Divine by Mistake

by P. C. Cast

  Having filled the praise square, my mind was happily contemplating the reward category, when he gave my calf a firm slap—which snapped me out of my decidedly R-rated daydream.

  “I think you will have better luck walking now.” He lifted me off my branch and stood me next to him. He was right; my feet did work better now. But for an instant I considered pretending otherwise.

  “Right you are. But before I put those boots back on, do we have time for me to soak my feet in the stream?”

  “Just a short time, Rhiannon. I want to be certain we are within sight of MacCallan Castle before the sun sets today.”

  “Will we be there that soon?” Knowledge of what we would find at the castle settled heavily in the pit of my stomach.

  “You could stay here and let me take care of what needs to be done at the castle.” His voice was gentle.

  “Thank you, but no. He is my father. It’s my responsibility, and I have to see for myself what happened to him.”

  “I understand and I will be there with you.” He reached out slowly, almost reluctantly, and took my hand.

  I realized suddenly that he probably didn’t want to like me. For all he knew, any second I was going to turn back into a bitchy slut who didn’t have any intention of caring anything about him, and who never wanted this marriage—temporary or not. The kindness he continued to show me was a testament to the depth of integrity he must possess. His reaching out to me must have been an amazingly difficult thing for him to do.

  So I gave him my best “good boy! good boy!” smile and squeezed his hand.

  “I’m glad you’ll be with me. But now I need some privacy to, well, you know.”

  He smiled and squeezed my hand in return before dropping it and heading to the stream to join the rest of the centaurs. “I will be close by if you need me.”

  “I’m so sure I’d rather die first…” I muttered as I tramped delicately off to find a nearby bush, being careful not to step my bare feet in any stickers. At least the hunk of cheese seemed to have stopped me up—which was truly a blessing.

  Joining the boys back at the stream, I crouched and drank deeply of the clear, icy water, washing my face and running wet fingers through my hair in an attempt to tame my wild curls. Plopping my butt on the dry bank, I let the water run over and around my feet while I tried to do something with my hair.

  “Allow me, my Lady.” I looked over my shoulder to see ClanFintan kneeling behind me with a piece of leather in one hand and a wide-toothed comb in another. I recognized the leather as one like the thong that held his thick mane (well, what would you call it?) of hair back out of the way. Before I could respond, he had pulled free what remained of Alanna’s French braid and was working the comb through my wild red tangles. I sighed happily and closed my eyes. In far too short a time he had it tied neatly back. “That should stay out of your way.”

  I managed to moan some semblance of thanks.

  “You had better let your feet dry before trying to get those boots back on. We will need to get moving again soon.” His voice was apologetic and his hands rested briefly on my shoulders before he stood.

  “Okay. I’ll be ready.” I moved away from the stream, drying my feet in the tall grass surrounding the road.

  One of the centaurs, an attractive young strawberry roan, approached me, and with a shy smile offered me something that looked and smelled like beef jerky.

  “Thank you.” I beamed my appreciation for his not being a herbivore.

  “You are welcome, my Lady.” He blushed sweetly before joining his buddies, who were forming up and getting ready to head out again.

  I stuck the end of the jerky in my mouth and pulled on my boots, then hobbled over to where ClanFintan stood waiting. He, too, was munching on a piece of jerky while he tightened the cinch and made sure the saddle was ready for my butt.

  “Okay, I’m ready.” I reached out for him and we clasped arms. I was up and seated in less time than it takes to spell equestrian.

  “Make it so.” I pointed forward, giving my best Picard impression. I giggled at my own joke. ClanFintan snorted and shook his head at me before he accelerated into his smooth, distance-covering gallop. I guess my humor loses something in translation.

  The rest of the day followed much of the same schedule. We would travel until I felt as if my feet were no longer attached to my body and/or I had to pee again. I would clue in ClanFintan to my desire to take a break. We would halt for what seemed like ten seconds, but was probably about ten minutes. I’d get a brief foot rub so that my legs would function, then we would take off again, chewing on a seemingly inexhaustible supply of jerky.

  Other than a thin sheen of sweat, the centaurs didn’t show any signs of tiring. My own exhaustion made me feel like a sissy, and I struggled against the desire to whine. But I figured whining was something that Rhiannon probably would have done—which helped me keep my mouth shut.

  By the time I realized we hadn’t seen any other travelers in quite a while, I also noticed the sun was beginning to dip toward the horizon. Taking a deep breath of the cooling air, I smelled the distinct scent of salt and water. To our right I could see that in the distance the vineyards had given way to forested land and realized that we must be approaching the castle from the eastern edge.

  “We’re almost there.” My voice sounded a lot calmer than I felt.

  “Yes.” His pace slowed to a gentle trot. “You said the creatures came through the northeastern part of the forest?”

  “Yes.” My voice was a whisper as memory replayed the forest scene in my mind.

  “Then we will circle around and enter from the southwest. If they are still in the castle, perhaps the glare of the setting sun will help to hide our approach.”

  Sounded like bull to me, but since English teachers aren’t traditionally known for their great battle strategies, I decided to keep my comments to myself.

  ClanFintan made a motion to the centaurs and they followed him off the trail as we began moving into the setting sun. I could feel his muscles bunching and working and I realized the gradual incline of the land had increased and was now rising noticeably as we climbed up toward the edge of the southern tree line. The smell of salt was heavy in the afternoon air and I could hear the sea rushing against the rocky shore. The centaurs’ hooves made crackling noises as they galloped over needle-covered ground. The silent oaks and maples gave way to whispering pines, and I was surprised to recognize the tart scent of Christmas trees mixed with the salty breeze, and something else. It was a smell I couldn’t place. An odd fragrance, indistinct and sticky. And then we slid to a halt as the trees changed to rocks, which led to an abrupt drop to the ocean. This was one thing I definitely hadn’t exaggerated from my dream vision—it still reminded me of Ireland’s imposing Cliffs of Moher. The coast stretched before us as far as we could see, and in the north the castle perched like a stone guardian, perilously close to the deep drop.

  The sun lit up the western façade of the castle, turning the gray stone to bright, gleaming silver. My breath caught in my throat and I felt a sudden, unexpected rush of emotion. If I had been born into this world this amazing castle would have been where I had grown up. I blinked my eyes hard and told myself it was the briskness of the wind that caused them to fill with water.

  “My Lord, look there on the grounds surrounding the wall.” The palomino’s voice was grim and he pointed to the area surrounding the western gate. I squinted and followed the line of his finger. There were clumps of debris scattered around the outside of the castle, as if field hands had piled sacks of grain or maybe bales of hay or—

  “Oh, God. They’re bodies.” My voice shook and I understood what the nameless smell was.

  “Dougal, check for any movement.” The palomino nodded and melted back into the trees.

  “Connor, join him.” The strawberry roan backed into the pines and was gone.

  Then ClanFintan addressed me over his shoulder. “Rhiannon, you said that that night you f
elt you were in the presence of evil before you actually saw the creatures. Are you sensing any evil now?”

  I stared at the castle and tried to still the pounding of my heart.

  “No, I don’t feel anything like I did that night.”

  “Are you certain, my Lady?”

  I closed my eyes and concentrated, forcing myself to remember that night, to remember the tangible evil that had seeped out of the forest and slithered into the castle like a poisonous mist.

  “I’m certain. The feeling is unmistakable, and it is definitely not here now.” My hands were still resting on his shoulders and he reached up and gave one of them a quick squeeze.

  “Good.” Then he turned to face Dougal and Connor as they rejoined us. “Report.”

  “Except for the carrion birds, there is no movement. And we could detect no sign or scent of fire.” Dougal’s voice was businesslike and calm.

  “Lady Rhiannon can sense nothing of the creatures’ presence. I believe it is safe to enter the castle.” Then he addressed me again. “My Lady, you do not have to come into the castle. If you wait here, I will bring you word of your father. You can trust me to care for his remains with the honor he deserves.”

  “I do trust you, it’s not that. I just…I just have to do this.” My mouth felt incredibly dry. “It won’t be real for me until I see for myself.”

  He nodded slowly and I felt him sigh. “Very well, we go. All of us. Centaurs, stay close. Be alert.”

  ClanFintan began trotting toward the castle, four centaurs on either side of him. I held his shoulders tightly and kept playing the words you can do this you can do this you can do this over and over in my mind.

  As we approached the castle, the wind began to carry more of the sticky smell to us. At first it was just a teasing sourness, like when you open the door to the refrigerator and something doesn’t smell quite right. Then the teasing changed. The smell hung in the air and surrounded us. I gagged and suddenly my dry mouth was flooded with bile.

  “Try to breathe through your mouth. It helps.” ClanFintan’s voice was sympathetic. I wondered how he knew so much about the way death smelled. “Where did you say you last saw your father in your vision?”

  “At the foot of the stairs that led to the barracks.”

  He stopped and his guard halted with us. “Rhiannon, let me look at the corpses. I will recognize your father and tell you when we have found him. You just hold tight. Close your eyes if you need to.”

  “I’ll be okay. Let’s get this over with.” I tried to sound brave, but my voice was weak and shaky.

  We started forward again. Soon we came to the first of the bodies. As we approached, dark birds lifted in a flurry of wings. I made myself look away from what they held in their pointed beaks. The bodies were clumped together, several in one area, then a few yards away several more. Amidst the horror it was somehow comforting that they weren’t alone. I tried not to look at them, but my eyes wouldn’t obey my mind—or maybe they obeyed my heart instead. It ached for these brave men and I felt that if I looked at them, acknowledged their sacrifice by keeping a visual reckoning rather than looking away, maybe their lingering souls would feel my respect and appreciation for their heroism and be comforted.

  I glanced at the centaurs that walked at our side. Their faces were set in expressionless masks I tried to emulate. They checked each man, meticulously making sure none lived. We moved slowly around the southern wall to the front entrance of the castle. The huge iron doors were open; silent bodies and feeding birds littered the entryway.

  “To the barracks.” ClanFintan’s emotionless voice echoed eerily off the dead walls as we walked through the gates, then passed through a smaller, arched inner-wall entrance, which led into a huge courtyard.

  It was like a scene from a Dali nightmare painting. Men lay in dark, congealed pools, their bodies twisted and frozen at grotesque angles. But in spite of the carnage, I glimpsed snatches of lingering beauty in the thick, graceful columns that lined the courtyard and the fountain that still bubbled musically with oily reddened water. Something about that fountain held my gaze, and I realized with a sense of detached shock that the marble girl who was pouring water from a beautifully painted urn was a young version of myself. And the urn. That damn pot. It depicted a familiar scene, now tinged pink by the scarlet of the water. The seated priestess had her back to me, with her red-gold hair and her outstretched arm visible as she accepted homage from her supplicants. I knew if I looked closer I would see a scar on her hand, the same scar that suddenly blurred as I looked down at my own hand…

  “Rhiannon!” ClanFintan swiveled at the waist and caught me before I could fall.

  “I can do this I can do this I can do this.” My body was shaking.

  “Shall I take you out of here?”

  “No! I can’t quit now. Just give me a second.” I recovered my balance and straightened my spine. ClanFintan hesitantly let loose his grip on my arm. “Let’s find him.”

  He grunted a wordless reply and moved off to the left. The other centaurs slowly followed us, meticulously completing their gruesome task of checking each body. We walked between pillars and through a wide, breezy hallway lined with doors and large floor-to-ceiling windows. The centaurs’ hooves clicked on the stone floor. That and the birds were the only sounds I could hear over the beating of my heart. ClanFintan moved purposefully through the hallway past a room that was furnished with long wooden tables and the bodies of men, turned to his left again and walked through another door, which led to a much smaller interior courtyard. This courtyard had several entrances, one of which was a steep flight of stone stairs that led up to a large, low room connected to the roof of the castle and its balustraded walls. The barracks the men had poured from that dreadful night.

  Even if I hadn’t recognized it from my midnight visit, the half-dressed bodies that littered the stairs and the yard before us gave testament to where we were. And in the far corner, near the bottom of the stairs, was a single body. This man was not joined in death by a comrade who died protecting his back. He slept alone in a bed of his own blood. The circled area around him was empty.

  “He’s over there.” I pointed to the lone body and was surprised that my hand did not shake.

  ClanFintan nodded in acknowledgment and walked to where I pointed.

  It was my father. He lay on his back with his torso twisted toward the ground. His left arm was beneath him, his right one was shredded and his wrist bone jutted through the dangling skin, but it still clutched his sword. His kilt was black and stiff with the blood that pooled beneath and around him. His kilt was torn and it did nothing to hide the deep gouges in his back and chest. I could see that he had been disemboweled. I tore my eyes away from his gaping wounds and my gaze found his face. It rested on the ground, half turned away from me. His eyes were closed and already death had sunken them and heightened the ridge of his cheekbones. His skin was rigid-looking and had the pale grayness of death, but his lips weren’t contorted and tortured. Instead, his shadowed face looked at peace, restful, as if he had finished a difficult job and lay down for a well-earned sleep.

  “Why did he die here alone?” ClanFintan’s voice mirrored my sorrow.

  “He wasn’t alone. The men fought all around him, but he was still fighting after they had been killed.” I remembered his heroism as he challenged the creatures. “He took many of those things with him—that’s why he’s over here with a ring around him empty of everything except blood—their blood. They must have carried off their dead.”

  “Can I take you out of here now?”

  “Yes.” And suddenly I knew what must be done. “Burn them.” ClanFintan looked over his shoulder at me. “Build a giant pyre in the courtyard and burn them all. Cleanse this place with fire.” I smiled sadly at what remained of the man who had been a mirror image of my father and whispered, “Set them free.”

  “It will be as you say, Rhiannon.”

  ClanFintan bowed once to my father’
s still form, then turned and headed quickly for the front of the castle. I kept him in view for as long as I was able. I barely heard the commands ClanFintan gave the centaurs that would carry out my wishes. I was looking for a last time at the men around me—acknowledging each death in my mind, wanting to remember each act of bravery…

  Then the thought hit me and the breath rushed from my body. ClanFintan twisted around, thinking I was falling again. I clasped his arm and looked intently into his eyes.

  “The women! Where are the bodies of the women?” I thought I was yelling, but my voice sounded like a choked whisper.

  He froze.

  “Dougal!” The palomino centaur appeared quickly, his face pale—his eyes shadowed.

  “Have you found any women’s bodies?”

  Dougal blinked in confusion, then his eyes widened in understanding.

  “No. I have seen no women or girls. Only men and boy children.”

  “Call the others. Search for them. I am going to take Lady Rhiannon out of here. Come report to me at the place where we first left the pines.”

  Dougal spun away and began calling for the other centaurs.

  “Hold tightly to me.”

  I reached forward and wrapped my arms around his body, burying my face in the back of his shoulder and breathing deeply, letting his warm, heady scent block out the cloying smell of death. I shut my eyes and felt his muscles bunch and release, bunch and release. The wind whistled past us and I knew each long stride was taking us farther away from the dead. When we reached the forest’s edge he came to a smooth halt. He put his arms over mine where they crossed his chest. Neither of us spoke.

  Finally, I was able to loosen my grip and he removed his arms from mine. He turned and gently lifted me. This time he didn’t let go when my feet touched the ground, which was just as well because I couldn’t make myself step out of the comfort of his embrace. The top of my head came only to his lower chest, and I lay the side of my cheek against him, letting his warmth seep into me. I realized I was shaking and my teeth were chattering, and I wondered suddenly if I would ever feel really warm again.