‘Home,’ he said aloud, in his heart, he had always known this day would come. He could not remember how many lives he had lived or how many times he had tried to sire a daughter. With Lydia’s birth, he had finally known the end of his exile was drawing near. Until her birth his own magic and his memories of home, of Arotia had slowly eroded as the blood in his host body drew further and further away from the blood that had run through his veins when he had been born, so long ago on Arotia.
On Lydia’s death, his world had collapsed. Many times over the years, he had looked at his burgeoning young daughter and thought her ready for him but prudence held him back, his best chance of success was with her as a woman. Therefore, he had waited until her sixteenth birthday and had taken her then, she of course had been frightened and hurt but she had not understood his need of her. Only as it became obvious that she was with child had Gath left her physically alone, he remained as always, solicitous of her every need and desire but the pregnancy made her an object of fragility, after all, he believed her child would be his salvation and nothing that could endanger that would be permitted.
From her first years, Lydia was frightened of her father and his intensity around her and he allowed her no friends other than the maidservants he chose, so she grew into a solitary young woman, happy to be on her own in the great castle libraries or in the palace gardens. Gath considered this fitting and left her to her own devices provided she always had her maid with her, the maid that would report to Gath directly on any of his daughter’s needs.
As she grew, she craved the company of people other than her father’s successive chosen companions. Her attempts to be friendly with other servants employed in the castle always seemed to come to nothing as her ‘current guardian’ thwarted each tentative offer of friendship but despite the girl’s best efforts, Lydia did meet and become friendly with one of the garden lads. The maid duly reported the friendship to the king and surprisingly, Gath allowed it to stand.
Just before Lydia’s fateful birthday, her father had her likeness commissioned by a renowned artist. She sat for the portrait quietly and patiently, enjoying the scenes and the memories playing out in the artist’s head. Never allowed out of the castle alone and never having travelled far, her interests in the known world had had to be satisfied by the books she read and the tales servants told her. Until that is, she discovered she could also read the minds and memories of people in her father’s employ. Over the years she became very good at it but kept her ability a secret from everyone around her, this, a habit born of necessity as everything she did or said she knew was reported directly to her father. His mind she was never able to read, his remained blank and though she often tried, there always a barrier of some kind.
On the evening of her birthday she knew something had changed with the king, his intensity around her had been increasing and throughout the day she had caught him looking at her with such concentration on his face that it made her shake with fear. At her birthday dinner, he decreed she was now an adult and had given her a glass of foul tasting wine.
‘To celebrate you’re becoming an adult,’ he said, as she finished the wine and accompanied him to his rooms to retrieve a special gift he had inadvertently left there. Lydia went with him gladly; knowing that her day was soon to be over and she could retire to her own rooms and be alone.
That night though, Gath had taken her forcibly and repeatedly, he kept her in his rooms and used his now enhanced magically ability to change the perception of servants who knew her. They saw only a king’s whore in his bed and their ears seemed deafened to pleas for help. After the repeated rape and the princess’s resulting pregnancy became apparent, Gath ensured that the blame be directed at the garden boy’s door, the only friend Lydia had ever been allowed. She pleaded for her friend’s life relentlessly until one day frustrated by her constant whining; Gath struck out at her, knocking her to the floor. In his horror at his action and the possible damage done to the unborn child, he left himself unguarded for the first time and as she lay stunned from the blow, she subconsciously sought to read his mind. His concern for the unborn child left him weak and vulnerable with his mind open to assault as he searched for any sign of damage he may have inflicted from his violent blow, so Gath was completely unaware as his daughter went deeply into his psyche.
In an instant, Lydia saw his memories flowing before her like a running tap, each memory deeper and darker than the last; she saw his long and many lives, the deaths he had caused and his love of all that was violent. She saw the memory of darkness, hiding away inside him awaiting the time to claim his soul. She saw an old man laying beneath a tree a knife in his body, blood pooling beside him. The injured man mumbled, pointing unsteadily at the person whom Lydia knew to be Gath, her father but looked nothing like the man she now knew so intimately and loathed so fully.
Then she saw her mother, pale, exhausted and beautiful, looking at her lovingly and as Gath nodded, her mother’s face changed as her throat was sliced open, dark red blood flowing fast into a large bowl held by a man who frowned sadly, Rhoàld, it was Rhoàld! She recognised him as tears fell from his eyes just as Gath took her from her mother’s dying arms and held her to him laughing. She saw the future and his intention toward her, his only daughter, Gath wanted her child, she was to die as she birthed him the way her mother had died birthing her. In the back of her mind, Lydia began to plan her escape from that moment; Gath would not use her child the way both she and her mother were used.
After pulling the garden boy’s tongue to prevent the truth from being exposed, Gath had the boy publically executed for rape. The dead boy’s father knowing the truth of his son’s friendship bravely sought out the princess, who for once came into the gardens alone and he promised to help her if the need ever arose.
Gath and his willingness to accept a bastard child into his family, the child of a rapist and a servant at that, was once more seen by the people of Derova and the surrounding kingdoms as the act of a generous and loving monarch. The dead boy in their opinion had seen justice at its best.
When Lydia had run away, Gath’s powers had once again slowly begun to fail him and although he sent teams across the country looking for his daughter, each following his weakening seeker spells and verbal instruction he found nothing. Finally, she disappeared, he could neither see, nor feel her in the ether that was becoming faint and difficult for him to enter once more. Then, he knew she was dead and taken his salvation with her.
Now, just as Lydia had disappeared so long ago, so Rhoàld too had vanished taking Lemba with him. Gath did not understand, he had taken Rhoàld’s blood and should have been able to locate him wherever he was hiding and he had indeed once, his seeker had found him far away across the hills and at the time, it amused him to think Rhoàld believed he was getting away but now there was nothing. Rhoàld was gone, he could feel his skin beginning to age and he needed either Rhoàld’s blood or the boy Gideon, so he could become truly young in body once more.
He looked across at Darnel as he rode beside him, would Darnel appreciate a younger body to play with, he thought as an image of Gideon rose in his mind. Though even Gideon with his pure blood seemed able to hide himself from him at will, Gideon’s magic was untrained, without the knowledge and the training required the magic would simply explode out of Gideon killing and destroying indiscriminately. He could not possibly have learnt enough control in the last few weeks, Gath thought.
His mind drifted back once more to a time after Lydia’s death, when he had felt lost, his ability to feel the magical blood of his people deteriorating and his manhood failing fast alongside it, the way it had in the desolate years before he had found Lena. He remembered one time after her death when he had felt the call though and so strongly he had left to castle to seek the source, desperate as he was, he walked the streets of Devilly night after night until dawn, as he followed the song. Sweet and pure it beckoned him come, promising youth and vitality, then almost a week after it started
, the call stopped as if it had never been. He remembered venting his frustration on numerous inhabitants of the dungeons ensuring their last journey began painfully.
‘Jed Brewster.’ Gath voiced the name aloud; he had not felt the call of the blood again until he had met the innkeeper’s son. Darnel seated on a horse beside his lord looked at him questioningly. Gath said no more, returning to his thoughts and pleased at the reprieve Darnel returned to his own. I should have known, Gath thought, remembering the way Jed’s blood had screamed at him, blood brother to my own son, again, his thoughts drifted.
The prisoner, the man from the bleak, the dirty man from the dungeon, almost an animal when he had first arrived in chains, Hackman too had betrayed him, allowing the creature to escape but not before Gath had acquired the tattoo. The tattoo on the prisoner’s back had called to him just as the magic did, it had spoken to him from the start, there was just something about it, it struck a deep chord in his mind, resonating and shaking up his memories. The man’s cell carvings had finally been the catalyst; he finally remembered why the two images struck him so. The Great Chamber of Justice, part of which was drawn in ink on the man’s back and a huge hexagonal crystal standing tall in the fore front of the tattoo and then the whole chamber painstakingly represented on the solid stone walls of the cell. From the twelve great pillars to the crystal-topped throne, someone somewhere knew the way home.
The man had come from ‘The Bleak’, captured as he tried to escape its boundaries, it makes sense, he thought, I arrived on this world at the bleak.
Gath had arrived on earth through the gateway from Arotia, welcomed by the sight of a blue sky and a crystal-clear lake. Trees and grasses had been thick and green, the whole valley had been teeming with life and vitality, Themos and Thaddrick chose the area for that reason I’m sure. He thought, surprised that he could remember both their names after so long.
‘Thaddrick, be dammed to hell on this world or the next, I will get home.’ Gath said his voice loud and full of steel as a vision of his last encounter with Thaddrick came unbidden to his mind.
He twisted in his saddle to take a last look at Devilly Castle knowing his last and he hoped final instructions would be carried out to the letter. Gath wanted every contingency covered even to his failing to return home to Arotia. If by some chance I do fail, well, I have somewhere to return to, he reasoned. Returning his gaze to the road ahead, Gath felt discomfort in his neck, he had slept badly and his neck was painful and stiff. In his mind, he could feel his body aging; he needed blood but since Rhoàld had disappeared, his need could not be sated, his paranoia returned with a vengeance. Betrayal had originally marooned him on this accursed world, Astin’s betrayal and then Rhoàld betrayed him with Bastian before running away, he ran knowing that I need his blood in order to survive, he thought angrily, just like Lydia ran... Lydia had also betrayed him by taking away his salvation and without the blood or the child; Gath believed he would never return home, he would grow old… and die. Gath’s thoughts had turned full circle.
Morosely he watched as the horses snorted loudly, sending plumes of hot white breath, billowing out into the cold crisp air, dissipating quickly only to be replaced by another and another, each breath aging the animals a little more, just like me, he thought. By the journey, I want to be young again! His thoughts screamed at him. Glancing behind, he saw Darnel, alone like a god atop his steed and almost hidden by the huge cloak he wore, Gath massaged his neck with his free hand thinking he would order a stop soon. The young man would be able to ease his tension, perhaps he would order the carriage drawn up and he and Darnel could retire to its warmth and its furs. The caravan could continue without him at its head, yes, that’s it, we will retire now, he thought as he called for a slight halt whilst he dismounted and signalling for Darnel to follow, he made his way to the waiting carriage.
The caravan continued on its way, heading toward Green Home Village by way of Branton Town. That was the direction that his son’s outburst had come from and by now he believed Toby would have him. Once I meet up with Hollins and have Gideon, no, have become Gideon, I’m heading with my men into the bleak. He thought, it had begun there so many years ago and he was sure now that from there he would find his way home.
Chapter 20
The Latticework Coffin
‘We must travel light and fast, I don’t know how long Gideon will be able to hold out from the sickness once we are away from here,’ said Varan, as the group gathered the next morning.
‘It’s a shame we can’t take the protection of the forest with us,’ muttered Sonal in return as Gideon’s grandfather suddenly grinned.
‘Iffen I may ‘ave a word in private gentlemen,’ he said smiling as Dotty’s party in their hastily loaded carriage called love and goodbyes as they set off down the road. Gideon’s father turned as he walked into the cottage, he stood and watched as Jayson drove away the carriage carrying his parents and Dotty. As he watched, Dotty raised a hand in a good-bye that seemed directed only at him. The colour crept up his neck as he called out.
‘I’ll be with all o’ yer as soon as I can be Dotty…’ he shouted, surprising himself at the depth of his affection for the young woman.
‘I know you will and I’ll wait for you...’ she replied faintly, waving once more. The carriage moved on, finally moving out of sight and for the first time since his wife had died, Gideon’s father felt his heart lurch as it disappeared from view.
‘Silly old fool, she’s young enough ter be me daughter…’ he mumbled to himself as he turned away to re-enter the house.
Between preparing the abandoned military horses for the three-day ride and loading a number of planks of Green Home wood to the cargo, Varan and Sonal took the time to marvel at the carvings inside the barn. The warm wood seemed alive and comforting, inspiring trust and friendship.
‘The forest must be a very special place Sonal, to inspire such love as this,’ said Varan, as he carefully ran a hand over the warm wood.
‘It is brother; it’s been my home now for many years. I believe it’s been the dictate of my destiny,’ he added, looking meaningfully at Varan. Over the last few days he had begun to realise, Gideon was at the heart of a lot more than just prophecy.
‘Military horses are such useful creatures,’ smiled Sonal as he tied yet another plank of wood to the side of the animal so conveniently left behind by the soldiers, the horses were calm and obedient as the stores were loaded on to the animals amongst the wood. Then finally, all was ready. Sonal warned Gideon to inform them the moment he felt ill and he and Mayan climbed onto the back of a horse, Jed and Lemba also mounted a horse together leaving Jed, Rhoàld, Sonal and Varan to ride separately.
Just prior to the party setting off the elder twins walked around the cottage and grounds holding each other, singing and gesticulating as they cast spells of warding and protection. Gideon watched them thinking of the way his father always placed the stones on the cairns of his family before leaving home for any length of time and Jed, seeing his son frowning, crossed to him.
‘Gid lad, we be goin’ ‘ome, it’ll all be fine now, I know it.’ Gideon shuddered as his father lifted his hand from his shoulder. Somehow, he knew this was not over yet.
As the day wore on Lemba saw the world with a different awareness. At first, Jed talked to her, telling her what he knew of the slave markets in Devilly and the plight of the Green Home families travelling toward the same fate. Gradually though, as Lemba could not reply and the talking remained one sided, the conversation drifted and slowed, leaving each to their own thoughts. Jed became quiet and morose, now no longer even attempting to converse, his thoughts were with the suffering of his parents, the villagers and his own attempt on Gideon’s life. Lemba thought of the pretty box with its grizzly contents that she held securely in her jerkin and she sighed as she wound her arms around Jed’s waist.
She held him tightly, offering as much comfort and love as she could, she could feel his sorrow and worry just
as she had seen it the night before in the cottage. She closed her eyes and rested her head against his back listening to his heart beating and the blood pumping around his veins. Exploring further and found she could feel the blood in the horse between her knees, the power in its muscles, there, quivering just waiting to be unleashed. She could almost see the thoughts in its head, jumbled, full of grass and wind. Expanding her sight further, she could feel the life and the hearts of birds in the sky above her, the magic of the world felt as if it was hers to command and she loved the way it made her feel, all glowing and strong.
Opening her eyes once more, she looked around at her companions, all of them seemed to have an aura; she could feel them close by and strong. Still experimenting with her newly found power, she closed her eyes and tried to see through the magic and knowing roughly whereabouts around her, her friends physical bodies were; she began to search for them. As she searched, she could feel varying degrees of strength all around, from the sap drawing up the boles of the trees as they slept through the cold to tiny pulses of life she could identify as animals hibernating nearby and then there was the fast, furious heartbeats of the birds overhead. Magic is everywhere, she thought as she once more she squeezed Jed, wishing he could join her in her exploration; she felt his aura close and comforting before her, again felt the horse under her and reached out further. Two almost identical pulses both powerful and strong but complete opposites, two sides of one whole, Sonal and Varan, their hearts beating as one, Varan seemed linked to Jed somehow and through Varan, Sonal, confused, she tried hard to follow the faint traces of life flowing between the pair.
As she tried to go deeper into their minds to find the source of the link, she suddenly hit a wall.
The Tessellation Saga. Book Two. 'The One' Page 14
