Destiny (27 page)

‘Rubyn, we shall look to you then, to protect our Queen of Cipres on the journey ahead.’ He said this deliberately, having also noticed the keen interest his son was showing in Sarel. Tor believed Rubyn must be given a mission or they risked his feeling even more isolated.

Rubyn betrayed little on his face at his father’s instructions but chose careful words in reply. ‘I shall consider it an honour,’ he said and dipped his head towards the Queen.

She noticed him for the first time…or perhaps not, Alyssa thought with a sudden insight, as she caught the coy grin, promising something, which Sarel threw his way.

Light! She’s a vixen in a child’s body,
she whispered to Tor privately.

She’s young, I’ll admit, but no child any more, my love. And she’s trying to fill enormous shoes with no experience. I think she’s wonderful. She’ll be good for
Rubyn,
he answered and shot her a brief smile knowing how much of what he had just said would irritate Alyssa.

And what about Locky? Did you not notice his final glance back at her?

I cannot dwell on this now, my love. We have to ensure they all hold on to their lives and must allow them to sort out their hearts.

It was gently said, and Alyssa kept her peace as Tor turned to Arabella.

‘Solyana and I will remain, as always—perhaps, Sallementro, you might care to stay with us and entertain us whilst we wait nervously for our precious ones to return?’ Arabella suggested.

The musician looked to Alyssa. She shrugged, but not unkindly— it told him that this was his decision. He felt cornered. To remain might be seen as cowardly but to go seemed madness. What could he do? Sing them all to sleep in the evening?

It was Saxon who rescued him. ‘Sal, stay. You are no fighter. And we surely need some of us to remain in the Heartwood in case preparations need to be made,’ Saxon said, grinning and getting to his feet. ‘I’m off to gather a few things. I presume we’re headed somewhere too?’

Tor switched to the Link because he did not want to share any of this with Goth, whom he could finally see paying attention.

Sallementro is right. We should allow the persecuted to decide Goth’s fate. Alyssa and myself, accompanied by Saxon and Cloot, will take Goth to this place in the mountains and he will be dealt with. We will return to the Heartwood as quickly as possible. I need everyone to be back here as soon as you can,
he said. They all
nodded.
Cyrus, we have to think about how to get you there swiftly,
Tor added.

That’s easy,
the soldier replied.
Rubyn has this curious habit of travelling amongst the trees. It’s hard to explain, it’s best to demonstrate.

Oh?
Tor said, remembering the incredible enchantment when the trees of the Heartwood had flung him between themselves on his journey towards Caradoon.
How far can you get?

As far as the Forest extends. We can take its northwestern finger which reaches almost to Caremboche. Then perhaps we can buy horses for the remainder of the journey to Caradoon, then on to Cipres by boat.

Sallementro announced that he had brought money. They should use that.

Alyssa voiced something which had been nagging at her since Tor had suggested the journey to Cipres to rescue Lauryn.
It’s just occurred to me to mention the possibility that Cyrus will be recognised by Orlac. He is Paladin, after all, which means the god has already seen him, fought against him.

Tor had not even considered this. Would this jeopardise their plans?

Cyrus rubbed at his short beard.
I don’t think so. The Dreamspeaker, Lys, visited me only once in the time that Rubyn and I were away from Tallinor. During that visit she told me about my role as Paladin and how I had already fought and lost one battle against Orlac. I do recall that she said I am very different in appearance now and that I was even known by a different name. The reason I tell you this is that I believe I can go to Orlac as a stranger.

You are different,
Cloot admitted.
That’s why I did not recognise you the first time we met at Hatten.

Cyrus nodded.
Lys said I was known as Jerome Cyrus to Orlac. That was my great-great-great-grandfather’s name, which, I’m presuming, was bastardised through generations,
he said thoughtfully.
She’s clever, protecting me in this manner. Anyway, Orlac will not know me from the next man.

They said their farewells, Alyssa clinging hard to Rubyn, he permitting it, sensing her despair at losing him again so soon. Tor said little, but a single glance at Cyrus provoked a private response.

I shall bring your daughter…and your son back to the Heartwood. Or I shall die trying.
Cyrus said this to Tor alone and saw him nod in acknowledgement.

Now they had all gathered by the great oak, intrigued, to witness the unique way in which Rubyn could apparently travel.

‘Are you sure we are all welcome to travel in the same way?’ Hela asked, doubt written all over her face.

Rubyn grinned. ‘The trees will protect all of us.’

‘Does it hurt?’ Sarel shared Hela’s reluctance.

‘No. But here, hold my hand. We shall travel together,’ Rubyn offered.

Alyssa glared at Tor, purse-lipped.

I can see this shall be an interesting journey,
Cyrus said to the two of them as he kissed Alyssa’s hand.

Bring them back to me, Cyrus,
she warned.

If only in order to kiss you again, madam,
he replied and pretended to wince at the sharp glance from Tor.

Rubyn held Sarel’s hand and already she seemed very comfortable in his company. ‘We’ll go first. Cyrus, you know the drill.’ He saw his Paladin nod. He glanced towards Solyana but whatever they said to each other was kept private. ‘Take a deep breath, Sarel. It makes your tummy feel odd to begin with.’

He smiled self-consciously at the others and put his arms around her.

Tor watched with fascination as Rubyn leaned back against the vast trunk of the oak and whispered something in an exotic language he did not understand. Immediately, they could all feel the pull of the magic and were amazed to witness branches bend down from the oak and embrace the couple. As this happened, Rubyn and Sarel seemed to blur and in the next instant were gone, absorbed into the oak itself.

There was a collective ‘Ah’ before a hush. They all looked towards the former prime.

‘Our turn, I think, Hela,’ he said, offering his hand graciously, which she took.

‘Light guide you, Cyrus,’ Tor said before watching the same process occur.

And then they were gone.

‘Incredible!’ Saxon muttered.

Indeed,
Cloot agreed.

They made their way back to where Goth was strapped even more tightly against the tree. He had seen none of the first group’s disappearance.

‘A drink, perhaps?’ he croaked.

‘Die of thirst for all we care,’ Alyssa said. ‘When do we leave?’

‘Now,’ Tor replied. ‘Sallementro, you came with a cart, did you not?’

The musician nodded. ‘I don’t know where it is, though.’

I do,
Solyana replied.
There’s Sallementro’s horse and two others which have kindly wandered into the Forest…probably belonging to Goth’s men.

‘That’s all we need,’ Saxon said. ‘Let’s get our prisoner organised.’

‘Keep him tied, wrists and ankles for the journey. I’ll sit in the back with him,’ Tor said.

‘I don’t want him anywhere near me,’ Alyssa admitted, looking at the man who had previously struck dread into her. ‘But I do want to see him die,’ she said, surprising herself by the conviction in her voice.

More farewells and then the Forest opened paths and guided Saxon, who was driving, into a northeasterly direction towards the Rork’yel mountain range.

They had made steady progress, keeping to the Forest which would lead them right into the mountains. The Heartwood itself was now far behind and all of them, bar Goth, felt the loss keenly. Alyssa was grateful when Saxon finally called a halt to make camp for the night. Cloot returned when a small fire was burning and the smell of cooking drifted into the early evening air. He had already fed and set about cleaning himself as he listened to their soft talk. The falcon had ranged high
constantly during the ride and had seen nothing ahead. They were lone travellers on a track rarely used. Few people had reason to head into the complex mountain wilderness and even fewer felt comfortable within the Great Forest. He noticed Goth had settled into a sulky silence, refusing food. So be it. Cloot hoped he could live off his reserves just long enough to meet his fate at the hands of the sentient ones.

‘Did it never occur to you to wonder where those people were sent?’ Saxon asked, as Tor handed him a chunk of the roasted hare.

‘Here’s some bread,’ Alyssa said, twisting off a piece from the loaf which they had found on the cart. All had learned not to question the mysterious ways of the Heartwood.

Tor tentatively chewed a piece of the hot meat. ‘Ignorantly, I suppose, I thought they all died.’

‘So did everyone, I think,’ Alyssa agreed.

Saxon turned and not so much nudged as kicked Goth. His action made the former chief inquisitor wince from the pain. ‘How about you, Goth?’

Goth grunted.

‘Did you know they were taken somewhere?’

‘Yes,’ he replied but did not elaborate.

‘At whose orders…surely not yours?’ Tor blinked with disbelief at the idea of Goth giving a second’s further thought to the lives of the people he had tortured.

Goth remained silent but groaned again when Saxon encouraged him to talk with the toe of his boot.

‘King’s orders,’ he said through the pain.

Alyssa shook her head. ‘Knowing Lorys as I do I don’t believe he would ever have sanctioned the torture. I think
we can safely presume it was an invention and privilege of Goth. As for the bridling of people I’d have to say yes, he condoned it, because he grew up believing sentient people were so dangerous. I know this is hard to understand but I feel if he was aware of the torture, then he taught himself to turn a blind eye. It’s true it’s at odds with how he behaved towards his people otherwise, but fear is a complex master.’

Cloot had listened with interest so far. He now chose to involve himself in the discussion.
I think Alyssa’s right. Lorys lived with an ancient fear. He had been schooled to behave like this—it had probably been drummed into him as an infant that all sentients were evil —but the mere fact that he gave those orders to have people sent to what I presume is a haven in Rork’yel, is an indication of the difficulty he perhaps had in condoning their persecution.

‘Exactly! Thank you, Cloot,’ Alyssa said, chewing absently on a piece of bread. ‘And I’ve been thinking about something the King said. Tor, do you remember that curious message I told you he sent before he died, which made little sense to me at the time?’

Tor shrugged.

‘I do,’ Saxon said, wiping his mouth of the meat juices. ‘Something about giving freedom to your people.’

‘That’s right,’ she said as her mind roamed. ‘It’s bothered me ever since that I didn’t comprehend what was obviously such a private and deliberate instruction. Of all the things he could have said he chose these words:
Forgive me, my love, for leaving you. Find your own people. Free them. Save Tallinor.
Herek told me that Lorys knew he was doomed somehow, which might
explain him asking for forgiveness at leaving me but the rest left me baffled.’

Tor wiped his hands. He had no idea where this conversation was leading. He looked at Goth whose sharp eyes returned the hate as his face twitched in its incessant way.

Alyssa continued. ‘I now believe that Lorys was telling me to find these sentient people. When he referred to my own people, he meant those who are empowered like us.’

Tor nodded. ‘Well, it does make sense now that we know those who survived Goth’s brutal attentions are alive and together in the mountains.’

Alyssa felt a small triumph. ‘I wish Lorys had told me more.’

I think it was a confession of sorts,
Cloot mused. They looked at him perched on his branch; his beak and talons now cleaned from the wood pigeon he had caught expertly on the wing.
You know, a man who foresees his death often feels compelled to rid himself of his secrets…his sins
.

Alyssa nodded. ‘Your falcon is very wise,’ she said to Tor, as she made a comfortable pillow for herself from a cloak.

They slept; Goth fitfully from pain. Only Alyssa dreamed. It was the first time she had heard the voice of Lys.

I presume you have been expecting me?

Not really.
She felt relief but also anger that her time
had finally come. It was a curious combination of emotions.

Why?

Why would I? For many years you have talked to all except me. I presume nothing regarding you.

Are you glad I have come?

Yes.

Will you tell me why?

In order that I can tell you how much I despise you and your manipulations of the people I love.

There was a silence. Alyssa refused to break it. She would make Lys pay—even in this small way—for her control over those she cared for. The silence lengthened and Alyssa believed the Dreamspeaker had disappeared. Still she chose not to make a sound. Just waited, listening.

I believe I do deserve that,
Lys said finally.

And plenty more. People have died at your design.

Lys felt this was unfair but decided not to argue this. She knew Alyssa would have her say.
It was necessary. However, I would never choose it to be so.

Lies! Go away, Lys. Spin your tales for Tor and those who follow you.

Your children are in grave danger.

Not because of me. But because of you and what you make them do.