Blazing Earth

by TERRI BRISBIN

  Brienne! William called out to his mate. Looking across the wide expanse, he saw her following Hugh and knew she planned to fight him. But the seer, the daughter of the moon, needed her help now. The fireblood in her seemed stronger somehow. Once the goddess was freed, Brienne had done things he’d not seen before.

  Now she could travel through the air without needing a source of fire to target. Will watched as she flowed much like a current of air across the plain toward him. He began running toward Aislinn when Brienne passed him. Charging the beast himself, the warblood turned his hands into war hammers and pounded into her side. Startled more than hurt, the dragon smiled and inhaled and aimed her foul breath at him.

  The fireblood that was Brienne’s father had burned him once. During their battle to close the first circle, Hugh had attacked him with the flames. He was certain the dragon’s would be fiercer and more dangerous than that. He drew more strength from his powerful blood and prepared to feel it.

  The next moment, Brienne spread herself like a shield before him, her fire protecting him from the dragon’s fire. He could feel her straining to keep a barrier between him and the goddess and he reached out and touched her with his hand. Rather than burning him, it strengthened him and her, for she pushed her flames back against the dragon, sending the creature flailing away, screeching in pain.

  Only a moment later, it reared back and sent a wide burst of fire across the area, catching more of William’s men. Once more, the creature sought out Aislinn, knowing the young woman was at the heart and soul of any plans against her yet. She flew up into the sky, fighting off the push of the winds, and swooped down at the woman. The warblood changed his path, too, running to once more throw himself at the beast.

  Aislinn’s guard pushed her to the ground and covered her with his body just as the dragon flew over them, taking the brunt of the attack. Then Brienne formed above them, shielding them. But she could not be both places at once, and the dragon knew that. From her position above them, it spewed fire in many directions until it could not. The warblood took advantage of that momentary weakness to call out his order.

  “Attack!” he growled. “Now!”

  After so long defending against the evil one, it felt good to him to begin an offensive plan. Using all their powers and all their strengths and weapons at hand, the Warriors and the humans beat the dragon back away. And as Brienne had suspected, the beast was weakening from so long a confinement without sustenance. Finally, with swords and crossbows, with winds and water and fire and brute force, they chased her out of the clearing.

  Sensing the immediate danger was done, the warblood sank back inside and William spoke. “See to the injured and the dead. We must make plans as soon as we can.”

  “Should I follow her?” Soren asked.

  Looking off in the distance, in the direction that the dragon had flown, William knew it would be easy enough to track her. He shook his head.

  “Unfortunately, she will be easy to find,” he said as Brienne walked to his side. He took her hand and kissed it. “My thanks for coming to my aid.”

  “And mine, my lady,” Brisbois said. His voice startled everyone, for he never spoke first or freely among them. De Gifford’s former torturer nodded at the niece to whom he’d sworn fealty and bowed.

  Will felt Brienne’s discomfort and looked away for a moment at the stones. Elethea stood there, alone, leaning against one of them. He nodded at her and Brienne walked over in that direction.

  “Bring the injured together,” he said. “Set up some tents over there and gather our supplies.” He pointed to a place outside the embankment. “We will see if Elethea will aid us.”

  “Are you certain you want to ask her?” one of the men asked. “She helped open the gateway.”

  Will could not deny her guilt, but he could not be certain he would not have made the same decision if faced with a child of his and Brienne’s being held hostage. “She remains behind when she could have gone with de Gifford and the goddess. Which of you can say you would not have chosen to protect your child if forced to it?” He met the gazes of those around him and nodded. “We will need her help and Tolan’s, if he returns.”

  Will walked off after Brienne and caught up with her as she reached the standing stones. She stopped and did not enter.

  “I can still feel the goddess’s evil here,” she said as he now escorted her in and to where Elethea stood.

  “The chasm remains open. She spent endless centuries in there,” he said. They reached the sunblood, who stared at the ground before her and did not speak.

  “Elethea?” Brienne said, walking toward her. That was when they noticed the body there.

  “Is that Lord Geoffrey?” Will asked, crouching down closer and examining the body.

  A nod was all the response he received. Reaching out to touch the corpse, he found the skin now in thin, dried layers like husks of corn left out in the sun. But whatever had been inside this body had withered and died. All it took was a touch for the whole thing to collapse in upon itself. The flakes were caught by the breezes and carried off like ashes on the wind after a fire.

  Watching her now, Will recognized the expression on her face. Her brown eyes glazed over and her skin was pale. She wore the look of someone who had killed for the first time. He’d trained men for battle and knew that the first kill left them marked by it. ’Twas not his place to speak about it with her—Tolan should do that—so he did the thing he could—he tried to distract her to another task.

  “We have many injured, Elethea. Would you heal them?”

  She startled at his words.

  “You would ask my help? After . . . this . . . all?” she asked.

  “Aye.” Will did not embellish it. A simple request and a simple answer was best at times like these.

  She looked from him to Brienne and then at the place where the body had disintegrated and nodded. “I will help.”

  Brienne wrapped her arm around Elethea’s and began walking in silence at her side. As she passed him, he asked the question.

  “Do you know where Tolan is?”

  She shook her head. “Not here. I cannot feel him any longer.”

  They walked to where the injured had been placed and he watched as her hands glowed. He left her there with Brienne and Aislinn and went to see to his men. Some hours later, as the sun reached its zenith, she yet moved among their numbers, laying her hands on one and then the next and the next.

  But when evening came, she was gone.

  CHAPTER 24

  Thea lost count of those she tended that day. She moved from one to another, guided by Brienne and Aislinn and a few of the other women who oversaw such things in the camp. She did not speak to anyone or even meet their gazes, for she did not wish to see the hatred and loathing that would be there for her and Tolan.

  Other than accepting a cup of water and a crust of bread, she did not stop the whole of the day. She asked no questions and did not remain with anyone too long. But mostly she stayed that busy to avoid thinking on what she and Tolan had done.

  Oh, their actions had been for a good reason, the best really, but the results were catastrophic—an evil goddess in the form of one of the deadliest creatures possible now roamed the lands. Kirwyn died in spite of their attempts to prevent it. Tolan had disappeared into the earth.

  And she had murdered someone.

  To anyone watching, it would have appeared as though she defended herself against Geoffrey’s attempts to take her to his cousin. And that was how it began.

  Before her anger rose.

  And her loathing for what they had done together.

  When she reached out and grabbed Geoffrey’s arm, at first to push him away, it became something else. In her mind, she knew they had sinned. If she accompanied Lord Hugh to the goddess, Thea knew she would do worse things than she’d done here today.

&n
bsp; She felt Geoffrey’s life within him—the beating heart, the breathing lungs, the pumping blood and more—and wished for it to be gone. She sensed his own light shining within him and snuffed it out like a candle, drawing all the heat and warmth from it until it sputtered out and died.

  As he did.

  She turned onto her knees and vomited in the grass there. Her stomach clenched and she retched long after the meager food had left her. When she sat back, someone handed her a wet piece of cloth and she wiped her mouth with it.

  “I have been told by one of some skill that you should rinse with this but not swallow it right now,” Aislinn said, offering her a cup of water. She followed the instructions, knowing the truth of them.

  “Who is the skilled one?” she asked, looking up at the young seer.

  “Enyd,” Aislinn replied. “One of those who traveled from the island with us.” Aislinn looked in the distance where the priests had gathered. “She is the tall woman, with pale hair.”

  “Well, she is well learned if she gave this advice.”

  Their trite conversation at an end, Thea watched as Aislinn prepared to say something of import to her.

  “The others have told me that they can feel the others of the bloodlines. More their mates, but also the others.” Aislinn met her gaze then. “Can you sense Tolan? Is he . . . alive?”

  Thea closed her eyes and tried to find him. He was not nearby. Or was he . . . dead? Nothing. It was as though all the lands around them were as empty as her own heart was right now.

  “I . . .” She could not speak of him.

  Aislinn laid her hand on top of Thea’s in a comforting gesture, one she would have done to those she helped or healed. But the kindness was too much. The woman seemed to understand, for she stood and turned to leave.

  “We had no idea when we left the island what we would find. For all our lives, we were taught that those designated as Warriors of Destiny would be gods made anew on earth.”

  “Are you disappointed to find we are more human than godlike?” Thea asked. What a failure they must be to these faithful people who worshipped their ancestors for so long!

  “In truth, I am in awe of you, of all of you,” Aislinn said. “You have inherited a great power that you had no idea about and that could make you more than you are.”

  “And what are we now?” Thea asked.

  “People who are trying to do the right thing for the rest of humanity. In spite of a lack of knowledge. In spite of a lack of faith. You have accepted this burden and you keep going even while you struggle with the power you have.”

  Thea looked at the woman now and noticed the silvery glow pulsing faintly around her. Even her eyes had taken on the color of the moon. Had she some power flowing through her veins as well?

  “You felt the other part of your power this day. Each of the bloodlines has a power that can help and can hurt. It is the balance that you must seek.”

  Did she know? Did she know that Thea had killed today?

  “Aye, I know the choice you made and the price you pay even now,” Aislinn whispered. “Others have had to face that same choice. And you may yet again. But do not let it break your spirit, Sunblood. There is yet much for you to do.”

  The seer walked away then, leaving Thea to the solitude she’d sought when she was no longer needed. A tingle teased her then. An awareness of . . . Tolan. She stood and looked about but did not see or hear him. Was he within the earth as he had done before? Pressing her hand to the soil, she tried to sense him.

  It was only when she looked off in the distance that she realized where he was. And she found a horse and went to him.

  * * *

  Thea lifted the latch and entered quietly, not knowing what she would find inside. Oh, Tolan was there now, but in what condition she knew not. She used her power to bring some light to the cottage so she could find her way around it. Her visit here had been brief and had only involved this chamber. Glancing at the back, she knew she would find within that room.

  And so she did.

  He sat with his back to her, on the edge of a raised pallet. His shoulders hunched over and an air of desolation filled him. His grief was so strong that the aura that outlined him was dulled somehow. This usually vibrant, strong man who moved among the villagers with ease was now broken by sorrow. Thea walked to him and placed her hands on his shoulders.

  And that was when she saw Kirwyn’s body there on the pallet. She’d heard Tolan’s cry when it happened, but she had not seen the boy’s death. His body lay there as though he slept.

  “He told Hugh he would be a pawn no more, Thea.” Tolan’s voice cracked as he said it. He reached up and touched her hand, sliding his fingers around hers. “He fought off the fireblood who had tormented him so.”

  ’Twas then she saw Kirwyn’s hand, a lump of mangled and melted flesh that would never heal now. How Kirwyn had managed to stay conscious was beyond her. That he fought with Hugh in the face of such agony spoke well of the boy’s courage. Her tears fell freely then, mourning the young man’s valiant refusal to be used against his father as a hostage.

  All for naught.

  All for naught.

  Tolan tugged her to him, pulling her around to sit on his lap there as he poured out his grief. His sobs were silent, but she heard them welling from deep within his soul. He wrapped his arms around her and she held him tightly.

  She could have given him solace and relief, but somehow it was wrong not to let him grieve in this way. He needed to release the pain and honor his son’s actions. Or there would be no time when he could forgive himself for the boy’s death.

  They sat there in silence for some time after the tears ceased and she waited for some sign that he was ready to talk. Finally, he lifted his head and kissed her.

  “I tried to save him, to bring him back to life,” he admitted. “I thought if I took him into the earth, to where new life is beginning, he could absorb some of it and be alive again.” He rubbed his hand across his eyes and laughed bitterly. “But my gift for bringing fertility and life to the lands does not extend to my son.”

  “If I could, Tolan,” she began. The thought had crossed her mind as well, since the sun gave life. Mayhap if she laid hands on him and gave him some of her life’s force, it would bring him back?

  “Nay,” he said, shaking his head. “We have played gods too much, Thea, and interfered when we should not have. This is the price I pay for my arrogance. This terrible price . . .” His voice shook then and he stopped.

  After a few minutes of quiet, she slid from his lap and knelt there at Kirwyn’s side, praying for his soul and for forgiveness. It gave her some comfort to use the words and prayers with which she’d been raised.

  “I would bury him next to his mother so that she might watch over his soul,” Tolan whispered then.

  “A good place for a boy to be,” she said. Her barrenness did not mean she could not understand a mother’s love. “May I clean him?”

  Tolan did not answer, but he moved aside for her to get closer. She went and gathered a bucket of water and some cloths from a trunk. It took some time, but with Tolan’s help, she washed Kirwyn, removed his bloody clothing, and dressed him in a pair of breeches and a tunic that Tolan found there.

  They said nothing, but Thea found herself softly humming the melody she’d heard Linne sing to her babe as she prepared him to be buried. Tears fell as she finished, wrapping him in a blanket and stepping back so Tolan could take him.

  It wasn’t right. A father should not bury his son. If only they had . . . If only they had not . . . She tried to be strong for him when she wanted to sob in sorrow.

  “Would you want a blessing prayed for him before you take him, Tolan? I could seek out Father Ander or Corann if you wish.”

  “Aye,” he said in a toneless voice.

  She left him there to grieve alo
ne while she rode back to the camp the others had set up. But when she returned, it was not with only the two priests.

  * * *

  Tolan felt them coming and walked out of the cottage. Instead of bringing only the two priests, as he had when he left Thea in the woods, she returned with everyone. The priests, the Warriors, the soldiers, the others—all who had witnessed his betrayal of their quest and his greatest failure. And yet he did not feel their censure as he surely deserved. He felt their sympathy and their grief at Kirwyn’s death.

  Father Ander and Corann, followed by Aislinn, entered the house after asking his permission, to give a blessing there. The rest stood beside him and at his back waiting for it to be done.

  There had been such loss among them, this day and during their previous battles, and no one was untouched by grief. And yet they fought on and now they stood here accepting him and Thea after their weakness. What a fool he’d been to think they could somehow outsmart this great evil by themselves!

  The priests and Aislinn came back out and walked over to him. Aislinn did not hesitate; she approached him and pulled him close in a hug, offering him words of sympathy. She was but the first, as every person there—be they man or woman—came and said something comforting. Even the other Warriors had offered their support before stepping away.

  “Do you wish us to take him to the graveyard?” Father Ander asked. “We could see to it in the morning.”

  “Nay,” Tolan said. “I will take him now.” The priest nodded and stepped out of his way.

  Entering the house once more, he placed the last fold of blanket around his son’s face and lifted him into his arms. Carrying him outside, he nodded to Thea and then entered the earth. He traveled along the road and paths that Kirwyn had walked, through the village and finally to the entrance of the graveyard on the edge of the village. Rising from the ground, he walked to the row where Corliss had been laid to rest and he stood there for a few minutes, holding his son for the last time.

  Tolan asked the soil to open and it did. Finally, because every second of holding him made it more difficult to part from him, he knelt down and laid his son in the grave. Though he could have moved the earth to cover Kirwyn with his thoughts, he did it with his hands, scooping the loose soil into place and pressing it down securely around the boy. When it was done, he stood and walked away.