Destiny (40 page)

The others had finished their meal and had decided to explore the valley with Cloot as a guide. Tor appreciated the time this gave him with Alyssa.

‘You were marvellous,’ he said.

She looked embarrassed. ‘Was I?’

‘Every bit a queen.’ He took her hand and kissed it.

‘I’m not sure I can honestly say I’ve ever felt like one. I’ve always believed I was some sort of pretender.’ She shook her head. ‘I still do.’

‘No, Alyssa. If Lorys was alive I think Tallinor would now be seeing its finest ever times. Nyria…’ he thought carefully first before saying, ‘well, she deferred to Lorys. They came from similar backgrounds and, as much as she had a conscience and loved her people, she was still a privileged soul who could never really appreciate how devastating the inquisitors were to those same people. She hated Goth for sure, but for other reasons. But you brought to Lorys’s reign his true conscience. You are sentient. You are from that same group who had suffered at the hands of Goth and the power he wrought. No.’

He shook his head. ‘Far from pretender, my love. Your were Tallinor’s best queen, albeit short-lived. You would have made important changes…and you still can, through your son.’

She leaned over and kissed him very briefly and then she sighed. ‘I don’t think I shall see him again.’

She tried to smile but her eyes carried such a depth of grief that Tor felt a flash of alarm.

‘What could you mean by that?’ he asked.

She moved to sit within the circle of his arms. ‘I don’t understand it either. It’s a vague but very real feeling—I sense that my time is done.’

Now Tor moved. Swiftly. He was kneeling in front of her and took her by the shoulders. ‘You must not think
like this. Of all of us, you will survive this. You will go on.’ He had never felt such intense fear as he did now.

Now she did smile, fully and in love with the man who held her. ‘I love you, Tor. I always have, but you are a terrible liar. You’ve never been capable of guile.’

His voice had dropped to a whisper. ‘This is not guile. I believe it.’

‘Then this is good for all of us. But I do not feel the same way. I sense something dark and evil approaching. But it is directed at me alone.’

Tor pulled her close. He was shocked. ‘No! Alyssa you’re fearful because of Goth and all that we have yet to do. It is unnerving and I understand how easy it is to frighten yourself.’

She pushed away from him. She said nothing for a moment but stared into his remarkably blue eyes. She had not focused on them so intently for years. Alyssa realised she had forgotten how devastatingly bright they were. Truly the eyes of a god. And the line of his jaw: strong and suddenly no trace of that boyishness about him any more. He was a powerful-looking man. She touched his lower cheek and felt the stubble of a beard. She loved Tor shaved—it showed off his striking looks— but still she rather liked the rough feel of short, tough hair against her fingers.

Tor felt his mind swimming. Alyssa looked as though she was fixing his face in her mind for the last time.

Alyssa! Stop it!

Why?
she asked dreamily.
I don’t want to forget your face this time. I did for a while when I thought you were dead. Not this time though. I want to take it with me where I am going.

Please,
he cried.
Please stop this now. I don’t understand what you mean. Where are you going?

I have to face her, Tor.

Who?

Xantia.

Tor was stunned. He thought that was the name Gidyon had been about to say earlier but he had dismissed it, not wanting to probe his son for more information. But it was true. Xantia was the person Alyssa feared.

But why? How can she hurt you?

Alyssa came out of her dreamlike state. Her look was now hard, unyielding. ‘Not me. My daughter. And I will not permit it.’

‘How do you know she hurts Lauryn? How can you know that she is even near her?’ he asked, fully confused.

‘Because she baits me. She invades my dreams and laughs at me. She is calling me, Tor. And I must go. She has my daughter at her mercy.’

Tor tried to rationalise with her. ‘These are nightmares only.’

‘Stop! You believe your dreams and your visions from Lys. I know what I am seeing in mine. It is real. I feel it in the pit of my stomach. All my instincts tell me she is not so much in danger from Orlac as from the company he keeps.’

Tor did not believe it but he knew Alyssa was set on a course—a destructive one—and he could not allow her to face it alone, particularly in the bleak mood that enveloped her now. ‘Then I will help you.’

At this she turned once again to look at him and her whole expression had softened; melted back to the
gentle one he knew and loved so very much. ‘You cannot, my beloved. This is my final part in this whole scheme. It is my destiny. I must face it as you must face your destiny.’

He shook his head, refusing to accept her words.

‘Poor Tor. You’ve never really understood that neither of us have been in control of our lives since Merkhud came into them. Rue the day at Twyfford Cross when you intervened and saved Marya’s life. If not for that, he would never have discovered us and we would be married and living quietly in the southern shires.’ She smiled very sadly now. ‘But what’s done is done and now we must play out our roles to their end. Lys has her designs for both of us. My mother is cunning indeed. Can you not see? She has never permitted us to be together. And she never will.’ Alyssa stood. ‘Now kiss me once more, my beloved husband, and then we must finish what we came here to do.’

Tor, too rattled to do anything but obey her wishes, stood and held her close. His feeling of helplessness was so great that he took comfort in the only thing he could—her lips and her touch. He lost himself, pouring every ounce of his love into his embrace, willing her to believe him that he would somehow save them both.

Lyam came for them and when they stepped outside, they saw that all the sentient community had gathered. Their faces were grim; none looked at ease with whatever decision had been reached. Tor understood.
These were not cruel people—some of them perhaps, after all these years, were unable to feel the same hate for the pathetic man chained to the post, still cursing and snarling.

Gidyon and the others had gathered near Goth. Cloot was perched above the prisoner. It was a deliberate show of power over a man who had struck such fear into so many.

Lyam addressed them. ‘We have made our decision,’ he said sombrely.

Tor nodded. He spoke loudly so all could hear. ‘This man is guilty of so many heinous acts. It is a mercy to the land to destroy him and I promise you I take no man’s life lightly…not even his.’

He could feel Alyssa rigid by his side. Her gaze was focused on Goth, who squirmed beneath it, ranting his hate for all sentients.

‘Tell us your decision,’ Tor said finally.

Lyam cleared his throat. ‘He must burn as Tallinor pronounced he should.’

‘And may he never find the Light,’ Alyssa whispered for Tor’s hearing.

Lyam continued. ‘It must happen quickly. At sunset.’

‘Will you make the necessary preparations?’ Tor asked, his voice devoid of all emotion now. He knew this was right.

‘They have already begun. At sunset, follow Marya.’

Tor thanked the man and then took Alyssa’s hand and walked to where Goth stood. The former chief inquisitor’s fury was palpable. The sentients began to disperse, uncomfortable with the situation forced upon them.

Tor spoke now for the benefit of his own small group. ‘Be quiet, Goth!’ he commanded and miraculously the man stopped his noise. He eyed Tor balefully, his face a constantly moving canvas of hate. He ignored the others, focused on his enemy and laughed at him. ‘I do not fear you,’ he said.

‘It matters not. I want you to understand that you have been brought here to face your justice, long overdue. You are dead many times over for your deeds, Goth. This is simply the closing chapter in your vile, sad life. Tonight you will die as ordered by the royal decree of his majesty, King Lorys of Tallinor.’

‘And are you my judge and executioner, Gynt?’

‘You were judged a long time ago. I am here only to bear witness to your death.’

‘Leave me!’ Goth spat. ‘I wish no longer to see you or any of your evil spawn.’

Gidyon could not help himself. ‘We do Tallinor a great justice in ending his life.’

Themesius nodded. ‘I’ve known him only days and he makes my skin crawl.’

‘I’ve known him too long,’ Saxon said quietly and then he looked at Alyssa. ‘Tonight he will be delivered.’

As the sun began to lower behind the mountains, Marya came for them once again. ‘It is time,’ she said and everyone stood, their nerves on edge after a day of high tension.

She pointed. ‘When a Brocken dies, he faces west.’ They heard Cloot click his agreement across the Link.
‘We feel it’s appropriate that as Goth will die in the Rork’yel Mountains, he should follow the Brocken way.’

It is too good for him,
Cloot replied for their benefit alone.

‘Follow me,’ she said. ‘Who will bring him?’

‘I will,’ Themesius answered. He strode towards Goth who had been strangely quiet for the afternoon.

Now the prisoner began to struggle at the sight of the approaching giant. He could see his hated enemies watching and he had been aware for some time now of a stream of people slowly and laboriously snaking their way up through the rocks on a track.

Marya looked towards that column of people now. ‘We go to the top of this mountain to pray. It is fitting he goes to the gods from this peak.’

Everyone followed Themesius, who had slung Goth like a sack of flour over his shoulder. It was done effortlessly and he walked without breaking stride, as if there was no burden.

It took them some time to reach the summit. Tor once again helped a curiously weakened Alyssa on the trek upwards. She seemed to be sinking in time with the sun to a place even Gidyon could not reach. Tor was worried for both his wife and son now. He tried to comfort Gidyon by explaining that his mother was melancholy, but even to his ears the words sounded contrived and hollow. He probed towards her and found she had shielded. Tor knew he could break down her shield, but to what end? Her wrath probably. She had somehow broken free of him and withdrawn. All he could do was keep her safe until she
came back from where she was hiding and stopped being afraid.

It was a silent and bleak group that at twilight finally crested the mountain top. It was eerily quiet up there and without a breeze. The sky, appropriately aflame in the dying orange of the sun’s glow, would soon deepen to pink as dusk descended. No children were present, but as many of the community as could stomach this event had gathered and stood now to watch Goth being brought up over the rise by the giant. Themesius unloaded his cargo, which was bound and still snarling.

Lyam had decided on no further formalities. There had been enough talking. It was clear he wanted this deed done.

‘Tie him,’ he commanded of two men.

‘Wait!’ It was Marya. Her eyes were wide and burning with a fervour that those gathered could only imagine was revenge itself. ‘He must be naked, as we were. Stripped and humbled.’

Lyam nodded. ‘Do it.’

It was done, despite much kicking and shrieking by Goth. Many were appalled at the sight of his naked body. None of these people had heard of his mauling at the end of a Kloek blade. He was bound swiftly to a tall boulder which had stood in that spot for centuries. Each of the sentients filed past and threw rushes at Goth’s feet. It had been determined that each of the sentients who had felt his branding iron would play their own part in his execution. He—no longer sane it seemed—cursed every one of them, as spittle from his lips flew and his manic eyes rolled back in his head.

He looked like a demon and many of the women turned away once their rushes had been thrown down.

Tor noticed none of the rushes were damp, as they would be in the favoured method to prolong a burning for the victim. No, these people wanted their tormentor dead and gone; his ashes scattered to the winds amongst the forbidding Rork’yel Mountains.

The rushes were laid. The sun had set. Dusk had arrived…that strangely magical time between day and night when a soul could flee easily to its gods.

Lyam turned towards Tor and Alyssa. ‘Does any of your group want to say anything before Marya touches with the flame?’

‘I do,’ Alyssa suddenly said.

‘Don’t,’ Tor cautioned.

‘I must,’ she said.

She glanced towards Saxon who nodded.
Have your say, beautiful girl. He took the most precious thing from you. Now throw it back in his face,
he said on a private Link.

Tor wished she would not. This situation felt strangely dangerous. All the hairs on his arms had lifted. He felt an old fear grip him. Cloot arrived at his shoulder. Impeccable timing as always. The falcon’s talons, large and strong, centred him.

All right?
Cloot asked.

I will be when this is done,
he answered, his jaw clamping his teeth hard.

She must do what her instincts instruct, Tor…as we must,
Cloot gently counselled.

Alyssa walked around to face Goth, who mustered an evil grin for her.

‘Alyssa, I’d ask you to suck my cock for old time’s sake, but as you can see, I am without.’ And he went into a fit of manic giggling.

She shivered. ‘You were created by fire, Goth,’ she said, frowning. ‘It is fitting that the flames dismantle the creature you have become and burn away your sins. Go to your gods—whichever of them will have you. You can hurt me no more.’

She nodded towards Marya, who lit a bushel of dry wheat from a nearby torch which had been carried, burning, to the peak. Everyone held their breath. Tor felt the world spin slightly. It felt to him as though an important milestone in his destiny was being reached.

Marya looked into the victim’s twitching face but Goth only had eyes for Alyssa. She touched the flame to the rushes. They caught fire instantly.