Betrayal (40 page)

Tor was thrown. Solyana had told him this woman was a hermit. He had expected someone more reclusive.

‘You are the holy woman, Arabella?’

‘There is no other,’ she said. ‘Come. Let us break some bread together.’

They shared a light meal. Her food was delicious and the conversation naturally turned to the marriage.

‘We have no ring.’ Alyssa sounded apologetic.

‘We don’t need one, child,’ Arabella said kindly. ‘A ring is symbolic, nothing more. But if it makes you feel better…’ She slid a hand into a concealed pocket in her robes. ‘Perhaps this might suffice.’

She handed Alyssa a tiny ring made from thin, plaited grass. It was exquisite.

‘It will do very well,’ Alyssa said, her delight obvious.

They hugged like old friends. As Alyssa loosened her grip and turned to Tor, Arabella’s hand slipped to the girl’s belly.

‘Don’t be afraid,’ the holy woman reassured. Slowly and gently she touched Alyssa’s belly, her face all concentration.

Silence gripped the forest. Cloot landed on Tor’s shoulder, breaking the tension for just a moment.

Suddenly Arabella fell to her knees. ‘It has happened. We are saved,’ she shouted into the treetops. ‘Alyssa is with child!’

Alyssa had one more surprise to savour that afternoon.

Kythay carried the bride on his back with the groom walking alongside, his falcon friend on his shoulder. The creatures of the Heartwood came to meet them, lining the pathway which seemed to miraculously unfurl ahead of them and close behind them. The sun was setting but the canopy of trees had brought the deepening towards evening much earlier. Already the Flames of the Firmament with their new
brilliant cacophony of colours, were glowing luminously against the darkening backdrop. They chimed and danced around the newlyweds.

Tor and Alyssa could see Solyana ahead, waiting for them. As the flames flew to surround her, the couple could make out that the wolf was accompanied by two people. Alyssa’s heart leapt. It had to be Saxon and Sorrel; yet could it be? The male figure looked too tall to be Saxon.

You’d better prepare yourself for a scene,
Cloot said to Tor.

Tor did not have the time to find out more. He turned just in time to see Alyssa slide off Kythay, pick up her skirt and run.

It seemed impossible, but running towards Alyssa was Saxon. Gleaming golden hair hung proudly in the Kloekish way to his shoulders. He was his full height again, his arms moved freely and his legs had straightened. Tor looked with wonder at Saxon’s formerly blinded eyes; now pale and whole, they were filled with glee.

‘Alyssa!’ Saxon called over and again until she was close enough to hurl herself into his arms. He threw her high into the air, as he used to when she was just a girl and learning the tricks of the circus trade.

Tor felt humbled. He sensed Solyana arrive silently at his side and pushed his hands deep into her fur. He was too choked with joy for Alyssa and her loyal, brave Saxon to speak.

The Heartwood heals its own,
Solyana explained.

Saxon, Alyssa and Sorrel sat together. Alyssa excitedly told them of her day’s revelations—a wedding, a pregnancy. Saxon related his tale of being summoned by a god, Darmud Coril, and the healing bestowed upon him.

Tor stayed with the wolf, giving Alyssa time with her friends.
Solyana, is Arabella one of the Paladin?

She is.

He felt a jolt of excitement. He took another chance.
And Cyrus also?

Yes, Tor.
She sounded pleased that he had worked it out.

So, five more to account for. I will not press you for information, Solyana.

I thank you for this, my friend. You will understand when the time is right, I promise.
She turned her large, noble head towards him.
Lys will not forsake you,
she added.

He nodded. He trusted them all.
Will all the Paladin gather in the Heartwood?

Eventually, yes. There is time yet though before we are complete.

Tor desperately wanted to ask her what their role was before they gathered here, but Saxon and a still weepy, excited Alyssa were approaching and the moment was lost. He had never realised just how tall and broad the Kloek was. He looked magnificently strong and healthy.

‘Greetings, Tor,’ boomed Saxon, loving being able to speak again.

‘And to you, my friend.’ Tor crossed palms in the Kloek manner. Saxon appreciated the gesture.

Sorrel was with them; Tor could not read her expression but did not dwell on it. She was a secretive old girl and this was probably all news to store and pass on to Merkhud at the next opportunity. He did not mind as much as he had thought he might. For the first time in years, Tor felt in control of his life. He did not fear Merkhud’s manipulations.

Saxon clapped him solidly on the back. ‘Well, Tor, I thought my news would be the most astounding for today but it seems you and Alyssa have been busy yourselves.’

His smile was full of wicked humour and Tor joined in.

It was time to celebrate.

Sorrel was exhausted. It had been a long night of revelry and she could not begrudge her companions the chance to engage in some high spirits. The Light knew, they had endured such an extraordinary ordeal to arrive here safely. Regrettably she could not share their joy, though outwardly she pretended to.

Alyssa to have a child.

She shuddered at what the Academie Elders would make of this, but then that life suddenly seemed a long time ago.

She knew she must share with Merkhud this remarkable series of events. He knew only of their
escape from Goth and arrival in the Great Forest; nothing more.

The others slept. The Heartwood was still. She cast, knowing the old man would not be sleeping himself. He answered immediately.

What news, my love? I have missed you.

She felt lifted to hear him speak this way.

Stunning events have taken place since we last spoke, Merkhud. Saxon has been magically made whole again.

Tor?
he asked quickly.

No. The Kloek disappeared some time through the first night. I slept through it, I’m sorry to say, but he tells me the huge silver wolf guided him to the place where magical healing occurred. I know no more.

Did you see this wolf?

I saw her briefly when we entered the forest so I know he spoke true but I have only met Solyana properly tonight.

Solyana!
She heard Merkhud give a rare giggle.

What cheers you, my love?

Your news gladdens me, Sorrel, that’s all.

Well, there are more dramatic tales to tell. I will not linger on the details. You should know that Tor and Alyssa have married.

But how is this possible?

What do you mean, possible? They have exchanged vows in secret. She wears a knotted grass ring to prove it.

So priests roam the Great Forest, marrying couples as and when required?
he hurled back irritably.

Sorrel suppressed the instant rebuke which sprang to mind. She kept her voice steady.
No. There is a holy woman apparently. A priestess whom Solyana knew of.

Tell me her name is Arabella, Sorrel. Confirm it!
he ordered, suddenly more excited than she had ever heard him in their long life together.

It is true. I heard them speak of her as Arabella.

There was silence but she could tell the link was still open. She held the pause until she heard the old man sigh.

Thank you, my love. You bring great tidings tonight. This news will make Nanak very happy.

She did not bother asking who Nanak was.
There’s still more, Merkhud. I hope you are sitting down?
She heard him grunt.
Tor’s and Alyssa’s tale goes that this Arabella became disturbed when Alyssa hugged her. The holy woman asked them if she could lay hands on Alyssa, which she did. According to Arabella, Alyssa is with child.

That’s it!
he yelled and then louder,
That’s it!

What, Merkhud? Tell me.

The Trinity, woman! This is what we’ve quested for. Tor, Alyssa and a child. They form a trio. The Trinity. Why didn’t this occur to me sooner? It’s so obvious.

He began to gabble, running over ideas and scenarios. Sorrel was forgotten in his excitement.

She waited patiently until his ramblings petered out.
What do you wish me to do?
she asked finally.

What are they both saying?

They believe that living in the Heartwood agrees with them. Tor says they should remain in its sanctuary for now, at least until the babe is born. After that, who knows.

Well then, you just stay close. Follow along. As I said before, events are out of our control for now. Perhaps with this imminent birth our part is over, my love, and we can finally lay ourselves to rest.

It was a sad notion but her heart felt strangely glad to hear him say it. Sorrel was tired of her quest.

T
hey had counted eight moons since the day of their marriage. Living in the Heartwood was sublime; after so much adversity in their various lives, the forest’s generosity and the peace it offered was humbling. All became so used to life there that no one, especially the parents-to-be, wished for it ever to be any different.

Tor and Alyssa lived as man and wife in a lean-to created from fallen branches. Their existence was simple and carefree. Sorrel had reverted to her old ways and they saw little of her as she wandered the forest, gathering her herbs and enjoying a nomadic, untroubled life. Saxon lived in another of the humble erections they had crafted from whatever the Heartwood yielded, but he too spent most of his days rambling and exploring.

Although time felt as though it stood still, with one day much like the next, Alyssa’s increasing girth assured Tor that it was passing as swiftly as ever. Their baby grew steadily. Alyssa seemed to glow in her maternal state and all felt confident the birth would be trouble-free.

Arabella visited frequently and her friendship with Saxon and Cloot blossomed. Although all were Paladin, none recalled the other. Vague memories tugged in the darkness of their minds but all had long ago yielded to the frustration of trying to remember. It was Tor who suggested that when their powers were required, they would surface; when their memories of a past became important, they would remember. They agreed and let their restlessness be soothed by this notion.

The Great Forest was so large it was little wonder it took Saxon some time to chance upon the old cart they had triumphantly driven into Sanctuary all those moons ago. At the time of arrival he had grabbed a few necessities, including the old pot they now cooked their food in each day. Anything without immediate value to them, he had left and forgotten about.

He had been gone for an Eighthday stretch when he returned carrying a sack. Alyssa recognised it immediately. She felt her baby kick; it was as though it too felt the anxiety of its mother at being reminded of Orlac.

‘Ho, Saxon!’ Tor called. He was clearing an area beneath two saplings. He intended hanging a length
of cloth between them in which Alyssa could gently rock her newborn. It was thirsty work and he was glad of the interruption. ‘Good to see you back. I’ll be there in two shakes.’

Saxon nodded towards him and approached Alyssa, swinging the sack. ‘Remember this?’

‘I wish you hadn’t rediscovered it,’ she said.

He set the sack down. ‘Then don’t look at it.’

Alyssa ignored it and rubbed her belly. ‘Do I look bigger?’

‘You look enormous. I’d say you have a whole circus troupe in there!’

They both smiled, recalling days which felt like a lifetime ago.

She groaned. ‘I feel so tired all the time.’ She poured him a cup of water. ‘Here, sit with me a while.’

‘I came across Sorrel two days back.’

‘Is she well?’

‘Oh, grumbling as always. She said she would return soon, just in case the baby arrives a bit earlier than expected.’

‘Good. I haven’t said anything to Tor but I’m scared, Saxon.’

He held out the cup for a refill. ‘Of what?’

‘Oh, I don’t really know…the unknown probably. This baby arriving, us living in a forest.’

‘Quieten your fears. Firstly, Sorrel’s an experienced midwife. Secondly, you are in the safest of all places—the Heartwood heals its own, remember.’ He was glad to see a twitch of a smile
appear. ‘Thirdly, you have all the help you’ll ever need.’

‘I know.’

Tor joined them. He looked at the sack. ‘What have you got there, Saxon?’

‘Alyssa gave them to me for safekeeping before we left the Academie.’

Tor looked at Alyssa. She twisted her face. ‘The writings of Nanak.’

‘Ah.’ Tor too did not want to be reminded and changed the subject. ‘The hammock is ready for baby Gynt.’ He pointed proudly to his handiwork.

‘We may be needing it earlier than we thought.’ Alyssa shifted heavily. ‘I’ve had vague pains all day.’

Both men looked startled and this made her smile. ‘Not now, just probably sooner rather than later,’ she reassured.

By late afternoon, however, none of the trio were smiling any longer.

In just a few hours, Alyssa’s pain had escalated dramatically. She paced to ease the discomfort. By dusk she was still walking around but she was tiring. The men now took it in shifts to support her; one resting for a period whilst the other worked hard to hold Alyssa upright.

At nightfall they were all relieved to see Sorrel walk into the clearing. Alyssa had linked to her when the pains were still relatively gentle so the old girl was already making tracks when Solyana, alerted by Tor, had found her. She rode to them on Kythay’s back, curiously swiftly.

Sorrel told the men to make themselves scarce and promised she would call them back shortly. Her midwifery skills would be much in need tonight, she thought to herself, as she discovered the baby was lying in an awkward position. This would be a difficult birth for the first-time mother. She gave Alyssa a draught of something she pulled from her famous old bag. It seemed to quieten Alyssa for the time being and she drifted into a restless doze.

Sorrel immediately gave the two anxious men, who were lurking on the fringe of the clearing, jobs to do. They were eager to be occupied. Tor began tearing up linen for rags; Saxon set a fire and began to warm a pot of water.

Solyana roamed nearby like a shadow and kept the curious creatures of the forest well away, whilst Cloot kept watch like a sentry on high.

Way up in the tallest trees, his intensely sharp eyes could still see his friends clearly. He did not want to be too close to Tor, for all day he had experienced a sense of dread and did not want the feeling to become infectious. Tor might lock on to it if Cloot was nearby. His fear was not about Alyssa and her child; this was a new terror to deal with. No, he was fearful about Goth, who had never given up the search, returning again and again to the area where Saxon and Sorrel had entered the Great Forest.

Cloot figured that Goth believed that if he could just find a trace of the cart or its occupants, then he as good as had Alyssa cornered once more. Cloot had watched the Inquisitor’s progress very closely over
the months since Tor and Alyssa had married. Four separate forays had yielded nothing for an infuriated Goth. And now he was back; this time with men from the King’s Guard in tow. Lorys was obviously being supportive of this venture, Cloot thought. And was it his imagination or was the Great Forest allowing Goth further in than on previous occasions?

Up to now, Cloot had enjoyed watching the vile man being given the run-around by the forest. Paths suddenly showed themselves beneath undergrowth but led nowhere; others looked promising but led back to the same spot where they had originated. Still others took their travellers to waterfalls, or dense growth through which no one could pass. One inspired path even took the Inquisitors to a bare rock face. Oh yes, Cloot had watched and derived much humour from the clever way the trees outwitted Goth at every turn. But this time it was different. Goth had actually made it to the furthest reaches of the Heartwood itself. That’s what was troubling Cloot tonight.

Arabella was not long in arriving. Sorrel was glad of the help of another woman. Together they walked Alyssa around when the pain got too bad.

It was the middle of the night and she had been labouring now for ten hours and there was no sign of the situation changing. Sorrel explained to the others that, of the three stages of a woman’s labour, Alyssa was in the early half of her second stage but was not progressing. The birth process was at a standstill when it should be gathering steam.

‘We’re in for a long night,’ Sorrel warned, not
allowing anyone else to see the concern she was feeling. It was not going well and she feared for the baby’s health. Alyssa, she could tell, was not even close to delivery which meant the baby had perhaps another ten hours to hold its own, maybe longer. Mother and baby would be struggling by then. Sorrel calmed herself, though, trusting the magic which was all around her.

Tor, having long ago exhausted every possible job he could tackle, was now standing nervously in the shadows. He regretted that Cloot had chosen the cover of leaves; he would have preferred the comforting weight of his friend on his shoulder. Both Tor and Cloot were disturbed by Alyssa’s groans; even to their unexperienced ears and eyes, it seemed she was weakening.

Tor tried to offset his nervousness by talking to the falcon.

What news beyond the Heartwood?

You don’t want to know,
Cloot replied, instantly regretting his hasty words.

Tor’s attention was momentarily shifted from the struggles of his wife.
What do you mean?

That slipped out. You’ve got a lot on your mind, Tor. We can talk about it later.
The falcon was anxious to find something else to talk about.
Shall we check with Sorrel?

No, Cloot. I can see that Alyssa hasn’t improved. Tell me what you’re trying to avoid discussing.

Cloot was trapped. Tor heard his sigh across the link.
Goth is roaming the Great Forest. He has a special troop of the King’s Guard with him.

How long has he been here?
Tor’s insides felt suddenly loose. Goth did not scare him but he knew how much the Inquisitor terrified Alyssa.

Five moons,
the bird said softly.

This time Tor didn’t bother with the link. ‘What?’ he roared.

Everyone turned to look at him; even Alyssa, in her pain, glanced over. He waved away their enquiries and stepped deeper into the shadows.

What in Light’s name are you talking about, Cloot?

Don’t make me repeat it,
Cloot replied, embarrassed.

When did you plan on telling me?

When the child is born.

If it ever gets born. Goth will probably kill it even if it does.

Enough, Tor! Goth won’t find your child. The Heartwood will protect you all. It’s already given him the run-around for all this time. But who could have counted on his determination to find you? He is a man possessed.

So what do we do?

Nothing for now. Just concentrate on your wife.

Alyssa shrieked and all conversation stopped. Tor rushed to her side. Saxon came running from his quiet spot in the shadows. He was suffering in silence too.

Blood was gushing from beneath Alyssa’s shift. Sorrel was pale and the face of the normally unflustered Arabella was etched with worry.

‘This is a bad sign,’ Sorrel growled. She no longer cared about protecting anyone from her anxieties.
The blood signalled that death was not far away. There was no way she could lose Alyssa or the precious child like this.

Alyssa opened her eyes as another wave of pain subsided briefly. She gazed at Tor and mustered the barest of smiles through cracked lips. She mouthed the words ‘I love you’ and then a fresh torrent of pain hit her hard. More blood gushed and soaked the earth where Tor knelt.

He began to weep. This could not be happening. Alyssa was dying in front of him as she slowly lost the battle to bring their child into the world.

‘There is nothing more I can do,’ Sorrel said helplessly. ‘Only a miracle can save the baby. Alyssa may already be too far gone.’ She voiced what everyone suspected.

‘No!’ shouted Saxon, fighting what he knew to be true.

Tor regained his composure. His mind raced as he looked around him. Solyana had padded up and was standing next to Saxon. He looked down at his wife again; she was pale, bleeding, lifeless. This is how her own mother had died—giving birth to her. History must not be allowed to repeat itself. There was no more time to think. Only to act.

Solyana, can we summon Darmud Coril?

‘I am present.’ The great voice spoke aloud. ‘Give her to me,’ he commanded.

Tor and Saxon immediately bent to lift Alyssa but the god of the forest had not spoken to them. Tendrils of vines crept swiftly out of the undergrowth and
wrapped themselves around Alyssa. Leaves and twigs meshed together beneath her and a large, majestic tree bent to tuck its branches gently under the prone figure and lifted her tenderly into the arms of Darmud Coril.

Huge and imposing, the sparkling colours of the forest twinkling around him, the forest god cradled Alyssa as though she was an infant. Instantly the Flames of the Firmament lit themselves and draped about her, chiming so softly. Vines continued to wrap themselves around those gathered there, until all were linked through the god’s power.

Silent awe gripped them as they watched Darmud Coril work the miracle Sorrel required. He began to chant, his deep voice singing a medley of notes which followed no tune. The flames burned brilliantly bright around Alyssa, swaying in time with Darmud Coril’s notes and the trees bent in towards her, whispering.

It was only afterwards that they would confess quietly to themselves that they not only watched but felt the god’s power. Of all of them, only Sorrel was changed by it, though she did not know at the time the good and the bad of it.

The others had to shield their eyes from the glare but Tor stared through the blaze, absorbing the finest details of the powerful magic being poured into his wife and once again storing its combination and scent.

After what felt like an eternity, the flames resumed their normal intensity, the trees returned to upright
and the god of the forest’s eyes refocused on those around him.

He lifted Alyssa to his face and kissed her forehead tenderly before returning her to the tree, which laid her gently on the blanket where she had lain earlier.

‘She bleeds no more and is in the most powerful of all sleeps. In that sleep she will heal but she will recall nothing of this event. Deliver her child, midwife. It comes!’

It took Sorrel a moment to realise the god of the forest was addressing her. She scuttled to Alyssa’s side and peeped beneath her bloodstained garments.