The Scrivener's Tale

by Fiona McIntosh

  ‘She was exquisitely beautiful. Her hair was raven and she possessed huge, dark, searching eyes that looked like depthless caverns when she was upset, or black sparkling jewels when she was happy.’ Fynch looked away again, but this time it didn’t seem to be from self-consciousness; rather, it was him focusing his gaze on a distant point, searching back through memories … or it seemed so to Cassien. ‘Her complexion was like the palest rose you can imagine and just as velvety.’ Fynch touched a spot on his chest. ‘Here, just above her heart, she had a tiny mark of the gods; it looked like a crescent moon. She once laughed and told me that although she’d known many men she had not loved a single one. And when she did fall in love she was going to ask him to ink the corresponding and opposing half-moon on his chest.’ He sighed and laughed to himself. ‘She said it would form a loose heart shape that would bind them.’

  ‘How did you know my mother?’ Cassien asked, sounding fearful.

  ‘I met her by chance on a visit to the Pearlis Cathedral. She lived in the city and loved the cathedral. She told me it humbled her and she liked to clean the feet of the dragon.’

  Cassien swallowed. ‘Why?’

  ‘Jetta said the dragon was the king’s beast and it was her way of honouring Florentyna’s father. Later I learned more. She admitted one day that she felt a strange kinship to the dragon himself.’

  ‘Surely she wasn’t —’

  ‘No, she wasn’t, son. Her beast was the blackbird. Appropriate. Mysterious, busy, good mothers, and the females not even black.’ The last one Cassien could see was added for levity, but he wasn’t feeling it.

  ‘Good mother? Really? I couldn’t agree with that.’

  Fynch glanced at him. ‘You didn’t know her.’

  ‘That’s my point. She gave away an infant.’

  ‘Your father made her give you away.’

  ‘Then my father’s a bastard!’ Cassien snarled, hurling the word as an insult.

  ‘He is indeed.’

  Cassien shook his head, looking perplexed. ‘What?’

  ‘A bastard, but I use it in its original meaning. Your father was never claimed by his father. Although he suspected he knew him. The truth is the man he knew as his father liked him and was liked back in return.’

  ‘Are you saying my grandfather didn’t know his own son?’

  ‘Yes. That’s what I’m telling you.’

  ‘Then my father’s a fool for forcing my mother to give me up.’

  ‘Yes, he’s that too. A fool in many respects.’

  ‘Fynch, you speak about my father as though you know him, as though he is alive.’

  ‘I know him. He is alive,’ Fynch replied, meeting Cassien’s angry gaze.

  Cassien stood in shock. ‘What?’ he whispered. ‘You know him? You can name him?’

  Fynch nodded, grief reflected in his eyes. Cassien watched as Fynch began to fumble with the neck of his robe. The man never took his eyes from Cassien, but Cassien shifted his to stare at the flesh that Fynch revealed. Inked onto his chest just above his heart was a crescent moon. Cassien felt a choking pain at the back of his throat and the animal sound that issued had Romaine on her feet and growling back at him.

  In a blink, she stood between the men. Cassien wasn’t sure whether she was defending Fynch against potential attack, or warning Cassien.

  Fynch moved. ‘I deserve it, Romaine,’ he said, standing with effort and moving stiffly to where she stood, no longer snarling, but hackles raised. He stroked her. ‘I know,’ he said.

  ‘What did Romaine say?’ Cassien demanded, his words sounding as choked as he felt.

  ‘She repeated what she’d said earlier to me … that I should not be here.’

  ‘Why are you here, Fynch? Or should I call you father? What’s the protocol now?’

  ‘Call me Fynch. I don’t deserve to be called anything but that. And I’m here to finish what I began and to be truthful about it. No more intrigue.’

  ‘You gave me up to the Brotherhood; why?’

  ‘For this role. I knew you would possess certain skills that came from my magic. I needed you to learn about them in safety and over time. I needed you to prepare yourself for the fight that is coming. Only you can fight him, Cassien. You have the power. You are what stands between Cyricus and the desecration of everything we hold sacred. He wants the Wild. If it is breeched, there is no more magic that can protect our land. Our animals will be powerless. The Dragon King will die. Our world will wither.’

  Cassien held his head. ‘I don’t know how to fight him. This is too much responsibility on my shoulders. I barely know real life. You took it from me.’

  ‘There’s no point in turning away now,’ said a new voice.

  Romaine had heard her, because the wolf had moved to the entrance of the hut, but neither Fynch nor Cassien, both more than capable of sensing someone’s approach, had even noted her silent arrival from her cot to the doorway.

  ‘Your majesty,’ they said together and bowed.

  ‘How much did you hear, Florentyna?’ Fynch said.

  ‘All of it. I’m sorry, I had woken. I hated eavesdropping, so thought it best to show myself.’

  ‘It’s best you know it,’ Cassien replied, throwing a glare toward Fynch.

  ‘Cassien, isn’t this what you wanted? When we spoke on our journey, I heard only longing in your voice to know where you belonged, why this special task had been placed on your shoulders, why you were sent to the forest to learn. Now, you know. And it is not a blot on your life, but surely an acknowledgement of just how important you are to us, to this land, to the Crown and its wellbeing and continuation. I know about duty. And that’s what you’re in the midst of … doing your duty. It doesn’t mean you weren’t loved by either parent.’

  ‘It’s the lie, my queen. You’ve not been lied to.’

  ‘Oh, I think I’ve had my share. Seeing only the darker side of this will be a poison in your heart, believe me. You can’t undo what has been done, Cassien. Fynch has given you the truth. Can’t you see how painful this is for him to tell, just as it is painful for you to hear it? I suspect he would like to tell you that he loves you.’ Florentyna turned her gaze on Fynch, who looked instantly mortified, as though reprimanded.

  ‘Cassien,’ he said, his voice suddenly raspy with emotion, ‘I held you as a newborn and I wept for your perfection. Both of us did. Your mother understood me. She accepted me and all of my burdens. She possessed no magic, but she revered mine.’ He swallowed. ‘Jetta, your beautiful mother, was glad to shine the feet of the dragon in the cathedral long before she met me, but perhaps long before she met me she felt me in her heart. Your mother knew me and loved me as instantly as she loved you. Giving you up was one of the hardest tasks she’d ever had to face.’

  ‘One of the hardest,’ Cassien sneered. ‘What were the other hardships that she could compare to giving away her son?’ he snapped, feeling churlish and wishing he could be understanding in this tense moment. But years of loneliness were driving this despair.

  ‘Two others compare,’ Fynch answered. ‘Giving up Gabriel and Hamelyn to similarly lonely fates.’

  Cassien’s head snapped up, shocked. Fynch didn’t wait, pressing on. ‘She’d had to face relinquishing Gabriel before she gave you up, and by the time it was Hamelyn’s turn, she’d hoped it would be easier, but that was not the case. Your mother took her own life the day she handed me Hamelyn, the day he was weaned, and I took him north. She couldn’t face life a moment longer, and while others believe she succumbed to the disease that was ravaging folk, she ended her life. It was from heartbreak, not from the poison brew she drank.’

  Cassien could hear a ragged sound. It took him a moment to realise it was his own breath, shallow and difficult to draw, making the noise. ‘Brother Josse said —’

  ‘I know what he said. He believes your mother was a whore as well. Everyone thought she gave birth to three boys from different fathers. No-one knew of me, or our love and faithfulness to each
other. Josse knows none of the truth. I alone am telling you the truth. Gabriel is your elder brother, sent to a different world for reasons perhaps you can now piece together. Hamelyn is your younger brother. He has a special role to play that he is not aware of yet. He does not know about my connection to each of you, but it will be my task alone to explain as I have to Gabe first and now you. You should also know that I will not permit Hamelyn to face Cyricus, even though he sees things and has such deep knowledge. He will be the one to connect you all.’

  ‘We knew it!’ Florentyna said, unable to help her excitement. ‘Not about Ham, but we could see the undeniable likenesses between Gabriel and Cassien.’

  ‘Gabe’s dark eyes reflect his mother. Cassien, my colouring affected yours.’ He shrugged. ‘Your eyes were always such a deep blue. But Hamelyn …’ he grinned softly to himself. ‘I believe I looked very similar to him as a youngster. He does not resemble Jetta so much as a gong boy called Fynch. It was long long ago …’

  ‘You brought us together. We are the Triad?’ Cassien asked.

  Fynch nodded. ‘You each had a role. I hoped I’d never have to use you, but the mere fact that I took the precaution means I knew in my heart that you would be needed.’

  ‘Use is the right word.’

  Fynch shrugged. ‘I love each of you. I’m sorry that I am your father because any child of mine was going to have burdens as I did … as I have.’

  Florentyna stepped between them now, just as Romaine had earlier. ‘Stop this! Cassien, your father stands before you. This is the man you have surely longed to meet, to embrace. I could hear the longing in your voice to know family — Fynch has just given you three blood kin. Grab them and hold on! Fynch, I am beginning to gather you have had very little choice. It seems that you, too, have had a life of duty to Morgravia. I am sorry that you two have not known one another in the way you would wish, but life is not known to be terribly fair. I can vouch for that.’

  Cassien felt her words sting. Everything she’d said was right. If he could only push himself past the pain of learning the truth, then all that she suggested seemed perfectly reasonable to ask of an intelligent person and especially someone who had known loneliness for so long. Why push my father away? he asked himself silently.

  ‘Hamelyn’s so young.’ He realised he’d spoken aloud.

  ‘True, but he has enormous untapped power. He can speak with Romaine,’ Fynch said. Cassien blanched.

  ‘But he doesn’t know her.’

  ‘Romaine can reach out to him. We’re waiting for him, in turn, to initiate contact, and then he will accept his power. Once he knows how, he will be able to speak to you and Gabriel as well. Hamelyn is still scared. He dismisses his power in his mind as simply being knowledge he has accumulated, but it’s so much more, Cassien. Hamelyn’s knowledge is coming from a far more ancient source than he can begin to believe.’

  Cassien swallowed. So the strange happening in the cathedral was true then. ‘From the dragon?’

  Fynch smiled in wonder. ‘You know?’

  Cassien put a hand up in defence. ‘I don’t understand though. Forgive me, your majesty. I lied because I thought it was a mistake.’

  She frowned, sat on the stoop of the hut and hugged her knees. ‘What lie?’

  Cassien watched Fynch lean against a tree, noticed how concerned Romaine was. She padded over to sit by Fynch in case he needed her. Cassien squatted down to make everyone feel easier. ‘In the cathedral,’ he continued, ‘both Gabriel and I were called to the dragon pillar.’

  ‘What?’ she said, an odd smile of disbelief in her expression. ‘That can’t be right. It’s impossible,’ she added, cutting a glance at Fynch and then back to Cassien.

  ‘He named us both,’ Cassien pressed. ‘We were both unnerved, as you can imagine. It was easier to lie than to face it.’

  She shook her head. ‘But …’

  ‘It is possible, Florentyna,’ Fynch said softly, ‘if the three boys have the blood of Morgravia passing through their veins.’

  ‘Wait,’ Florentyna begged, ‘I need to catch up. Explain to me how my father is somehow father to Cassien and —’

  ‘Not your father, child. My father,’ Fynch said.

  They both looked at him with lost expressions.

  ‘It’s high time I said this aloud and admitted it myself,’ he said. ‘My father was King Magnus. My mother was no-one — a farmer’s wife. She was very beautiful, far too loose with her affections and inordinately fey. He was lonely; she made him laugh, she wanted nothing from him, and even from the moment I quickened in her womb she never let on that I was his child. I was born into a humble family. A good man believed me to be his son. I had no reason to doubt it until I began working at the castle as a gong boy. Then I, too, began to feel the attraction to the dragon and began to piece together what must have occurred.’ He waved a hand. ‘That’s all history. The fact is, I am the bastard son of King Magnus of Morgravia, half-brother to the hated Celimus and kin to your ancestors,’ he said to Florentyna. ‘I am soul-twin to the dragon king, who chose me and with whom I have remained bonded through centuries. He knows what I do today is …’ He trailed off and looked sadly at Romaine.

  ‘What?’ Cassien asked, his tone suspicious.

  ‘It has inherent dangers,’ Fynch replied, ‘for all of us.’

  ‘Will you forgive me?’ he then said suddenly, taking Cassien by surprise.

  Cassien was stumped for words momentarily, although he was well aware of Florentyna’s glare burning the side of his face.

  The pause lengthened and Cassien saw Romaine lift her head and fix him with a penetrating stare that felt like a knife into his heart.

  ‘It …’ he began and Fynch looked up and at him with a sad expression. ‘It has been lonely. But it has not been unhappy or unworthy,’ he said and knew he was speaking from his heart. This was no brave face, no words of a martyr. The truth was that his life, though strange, was not without pleasure or merit. ‘I could have done without Loup’s punishment,’ he admitted, ‘but then I also couldn’t imagine life without Romaine, or the forest. If you asked me to choose, I would choose Romaine and the forest again and put up with the beatings and loneliness.’

  Fynch nodded. ‘Thank you for your grace, Cassien. It is more than I deserve.’

  Cassien glanced at Florentyna, who slumped her shoulders in a frustrated sigh. ‘Cassien, what wouldn’t I give to hug my father. Don’t waste it.’

  In three strides he had the small man in his arms and both wept with joy at finally being father and son in name, as well as in knowledge. And they wept especially for the simple physical pleasure of their embrace. Nearby, Florentyna shed happy tears for their reunion, although she seemed blatantly unaware that, at the same time, she was stroking an enormous she-wolf.

  Later, over a small picnic of fruit, nuts and a soft goat’s cheese that Fynch had thoughtfully provided — but did not himself partake of — they gathered their thoughts for the pressing matter that had thrown them together.

  ‘We can’t let the queen remain here, Cassien. I know you feel you can protect Florentyna in the forest and in any other circumstance you would be right, but not where Cyricus is concerned,’ Fynch advised.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because the forest is too large. The creatures are at risk, as you will need to roam.’

  ‘What do you mean? I don’t understand.’

  ‘I’ve asked Gabe to use his skills to open up the Void to you.’ Fynch shook his head slightly at Cassien’s frown. ‘Let me explain. Gabe possesses an extraordinary ability to create a scenario, for want of a better word. In his life in another world he could re-create the Pearlis Cathedral with such authority, ease and accuracy, that he believed, firstly,’ Fynch said, holding up a finger, ‘that it was a place of his own design because he knew it so well. As it turns out he was building this cathedral in his mind from a childhood memory. Secondly,’ he continued, holding up another finger, ‘he can access his “destin
ations”,’ Fynch said, loading the word, ‘in a heartbeat and maintain them for as long as he chooses.’

  ‘How do you know he can do this … and what is the Void?’ Cassien asked, receiving a nod of approval for the questions from Florentyna, who was clearly finding it hard to follow the conversation.

  ‘I’ll answer the second part of your question first. The Void is emptiness. It is where the Wild catapulted Cyricus centuries ago. It sent Aphra elsewhere, not taking any chances with the two of them. Gabe can reach the Void. Better, he can create it.’

  Florentyna gave a small gasp, sounding awed, and shrugged at Cassien’s wry glance. ‘You’ve had the presence of magic in your life. I’m having to accept everything that’s been going on around me in the last few days without question. That’s hard, Cassien. Even so, without being told, I’m presuming that what Gabe can do is impressive.’

  ‘It is indeed, your majesty,’ Fynch confirmed, ‘and let me tell you why. Gabriel thinks that I showed him the Void and I’ve let him believe it, because he hasn’t yet put faith in himself. Understandably he feels like the interloper we can’t help but see him as. However, I have told him the truth about his birth and his parents, that his real beginnings are here in Morgravia.’

  ‘How did poor Gabriel take it?’ Florentyna asked, sipping on some sweet wine that Cassien had rustled up from the hut.

  ‘Shocked. He felt wounded, as you did,’ Fynch said to Cassien. ‘Most understandable. Unlike you, though, he didn’t ask lots of questions. He listened. He’s a deep thinker. I think Gabriel will turn it over in his mind and know that I speak the truth because he has felt like an outsider all his life. Now he knows why. He has experienced Cyricus and Aphra for himself, so I am not asking him to take leaps of faith as I ask you. He already knows the truth. He is already primed and determined to destroy Cyricus … except he can’t do so without his younger brothers.’

  ‘Are you telling us that he created the Void?’

  ‘Not created, no … I’m saying he can re-create it in his mind. He has seen the Void in his nightmares but has never remembered the detail of the dream when he wakes, only that it frightened him. Why? Because it is where he will place Cyricus.’