Destiny

by Fiona McIntosh

  Arabella met him with one of her affectionate hugs. ‘It’s good to have you back,’ she said, although she could already see from the grim set of his jaw that he brought tidings she did not want to hear.

  ‘Is Solyana here?’ he said, pulling free of her hug but deliberately not letting go of her hand yet. As his Paladin, she craved his nearness, and he knew it would be wrong to foist all his grief onto her by being too abrupt or by not allowing her affections.

  ‘No,’ the priestess replied. ‘I have not seen her in a long time.’

  They walked together deeper into the Forest, towards the Heartwood which Tor could feel tugging him closer. He could even hear the singsong excitement of the Flames calling to him.

  ‘So much to tell you,’ he said.

  ‘You look thin, tell me as we eat.’ She pointed towards a spread of food and they sat beneath one of the wood’s great trees and shared a meal.

  ‘Orlac is here,’ he said finally.

  She stopped her chewing and eyed him. Arabella chose not to interrupt him—it was important for him to tell her all he needed to. ‘Go on.’ It was almost a whisper.

  He told her about Adongo and his brief message, as well as what he and Cloot had surmised. She did react to this, instantly frightened for Lauryn. Arabella also realised that the time of the Paladin was fast approaching—the final battle they all had spoken of for centuries.

  The priestess could see that Tor was distracted enough without her adding her fear to the boiling cauldron of his thoughts. ‘What do we do?’

  ‘We await Cloot. Decisions will be made once he arrives. Do you know why I’ve returned now, Arabella?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘Tell me about Rubyn.’

  Her brow creased and she looked confused. ‘Rubyn? Who is this person?’

  Tor was surprised. Somehow he had expected her to sigh with relief and tell him everything, but it seemed the Heartwood kept its secrets…even from its own sometimes.

  ‘Rubyn is my son.’

  Her expression changed to puzzlement. ‘I don’t understand. Gidyon is your son.’

  ‘That’s true, but I’ve recently been informed that there was a third child born in the Heartwood that day. Alyssa birthed a frail boy—this information was known by no one but Sorrel and I imagine Darmud Coril, but I thought you may have discovered this?’

  She shook her head, looking shocked, before wonderment crossed her face. Arabella put down the piece of fruit she was chewing on.

  ‘A third child. The Trinity?’

  He nodded. She wept…put her arms around him and wept again. He joined her but could not be sure whether his tears were for Rubyn or, more likely, for his lost daughter. Tor told Arabella all that he had learned since he last met her, including the death of Sorrel which she was sad to hear about.

  ‘She was certainly a secretive old girl,’ she admitted. ‘You knew the husband, of course—it seems they were a pair well matched.’

  Tor nodded. ‘Their deeds were carried out as they tried to right the wrong of buying a stolen child, keeping his identity secret. Once they learned of his birthright, I imagine they were terrified. I still don’t know how old Merkhud—or indeed Sorrel—actually was, but I’d guess at centuries.’

  Arabella nodded thoughtfully, recalling the day of Tor’s return to the Heartwood bringing his own smashed corpse with him. ‘When you left his body to return to your own, he sighed into his death. When I looked at where he lay, he was turned to dust. A soft breeze rustled through the Heartwood as if divinely sent. It blew the dust away,’ she said.

  ‘It was the same with Sorrel. We were holding her hands as she told us of Rubyn but when she slipped into death, she turned to nothing more than a palmful of dust. How many years they must have spent in their tormented search,’ he replied.

  ‘And you, Tor?’

  He looked at her, a slight shake of his head telling her he did not understand her question.

  ‘Who are you?’

  He smiled briefly. ‘Who knows?’ he said sadly. ‘I thought I was the son of a simple village scribe. All I know is that Jhon and Ailsa Gynt are my parents…the only parents I’ve ever known, but who my true birth mother and father are, I have not learned. I don’t think I ever will. They perished in a fire. To this day I don’t know whether I have sisters or brothers.’

  ‘How did you come to live with the Gynts?’

  ‘A traveller took pity on me. None of the villagers from where I was born could take on another child, and this woman cared for me but she was always on the move and not really in a situation to raise a son. She stopped at an inn in Mallee Marsh and Ailsa Gynt, my mother, could not bear not to give me a home.’ He shrugged. It still hurt to think that he was not a true son of Jhon and Ailsa.

  ‘They had no children of their own?’

  Tor shook his head. ‘My mother was barren. That’s part of the reason they agreed so readily. It’s strange though,’ Tor said, running his fingers through his hair, ‘I used to draw pictures of my family. My parents always found it amusing that I drew us as four.’

  ‘A sister I suppose,’ Arabella smiled.

  ‘No, an elder brother. He always seemed menacing in my drawings.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Oh, it’s hard to say. This was so many years ago. I always drew him as though he was remote from the three of us and he looked angry in my pictures.’

  ‘What do you think that means?’

  ‘I don’t think about it to be honest. I was a child. Perhaps I desperately wanted company. I really don’t know, Arabella.’ Tor felt slightly uncomfortable delving back into his past like this. The brother in his pictures used to play on his mind but he had not thought about him in so long; he preferred not to reopen the past in this way.

  Arabella obviously sensed it. ‘And the woman?’

  ‘You mean the traveller?’

  She nodded.

  ‘No one knows. Never heard from her again. I was a little amazed too when I found out that my parents had asked no questions, but I think they so desperately wanted a child that they could put aside all objections to taking someone else’s without any formalities.’

  ‘Does it bother you, Tor?’

  ‘No. That’s the past.’

  ‘I didn’t mean that,’ she said, reaching to take his hand. ‘I meant does it ever occur to you that there are similarities between Orlac and yourself?’

  Tor seemed taken aback. ‘I’m not sure I understand you.’

  ‘Well, Orlac was taken from his true parents, as you were.’

  ‘Except mine died in a fire.’

  ‘So you say,’ she said, and he ignored the doubt in her words.

  ‘Orlac was stolen, I was given—there are no similarities.’

  Arabella could see how defensive Tor had become. She had no desire to upset him and it was obvious to her that Gynt had most certainly considered the parallel paths of himself and the god Orlac. It was also obvious he preferred not to openly discuss it.

  She stretched in a deliberate move to show him that she had no intention of pursuing the conversation. Arabella smiled. ‘What about Rubyn? How do you find him?’

  Tor ran his fingers through his hair and stood to stretch his long legs. ‘I’ve thought of nothing else since I left Tal. I have this strong feeling that Solyana might be his Paladin and that she will know where he is,’ he said, leaning back against a tree.

  And you would be right, said a familiar voice.

  Tor swung to his left and saw the huge wolf, her silver-tipped fur seeming to sparkle in the dappled light of the Heartwood.

  ‘Solyana!’ they both said and moved towards her.

  ‘Where?’ Tor demanded, unable to contain his excitement.

  Wait. Someone approaches, the wolf cautioned.

  The Heartwood will not permit entry, Tor said, confidently.

  It already has.

  Who? Arabella demanded.

  Friends, the great wolf replied, her
mouth open; it looked like a grin.

  Kythay entered the clearing with Alyssa and Saxon strolling on either side. Each wore a self-satisfied grin and loved the look of bewilderment on Tor’s face.

  ‘Look who met us,’ Alyssa said, smiling widely. When no one responded, she filled the confused quiet. ‘Well, say something!’

  Tor found his voice. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I can’t stand the silence.’

  ‘No, I mean why are you here?’

  She could not tell immediately if he was pleased or unhappy to see her. Perhaps he did not care for her having left their children in the city.

  She deliberately avoided explanations. ‘Long story. Any chance of some food? Saxon is useless as a travelling companion.’

  The Kloek spat in his habitual way but said nothing.

  They all stood just a few feet apart staring, waiting for someone to make the first move or something to break through the trance-like spell between the husband and wife. It was Tor who strode forward and clasped Alyssa close. He did not speak, just held her while the others quietly drifted away. Tor could hear Arabella’s affectionate welcome for Saxon and his subsequent pleasure at seeing Solyana again. Kythay ambled off into the depths of the Forest, as was his way.

  Tor loosened his hold on his wife and held her back so he could look at her lovely face. ‘I daren’t allow myself the pleasure but I am so, so glad you’re here.’

  ‘You look sad.’

  ‘Long story,’ he echoed. ‘Have something to eat; we need to share it with Saxon too.’

  ‘What’s wrong? Not Rubyn?’ Alyssa thought her heart would break.

  ‘No, my love. I have not seen him yet, although Solyana knows something. I have news of Orlac.’ He did not want to say more and she did not want to hear it now. Instead Tor touched his finger to the pale green disk at her forehead and it dropped to the ground.

  I hate that marking you, he whispered across the Link.

  I shall never wear it again, she said, loving the feeling of empowerment and her reconnection with the Link and the man she loved.

  In saying that you, I presume, have news too? He could sense it within her, desperate to spill out.

  She nodded. ‘Let’s eat,’ she said cautiously. ‘And then we’ll all share our tidings.’

  Tor and Arabella sat back and watched Alyssa and Saxon hungrily devour the plentiful remains of their simple meal. Alyssa admitted that food had never tasted quite so good.

  Solyana sat patiently by Tor whose hand constantly ruffled or stroked her amazingly thick silver-tipped fur.

  A hush finally fell over the group and Alyssa, wishing it were her sitting so close to Tor instead of the wolf, decided she must speak first and tell them the news from Tal. It was suddenly hard to think of Lorys, now that she was in the presence of her one true love, his brilliantly bright cornflower-blue gaze pinioning her. She felt light-headed. Alyssa cleared her throat and addressed the gathered.

  ‘I’m here because I am no longer Queen of Tallinor.’

  Arabella made a sound of shock. Tor did not say anything but she noticed his eyes narrow as he tried to make sense of what she had just said. She continued, hoping the Light would keep her voice strong. She really did not want to cry any more.

  ‘Lorys is dead.’ Simplicity was best she decided, as she watched the look of disbelief now cross Tor’s face.

  ‘How can this be? How can this have happened?’ he asked her. ‘Surely not on the road—he was due to arrive back at Tal just hours after I left. You had a messenger to say he was well.’

  She nodded gently, showing that she understood all of this to be true but that he did not know the end of the tale. When Tor stopped talking Alyssa paused and composed herself. She was determined not to weep again over the monarch she had loved.

  ‘Not long after you left Tal, another messenger arrived. He had ridden at high speed, almost killing himself and his horse on the muddy road…’

  Tor suddenly recalled the messenger bearing the royal oriflamme, who had been travelling so incredibly fast in dangerous conditions that he and Cloot had commented upon it.

  ‘I saw that messenger. I thought I noticed tears on his face but could not tell because of the rain.’

  ‘They were tears,’ Alyssa confirmed. ‘He had ridden to deliver the news that the King of Tallinor had been killed by a freak hand of lightning during the storm.’ She could not go on when she saw Tor put his head in his hands.

  Saxon mercifully picked up the tale. ‘The King died instantly, we were assured by Herek. His body was brought to Tal and was entombed after the traditional laying out.’

  Solyana laid her belly to the ground, her head on her paws and Arabella hugged her knees, her forehead touching them, as she began to consider what these tidings meant.

  ‘Alyssa, why are you here then? What do you mean you aren’t Queen any more? Who is ruling Tallinor?’ Tor asked, confused.

  ‘Tallinor has a new monarch. His name is Gyl of Wytton.’

  This caught Tor by surprise. ‘Your adopted son?’

  She hated the term; had only ever thought of Gyl as her son. ‘He was bastard born to the King. I have only known of it since just before our marriage and Lorys and I never had the right opportunity to tell him.’

  Tor shook his head. ‘So Lorys was unfaithful to Nyria?’ It seemed somehow obscene, and yet why he knew not. The Light knew he had been unfaithful to his wife many times since their marriage!

  She nodded and smiled at his loyalty to Nyria. ‘Once apparently. Only Kyt Cyrus—the former Prime whom you have told me so much about —and Merkhud knew of it. The old man apparently ensured protection for Gyl; saw to it he was educated and well cared for. His mother suffered the Green Fever and died when he was very young.’

  Tor fitted the jigsaw piece into place in his mind. ‘I see now. This is why Gyl was tied to the palace gates…his dying mother hoped the royals would take pity on the child.’

  Alyssa shrugged. ‘Perhaps, although I doubt she would have expected him to be given such privilege. She probably hoped they would find a good home for him—who knows? He was not base-born and I can only guess that in her state it was the best she could think of to do for him. As mother of the King’s son, bastard or not, she needed to make sure Gyl had an opportunity to be near his father.’

  ‘How did he take the news?’

  ‘Badly,’ Alyssa and Saxon said together.

  ‘He’ll cope,’ Alyssa followed up. ‘Gyl will make a fine King…and you’re right about the other business, Lauryn and Gyl. I think I owe you a gold piece.’ She found a smile, pleased that all the bad news from her end was shared and done with.

  ‘Ah…which brings me to my bad news.’

  ‘Lauryn and Gyl?’

  ‘Just Lauryn.’

  ‘I left her just a day or so ago. She was not happy about my leaving but she was safe. What’s happened?’

  ‘Not so safe, it seems. She’s disappeared.’ Before Alyssa or Saxon could speak what was springing to their lips, he added flatly: ‘Orlac has her.’

  Alyssa was on her feet so fast it shocked everyone. She had Tor’s shirtfront in her hands, was dragging at him, desperate to know what he knew of their daughter.

  ‘All I know is that he has taken her and they are headed north.’

  ‘How! How can he already be here?’ She felt the bile rise to her throat and her powers surge back through her for the first time in many, many years. Alyssa was frightened she would strike out randomly in her despair.

  ‘He has visited Tal somehow. No one could know who he is except Adongo, Lauryn’s Paladin, who is with her—and Cloot and I are assuming that he knows who Orlac is but not the other way around. Adongo’s identity has been kept secret from the god—it’s the only protection he has for our daughter.’

  ‘Where is he taking her?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Why aren’t you already chasing him?’ she demanded, ignoring Saxon’s shuffle by her side. It
was his way of suggesting she calm down.

  ‘I’m waiting for Cloot to return from the north. He flew to Caradoon to see if he could pick up any news or clues on Orlac’s whereabouts.’

  ‘Too late! We are too late, Tor. He’s got our girl!’ she exclaimed, her resolve crumpling as he took her into his arms.

  ‘He won’t hurt her, Alyssa. We’d know if he had. I would feel it, I’m sure. My belief is he will use her as a lure. You didn’t bring Gidyon with you?’

  ‘He left for Brittelbury almost as soon as you left Tal. He felt badly about his stone. He’s gone after that girl, Yseul.’

  ‘It’s too dangerous, our being separated like this,’ Tor worried.

  ‘He’ll be safe—he said he would return immediately.’

  ‘I hope you’re right. Did he meet up with Figgis?’

  She nodded. ‘They left as soon as Figgis arrived.’

  They noticed they were virtually alone. Saxon and Arabella had quietly taken their leave. Only Solyana remained on the edge of the clearing. It seemed she dozed, although Tor knew not to be fooled. The wolf was giving them privacy.

  ‘As soon as Cloot returns, I’m going after Orlac.’

  Alyssa nodded. ‘We’ll both go. I didn’t chase after you to be left alone in the Forest.’

  He kissed her and she welcomed it, pulling him closer, holding him hard, demanding with her own mouth that their touch be prolonged.

  ‘Does this mean we can be husband and wife again?’ Tor asked, tentatively, as they parted.

  ‘It does.’

  The smile which broke from his mouth and sparkled in his eyes at her two words lifted her spirits enormously.

  Together at last, he said across the Link.

  Until death breaches us, she replied, and then shivered at what suddenly sounded like prophetic words.

  He arrived in Caradoon as the sun rose. Circling high overhead his sharp eyesight took in the disturbing scene below. Cloot did not want to fly any lower. He could already see who it was who hung upside down and bloodied between those trees and there was no mistaking who strutted before her.

  The falcon let out a single cry of despair which was carried away on the wind. For Tor’s sake, he found the courage to descend into the trees and absorb the ugliness before him. He did not linger.