyes with a start. “What has happened?”

  “You came back from the abyss, my brother.” Tallon smiled with awe and pride in Ankhet. “Our Oracle brought you back.”

  She smiled at them both. “No. Our love brought you back, Danar, but the gemstones facilitated the miracle the Pantheon permitted.” She took Danar’s hand and squeezed it tight as fresh tears seeped from her eyes. “I thought we’d lost you.”

  “Never, my Oracle. I’d have found some way to come back to you.” Danar tightened his grip on her hand, smiling at her.

  “We must enter the Sanctuary and give thanks.” She wiped the tears from her eyes, and adjusted her topaz girdle and necklace before rising. “Can you walk, Danar?”

  “I’m a bit weak, but I’m sure I can walk for such an important task.” He flashed her a confident grin.

  Ankhet picked up the tray of Prime Gems, their glow now dissipated to their customary gemstone fire, carrying them with reverence.

  “Let me help you up.” Tallon held out his arm, tensed to assist his Co-Consort to his feet.

  The three entered the Sanctuary and Ankhet set the tray of Prime Gems before her brazier and lit fresh incense. She motioned each Consort to move to one side as she stood before the array of Mother Stones and clasped each consort’s hand in hers. “The sacred stones are the agents of the Pantheon and as such, are the guide for the forces ruled by the Pantheon. The simple truth is that the gems and the Pantheon simply channel the greatest power on earth. That power is love.” She smiled at each of her beloveds, her gifts from the gemstones themselves, for certain. “Together, as a triad, we have found an extraordinary love. A gift beyond measure and a power unassailable.” She looked first to Danar, “I pledge my love and loyalty to you for as long as the Pantheon permits me to remain on this earthly plane, and beyond.”