by YatesNZ, Jen
Taur had gone, belatedly, to train with his warriors, something he did less and less of late. She knew he had a need to vent the inner violence she’d sensed growing in him since the news had come of Ianthe’s death. The loss of the ring had merely brought his rage closer to the surface, creating a darkness in him that was new and frightening. The more so in that it matched the darkness festering within herself with the knowledge that the longer she stayed with Taur the deeper was her debt of guilt to the people of Atlantis.
Difleer had stripped and remade the bed and Foab had scoured the floor beneath and behind it. He was now engaged in searching every gladven of the royal apartments while Difleer was sifting through every garment hanging in the royal gerlain.
‘T’aint anywhere to be found, Lady,’ she muttered grimly. ‘It’s like it’s been spirited away.’
Gynevra shivered. Difleer had simply put her own thoughts into words. What could it mean?
‘I’m beginning to think you might be right, Diffie. I swear I was wearing it when I went to bed last night.’
‘Out! I want everyone out now!’
Roaring like the bull he was named for, Taur erupted into the apartments, hair streaming behind him like a shredded flag of black silk and eyes flaring with the intensity of the Sacred Flame. For a moment all were frozen where they stood, then Foab rose from searching the floor behind an ebony clothes chest and Difleer stepped out of the gerlain and moved to stand beside their mistress.
‘Out!’ the King roared again.
Both Foab and Difleer turned to look at Gynevra. She nodded to them to obey, warmed by the knowledge they would defy the King himself if she asked it of them. As the two left, their backs clearly expressing their reluctance, Gynevra raised a haughty eyebrow to Taur.
‘Something ails you, my Lord?’ she asked coldly.
‘You. You ail me,’ he growled, the words burring up from somewhere deep in his massive chest. ‘You beg to leave me. Even when you’re silent I feel the need in you. What of our children? What of the new understanding we’ve given our people of family living? What of the love you profess to have for me? What of the love I have for you? I want no other woman! I will not live without you. You are mine and you will stay with me.’
Rage had touched his dark skin with a ruddy hue but there were stark white lines about his mouth and across his forehead. Gynevra had seen him angry many times but never with this intensity. She refused to allow it to frighten her but nevertheless it took all her courage to throw her head back and defy him.
‘The choice is no longer yours, Taur. I have to go. Your life depends on it; the lives of our children. Yes, I would leave you and our children, the three people whom I love most in the entire world but I do so to save your lives.’
In a movement so fast it was a blur, he was in front of her gripping her arms. Shaking her as if he would rearrange her mind, he growled, ‘By the God’s, Gyn’a, what does it take to make you understand? It will make no difference!’
He held her still and glared into her eyes and she felt his frustration like a laser to her soul. His fingers bruised her flesh.
‘I will never—let—you go. If we die—we die together.’ Dragging her body hard up against his and wrapping his arms about her like bands of iron, he voiced in desperation, ‘I cannot let you go.’
He lowered his head to take her mouth with his.
Gynevra knew he sought to use his powerful attraction for her to bind her to him. He knew the touch of his lips and hands on her body was all it took to close down her mind, to distract her from all but him and her need to be with him.
But she’d fight with all the strength she had for their right to life. He would not enthrall her yet again with the magic of his touch. Violently she struggled against him and the more she struggled the more iron-bound became his embrace.
‘Don’t fight me, Gyn’a, don’t fight me!’
She could hear the desperation in his voice, feel it radiating from him with a ferocity that created hook waves in the ether all about them but she dared not weaken. Not now when she knew for certain this was a time of karma—karma paid or karma made.
‘You have to listen to me, Taur!’
For answer he clasped her head in a punishing grip and closed her mouth with his. Still she tried to speak against him and he ground his teeth against her lips until she tasted blood. Rage, frustrated and raw, vibrated through her from every point of contact and she knew if she continued to fight he would punish her mercilessly and not realize he was doing it. Her warrior had lost control.
Worse, the warrioress within herself who’d finally been touched by the fervor for battle, no longer knew how to stop fighting, nor recognized the need to do so. Freeing her fists she beat at his back. She twisted her head from side to side and when he thrust a knee between her thighs she stomped hard on his toes. It had become a battle in earnest; the outcome easily foredoomed for his strength was many times greater than hers. When he threw her back across the fine Boiche-carved table, flung up her gown and his kirt then thrust between her thighs she continued to fight even though the treacherous flame of desire smoldered explosively in her belly.
With a growl of deepest satisfaction he joined their bodies and Gynevra found herself wondering what it was she’d been so intent on making him understand. What was there to understand but this, the incredible passion that burned between them whenever they touched? As the sensual flames rose to consume them both the world moved and it was a moment before either realized the floor was literally heaving beneath their feet.
As abruptly as they had joined, their bodies were wrenched apart. Taur lurched upright, snatching Gynevra to his chest as the table slid from under and crashed across the room to splinter against the inner rock wall. Every other piece of furniture in the room followed it and he danced drunkenly about trying to keep upright and keep them both out of the way of lurching credenzas and crashing gerlains.
Instead of fading away as it had done many times over the last weeks, the tremor gained steadily in energy until the whole Earth roared and screamed as if in the clutches of a monstrous internal agony, then with one huge convulsion rumbled into stillness.
The passion that had flared between them only moments before was replaced by fear as they waited tremulously for the floor to still beneath their feet. Then with hearts clamoring against their chests they frantically righted their clothes and clambered over the mangled debris of the furniture towards the Great Room of the royal apartments, their mutual need to reach their children as all-consuming as their passion had been but moments before.
‘Ugo! Electra!’ Gynevra sobbed.
In the Great Room they found the furniture in a similar state of chaos and the crystal window with its central inlaid rose of pink, red and purple gemstones shattered upon the floor. A white-faced Difleer was trying to soothe a hysterical Nudon who clutched Ugo to her breast as if some ravening monster had tried to snatch him away. The nursemaid, Ana, cowered against the inner wall with Electra cradled in her arms while Foab was bent over Pog, trying to extract a fragment of crystal from the little man’s cheek.
Taur strode across to Nudon, took his crying son in one arm and wrapped the other around the terrified woman.
‘Calm yourself, Movuon,’ he said gruffly. ‘We are all safe. Gyna—’
He looked around to where Gynevra was taking the screaming baby into her arms, and their eyes met. She could not hide her tears from him.
Gyn’a—I’m sorry—but we need you—
Sucking in a shuddering breath, she nodded and tried to smile her understanding at him through her tears.
At least we’re all alive! Praise be to Ist!
In the King’s Presence Chamber crystal windows had shattered, cracks had appeared in walls and floors, but because it was hewn from natural rock, Heceuda Castle clung tenaciously to its craggy roost. But its people and furniture had been tossed about like leaves in a windstorm. There were many casualties, many people running in fear and
panic not knowing what to do or where to go that they might be safe.
Ugo and Nudon were badly shaken but fortunately had only suffered minor cuts and bruising. With her daughter in her arms Gynevra worked at Taur’s side trying to bring calm and order to a chaos more daunting than anything they’d ever faced. The anger and frustration with which they’d fought each other moments before was forgotten in the face of this new terror.
It was Taur, passing a window now open to the elements, who chanced to look across to the city. A great string of profanities left his lips and all nearby turned to see what new disaster had befallen. Everyone stared in horror at where once the city had draped down the cliff-sides like a colorful veil. Built mostly from blocks of stone, nearly every building had tumbled towards the harbor as if a child had swiped his hand over a stack of toy blocks.
As they stared in trance-like dismay, the first drops of rain fell, the first rain since the thaw of the winter snows. Everywhere groups of people clung to each other crying and talking, sobbing and pointing. Taur clutched Gynevra and his children against his heart then urged everyone back from the gaping windows as the rain quickly built to a steady, pounding deluge.
Staring through the sheets of water falling from the sky Taur knew terror like he’d never known, and knew he couldn’t show it. This was what had been building in him all day and had culminated in his total loss of control with Gynevra before the quake hit. It had been a dread sitting in the base of his stomach and he’d not known how to dislodge it. Now he must transcend it. Now he knew the face of the enemy he could transcend it. For this woman who held his heart, for their children, for all their people who looked to him as King and leader he would—somehow— project calmness and control.
‘I must go down there,’ he said.
Gynevra couldn’t prevent the clutch of her hands at his person. It was convulsive and reactive. Dragging in a slow sobbing breath, she uncurled her fingers from his clothing and nodded her head.
‘Ta’a. You must,’ she agreed. ‘I’ll assess the damage here and start putting things to rights.’
His Queen. She too would do what she must. Bending his head, he kissed her fiercely then said, ‘I love you, Golden One. Remember only this.’
Turning on his heel he left her, the words echoing between them with the finality of a farewell.
Running through the Castle, he rallied people from their shock and confusion, setting them to clearing the debris and tending to the wounded. When he reached the guard room he found as much confusion there as anywhere but was able to muster a small troop of men to go down into the city. Ordering them to make their way to the city center with every speed they could manage, he said simply, ‘I have to get down there now.’
In his mind’s eye he could see the raw, gaping cliff-side where the Temples and Halls of Justice had once stood. His heart felt as if it was torn and bleeding in his chest but he managed to calm himself, close his eyes and concentrate on that part of the city that seemed to have suffered the most.
As quick as the thought he was there with unbelievable devastation all around and rain falling from the skies with the power of the Mt Alti Cascade. It was as if what hadn’t been tumbled by the quake was to be washed into the harbor by the force of the deluge. Taur found himself standing on a pile of rubble of the crushed blue, black and grey stones of the Halls of Justice.
Looking down he saw a hand wedged between two huge slabs of rock, its owner buried somewhere beneath. From the great seal ring on the middle finger Taur knew it belonged to Judge Albyon. Above the roaring torrent of the rain he could hear screams, moans amid terrible groans of agony from all about him. Where to start? What to do?
A poor wretch wedged between two great blocks of stone, screamed in agony, begging, ‘Kill me ‘Kill me!’
For a moment Taur thought of trying to focus the energy to move the stones but it was obvious the man was gravely injured, being almost crushed in half at the waist.
Never had he thought to use the priestly energy that could create fire for anything as destructive as death. But it was the only merciful answer.
Working in a trance-like haze of horror, Taur administered a similar compassionate end to many more of his people as he stumbled from rock pile to rock pile, tears streaming down his face in the rain and great tearing sobs choking his throat. It seemed no one had escaped. Any who still lived were cruelly trapped and dreadfully crushed.
As his own body temperature lowered and the despair in his heart grew, his ability to garner and focus the energy diminished. He must be able to return to Gynevra the moment he felt she had need of him.
Despair was beginning to overtake him when the ground began to shake again. With a terrible sense of futility he knew then all the cili’s dreams and premonitions had been true. Cronos knew where the warriors were he’d ordered to the city; probably still struggling through the debris at the edge of the harbor. As he cast about in an agony of hopelessness a great jolt shook the blocks beneath his feet and he knew he was in danger of being crushed as so many others had been. He needed to get back to Gynevra and his children at the Castle.
He could just see the outlines of its rocky battlements through the driving rain and as he fixed his mind on it a great chunk of the cliff-side fell away taking with it the part of the Castle that housed the royal apartments.
In shock he couldn’t raise the power to apportate. Dragging deep sobbing breaths into his lungs and calling on all the powers he’d learned as a priest, he forced limbs to stop trembling and heart to stop quaking long enough to concentrate on the thought of where he needed to be. It was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do, to be absolutely still in body and mind when every nerve and spark of energy in his being yearned to run and stumble and cry towards Gynevra and his children—and it seemed to take forever but at last he stood in the devastation of the King’s Presence Chamber.
Wounded people sat about or lay on the floor among the debris moaning and crying in pain and fear over other bodies which lay ominously still. Where was Gynevra? Ugo? Baby Electra? Frantically he cast about and asked any who might be able to answer but no one knew where she was. There was little left of the royal apartments, just a great gaping hole where the rain poured in on the devastation and destruction. Had his Golden One and Ugo and Electra fallen to their deaths with the terrible crushing cascade of rock? No-o-o! his heart screamed. It could not be so. He’d not allow it to be so. He was the King, dammit! He rushed through the chaos of the Queen’s Court and on to the outer courtyard.
Pog, his tiny friend and torment, lay still and white against the outer rock wall. Seeing the small body with no aura of life smote Taur deeply. They had shared so much.
His tears flowed unashamedly and tenderly he bent and laid a hand on the still brow. Brokenly he murmured, ‘Farewell, midget. I have had no more faithful servant. I commend you to the Presence of the Gods.’
Turning to the great gaping hole in the side of the Castle, he stared wildly about. Where was everyone? How many had fallen to their death? It was hundreds of gladvenon down to where the hog pens had once been. He began moaning, ‘Gyn’a, Gyn’a!’ over and over and the pain where his heart should be almost felled him. He could not give in to it. He had to find Gyn’a and his children. Stumbling over the piles of debris he stepped out into the pouring rain.
Where would she have gone? He couldn’t accept that she might be dead among the debris that littered the first plateau hundreds of gladvenon below. He asked where the Queen was of anyone he passed. Most just stared at him in shock or whimpered in pain. He was beyond helping or even showing concern. He was driven by a terrible single-minded purpose.
Gynevra. Ugo. Electra.
One minute she’d been standing shouting to Difleer and Foab across the room as the Earth writhed and screeched beneath their feet as if in the throes of a terrible agony and the next they and a huge section of the Castle and cliff-side had fallen far down to the hog pens below. Their screams echoing horribly in her
ears, Gynevra snatched up her children and began to run, Qerlim close at her heels, blindly following the instinct to get down off the cliff-side. As she ran she shouted to all she passed to go to their families. It was all any of them could do now.
Out on the stepped roadway all was a chaos of crying and screaming people running in all directions, animals bleating and cackling, charging and flapping, and water running in great sheets down the roadway and into gaping fissures in the ground. How long before the rest of the Castle fell away into the valley below just as the city had fallen from the cliff-sides and into the harbor?
Taur! Where are you? The devastating thought drew her eyes towards the city where even now he could be crushed by tumbling buildings and rock. With the dense curtain of rain she could no longer see the cliffs over which the beautiful city had draped like a colorful quilt. As pain sliced though her midriff she noted she could only see as far as the Crystal Powerhouse Island and that seemed to have sunk or moved for the Powerhouse lurched at a drunken angle and half the structure was broken away with the sea washing into it.
Stopping only long enough to bind the children to her body with a long head scarf and several lengths of cloth that had once been brave black and gold Nyaldan banners, she ran on down the roadway, a sodden, bedraggled Qerlim loping at her heels. If the Powerhouse was damaged the Energy Web would be deactivated. She couldn’t stay to help anyone. The only thing she could do now was what she should have had the strength to do long since.
She must return to Qurazil.
The ground rumbled and trembled beneath her feet. People called to her and rocks and debris fell around her but she kept running. Her breath came in great searing gasps through her lungs, the children cried and the rain poured down on them as if it would drown them if they stood still. Out on the peninsula leading to the Star Path great waves washed up against the breakwater tearing at her sodden gown and dragging at the children tied against her.
Sobbing and gasping, she came at last to the forbidden place, the place of power, her last chance to redeem herself and save Atlantis. The guards had deserted their posts. There was not a soul to deny her entrance.
