Gidyon looked towards his feet and then back into her strangely light-coloured eyes. He nodded.
‘Of course you did.’ She attempted a brave smile. ‘I don’t have it here, Gidyon. Perhaps I could bring it to you?’
He shrugged. ‘Yes.’ Then, feeling stupid, he added, ‘Are you busy this evening?’
‘Busy? Um…no, the usual things.’
‘That’s right, your family, I forgot,’ he said, wanting to rip his own tongue out for the clumsy way he was handling this.
‘No, they’ll be all right. What were you thinking of?’ He noticed she seemed just as anxious as he was.
‘Oh, it’s just that, I’m here with some friends.’
‘That’s nice,’ she said, nodding, not sure what he meant by this.
‘We’re in the Greatest Show in the Land.’
‘You’re in what? Oh…you mean the Freak Show…at the Green?’
He grinned. ‘Apparently I’m so handsome, it’s freakish.’
And he won the big laugh he wanted to hear from her. ‘Is that so?’
‘But tonight, my friends and I shall be performing a rather incredible balancing act. I thought you might like to come along, bring the stone…bring Gwerys.’
‘You mean it?’
‘Yes, I would love you to join us.’
‘Is Figgis with you? I should like to see him again.’
‘He is. And a new friend, Themesius. He’s a giant. Gwerys’s eyes will fall out of his head when he sees him.’
She burst out laughing again. ‘You jest.’
He shook his head with a knowing look. ‘Promise me you’ll come.’
‘All right. I’ll bring Gwerys…and the stone.’
‘Good. Tonight, then,’ he said, putting down the candles he had been holding during their conversation.
Her pale eyes were shining and she looked so pretty and happy to see him, he could not help himself. Gidyon leaned down and kissed her. Yseul did not allow him to get away with a peck and flung her arms around him. When he pulled away from her embrace he felt breathless.
‘I’m so glad you came,’ she said.
‘I can tell,’ he said and with a final affectionate grin, he left.
On his way back to the caravans, a lightness to his step and a sense of joy in his heart, he opened a Link to his father. I shall have the stone returned tonight.
Good work, son. No trouble?
None. How about you?
Oh, you know, the usual trials…prisoner escaped, your mother and Saxon each shot with an arrow, Cloot’s tracking the attackers…everyday problems.
Gidyon paused, trying to work out if his father was just larking. This is a jest?
His father sounded suddenly tired. No, son. It’s my way of remaining calm. I have just removed the arrowheads from your mother and Saxon. They’re both sleeping now…and healing. I’m sitting here alone and wondering what in the Light will happen next.
Are you all right?
Yes, yes, I’m fine. I’m worried enough about your sister and now this. The arrow was surely meant for me. They were such bad shots.
How bad are the wounds?
They’ll both recover but they’re going to ache for days which will slow us up. I’m hoping the fevers will pass through them swiftly if they have to face them at all.
And Goth?
As soon as they make it through this night, I’m going after him.
Alone?
Cloot and I.
Right, so we’ll start backtracking towards you, then. You’re going to need help.
Head east as fast as you can, son.
We’ll leave tonight after the show.
Show?
A tale too long in the telling.
Fair enough. Get to your mother and Saxon. They’re going to be fairly helpless for a day or two.
The Link snapped shut and Gidyon’s high spirits came crashing back to the dusty road on which he walked.
Night fell and whilst Alyssa and Saxon shivered through the first touch of fever and Tor banked up the fire and watched them closely, Cloot stole ever closer to the group of men which included Goth. He was in obvious pain but the falcon had to admire the man’s strength. He talked through it, telling these men how rich and landed he was. It was obvious they did not recognise him. But then why should they? No longer instantly recognisable as the former chief inquisitor, the men accepted his twitching, tortured face without familiarity.
Cloot listened carefully for any information he could pass back to Tor.
‘Where are you men from?’ Goth asked, edging closer to their fire.
The one who seemed to be the leader grimaced. ‘Nowhere. Sailors originally,’ he said.
‘I’m surprised to see you in this Forest—and such a lonely part of it.’
‘What’s it to you?’
‘Nothing more than curiosity. Most Tallinese are frightened of the Great Forest.’
‘Not us. And not you, it seems.’
‘True,’ Goth said, lying. He had every reason to be afraid of the enchanted wood. He guessed they were men who had good reason to flee to deserted regions…even those considered dangerous. He changed the subject. ‘Where are you headed?’
‘Northwest. Caradoon.’
‘Ah. I know the place well.’
They looked at him carefully now.
‘It’s not a place for gentlemen,’ one replied.
‘I didn’t ever say I was one. I’m simply a rich man.’ Goth laughed mysteriously.
The sailors could tell he was a man with secrets and dark ways. They joined him laughing.
The leader pointed. ‘Then we are glad to have helped you—as you begged. But mind my words. If I don’t see your promised coin soon, I shall slit your throat as easy as a lamb at slaughter.’
Goth nodded. ‘I understand. You have my word. At Caradoon, I shall reward each of you highly for taking me away from those people. Trust me.’ He tried to grin but it never worked for him. ‘And whom might I be sharing this journey with?’
‘No names.’
‘Oh, my good fellow, you need not fear me. I am impressed enough with you both to offer you work. There is no need to find a ship to take your service…which is what I presume you are planning to do in Caradoon. I will pay you handsomely to act as bodyguards.’
The men looked at each other, sizing up the offer.
‘It’s been a while since we were at sea, Nord.’
Nord glared at his companion.
‘Ah, Nord,’ Goth said. ‘I am delighted to make your acquaintance and thank you for rescuing me from those people. Let me thank you properly by paying you a sizeable and regular fee for your protection services.’
‘Starting when?’ the huge former sailor said through slitted eyes.
‘Right now. You don’t think they will not give chase. I’ve already warned you about the bird.’
Nord snorted. ‘I’m not scared of a bird…and your talk of magic don’t scare me either.’
Goth nodded. ‘Still, show caution. Do you accept?’
The sailor glanced at his men who nodded enthusiastically. ‘Well, if I’m to share my name, I’ll know yours too.’
‘But you already do, my friend. I am Almyd Goth, former chief inquisitor of Tallinor and now outlaw in this Kingdom. However, I have since become the close and trusted adviser of the Ciprean monarch and I am here on secret business for my royal.’
Goth was the only one amongst them who was impressed by this speech.
‘Money alone talks, Goth,’ Nord replied.
‘And it will talk heartily to you, my friend.’ He held out his hand to shake on the deal with a questioning look on his face.
The man took his hand. ‘The name’s Nord Jesper.’
Cloot reported back all that he had learned, and wished he and Tor were together.
Why does that name ring a bell?
One of the sailors on The Wasp? Cloot prompted.
No. But it’s so familiar. I shall have t
o think on it.
How are Alyssa and Saxon?
Sleeping, intermittently shivering and then come the sweats. It’s for the best. At least I know their bodies are fighting back.
Any plan?
Tor laughed. You always hate my plans!
True, the falcon said sagely, but I also always go along with them.
I’ve spoken with Gidyon and he says he will have the stone shortly. He, Figgis and Themesius are leaving tonight, headed back east towards us. I’m hoping he can reach Alyssa and Saxon in the next two days.
So it’s safe to leave them alone?
I’d prefer not to but they have each other and we all have the Link. I will not let Goth get away again. What about you?
Fine. Cold. Wishing for my Forest.
Have you eaten?
No!
Grumpy, then?
Very. They’re all drifting off to sleep now. I don’t think we’ll hear much from them until just before dawn.
Good. Go hunt.
Tor felt the Link close and stared into the flames. The name of Nord Jesper continued to niggle at him but experience told him to let it alone and it would come back to him of its own accord. He checked his patients. Both were now sleeping soundly after their latest cup of his special brew, which he kept simmering gently over the fire. Good, the rest now would do all the healing.
He sat back and thought about Orlac. His brother. The moment Alyssa uttered her thoughts, he knew it was true. So he too was a prince of the gods and had been sacrificed to Tallinor in order to murder his brother…and now Dorgryl, who lived within Orlac. He shook his head; he had not shared this information with Alyssa. She was already suffering shock from the discovery of him being alive and the children’s sudden arrival in her life, as well as despair at the death of Lorys. Yet still she moved forward doggedly, determined to see through her part in all of this. Learning of Lauryn’s capture had been another blow, making her more fearful than Tor had ever seen her. To top that with the news that Orlac had been possessed by another god, one even madder and more vengeful, could break Alyssa’s battered spirit. No, it was best that he withheld this information, whatever the consequences.
And what of the Trinity? Were they up to this new and terrifying challenge? How would they know what to do? Most importantly of all…what was their purpose? He turned these questions over and over in his tired mind, finally deciding that he should not look too far ahead. Deal with the immediate problem, he told himself. Follow the plan. Finish Goth. Then back to the Heartwood to finish Orlac.
His mind turned to Goth. How he hated the man. How many lives had been lost through him? And inevitably his thoughts fell sorrowfully upon Eryn and the permanent mental picture he carried of the lovely young woman hung upside down and left to die in such a barbaric way. Even Orlac had more capacity to kill humanely, he thought. In a way he was glad Quist had died too for he felt sure the man’s life would have been ruined anyway without his great love. He hoped the pirate never learned of Eryn’s death but it was unlikely Goth would not have taken the opportunity to torture Quist with the gory details before killing him.
Tor thought about Eryn’s brief, sad life. She seemed to have lived it to the fullest and yet he had sensed a grief in her at their last two meetings. At a superficial level it was her ongoing disappointment that she and Tor might never be more than hidden lovers, great friends. But he decided it had been more than that. Eryn had not recovered from the death of Petyr. He knew she prided herself on having taken care of her brothers, ferociously protecting and raising them from tiny lads when she herself was hardly more than a slip of a girl. But it was Petyr who had broken her heart, he knew. Finding him dead as she had, unable to reach or help him, had scarred her permanently.
It made Tor angry. And then it hit him. Nord Jesper!
Nord Jesper! he cried, slashing open the Link and alarming Cloot who was feasting.
Yes, that’s his name, the falcon said calmly.
Cloot, that’s the name of the sailor who beat Eryn’s brother, Petyr, leaving him half-dead. Petyr never recovered, ran away from Eryn and Locky and ended up in a stracca den in Caradoon. She found him there, dead. She was just hours too late. Tor’s voice broke on his last words.
All right, Tor. I hear you. You’ll have your revenge, I promise. They still sleep. They’re going nowhere.
I’ll avenge Petyr for Eryn. It’s what she wanted.
Get some rest, Cloot cautioned. We’ll talk in the morning when you can think clearly.
More wise words from his friend. Tor said a brief farewell and closed the Link.
He curled up next to Alyssa, careful not to disturb her, and tried not to think about Lauryn and her fear of Orlac. Instead he imagined Goth and Nord Jesper at his mercy.
24
Surprises
Juno came reluctantly for Lauryn. Adongo followed her in.
‘What does he want?’ Lauryn said fearfully.
Juno glanced towards Adongo. Something may have passed between them —she did not hear—but Lauryn stared, frightened, regarding them both. She knew instinctively that they were trying to weigh up whether to tell her the truth.
‘He wishes for you to spend the night with him.’ Juno, at Adongo’s bidding, chose honesty.
A series of shocks trembled through Lauryn’s body, culminating in dizziness. Within two strides Adongo was holding her. She sat down heavily.
‘You must be brave now, Miss Lauryn,’ he said. If you go to him willingly, he will not hurt you.
Lauryn heard voices in her head and a buzzing in her ears. Her legs would surely not even support her weight now. She began to shake her head. ‘I’m not ready for this. Surely you won’t ask this of me?’
Juno winced at the pain in her bonded one’s voice. We must child. ‘Don’t fight this. He has chosen you above all others,’ she said, hating herself.
Lauryn’s whole body was trembling now as Adongo left the room and Juno first undressed and then re-clothed her in a white gown in the simple, yet beautiful, Ciprean styling. Lauryn had withdrawn mentally, overwhelmed with panic at the thought that she was about to lose herself to Orlac—the very enemy they had been born to destroy. Her father’s brother would rape her. She remained within herself, tears silently coursing down her face as Juno gently hummed a soft tune, hoping to soothe the girl. She brushed and dressed her hair with fresh white, fragrant flowers.
I must speak with my father, Lauryn announced, returning to the scene around her.
Please, child, I beg of you. Do not risk casting. The cursed one may be listening. You may jeopardise all our lives. I care not for mine but you must survive this trial and soon we will destroy him.
I can’t, Juno.
Juno stood behind Lauryn, both of them staring into the mirror. She pretended a bright voice for any eavesdroppers. ‘You are very beautiful, Miss Lauryn.’
Don’t make me do this.
We have no choice. We must get through it so we can live another day to fight the final battle. ‘Would you prefer the antler or tortoiseshell clasp?’
Lauryn refused to answer. I will fight him. He will hurt me and I will blame you and Adongo, my Paladin, who are supposed to give their lives for me.
It was an unfair stab but Juno accepted it for she knew she must. The child was terrified and rightly so. She chose the tortoiseshell.
Adongo entered. ‘It is time, Miss Lauryn.’
I hate you both! she said, masking intense feelings behind a face devoid of all expression now.
We love you, they said together. And we will avenge this.
Lauryn looked between them; knew well they were hurting but did not care. She could not cry any more but she was not able to stop her body trembling. It was no longer fear, it was anger. Inside, something snapped into place in her mind and she found a calm, the foundation of which was pure, white rage like lava overflowing into her body. Lauryn stood.
‘Let’s get this done with.’
She walked steadily b
etween them, refusing the Link they attempted several times to open. Lauryn had shielded herself so completely, not even they could reach her. She would not contact her father, nor would she allow him to witness this terrible event. As they climbed the marble staircase in silence, Lauryn began to reinforce her mental, magical walls about herself. He could do what he would with her body but he would not touch her mind. She would not permit him access to a Link. She was strong enough to withstand his mind probes and she would deny him what he would know was her true self. It was only via the Link that he could truly possess her. She would refuse him. I can be anyone, she reassured herself. I could be Xantia for all it would matter. Or a corpse. She finally decided on the latter as it best described how she would behave.
When they arrived and were permitted into the salon, her Paladin tried once again to offer some encouragement but she rebuffed them with a cold stare. And when she was asked to enter by Orlac’s servant, she stopped when they moved to go with her. Lauryn held her hand up, her face hard and unyielding. It was clear she wished to enter his chambers alone. She permitted the servant to open the door and as she glided in with the air of detachment she had finally achieved, she gave one last sad thought to Gyl.
It should be him, she wished, not allowing herself to cry over it.
Night’s dark mantle had closed around evening. Orlac had dismissed all servants. The last of them showed her out onto the balcony and then left. Lauryn’s superior hearing noted the door close. She was alone with her torturer. He stood at the furthest end of the balcony with his back to her. He was strikingly dressed in a loose white shirt over white breeches. His long black boots accentuated his height and the long lean lines of his body. She did not move and in that moment of watching him, anticipating him, she realised she was terrified.
Finally he turned. His long, golden hair had been combed back and tied into a single club. His skin looked bronzed and polished.
‘Thank you for coming.’
‘Did I have a choice?’ She tried to sound strong in her words but her fear betrayed her and they came out sounding nervous.
He did not answer but flashed her an almost shy smile. He approached but did not touch her. Instead, she was surprised to see him bow before her. ‘Not really but it doesn’t spoil my pleasure at seeing you. Lauryn, you are more beautiful than I’ve even imagined in my thoughts.’
Destiny Page 31
