The elder lifted his hand as if taking an oath. “I swear on my life.”
Nodding slowly, the monk leaned against the table. “These other wizards, what do they say now? Have their lands come out of the darkness as we have?”
A ripple of sorrow emanated from Oren and Marc saw his eyes mist up. “Sadly, many of them fell silent in the first year. I fear the cold or hunger took them from us.”
Marc saw several flashes of violent mobs attacking persons he knew to be fellow wizards. Shocked, he wondered if this knowledge came from Oren, or that mysterious something else which seemed to place whole thoughts into his mind as if they had been there all along.
“Or the hands of murderers,” Marc muttered.
“That as well,” Oren said with a grimace. “But those who remain have reported the sun has returned.”
“Thank God. I am sorry for your brethren.”
Oren nodded his acceptance of Gildas’ condolence. “Marc and Valeria are the future of those who serve magic. They will help many people overcome the hardships of life.” As Oren looked at them, Marc felt Valeria’s hand seek his, her thumb tenderly rubbing against his palm. Seeing that, the wizard smiled and returned his attention to Gildas. “I know you have a dim view of mankind and think that evil is everywhere. In my many years on this earth I, too, have seen all kinds of evil wrought by the hand of man. But I have also seen far more good. People are always helping one another, generously sharing what they have, willing to put themselves at risk to save their neighbor. The light of brotherly love pierces the blackness of evil.”
“I pray you are right.”
“I, too,” Sean added.
Marc agreed as well. He glanced over at Valeria to see her reaction but found her staring blankly into space.
“Val?”
She did not respond and her hand felt cooler than it had a moment before.
“Are you having a vision?”
He probed her mind but felt nothing—no thoughts, emotions, or anything else. She glowed with strong magic, yet it seemed as if her spirit were elsewhere.
“Val?”
Slowly, she turned her head toward him, her eyes vacant, unfocused. He touched her cheek and her arms sprang closed around him, squeezing hard.
“No! No, Marc! Please no!” An immense wave of fear flowed from her.
“What is it, Val? What’s wrong?” Her grip relaxed as she began to sob. “Tell me what frightens you so.” She shook her head as other emotions spilled out—anger, frustration, loss. “Was it a vision?” After a pause, she nodded, avoiding his gaze. “Was I in it?” She nodded again. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No.” Biting her lip, she said nothing more.
What could be so terrible that she would act this way? His own fear began to match hers. “Then what is it?”
She looked at him in anguish, her reddened eyes flooded with tears. “I saw you die.”
Chapter 19
“What?” Marc heard Valeria clearly enough—what she said was just too much to accept at the moment.
Oren leaned forward, his lips pulled into two thin lines. “Tell us of your vision, Valeria.”
Wiping the tears from her eyes, she glanced nervously at Marc before answering their master. “There is someone who desperately wants to kill Marc. He... he burns with the need to do so. At first he will fail, taking another’s life instead.”
“Who wants to kill me?” Marc asked quickly, desperate for the truth. “And who will die?”
Her shoulders slumping in despair, Valeria slowly shook her head. “I do not know.”
The master placed a hand gently on hers. “I, also, have had this vision. Marc should survive the attack.”
“The first one, yes.” Trembling, she stared at the fire. “But not the second.”
Oren stiffened. “A second attack? I have never foreseen it. Tell me more.”
Sensing her rising anxiety, Marc took her hand between his and looked into her eyes, concerned more for her wellbeing than his own. “Easy, Val. Tell us what you can.”
Gripping his fingers tightly, she forced out her next words in a quiet, even voice. “A great evil stalks you, my love. It hates everything you are and can be. It is filled with violence, deceit and a terrible anger.” Her tearful gaze swung to his. “It waits for you to challenge it.”
He swallowed hard. “Challenge it?”
She nodded. “Only one will survive. It is crafty, hiding its weapons away. No one knows its true strength until too late.” Leaning against him, she rested her head upon his shoulder.
Marc looked toward Oren. “You said I had a future, that my heirs would fight a great battle of good and evil. How can that happen if I die?”
“Future visions can change. Valeria may also see what will happen many years from now.” Marc had never seen Oren appear so worried.
“No,” Valeria said, firmly. “It will be soon. Of that I am certain.”
Marc’s heart leapt; her visions were often true. “Master?” he asked, nearly pleading.
Oren nervously rubbed a hand over his mouth. “Are you certain he dies? In your earlier visions—”
Valeria cut him off with a harsh shake of her head, her tone even more forceful, assured. “I saw it clearly. Caught off guard, Marc is struck with a dagger thrown from behind. It... it pierces his heart and he dies.” Her strength melted away and she began sobbing once more.
Cradling her in his arms, Marc found this hard to accept. While he did not fear death, he hoped to live for many years before that day came. “Master, now that we are forewarned, is there any way to change what her vision reveals?”
“Possibly. Valeria and I see conflicting futures, much like you and I discussed earlier this afternoon.” Oren gently put his hand on Valeria’s head. “Do not mourn him yet. While your vision is powerful and seems to be true, it may not come to pass. Other events may alter what will be.”
She sniffed back her tears. “I pray that is so.” Kissing her forehead, Marc silently agreed.
They all remained quiet for the better part of a minute before Sean asked, “How may I help?”
“Do as Valeria,” Gildas said. “Pray hard and often. Our Lord hears those whose supplications are humble and true.”
“I shall. I’ll urge the entire village to do so.” Sean turned to his host. “Ask anything of me, Oren. I will do whatever it takes to see that Marc is safe.”
For a moment, the master regarded Sean with a look of deep respect. Bowing his head, he said, “You are indeed Marc’s truest friend.” Visibly calmer, Oren faced his two students. “Marc. Valeria. Be at peace, for what will be is in the Creator’s hands. Do you not agree, Brother Gildas?”
“Yes. We must trust His plan will benefit all.”
With a deep sigh, Oren stood. “It is probably best we all retire for the night.”
The mood now spoiled, the others took the master’s advice. After they bid each other well, Valeria took to her room and Marc gave Sean his sleep chamber, returning to the workshop to bed down. Unable to let go of Valeria’s vision, he found it difficult to sleep. Would he really die soon? Could it be prevented somehow? Marc began praying for guidance when he heard the hushed scrape of the door opening, followed by bare feet padding toward him across the stone floor. Valeria knelt by him in the dark and the pleasant scent of lilac met his nose.
“I see you are still awake.” Her voice trembled slightly.
“Who could sleep after hearing they were going to die?” His attempt at humor had the opposite effect, eliciting a moment of pain from her. “Sorry, Val. I didn’t mean to—”
“Come.” Taking his hand, she led him to her chamber, climbed onto her bed and pulled him after her. “Lay next to me,” she whispered.
He did, lying on his left side, with her clinging to his back. Wondering what her intentions were, he probed her mind and felt sadness mixed with guilt and regret, but more than balanced by a rich and bottomless love.
She gently kissed the ba
ck of his neck. “Forgive me.” Her touch filled him with a warm sense of peace.
“For what?”
“Hurting you.”
“You did nothing to hurt me.”
“If I hadn’t had my vision, you would not be worried now.” Her arm slid beneath his tunic, tenderly holding his chest.
“And I would not know what might happen. But now I have a chance to prepare, to quite possibly prevent that future. Maybe that was the purpose of the vision. I cannot thank you enough.”
A surge of relief came from her as she held him tighter. “I love you so much. It would be terribly cruel if you were taken from me so soon. You are the man the magic has chosen for me.”
“I love you, too, Val. I want nothing more than to grow old with you.”
“But what if we can’t?” Her renewed despair edged close to panic. “Oren foresaw us having heirs. That means we have to have children—at least one.” She rolled away from him and pushed his tunic up until it lay bunched around his shoulders. Rolling back, she clung to him once more. The soft heat of her bare breasts against his skin startled Marc. “Make love to me, Marc. Give me our child now before anything can happen to you.”
Lightheadedness washed over him; the press of her flesh against his so wonderfully intoxicating. “Val, I—”
“I know. I’m being too forward, but what else can I do? In our hearts we know we are already married. Be my husband now. Gildas can marry us in the morn, but be my husband now.”
Marc had dreamt of this moment for years, and now that it was here, he did not know what to do. Turning over, he jerked his tunic the rest of the way off and began kissing her, lightly at first. Moaning with pleasure, she eagerly returned his attentions, running her hands all over his back. As their passions rose within them, the same calming inner voice he had heard before called to him. He tried to ignore it, but it persisted, gaining further hold by the second and soon managed to push aside all other thoughts. With a sigh of frustration, he let go of her and rolled onto his back.
“We can’t.”
Rising to rest upon an elbow, she looked at him in the dim light. “I don’t understand.” He clearly heard disappointment and confusion in her voice.
“We’re about to make love for the wrong reason. You love me, yes, but your heart is also filled with fear and desperation.”
She gently caressed his cheek. “Your love will make them depart.”
“My physical love can’t, but I know what will.”
Holding her close, he merged their spirits as before, letting the inner voice talk to her as well. He knew her fear and panic had opened a raw, gaping wound in her soul. Letting his love flood over her, he gradually closed up that wound and washed away her pain.
After a time her mind quieted, her breathing became slow and regular. Even though she slept, the love she felt for him permeated her being, comforting him. He vowed to do whatever it took to change the outcome of her vision, if for nothing more than to give her peace of mind.
— o O o —
Valeria found herself walking in a dense forest. While it seemed familiar, she could not identify the place. Beneath her feet, a thick carpet of leaves and humus yielded with every step. An intense, deep-blue sky spread out above her, the hue more vibrant than she had ever seen. A warm, gentle breeze spiced with the scent of flowers and trees played lightly against her bare skin. Bare skin? A quick glance down told her she was indeed nude. While unsure of the reason for her lack of dress, her state did not bother her at the moment. Looking about, she saw no one else within view, but did notice something that caught her absolute attention. To the south, through a gap in the trees, the distant sky boiled with a mass of black storm clouds. This she recognized.
Alarmed and feeling quite vulnerable, she took several steps back, bumping into a tree whereupon one of its branches quickly wrapped around her waist. Grasping the limb, she found it soft and warm—very un-branch-like. Smiling to herself, she realized this was a dream or vision. Could she end this now or did it have to play out? If she were dreaming, then she must be asleep somewhere—her bed most likely. Concentrating, she remembered bringing Marc to her bed and how his magic calmed her. She looked down at the branch around her waist. What could it represent? Of course, Marc’s arm. Placing both hands on the branch, she directed her mind to wake up. Immediately her world began to fade. The sky dimmed out, objects around her melted away, vanishing into the emptiness. When everything about her had gone, Valeria opened her eyes.
Early morning light streamed horizontally through the window glass and cast its orange fire upon the far wall. Marc lay sleeping behind her, his arm curved protectively around her middle, his breath hot upon her shoulder. Having him cuddled next to her felt incredibly right. The warm strength of his body conveyed a sense of safety. And the magic! Oh, yes, the magic coming from him was tremendous. She felt privileged to hear its call, to share it with the one she loved.
The memories of last night surfaced anew, her vision of seeing him die. The pain of it had gone somehow, cleansed because of his love for her and the thing he called his inner voice. She instinctively knew the voice did not come from inside Marc, but elsewhere. It had an immense power beyond that of magic, or at least what she knew of magic. Whatever it might be, it changed and strengthened her. For that she gave thanks.
Low, muffled voices carried through the wall; the others were awake and moving about. Turning onto her other side, she faced Marc, kissing him on the mouth. A moment passed before his eyelids fluttered briefly, then opened. His lips curled into a lazy smile.
“Good morning.” His fingers gently caressed the skin of her back, sending little sparks of pleasure throughout her body. “How are you feeling?”
Valeria returned the massage. “Wonderful. Thank you for easing my pain last night.” She snuggled closer. “I love you so much. I wish we could stay here all day.” The light in his eyes told her he agreed. “But it’s time to begin the day.”
“Yes, Sean will be leaving soon.” Marc’s gaze drifted down her body. His appreciative smile pleased her. “I should leave so you may dress.”
“If you must.” She wanted to bring up marriage once more but decided the time was not right.
“I must, but before I go, I want to tell you of a special dream I had last night. A dream, or possibly a vision.”
“A vision?” He had had small visions before, mostly of her. She studied his face for any clue. “Was I in it?”
“You alone. I saw our wedding day—well, part of it.”
Wedding day. Those two words sent a rush of excitement through her. “Tell me!”
His eyes sparkled with mischief. “I saw you in the dress you made for our wedding.”
Her heart leapt within her. “What dress?”
His smile, while warm, had a bit of smugness about it. “The pale green one with the lace and embroidered flowers on it. You’ve kept it secret all this time. Even your mother doesn’t know you’ve been working on it. I saw you wearing it, standing before me, your hair in braids. I’ve never seen you look more beautiful, Val.”
Joy overcame her as his hand caressed her cheek. “Marc—” That same hand placed a finger across her lips.
“I know that day will come. That is why we can wait.” He kissed her briefly, then rose. For a moment, he towered over her, watching. Bending, he picked up his tunic, smiled in an impish manner, then yanked the blanket off of her, revealing all to his view. With an affectionate laugh, he dropped the blanket on her and left.
Rolling onto her back, she threw up her arms and kicked her legs with glee, sending the blanket flying. Marc had seen their wedding, and she knew his vision was true. How fitting he had learned of the dress that way; the magic knew all along he was to be hers. She did not, though. Hoped, yes, and prayed as well. Her heart had been filled with him as far back as she could remember. And the dress was a manifestation of her heart’s desire. Each stitch placed with him in mind, that he would be the one for which she would w
ear it. A cry of happiness escaped her lips.
Waiting would be easy.
— o O o —
The morning proved pleasant enough. While no one brought up the topic of last night’s disturbing vision, Valeria sensed an undercurrent of tension, especially from Sean. The banter over breakfast dealt with light topics—when the crops would come in, what their yield might be, preparations for winter. Valeria even read some of her poetry. Sean seemed to like it.
After the meal, Sean knelt by the fireplace, gathering his things to leave. “Thank you for welcoming me into your home, Oren. I know what a rare honor it is.”
The master bowed slightly. “You are always welcome here.” He started for the workshop. “Do not leave yet. I have something for you.”
Sean glanced questioningly at Marc, then her. They both shrugged and shook their heads.
Gildas took advantage of the silence. “May the Lord grant you a safe journey home, Sean.”
“Thank you.” He looked thoughtfully at the monk for a moment. “Why don’t you come with me to Oak Creek? Tomorrow’s the Sabbath and it would be good to have you lead our services. I know you would be most welcome.”
Gildas’ face perked up. “That would please me very much. However, I do not know if Oren will permit me to leave.” He turned toward her and Marc and winked. “It seems I am to stay here a while longer.”
The rustle of hides caused Valeria to look behind her. Oren returned with something clenched in his fist.
“Sabbath in the village? By all means, Brother. The walk is not overly far and fairly level, so you will not become weakened. Return in two days time.” The master nodded at Marc and Sean. “Face each other.”
They complied, standing several feet apart. Oren opened his hand and an oval stone the size of a thumb tumbled out, jerking to a stop by a lace threaded through one end of it. Nearly clear, the stone had a faint, milky-green vein meandering through its center that reminded Valeria of rising smoke on a windless afternoon. The well-polished surface reflected the flames of the nearby fire.
Haunted Tree (The Magus Family Chronicles Book 1) Page 22
