The Tessellation Saga. Book Two. 'The One'

by D. J. Ridgway

  ‘There yer be lad,’ she said as she pulled out a chair. Gideon sat beside her, ‘everyone else be out walking ‘cept you ‘n’ me. ’ she added, smiling sadly. ‘Yer know boy, last night I think we all ‘ad funny dreams…I don’t know ‘ow we saw the pictures yer Da and Sonal made but see em we did,’ she continued as she poured him a cup from the small pot.

  ‘Me Da…,’ Gideon started, trying to make some sense of what he had seen in the smoky images. His grandmother hushed him.

  ‘Yer Da…,’ she interrupted pushing the cup toward him, ‘‘is still yer Da, iffen ‘e as any faults, ‘is, is that ‘e loves yer too much an’ ‘e should ‘ave told yer from the beginnin’.’ She stopped and sipped her tea looking at him pointedly.

  ‘Yer granda an’ me, we ‘ave known ‘ow yer was birthed from the very first…’ she said, matter of factly, her eyes doing little to hide her fear of rejection. ‘Now don’t yer go ‘ateing us,’ she said as the tears formed in her eyes. ‘Yer me grandson Gideon and I love yer now as much as I will on the day I die. ‘Journeys will’ brung Jedadiah ter find the poor young girl that carried yer and ‘Journeys will’ let ‘im keep yer alive. ‘E’s yer Da, always been yer Da an’ ‘e ‘specially don’t deserve yer ‘ate fer that.’

  Gideon looked sadly at the old woman he had known and loved all his life.

  ‘Where is ‘e, gran?’ He asked, standing without touching his tea, ‘I need ter see ‘im,’ he added as his grandmother pushed her chair back.

  ‘Gid love, iffen yer love us… please don’ urt ‘im, ‘e couldn’t take it, not now, ‘e loves yer too much...,’ his grandmother pleaded, tears trembling unshod in her eyes.

  The kitchen door opened and a chill breeze wafted across the room.

  ‘No Lad,’ interrupted his grandfather as he closed the door behind him and walked into the bright kitchen.

  ‘We all love yer too much,’ he said, as he threw his coat over a chair and draped his arms around his grandson. ‘Proud I am of yer boy, an’ right proud yer bear me name,’ he added, holding him tightly, he continued to hold his grandson as he felt the boy’s body shake with emotion.

  ‘I love yer both too,’ Gideon said and finally smiled through his tears ‘an’ I hope I’ll always make yer proud,’ he added as his grandmother wiped her face with the corner of her pinafore.

  ‘Drink yer tea boy, then go find yer Da, e’ be walkin’ in the wood,’ she finished as Gideon senior released his only surviving grandchild from his embrace.

  ‘Ner lad, you go find yer Da, an’ I’ll finish yer tea,’ his grandfather smiled as the boy grabbed the discarded woodsman’s jacket and throwing it over his shoulders walked out of the kitchen closing the door behind him.

  He found his father sitting on the bench where he had teased Mayan on the previous evening and he suddenly he felt guilty. Mayan must ‘ave ‘eard Sonal’s magic too, he thought, then his father looked up at him, his face puffy and swollen as if he’d been crying, fear and pain clear on the rough worn features and for once, Mayan drifted from his thoughts.

  ‘Da,’ he said, an overwhelming love filled him as he looked at the man who had always been his father. ‘Yer could ‘ave left me ter die,’ Gideon said, ‘but yer saved me…’ Jed looked at the man standing tall before him, the years have flown so fast, he thought.

  ‘Yer be me son,’ he said aloud, ‘my son!’

  Gideon senior looked worriedly out of the cottage window.

  ‘They be ‘uggin’ love…,’ he cried, swallowing hard as the lump in his throat threatened to burst and let the tears fall. ‘…they be ‘uggin’…’ He said again quietly, as the two in question walked off toward the wood. His wife slowly placed her arms around him.

  ‘Course they be ‘uggin’,’ she said, relief evident in her face, ‘tell me..., when did the boy get ter be so tall?’ She asked, as the pair stared out the window watching their son and his son, disappear into the trees.

  Chapter 7

  Toby Reaches Branton

  Toby saw the smoke rising from the cottage chimney off in the distance and his heart began to beat faster, he had been tracking his quarry for a long time but finally the end was literally in sight. He had come a long way since he had last seen this cottage, back then, he had been a favoured son, his mother had pointed the house out to him as they had travelled into Branton town to shop and stay a few days.

  ‘Old Gideon Green lives there Toby,’ she’d said, ‘I still remember when he lived out near the forest back ‘ome.’ At the time, Toby had felt a little empathy for the man, as he would have preferred to live this far from the forest too. Green Home Forest had always given him the creeps, making him feel unwelcome, unsafe even.

  ‘We’ll capture, an’ ‘old the traitor ‘ere, the column will catch us up on the Branton Road in a couple o’ days an’ then we’ll travel on ter the markets an’ ‘ome.’ Toby explained to his men as they reached the cottage and dismounted.

  ‘Jayson,’ Toby called to one of the soldiers, ‘take the animals in ter barn an’ sort ‘em out.’

  ‘Yes sir,’ replied the young soldier, happy to be sent with the animals and knowing he had only been sent with the elite force because of his affinity with the huge beasts.

  ‘Missing all the fun again Jayse,’ sneered Duggan, one of Toby’s men as he handed Jayson his horse’s bridal and spat heavy brown tobacco fluid at the young man’s feet. Jayson ignored the comment and subsequent laughter from the other soldiers as he led the horses off, behind him the soldiers approached the cottage.

  Gideon senior opened the door of the cottage with his wife close behind him both clearly afraid.

  ‘I be Gideon Green, what can I do fer yer,’ he said to the men crowding his front door, the men turned to Toby at the mention of the old man’s name.

  ‘Ner, it’s not ‘im, we be lookin’ fer a younger man, twentyish!’ Toby said roughly, recognising Gideon’s grandfather. ‘Yer grandson I believe,’ he added, addressing the old man as he looked past Gideon senior and his wife and into the cottage interior.

  “E ain’t ‘ere, he lives with ‘is Da in Green ‘ome,’ began Gideon senior attempting to block the view of his home.

  “Old ‘em...’ Toby replied turning to his men and smiling, watching dispassionately as the old couple struggled and were quickly and violently overpowered. Toby walked toward the cottage and stepped inside, intent on finding the younger man himself but as he passed the threshold, he stopped, suddenly feeling ill, his stomach clenched hard and his bowels turned liquid. Cold sweat began running down his back and fear ran through him, fear, as he had never known it before. He could not understand it; the house seemed to scream at him, its malevolence almost palpable. In absolute terror, he turned away from the house and his dread subsided almost immediately but was quickly be replaced by shame. His embarrassment at his fear in front of his men made him lash out at the old woman held captive before him, she screamed out in pain and her mouth dripped with blood.

  ‘What d’yer want?’ Pleaded her husband as he watched his wife helplessly, her face red and bruised. ‘Please…, what d’yer want?’ He asked again as Toby lashed out once more, this time at the old man himself.

  ‘Search the ‘ouse,’ Toby screamed at another of his men. Duggan, the searcher, again spat black liquid from between his teeth at the ground in front of him and grinned, enjoying himself immensely.

  ‘Yes sir,’ he said and smiled revealing a row of stained and rotten teeth, black spittle dribbled down his chin and he wiped it with his sleeve as he walked toward the house. Toby waited, expecting the soldier to refuse and back out as he himself had done. Deep shame once more overcame him as Duggan walked on into the house without so much as a pause and angry again; Toby lashed out once more, this time his fist catching the frail old man in the solar plexus. Painfully winded, he sank to his knees.

  ‘Can’t find him sir, I’m going upstairs…’ Duggan called, his voice echoing in the empty house. Toby threw another punch, this time catching
Gideon across the jaw, the force of the blow causing the man to drop prone to the cold earth.

  ‘The house is empty sir.’ The soldier called out from within the cottage.

  ‘I know ‘e’s ‘ere somewhere, where’s ‘e ‘idin’?’ Toby screamed in fury.

  ‘I be Gideon Green.’ The old man said again stubbornly as blood poured from his mouth and pooled on the cold earth beneath his head. Gideon stared at Toby with defiance in his eyes as Toby stepped in front of his wife and taking a knife from his belt, held it to her throat.

  ‘Where be yer gran’son, old man, tell me now or she dies…’ he said, pressing the blade into the skin just deep enough to draw blood. Gideon looked at his wife in terror as she tried to shake her head.

  ‘I be ready fer me journey Gid,’ she cried quietly, tears running down her face, ‘don’t yer go an’ give the boy up,’ she added as the knife pressed harder. From the ground, Gideon senior sobbed, seeing abiding love, understanding and acceptance in her eyes.

  ‘I love yer woman…, don’t yer see, I ‘ave ter,’ he replied as he looked to Toby, his face full of tears. The boy’s in the woods, yonder…’ he sobbed and pointed unsteadily toward the trees. ‘Please…, let me wife go now... she ain’t done nowt, the boy ain’t ‘ere,’ he pleaded as his face crumpled with pain and sorrow. ‘Fergive me boy,’ he whispered as a look of triumph lit up Toby’s face, ‘fergive me…’ he whispered again as the old woman was thrown sobbing onto her husband where he lay on the cold hard ground.

  ‘One of yer tie ‘em up an’ leave ‘em ‘ere,’ ordered Toby impatiently, as he strode off toward the wood. ‘Come on, hurry,’ he added as his men ran to catch him up.

  ***

  In the barn, Jayson unbridled the horses found them clean stalls and rubbed them down, he busied himself in caring for the animals not noticing his surroundings or the other horses already stabled. Hearing a woman’s scream he started, his soft hands becoming rigid and still, the animals feeling his agitation became fidgety and cross.

  ‘Hush, be still,’ he whispered to the disturbed animals forcing himself to calm down and as he did, they copied. He hated this part of his job and hated himself for being a coward. How many times have I stood back and done nothing? He asked himself, I didn’t join for this, his thoughts continued. His stomach knotted in anger as the woman screamed again, he knew he could do nothing to help the poor folk who lived here anymore than he had been able to help his own family, feeling a coward and a failure he stood back, unknowingly leaning against a beautifully carved stall. His eyes closed and he tried to ignore the pain in the sound but it seemed to go on forever, mingling with the screams from his memories. Suddenly he could see his family once more, his father lying dead on the ground, his mother held fast in the arms of a bandit and struggling in vain to get away. He saw his sister lying on the ground and screaming as another bandit tore at her clothes. He could see the knife at her throat where the blade was beginning to bite at her pale skin and unsure whom to help first, he ran toward his mother who was closest.

  ‘Drop the knife boy,’ the bandit holding his mother had ordered.

  ‘Drop the knife or they both die...’ Jayson, wild with fury ignored the command as he continued to rush forward holding his knife point first, intending to kill the men who had destroyed his family. As he neared the bandit holding his mother, she suddenly flew toward him, Jayson could still see the look of shock and surprise on her face as his knife pierced her soft belly. He held her tightly as the momentum of the push forced the knife through her.

  ‘NO..., ‘no,’ he shouted, as his mother lay dying in his arms with her lifeblood pouring from the wound he had inflicted. In his grief, he did not see the second man approach from behind and hit him over the head. Later he awoke in a pool of congealing blood still holding his mother’s body and as he looked around, he wondered why the bandits had left him alive. His family lay around him, his sister ravished with her throat slashed; his father’s body where he had fallen trying to protect them all and his mother, his mother run through by his own hand. Behind him, the family home lay in a smoking ruin and his few possessions were gone, along with what had once been a happy life. Alone and left alive to bury his dead, knowing he had been unable to prevent his father’s death , he believed himself the cause of his mother and sister’s demise, he hated himself and joined the army to die rather than accept the king’s bounty.

  For a moment, Jayson just stared the images of his dead family swirling through his mind just as they always did at times like this. Why am I still alive? The question again whirled around his head as he placed his hands behind him and leaned further into the stalls supports, his head back and his eyes squeezed tightly shut, his fingers clutched hard at the wood forcing his tears to stay away, forcing the merging screams from his mind. As his fingers squeezed tighter, he felt an anomaly in the normally smooth wood, a tiny knot beneath his fingers and a strange irregularity in the wall itself. As he held it, it became warm, almost burning hot, forcing the images of his parents and sister from his mind. Turning he found himself looking at carvings of wooden leaves and vines curling around the deep smooth crossbeams, the vines climbing higher and higher into the rafters, the supports themselves seeming to grow from the earth like trees.

  Looking about him, Jayson suddenly realised the whole barn was covered in the carvings, each stall seemed as if it had grown into place rather than been built from rough timber. He ran his hands along the walls in surprise, lovingly feeling each ridge and groove in the wood and smiling as he came across an elaborately carved frog sitting watching him from an equally exquisite leaf. He marvelled at the intricacies of the knife work and smiled with delight as he discovered more tiny insects and animals hidden amongst the wooden stalls and beams. I wonder how I didn’t notice earlier? He thought as he continued to discover more and more wonders.

  The horses snorted gently, the air full of the smells of warm straw and wood and for him, the barn seemed alive, comforting somehow. Jayson had not known so much peace and love since his family had been lost to him. Leaning forward, his forehead against what seemed to be the bole of a tree he at last felt free, free from the guilt he carried over his family’s death and at last knowing in his heart they were together on their journey and they wanted him to forgive himself. Taking a long deep breath, he walked out of the barn to find his comrades.

  ‘You, Jayse, see to it, tie ‘em up’ called the corporal as the three remaining men hurried after Sergeant Hollins as he walked briskly into the wood.

  Jayson looked at his senior man disappearing into the trees and then to the old folk lying cold and bloody on the hard ground.

  ‘Mam,’ he said to the old woman, ‘yer shouldn’t be lying on the floor like that, you’ll catch yer death. Here, let me help yer get up,’ he said, smiling kindly.

  ‘There’s anovver of ‘em in the ‘ouse,’ whispered Gideon senior fearfully as he watched Jayson helping his wife, suspicion evident in his eyes. Jayson took the old woman into the house and returned to help the old man and as Jayson placed his arms around him, Gideon suddenly relaxed and knew with a deep certainty that this man was a friend.

  ‘I’ll deal with the intruder’s body sir,’ Jayson said quietly, ‘Duggan must have fallen down the stairs, his neck is broken,’ he added.

  Chapter 8

  Gideon’s Relapse

  Gideon’s head felt fit to burst and as he walked it seemed to be getting worse, the pain was unlike anything he had ever experienced. Pressure seemed to be building behind his eyes making it difficult for him to see, he was cold and hot at the same time and once again his skin felt too small for his body. His skin itched unbearably with the fabric of his clothes just exacerbating the problem.

  ‘Come on Gid lad, we’ll soon be ‘ome ter yer gran’s ‘ouse,’ his father said, as he hurried his son back over the slight rise and approached the gully that separated his father’s land from the wood. He was worried sick, Gideon had never had a day’s illness in his li
fe and since leaving home; he had suffered sickness, headaches, nausea and now this. He wanted to consult Sonal who usually knew what to do in unusual situations.

  ‘Da, I’m gonna…,’ Gideon turned away from his father, bent double and threw up, coughing and spluttering as the contents of his stomach vented upon the leafy ground, Jed turned and leaned over his son his hand gently resting on his back.

  ‘It’s not far now boy, yer’ll be al…’ Jed fell, his unconscious form falling heavily and hitting the ground as Gideon threw up again, the vomit missing his father by inches. Exhausted, Gideon dropped to his knees beside him.

  ‘Da…, Da,’ he cried as he blindly shook the unconscious man through his bouts of vomiting. With his eyes watering and the pain in his head building once more, Gideon had not heard the approach of the soldiers any more than his father had.

  ‘Well met Gideon,’ called Toby, as Gideon tried hard to open his wounded eyes and see, pressing the heels of his hands deeply into his eye sockets he scrubbed hard.

  ‘Tie ‘im tight,’ ordered Toby. Within minutes, Gideon found himself trussed like a turkey awaiting the oven for the oncoming winter festival.

  ‘I ain’t tying ‘is ‘ands til ‘e’s finished pukin’,’ laughed one of the guards as Gideon, now helpless as a kitten allowed himself to be held as he vomited.

  He thought he was dying, his blood was pounding in his veins and the pressure in his head was building to a point of bursting, his whole body felt wrong, pain was everywhere and all he wanted to do was die.

  Toby kicked Gideon’s unconscious father aside as Gideon threw himself forward once more onto his hands, his stomach clenching hard. He could hardly breathe, his throat burned from the acidic bile, his head was buzzing and his eyes burned with the light of the sun. Tears of pain poured down his face and dripped off his nose to mingle with the cooling vomit and dark yellow bile beneath him. Toby’s stomach churned at the intense smell.