Destined to Fly: An Avalon Novel (15 page)

Change is the essence of life. Be willing
to surrender what you are for what you
could become.

Reinhold Niebuhr

H
er Managing Director has essentially dismissed her, so the technician decides to have a quick coffee as she hasn’t had a break for hours and figures five minutes away won’t do any harm. She had been about to head off when her manager called to say Madame Jurilique was on her way down. She loves her coffee steaming hot and always likes to get the kettle as it boils. This time is no different, except when she begins pouring the water into her cup she sneezes, causing her to drop the steaming kettle. Boiling water splashes over her hands and wrists scalding her skin and leaving her screaming in agony with what looks to be third-degree burns. A member of the management team finds her writhing in pain and, bypassing first aid protocols given her assessment of the seriousness of the situation, immediately summons the new head physician, whom she had had dinner with a few nights ago.

Dr Jade is carefully preparing to administer the sophisticated drugs to his predecessor. He is particularly keen to make an excellent first impression on Madame Jurilique, whom he has respected and admired from the employ of his previous company for many years. He can imagine the risk Dr Votrubec now presents to Xsade, given he knows their formulas and secrets, so Dr Jade justifies his boss’s decision to incapacitate him in this way and surely this will be more comfortable than being bound and gagged, as Votrubec currently is on the other side of the room.

Not bothering to look into the harrowed eyes of the man before him, he measures the exact quantity of the injection just as his pager buzzes its emergency tone. Reluctantly, he carefully replaces the full syringe back on the tray knowing the timing and sequencing of these drugs is the key to the success of this procedure. He reads his message, quickly grabs his medical bag and exits the lab, forgetting to lock the door behind him as he runs toward the emergency.

Josef, though unable to breathe easily through his gag, exhales an enormous sigh of relief. He needs to get out of there and fast. This may be his last opportunity.

Madeleine continues to enjoy the ambience of her daytime respite to the sounds of Rachmaninoff. Dreams about the successful launch of Xsade’s new drug and the appreciative crowd’s standing ovation as
she finishes her speech, dance around in her head and ensure her unconscious state.

The new scientist inductees continue their tour around the facility. As they enter a laboratory where a new chemical compound is being mixed and tested, Salina slips discreetly away from the main group to check the rooms down the corridors for any sign of Josef, keeping her head lowered as she passes a security camera.

She opens a fire escape and quickly moves down the stairs to the next level to continue her search. This place is much larger than she first suspected. There are a few silver-suited volunteers in one of the larger rooms and she apologises and backtracks. Hearing footsteps coming her way she increases her pace as fast as she can without attracting attention, thankful she’s wearing silent trainers and opens the next doorway she can access.

As she closes the door behind her she turns around to see the bound figure of a distraught man, instantly recognising him as Dr Josef Votrubec. Relief and adrenaline flood her body as she races to his aid, swiftly undoing his bonds with a slice of her pocketknife. She cautions him to silence before flicking the light off as they hear footsteps shuffle past the door. The door handle turns and they both freeze in horror until they hear a voice declare, ‘No, this can’t be the room, it must be the next one.’ Both breathe a collective sigh of relief as the door closes again.

‘My name is Salina, I’m a friend of Dr Quinn and Dr Blake. I am here to get you out,’ she whispers to him.

Josef will take all the help he can get to avoid the drugs that will render him totally immobile. ‘Thank you. They will be back any moment, we need to get going now.’

Salina notices the cut on his cheek and the bruises on his wrists and forearms before throwing him a lab coat.

‘Are you hurt? Will you be okay to walk?’

‘Yes, I’ll be fine. But neither of us will be if they catch us in here when they return. I know an emergency passage out of here. Follow me.’

Just as they are about to open the door to check if the passage is clear they hear a massive explosion above them, followed by silence, then the sound of screeches and screams.

Salina is not wasting a second. ‘Go, I’ll follow you.’

Josef grabs hold of her hand and they stumble along the corridor, before disappearing entirely from the view of the security cameras as they slip through a white door that will eventually link them to the same route on which he took Alexa. The building rocks from another explosion before evacuation alarms are sounded and they immediately increase their pace, their senses heightened by fear for their lives as they prepare to take flight up the spiralling stairs to higher ground.

I
t takes me a while to re-establish my connection with the past world again, but I’m more confident this time, knowing a little more what to expect from such strange sensations. As I float above the land, scanning my surroundings, relief washes over my being as I eventually sense where I need to be and allow the vision to draw me in once again.

The soldiers take Caitlin to a large town to await her fate — whether she is to be declared a witch or not after her mother was burned at the stake. She never knew such a world existed outside her small village.

Alone, and with a leaden heart, she is still overwhelmed with grief when she is brought before the high priest, who is draped in incredibly ornate garments
that she’d never imagined could exist. He declares that now she has been separated from evil, her hair should be shaved and she should earn her penance as a slave to god. So long as she shows no sign of witchcraft, her life will be spared, otherwise her death will be necessary to ensure her salvation.

She is taken away and locked within the walls of a monastery where she is told she will remain for the rest of her living days. Put to work as a maid for the church, she does the cleaning, washing, assists in the preparation of meals and serves the monks. She is not to speak, only to be spoken to. She is not allowed to make eye contact with anyone she serves, in case her potential for witchery curses others. Her lonely life continues without pity or love and her heart continually aches for the loss of her mother. Over time, her hair returns to its original length, although it must always be kept in a tidy braid and hidden behind linen.

One evening, in bed and exhausted yet again from the relentless daily grind of her work, visions flood her mind as she remembers the sight of her mother in the clearing, her legs spread apart as she lay on the surface of a rock, allowing people from the village to kiss her most private parts. She recalls their reverence toward her mother and tries to reconcile this with the teachings of the church she now finds herself confined within.

A tear falls from her eye in memory of the loss of her cherished mother, as it does most nights. Tonight, though, for the first time, she allows her hands to wander to her own private place between her legs. Her
fingers fondle shyly into the deeper layers of her flesh and she feels her opening moisten in response to her touch. This feeling soothes her, connects her to her core, more so than anything she has experienced since being taken away. As her fingers continue to caress and play they discover a secret point of pleasure and she gasps aloud at the heady sensation.

These feelings temporarily subdue the inexhaustible pain and cruelty she has both witnessed and experienced in the recent past and for a brief moment, she allows her mind to be set free as a fragile cry escapes her lips through the door of her dormitory.

Within minutes of this occurring, a figure runs toward her, towering above her bed in the darkness and grabs hold of her hands. Caitlin screams with fright as her wrists are roughly seized, the evidence of her grave sin immediately exposed by the slippery fluid on her fingertips.

‘You wretched, evil girl … after everything we have done for you.’

Her arms are stretched and bound above her head, and attached to a ring in the wall. A cloth is stuffed in her mouth and secured with a rag tied around her head to subdue her cries lest she disturbs the other servants.

She spends the rest of the night trapped and shivering, unable to sleep due to her fear of what may become of her in the morning, yet unsure of exactly what she has done wrong.

Hours later, Caitlin struggles to see what is going on when she hears the old priest talking to someone as
he pauses at the doorway. ‘She can no longer remain here. She is dirty in the eyes of god and her mother declared a witch. It’s an intolerable situation. Any ordinary form of work is now out of the question. Her sins are an abomination.’

She strains to see who the old priest is speaking with and recognises a well-dressed man, whom she has served on numerous occasions when he has dined with the priests.

‘What will become of her, Father?’ The man’s voice is gruff but his accent is educated. He is not young, nor old but always immaculately attired.

‘We may be able to torture the demons out her, and should she repent before God she may undergo some cleansing. This has worked for some but it may take many years. My fear is that the rack will do her no good as, now that she has engaged with the devil, there will be no stopping her attempts at deceiving others in her witchery.’ There is a pause and Caitlin’s nerve endings remain on high alert. ‘I feel the only option is the wheel. This way we’ll know one way or another whether she be witch or not. God will either have mercy on her and grant her salvation at the gates of heaven or she will descend into the depths of hell where quite probably she belongs.’

At these words Caitlin screams into her gag and thrashes her body wildly, causing her nightshirt to rise up high on her thighs. She has learnt from her time here that barely anyone survives the wheel, least of all a young woman declared a witch. She knows that after
a few turns of the monstrous contraption everyone drowns, particularly as it so often gets stuck and the person tied to it remains trapped under water.

‘She will need to meet death and declare herself before God, just as the flames took her mother. There is nothing more we can do to help her.’

The well-dressed man steps into the tiny room and moves in closer to inspect Caitlin in greater detail, as she writhes on the bed with fear in her eyes. His hand lingers over her thighs under the guise of adjusting her nightgown to ensure her decency, while the priest remains distracted at the door adjusting his robes. She squirms beneath his touch, unable to alert the priest nor prevent the man’s firm fingers pressing into the tender flesh of her inner thigh as she watches him appraising her curvaceous body and pert breasts, his eyes lusting over, rather than making contact with hers. Her muffled screams are barely audible to herself, let alone to others.

‘Would you consider another fate for this sinner, Father?’

‘It depends what you have in mind. She is a risk to society and herself, her urges now proven to be uncontrollable. I caught her in the very act of the forbidden myself, hence her restraints. She cannot be trusted alone, lest her fingers continue to search for the devil.’

‘I see.’ The man, never looking directly at her, ensures Caitlin’s gag is secured before sliding his fingers along her décolletage and deliberately lingering
over her breasts. The slightest of smiles quirks his lips as Caitlin’s body freezes in fear, her nipples responding uncontrollably to his touch.

‘She would need to be securely bound at all times, to give her any hope of salvation. Given her lineage, we already know she is unfit to be wed and to reproduce.’ Reluctantly removing his hands from her body, the man continues his discussion.

‘On the condition that I keep her restrained, and away from society, would you consider allowing me to resolve this quandary for you?’

The priest contemplates this offer for a moment; it would certainly save him a good deal of paperwork. The Church authorities aren’t so quick to burn the condemned these days without due process being followed. He also has no mind to deal with another young, vile creature and her tireless screams, begging for forgiveness when being tortured, which of course comes far too late. The evil has already possessed their souls and the noise just gives him scorching headaches. The men exchange looks that indicate a deal sealing her fate could potentially be brokered. Caitlin, desperate to hear what the men are discussing, lies silent and still, her eyes wide with alarm.

‘She would need to be permanently marked, to readily identify her as unclean to anyone who happens to cross her path.’

‘That could certainly be arranged, Father, though the fewer who come in contact with her the better from my perspective,’ he reflects, returning his gaze for one
last salacious glance at Caitlin lying helplessly on the bed. ‘Perhaps an additional offering for the restoration of the church’s altar in preparation for Easter may help lift her bevy of sins.’ The priest has been hoping to restore the altar for many years, but funds have needed to be allocated elsewhere and Easter has always been the most sacred of events in the church’s calendar.

‘That’s a fine idea. I do believe we could certainly come to some suitable arrangement. God bless you for your kindness and generosity to the church. I just pray our Lord recognises your goodness at the gates of Heaven.’

The men converse with ease as a chill descends on Caitlin’s body and she begins to shiver from head to toe.

‘One more thing,’ the priest adds as they turn to leave. ‘Never look into her eyes, they will trap you in their evil. It has happened before.’

‘Thank you for the advice, Father, I shall take heed.’ He picks up a hessian sack from the floor and as if to prove to the priest how sincerely he takes his words, fully covers Caitlin’s gagged face before leaving the room. ‘I shall send my men to collect her later this morning.’ They close the door behind them leaving Caitlin trembling with the fear of her unknown future instead of the fear of death.

Caitlin has no idea where she is. She arrives at her new destination in the same state she left the monastery.
The only words spoken to her during the transit involved the new rules that would govern her life. They involved addressing her new owner as ‘master’ at all times when being spoken to and facing the wall with her eyes closed whenever anyone enters the room.

Her hands remain bound together in front of her and it isn’t until she hears the door close behind the men who fetched her from the monastery, that she dares attempt removal of the sack covering her face, along with the stuffed handkerchief in her dry mouth.

Hungry and desperately thirsty, she gasps in relief as she notices some water and bread on the bench, devouring both in seconds. What is to become of her now?

She eyes the dark room cautiously; there are no windows and she looks to be in a stone basement of some kind. There is a wooden ladder attached to the wall connecting with a horizontal door that seemingly forms part of the floor above. There is no handle and no means of escape. She huddles into the cold corner of the room in despair, wondering how her life has turned from such light with her mother to such desolate darkness in such a short space of years.

Someone enters the cell and Caitlin cowers in the corner covering her face with her hands, not knowing what to expect. She hears her new master’s voice at the same time as she feels his firm hand grasp the back of her neck, lifting her to a standing position facing the wall. Before turning her around a soft black hood is placed over her head. Fear of the unknown ripples
through her body as she detects the smell of molten iron wafting around her cell. Held in place by her master, she feels a rough hand grasp each ankle as she listens to the conversation unfold between the two men.

‘Neither the Church nor God would ever forgive me should she escape,’ her master explains. ‘One as dangerous as she, the daughter of a witch no less, is intent on practising her craft.’

Caitlin feels heat in the room, then feels the heavy wrought iron being clasped around her extremities. She notices that, at the mention of the word witch, the tension with which the blacksmith is working tightens around her flesh as her new master continues chatting to him.

‘Her wrists and ankles will be forever bound and chained within these walls in order for her to repent her wicked life.’ His message is loud and clear as though he wants to assure the blacksmith how seriously he is taking the words of the priest. Caitlin’s movements become severely restricted by the addition of heavily-weighted chains put into place by these God-fearing men. Her body remains limp and despondent as she wonders how her life turned into such a miserable existence.

Caitlin implicitly understands from overhearing her master that he appreciates his elevated position within the Church’s community and will do anything to ensure this continues. He bids the blacksmith farewell and returns to her. Running his hands along the curves of her body as he attaches her bound wrists to the wall
he whispers close to her ear: ‘You understand that your life belongs to me now, don’t you, my pet?’ Petrified at his proximity she is unable to respond.

‘Answer me,’ he says in a low commanding voice as his fingers gently caress and stroke her neck and shoulders. Caitlin has never been this close to a man, let alone been touched by one the way he has touched her. Her mind is in a spin as his musky, sweat-filled scent permeates her senses.

She tentatively nods her head, not wanting to say the wrong thing.

‘Speak, my pet, and answer me knowing who I am to you.’ She can’t help but scream into the cell as she feels a sharp bite as he takes her flesh between his teeth on her lower neck. Caitlin quickly tries to ascertain the meaning of his words before replying.

‘Yes,’ she pauses before adding, ‘master.’

‘Good, pet. You learn quickly.’ His caressing fingers return to her available body as she remains hanging. She gasps as he unbuttons her shirt and releases her breasts one at a time. She can feel the bulge in his trousers against her but doesn’t understand why it is hardening against her.

‘My job is to remove your witchcraft, which have no fear I shall take seriously. Your job is to accept your fate and your new life. I own you and your body from this moment until you die. Do you understand what this means?’

She feels his breath on her back before he turns her around, her arms still bound above her head and
attached to the wall. Guilt, shame, and humiliation course through her as she grapples with the pleasure she feels as he fondles her breasts. She can’t reconcile any of the wild emotions rushing through her as her palms break into a sweat. She loses all concept of coherent thought as her body responds to such previously forbidden feelings. He pinches and twists her nipples, which sends a sharp, shooting sensation through her entire body that immediately tightens in her lower belly, her body involuntarily thrusting against the wall as she gasps at the painful shock of it.