My question, innocently asked, set Blaez into a frothy fury of denial. I reeled my treasure back like a landed fish and thought uncharitable thoughts. Of course Blaez didn’t have anyone awaiting his return with love, a hot fire and spread legs. Any girl with half a brain knew trouble when Blaez was around.
As Blaez’s curiosity piqued the men, I reluctantly displayed it for Buck-Eye, Rade and the others, permitting them to ooh and ahh over its pricelessness. But I never allowed them to actually touch it. I didn’t know if the magic would open up to them, and didn’t want to find out. If they knew I held magic in my fists – ye gods!
Under the shimmer of the firedrake, I peered into its golden depths. Willing myself to see Van, Iyumi and that devil-creature Malik, the canvas of its power opened up before me. Like a painting over the stars, the gem showed me a camp bedding down for the night: watches set, the evening meal eaten and cleared away, bedrolls unrolled, pipes lit with flaming sticks, wine and ale warmed. Funny. Their camp activities mirrored mine.
Van, Iyumi and Malik stood near the blazing fire, talking. That huge bay and white Centaur stood at Malik’s right, while a hulking Griffin sat at Van’s back, its black-tipped lion tail twitching in sharp spasms. A second Griffin, larger than the first one and darker in color, stood behind Iyumi and appeared to be talking to her. Her head tilted back, anyway, her lovely throat exposed, her silver-gilt hair trailing in long lengths to her hips. She answered him, smiling. My eyes roved to –
A wolf howled nearby, startling me out of the spell. The picture over the sky vanished, leaving behind only stars and the moon peeking above the distant tree line. Tucking the amber gem into my shirt, I glanced around, cautious. I saw nor heard anyone close by, but knew instinctively who was.
“Hello, Mother.”
The darkness amid the trees to my right shimmered briefly. She emerged into my view, a gossamer phantom, her white and gold gown trailing mist. She strolled, with the same elegance she used to cross her throne room, stepping softly and lightly. Not a twig cracked under her slippered foot. Her fair lips parted in a faint smile.
“I see you’re using my gift wisely.”
Before I could stop it, my hand raised itself toward my chest, and the gem hiding next to my heart. I willed it to subside, and rested it against my knee. “I reckon so.”
More lovely than any goddess, Enya crossed the small clearing, her shadow eclipsing the stars. Only when she turned to face me, did the dark bruise on her cheek become appallingly apparent. Its ugly stain brought me to my feet faster than a whip.
“What happened?”
She half-turned away, her fingers trailing across the mark of a fist. His fist. I growled low in my throat, like an ugly mongrel.
“Um, yeah,” she said, her tone aiming for lightness. “Your father doesn’t care much for failure,” she said, her voice low. “Mine, yours –”
“How the bloody hell does he know I failed?” I snapped, my spine rigid, my fists clenched. “The battle was what? A few hours ago?”
She tried to remain calm, serene. She failed miserably. Her composure crumpled. She turned to me and buried her face in my chest. Of their own accord, my arms wrapped about her slender shoulders, holding her, comforting her. Her tears wet my shirt, her cheek pressed against the precious gem.
“I’m sorry, son. I tried to be strong, to be as strong as you. I’m just not –”
“What happened?”
“It’s her,” Enya sobbed. “It’s all her. She seduced him years ago, she’s a witch, a devil. She knows everything that goes on, she sees, she knows –”
“She?”
I didn’t know how cold my voice had grown until I felt her shiver.
“She has power,” my mother whispered. “Great power. She tangled your father –”
She choked over the title, swallowing her tears. “– my beloved husband, in her lies and deceit. My small magic could do nothing to save him from her enchantments. She knows you failed to kill the Atani idiots and bring in the princess. She told him everything –”
“Everything.”
“Yes, son,” Enya stammered, her breath short. “He was wroth, oh so very angry, you know how it is when he gets angry.”
I did, all right.
“He lashed out at Fainche, but I stopped him, crying, begging him for mercy. He struck me – in her place.”
I growled again, a deep rumbling in my chest. I can find him, I thought. I’ll find him and rip his throat and drink his blood, I swear –
Enya sobbed against my chest. “I wish I was dead!” she cried. “I love him, but I love my children more. I can’t stand to see him hurt you, my son, my beloved daughter. I wish she hadn’t ruined our lives! I hate her! Oh, how I hate her!”
Crooning, sing-song nonsense words left my mouth and entered her ears, her soul. In them I spoke of my love for her, how I craved to protect her, how I’d willingly die defending her. I whispered of my love for my frail, tiny sister, my Fainche. Everyone who ever encountered her bubbling laughter and smile loved her within an instant. Not even the woman who gave birth to her was immune to her sweet innocence.
Enya raised herself from the shelter of my arms, wiping her reddened eyes at the same time trying to hide them. My finger under her chin tilted her face up to mine. “I’ll kill him.”
My soft promise brought only new terror from her.
My mother clutched my fingers, new tears sliding down her cheeks. “No, son, no. I love him yes, but it’s not his fault. It’s not, don’t you see? It’s her, that witch, the Duchess, she makes him do these things, this evil. Spare him, I beg you, spare him and kill her. That’s it, kill her and your father will love us all again. We’ll be a family again, you’ll see. It’s not his fault.”
The happy, desperate smile never left her eyes, her tremulous lips, the tears that yet dripped down her cheeks. I love him, those cornflower blue eyes informed me. He lashes out at me, wounds me to the core, but I love him still. As you should. He’s a good man, deep down.
Sure he was.
I permitted her her wifely duty, assured her I’d not harm him in a million years, watched as she smiled a tremulous and hopeful smile. Yet, I promised something else, deep within my soul: I’ll kill him. Before the summer is out, he’ll be lying at me feet, bloody and spent. I have the power.
My mother wiped her swollen cheeks, and brushed my cheek with her fingers. “I have to tell you something.”
“Tell me – what?”
“The crystal doesn’t just show you your enemies,” she said, her voice choked. Her face – she kept it averted, ashamed. “If you picture them, you see them, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Find them, then will your body there. Think hard, put yourself in their space, and it’s done. You can kill them with ease, stopping their hearts before they suspect a thing. You can kill her guards, and take her for your own.”
Iyumi. Princess Yummy. I swiped my hand across my mouth, and half-turned away from her. Such thoughts – not in front of one’s mother. I will marry her, and unite our kingdoms, I told myself. She’ll love me, and offer herself willingly, happily, that luscious body mine. I imagined her pregnant, her belly rounded and tight with my seed.
Our son.
“It will happen,” she whispered “Will it and it will be so.”
“I will it.”
“Yes, my son, my favorite, my most special child. Find your will and make it happen. You have the power.’
Even to myself my voice sounded far away. “I will it shall be so.”
“She will be yours.”
“Mine.”
“Forever. Your line shall never fail. Your sons will sire kings of great renown. And all will revere your name, forever.”
The idiot wolf howled again, breaking rudely into my daydream. I woke from it, blinking, coming to myself. “Mother?”
Her hand caressed my bristly cheek, as I hadn’t shaved since I couldn’t remember when. “Remember how much I love you, m
y son, my Flynn. You’ll save us all, I know it.”
“I will.” I replied, my tone cold yet I took a deep breath to assuage my anger. “He’s dead, Mother. He just don’t know it yet.”
Her face turned away from me, hiding her expression. “I don’t want this,” she whispered. “I don’t want him dead. I don’t want you dead, either. I dare not make a choice. I cannot make a choice.”
My finger on her cheek turned her face toward me. “You won’t, Mother,” I promised, my voice soft. “I’ll make it.”
Her blonde, luxurious hair swept across her face, hiding it from me. “I must go, Flynn. He’ll search for me soon. I must be there, or he’ll get suspicious.”
I withdrew my hand, my heart hardening. “May the good gods guide your steps, Mother.”
I felt rather than saw her nod, as she turned away. If she spoke in return, I didn’t hear her voice or her words. The wolf howled again, closer, as she withdrew into the circle of trees and vanished from my sight.
After she departed and the wolf shut up, I contemplated the crystal again. I didn’t seek Van and Company this time. Rather, I pictured my father, King Finian the Fair, within my mind. I glanced up into the sky as the amber crystal showed me what I most wanted to see.
Finian was in bed at this early hour, but he wasn’t sleeping. Instead, he took between his covers a nubile young thing with dark hair, fair skin and wasn’t my mother. My rage soared as I realized his partner wasn’t exactly willing. Beneath her terrified brown eyes a gag filled her mouth and tied behind her neck. Heavy rope bound her hands over her head, and a bruised and bloody ankle, also knotted with a heavy rope, peeped out from under the sheet. Monstrous! With a beautiful wife and an unknown number of luscious mistresses, why did he resort to rape?
Because he can.
If I didn’t defend the girl’s honor, who would? I went so far as to collect my will, to send myself into his chambers and stab my sword through his neck as he entertained himself in his sainted wife’s absence. Only my mother’s timid voice, telling me how much she loved him, kept me on that hilltop, hundreds of leagues away.
“Flynn,” she wept, her sobs echoing within my mind. “Don’t. Please, I beg you.”
I subsided, cursing under my breath, all thoughts of Van, Iyumi and the Atani who accompanied them vanished from my thoughts.
“Your time comes,” I whispered into the darkness and starlight as I shut the crystal down and shoved it under my tunic. “I will kill you, you bastard.”
“He’s dead!”
Buck-Eye’s grieving voice broke into my restless, nightmare haunted sleep. Once more, that brat wandered into my head and took up residence. Dammit, I protested, I killed you. He didn’t speak – he never spoke in my dreams. Yet, the gaping wound in his throat grinned redly, while his dark eyes regarded me with both accusation and a weird, solemn kindness. As he often did, he reached out a small hand toward mine, as though inviting me to take it. I shrank from him, scared, knowing that should I accept it, he’d drag me down into the depths of hell with him.
What? My groggy mind tried to grasp Buck-Eye’s meaning. Yes, of course he’s dead. I sacrificed him on a demon’s altar for unrivaled power.
Buck-Eye choked, tears thickening in his throat. “M’lord, he shouldn’t have died. He was fine, he was sleeping when I took my watch, I swear it!”
Oh. That ‘he’s dead’.
I sat up, not needing to feign bleariness, but feigning concern. “What?”
The wool blanket I used to cover myself from the night’s highland chill pooled into my lap as I wiped my hand down my face. My eyes, filled with muck, tried to focus. Hell’s teeth, but I hated recriminations early in the morning.
Buck-Eye cradled Rade’s head in his lap, Rade’s dead and glazed eyes staring into nothing. He’d died some hours ago, and had already stiffened. His flesh had paled to that of a cadaver, bloodless, empty of life and soul. Buck-Eye tried to close his eyes, but Rade’s lids refused to stay down. Like a shutter, they rolled back up, revealing faint blue tinges around his irises.
“I came off my watch,” Buck-Eye said, grieving, panicked. “He slept, I swear it, he was just sleeping sound. I woke Galdan as usual and went to sleep myself. He shouldn’t have died, m’lord! He’d have been fine, after a fashion. Why did he die?”
Because I told you to overdose him with blackroot, I thought, but didn’t say aloud. Instead, I muttered, “Shit”, and ran my hands through my hair. “This just bites rocks. I’m so sorry, Buck-Eye, I know you two were close.”
Buck-Eye rocked his friend’s head back and forth, wrapped within the confines of his brawny arms. Tears rolled unchecked down his ruddy cheeks to saturate his scruffy, thin beard. “He’d be fine, I know he’d be all right, he just needed time and some fixing up. Why did he die? He didn’t need to die!”
As that fierce mercenary soldier wept over the corpse of his friend, my guilt slapped me hard across the face. No, he didn’t need to die. Had I some guts, I could have healed him while minimizing his true injuries. Had I real courage, I’d have healed him with my powers, thus showing them all that magic wasn’t evil, that it performed many good deeds. Like healing the grievously injured soldiers under my command.
Instead, I took the coward’s way out. He’d have slowed me down, so I killed him to spare myself the necessity of being noble or brave. I killed him because I was selfish. I shut my jaw tight against a sharp wave of self-hatred. That little boy didn’t need to die any more than Rade did. My magic was – is – sufficient for whatever I needed. I’d no use for more.
“I’m so sorry, Buck-Eye,” I said, and actually meant it.
Buck-Eye smoothed Rade’s hair from his brow and kissed it. “He’s in a better place, m’lord.”
I hope so, I thought. Because this place certainly bites.
Despite my haste, we took the time to bury Rade. I owed him that much. Buck-Eye chose his grave, upon a hill lined with fir, pine and oak trees, and one that gazed upon a sunlit valley filled with songbirds, falcons, kestrels, and grazing deer. Darting hummingbirds dined upon the various wildflowers strewn across the grasslands pocked with thickets of thorny thickets and scrub oak. The entire area exuded peace enough to send the most sinful into heaven.
He’d like it here, I thought, piling heavy rocks across his grave for a cairn, Buck-Eye, Torass, Boden and Lyall helping me. Blaez brooded as Galdan watched his back and Todaro watched them both, his hand on his hilt. Rade always loved peaceful scenery about him.
“How’d you know that, m’lord?”
Buck-Eye’s question brought me to myself as I straightened, brushing dirt from my hands. I hadn’t known I’d spoken aloud until Buck-Eye’s question intruded. Blaez stared hard at me as Torass and Boden tossed a few more rocks upon the cairn, gazing down at the grave of their friend. I didn’t even know how I knew that about Rade. We’d never exchanged confidences; neither trusted the other enough.
I just knew.
I shrugged, self-effacing. “He told me once,” I said, my tone low, feigning grief. “And – he’s that type. He loved the natural order of things.”
Gods be praised, Buck-Eye accepted my answer, nodding in satisfaction. Blaez continued his accusing stare as though he knew I murdered Rade in the night, and rubbed his huge bag of toys as he might a pet dog. I paid him little heed, pretending real grief as my soul ached under the tremendous guilt. Can I ever be absolved of these crimes? Can I ever stop murdering people in cold blood?
“Speak a few words, m’lord?”
Buck-Eye’s question jolted me. What could I say? Sorry I killed you, old chap? I wasn’t thinking straight, I was too frightened to use my healing magic, too fearful my own men might turn on me like rabid dogs, surely you’ll understand.
“Uh,” I began, floundering. Under their eyes, their trust, their faith, I cleared my throat. “Of course.”
I stepped up, standing near his head. I had no cap to drag down, as did Buck-Eye and Boden, but I bowed my head. My words
bubbled up from a pool deep within me, unknown and unheeded until now. “Rest ye well, Rade of Blakamon, soldier and loyal officer. You died in the service of your prince –”
– wasn’t that both real and ironic? –
“– and thus your entrance into heaven is assured. May the gods shine their light upon you and guide you into peace and tranquility. The good gods be praised.”
“The good gods be praised,” answered Buck-Eye and the others, in unison.
Blaez still scowled, as though the funeral interrupted his schedule. Galdan sweated and tapped his fingers on his hilt as I tossed a fistful of earth onto Rade’s cairn. “Be at peace, my friend,” I murmured, turning away.
Buck-Eye tossed his own soil. “I’ll never forget you, brother. Be at peace. You earned it. But watch over me, when you can. Please?”
One by one, Torass, Boden, Lyall, Kalan and Todaro tossed their fistfuls of dirt onto the grave in solemn ceremony. Only Blaez and Galdan held back, as though blessing the dead might incur their own funerals. I didn’t force them, for they owed their loyalty to my father and none other. If they didn’t respect Rade enough to mourn him in proper fashion, then to hell with them.
As I walked toward a saddled and waiting Bayonne, I cast a simple spell over my shoulder. “Permit him to lie, undisturbed, until the world’s end,” I muttered, my tone so low no one could possibly hear it. “Let no creature dig up his bones, feast upon his rotting flesh, or possess his spirit. It is done. Let it be done.”
I set the spell, and mounted my horse. “Blaez, you ride the vanguard today. Galdan, you’re the rearguard. Buck-Eye, you and Torass flank me. Lyall, you ride east as Todaro rides west. Kalan.”
I glanced at the young, eager soldier with the keen eye of an eagle sizing up its prey. “You and Boden are my bodyguards. Aren’t you lucky?”
I lunged out of my blankets, horror drawing over my soul.
The Unforgiven Page 26
