by Travis Perry
The sitting room was furnished with several plush chairs, but Alastair shied from sitting. It was not his place to occupy such a seat.
There was a ruffling of clothing from the doorway. Alastair turned. Lord Gareth. Pastor Bryan stood a pace behind him.
“Now then. Nasty business this is,” Gareth said.
Alastair bowed his head slightly. “Thank you for seeing me, my lord.”
“Think nothing of it. You have been a good worker like your father before you. I know this is difficult for you.”
“My lord, I wish to request that Lynessa be allowed to stay here in the village.”
“You know that is not possible.”
“I know it is customary to send the cursed to a camp, but if she were to remain here, we could—”
Lord Gareth raised his hand—a well-known signal for silence. Nobody ignored such a sign.
Pastor Bryan stepped forward. “It is not just a custom, Alastair. It is law.”
“Whose law?” Despite Alastair’s best efforts, his voice rose higher than was appropriate for a hand.
“The law of Jesu Christu,” Bryan said. “Scripture teaches us that light and darkness can have no fellowship with one another. They must be kept separate.”
“But there is nothing dark about Lynessa.”
“On the contrary. She has been cursed by God. She must leave.”
Alastair appealed to Lord Gareth’s eyes. “Please, my lord. I beg of you. Overrule this decision.”
The lord shook his head ever so slowly. “I am afraid I cannot do that. I wish I could, but Pastor Bryan is the authority when it comes to moral and spiritual matters.”
Alastair ran his hands through his hair. There had to be some way to convince them.
“I understand how much this young woman means to you,” Lord Gareth said. “I have already decided that Waleran will escort her to the camp. She will be safe with him. However, under the circumstances I would be willing to allow you to accompany her as well. It could be a chance to say goodbye.”
A tear streaked down Alastair’s cheek. It didn’t matter.
Do you accept my offer?”
What more was there to say? Gareth would not be swayed. Alastair nodded. “I accept, my lord.”
• • •
Alastair held the reins, his knuckles white, as the beast trotted beneath him. Clop clop clop. It was kind of Lord Gareth to allow them the use of the horses. At the beginning of the trip Alastair had not been an experienced rider, but after eleven days he was much more confident. If only the lesson had not come at the expense of a sore rump. Waleran seemed to be having no trouble riding. He was a natural. The only thing that made this trip bearable for Alastair was Lynessa’s arms wrapped tightly around him from behind. Even that was an empty pleasure though. Soon those loving arms would be nothing but a distant memory.
The countryside was pleasant enough. Under different circumstances this ride here would be cause for delight. The road wound through plains carpeted with grass and red rocks. Ahead of them, the Eos Chaos Mountains stood like sentries standing guard over the distant Eos Chasma.
“We should drop back to a walk again,” Alastair said. “Give the horses a chance to rest.”
The horses are fine,” Waleran said. “Just relax. You’re doing a good job.”
In truth it was nothing to do with his skill at riding. Alastair just didn’t want this journey to end. Once they reached the camp he would have to say goodbye to Lynessa.
“At my estimate we reach our destination before nightfall. If we linger we’ll have to make campment again unnecessarily.” Waleran spurred his horse into a canter.
Clearly Waleran would not suffer his delaying tactics much longer. It was all futile anyway. What difference would another day or two make really? He pushed his own horse forward. Why did Waleran have to come along on this trip? He served little purpose other than as a chaperone. Alastair was all Lynessa needed.
“You’re very quiet,” she said from behind.
Alastair nodded, though she would barely notice it from her position. “I’m just thinking.”
“About my curse?”
“I don’t understand why this had to happen. How are you going to cope?”
“I’m not sure. I’m just going to have to trust in God for the strength.”
Alastair snorted. “Trust in God? Why would you want to trust in a God that cursed you?”
“Jesu didn’t promise us a life free of troubles, he just promised to be by our side through them. You need to trust him as well, Alastair. You need to release me into his hands.”
Alastair gritted his teeth. “I will not trust a god who cursed my beloved.”
“Don’t put too much stock in Pastor Bryan’s theology in this matter, Alastair,” Waleran said. “There are many who would disagree with his interpretation of Scripture.”
“I don’t care about theology or interpretation of Scripture,” Alastair snapped. “I only care that I am being robbed of the woman I love.”
Lynessa stiffened behind him. “Yes, Alastair,” her voice was sharp like a knife. “Because this is all about you, isn’t it?”
Alastair hung his head. Lynessa had a point. He had been so focused on his own feelings that he wasn’t thinking about how she felt. She was the one condemned to a painful death.
“I’m sorry,” he said in a soft voice.
“What do you know of the curse, Waleran?” She asked, ignoring his apology. “What am I going to face?”
“Sometimes the curse can take a long time before it really comes in full. You may have many years ahead of you.”
“But when it does come in full?”
He turned to look Lynessa in the eye. “It can be greatly painful.”
“How painful?”
Waleran hesitated. “I have known some men to fall on their swords to make a quick finish of it.”
Alastair’s heart clenched again. He couldn’t hear this.
“I am so sorry, young Lynessa.”
There was no way Alastair could let Lynessa face such a future alone. If she was forced to live in this camp, then that was where he would live too. He’d stay by her side and comfort her every day. Alastair would not be returning from this trip.
• • •
The small campment looked like any such gathering of people. Tents sprouted randomly throughout the green. There were one or two more permanent structures made from timber and stone. If not for the people, Alastair could have mistaken this place for a community of wanderers. The people gave him no such luxury, however. While a few of them looked relatively normal, many were haggard. All their faces were downcast. As Alastair and his companions approached, those faces that did look up did so with suspicious eyes.
Waleran leapt from his horse and landed gracefully. “I bring you greetings from Garibaldi Manor near the Nirgal River. I am Waleran and this is Alastair. We bring our friend Lynessa—who has recently fallen under the curse—to live with you.”
“What’s the matter?” One of the strangers, a middle-aged man, said, glaring at the newcomers.
“No time for insults or abuse? Perhaps you’d like to kick me in the gut before dumping your garbage.”
Waleran shook his head. “Others may mistreat you because of your curse, but I don’t believe in such behavior. I assure you I feel nothing but sympathy for you all.”
“We don’t need your sympathy,” an elderly woman spat.
Alastair dropped to the ground and offered Lynessa his hand.
“Easy, Alice,” the man said. “We have few enough visitors who don’t despise us. If he really means what he says, there is little reason to insult him.” He walked over and extended his hand to Lynessa. “I’m Desmond. You’re welcome here.”
“Thank you.” Lynessa hugged herself, though it was quite warm.
“We will find you a place to sleep. We tend to house several people to a tent. Misery is halved when it is shared with another who understands.”
&n
bsp; Lynessa nodded and began to follow Desmond.
Alastair stepped forward. “Actually, I’m planning to stay here as well.”
Desmond’s brow contracted.
Alice hissed. “We don’t need you here. None live here but the cursed.”
Desmond raised his arm. “I’ll handle this, Alice.” He turned to look Alastair in the eye. “What you propose is not a good idea. This is a camp for the cursed. If you live among us, you’ll be despised just like us.”
“I don’t care,” Alastair said. “I would be with Lynessa wherever she is.”
“You are married?”
“No,” he said. “At least, not yet. I had hoped we would be in the future, though.”
Lynessa’s eyes brightened, just for a second. Then her face clouded again.
“It’s not just your reputation amongst outsiders. Most here will never trust you. I advise you to return home and forget Lynessa. She will be well loved and cared for in this place.”
Alastair shook his head. A heavy hand fell on his shoulder. Waleran.
“You should listen to him, my friend. Lord Gareth expects us back in twelve days’ time. You can do nothing for Lynessa that these people cannot do better.”
Alastair opened his mouth to protest, but before he could get out his words a commotion arose.
“It’s the healer. She’s come,” a young man yelled, waving his arms above his head. All eyes turned to the far end of the camp. A white-haired woman atop a horse trotted in. She was immediately surrounded.
“Who is that?” Alastair asked.
“That’s Healer Branwyn. She is the one outsider who is welcomed in this place. She comes here from time to time, offering comfort to the afflicted.”
“A healer? Can she heal Lynessa?”
“Easy,” he said. “While it’s true she can heal minor ailments, there is no way to heal the curse. Its stain remains on people until it takes their lives. That is the one certainty we all face here.”
Alastair frowned. He hadn’t really held much hope that the curse could be lifted. Wait—this was an opportunity. He smiled. All he had to do was learn from this Healer Branwyn. If he was able to pick up whatever skills she held, then he could be a permanent replacement here. Unlike Branwyn, he would not leave, but remain full-time. He would be accepted then. He would be able to care for Lynessa.
He took her hand. She turned. “I meant what I said, Lynessa. I don’t plan to leave.” He swallowed. “Will you marry me?”
She glared at him. “Don’t be absurd.” Lynessa yanked her hand from his grip and stormed away, following the crowd gathering around Branwyn.
Absurd? Alastair had offered her his love. His entire life. He was willing to give it all up to stay by her side, and she’d thrown it in his face. His cheeks burned.
Waleran chuckled. “Well…that went well.”
• • •
Night came quickly. The people gathered around a blazing fire. The cursed gave Alastair and Waleran shocked looks when they joined the gathering. Alastair sat quietly, Lynessa on one side, Desmond on the other.
“Most would rather leave us, even in the dark, rather than spend the night amongst the cursed,” Desmond said. “But then most wouldn’t offer to stay here and live with us either.”
“I don’t understand why people hate you so,” Alastair said.
Desmond shrugged. “We are cursed. That is enough. Though many fear they will share our curse if they stay near us.”
Branwyn doesn’t share that fear.”
“No.” Desmond poked at the fire with a stick. “She doesn’t.”
“Have you ever known somebody to be cursed because of proximity to another cursed?”
Desmond shook his head slowly.
“Well there you are then.”
A loud moan punctured the night calm.
“Does that happen a lot?” Alastair asked.
“Often. Poor Alba is in the final stages. She is withered and faded. Her pain is great. Branwyn will do what she can.”
“What does she do?”
“Offers medicine. Speaks kind words. Prays.”
“What kind of medicine?”
“I don’t know much about it, but I know it dulls the pain.”
“It must be very popular around here.”
Desmond shook his head. “Branwyn saves the medicine for only the most desperate cases. The rest of us learn to live with the pain. It becomes our companion.”
Alastair nodded.
“Be aware, this is not the normal pain that people regularly live with. In the final stages, this becomes worse—much worse.”
Alastair’s throat constricted at the thought of Lynessa enduring such a great pain that it must be dulled to be endured.
A few people stirred as Branwyn approached and took a seat on a rock near the flames. “I’ve done all I can for her. The end will come soon.”
A single tear streaked down Alastair’s cheek. He placed a hand on Lynessa’s back.
“I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier,” she said.
“Speak nothing of it. What I said…it was hardly the time.”
“It was sweet, but I can’t expect you to stay here with me.”
“Expected or not, that’s what I plan to do.”
“Can you really watch me wither and die? Can you handle that?”
Alastair looked up at the sparkling stars. “I don’t know, but I have to. There is no other choice. If only there was a way to break the curse.”
Several people across, an excited young voice lifted up. “Tell him about the legend, Healer.”
Branwyn scoffed. “He doesn’t want to hear that silly old story. No sense in getting people’s hopes up.”
“No please,” Alastair said. “What legend?”
“There is a story of a magic that can break the curse,” the boy said, flapping his arms.
Alastair turned to Branwyn. “You know of this?”
She stared at the fire for a few seconds before speaking. “I do. I heard it from Madam Susan, the scholar of the Kingdom of Tharsis.”
“Please. Tell me.”
Branwyn sighed. “It is said that back in the last days of the Time of Magic, there was a man who foresaw the downfall of civilization. He took many magical artifacts, things he considered treasures. He hid them away so they would be safe. He hoped that some time in the future humanity would be ready to understand such things once again.”
“And one of these artifacts could lift the curse?”
“Yes. It is said that it was marked with the sign of Jesu.”
“Does the legend say where he hid these artifacts?”
“Apparently there were many places across the surface of Mars. The only one I know of was said to be somewhere in Argyre Planitia.”
Alastair’s face lifted. “Argyre, that’s, what”—he turned to face Waleran—“a thousand kims from home? We could reach the edge of it in several weeks.”
“Do you have any idea how large an area we’re talking? It’s all dense jungle down there. Only a fool would try it.”
“Are there any other clues as to the location?” Lynessa asked.
“It is said that it was marked by the convergence of three rivers,” replied Waleran while eying Alastair sternly. “That’s all I know. Don’t even think about going on some crazy treasure hunt, young man. You’ll only get yourself killed.”
Alastair gripped Lynessa’s hand and squeezed it. “My beloved. You are right, I can’t stay here, but I will go and find this artifact. I will lift your curse. I swear it, my love.”
Lynessa’s Curse: Chapter 2
Alastair crept around the side of the barn. Whoa, his foot caught something. He grabbed the side of the building to steady himself. He rounded the corner carefully. That was better—a little lighter here. Phobos still shone, like a glowing potato in the pre-dawn sky. The sun would soon rise. By then, Alastair needed to be far from the manor.
The ride home from the camp had been exhilarating.
He’d galloped his horse much of the way. Waleran had struggled to keep up with him, an amusing contrast to the trip there. They’d arrived at midday after just ten days. He’d gone straight to Lord Gareth and been quickly disappointed.
“You’re not an adventurer, Alastair. You’re a hand. Your job is to work my fields, not to go chasing after mythical treasures.”
“Begging your pardon, my lord,” he’d said. “But would you consider letting me? I would repay your for my lost time.”
Gareth had shaken his head. “I have already lost twenty-four days of labor so you could escort Lynessa to the camp, Alastair. You would require six weeks just in travel to and from the edge of Argyre—to say nothing of the time you’d spend wandering the jungle. You’d likely not return. Never in your lifetime would you have sufficient coin to pay the let.”
In truth he hadn’t hoped for much more, but it still hurt. Alastair had bided his time. He’d allowed himself some sleep, both to avoid suspicion but also so he’d be rested for his journey.
Alastair crept up to the barn door and pushed it open. He winced at the creak. Hopefully, nobody had heard it. Everyone in the village should still be asleep. He clutched his small bag of provisions. It was all he could scrounge from his house, but it wouldn’t be enough. Somehow he’d have to find food and water as he went. Surely there were things that could be eaten in a jungle.
Now, which horse to choose? It was all too much of muchness to him. The gray beast he’d ridden yesterday was tied up two stalls down. She’d do.
Something cold and sharp pressed against Alastair’s throat. A knife? His breath caught and his mouth went dry. The knife wasn’t pressing hard but it dug in deep. Alastair froze.
“Not another step,” a voice whispered from behind. He knew that voice.
“Waleran?”
“I knew you’d try this. You couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you, Alastair?”
