Destiny (41 page)

Goth began to laugh. He began to speak gibberish. His ravings and rantings had fallen into utter madness and his face contorted with the insanity which was finally taking him over.

Saxon watched him wrestle against the bindings and wondered if they would hold against his strength. He mentioned it to Figgis who nodded sombrely. ‘We should have seen to that part ourselves, I fear.’

Themesius heard and bent down to whisper, ‘Let’s hope the fire consumes him quickly.’

Gidyon had heard this exchange too and stepped towards his mother. Tor did likewise. Both of them hated her making herself so available to Goth’s eyes which were refusing to leave her. She seemed mesmerised as the flames began to engulf the pile of rushes.

Tor spoke gently. ‘Step back, my darling, please.’

She resisted his touch. ‘No, I will watch him to his end.’

Gidyon and Tor stole a worried glance at each other.
Then we stand beside her,
Tor said to his son privately.
This is not good for her.

And so they stood and watched their enemy writhe against the heat of the flames which were yet to touch his already once-burnt skin.

A soft breeze blew through and some sparks lifted and landed against his face. Goth was shocked back to reality. They could see those sparks had blackened his cheeks. His eyebrows shrivelled and his legs seemed to be ablaze. It was horrible but still Alyssa fixed her eyes on the man she hated.

He focused on her again. ‘Alyssa!’ he yelled above the roar of the flames now. ‘I’ll always be the first man to have had the pleasure. Never forget that. It will haunt you for ever, my pretty thing. You were mine; I marked you!’

That was it. She could take no more. No more pain from this man; no more taunts or cruel words. He had stained her life with bitterness and fear and now she would rid the Land of him once and for all. Tor felt the rising wave of power but did not react quickly enough. Alyssa gathered her strength and screamed as she hurled her magic towards him. Flames exploded bright and white about Goth. Gidyon was reminded with horror of his own terror at Duntaryn, which had created a similar white flame that had burned its victims to ashes.

Goth burned quickly now. His skin melted like butter and he screamed his agony into the blackness which had stolen across the sky. In the intense brightness of the flames, Alyssa felt dizzy; she sensed
herself being sucked uncontrollably into a void. And in that black space, she saw Xantia.

See what we do to your daughter, coward. Won’t you try to save her?

She saw beyond Xantia to where a huge, golden-haired man, naked and erect, was lowering himself over and into her prone child. Lauryn was sobbing and begging for mercy.

No mercy,
the god yelled as he penetrated her.

She screamed her pain and despair but the god did not stop.

Call him!
he ordered, as he rode her body viciously.
Call him to me and I will stop.

No!
Lauryn gasped, her eyes wide with agony and fear.

He arched his back and pushed harder.
I can keep this up for hours,
his ugly voice called to her.

I will not summon him, you devil. Orlac! Save me!

Forget Orlac. You are for my pleasures now. Look at me, girl. I am Dorgryl, your ruler…the new ruler of this Land.

Xantia’s wicked laugh could be heard above her master’s rasping voice as he lost himself in vile pleasure.

Tor watched in horror as Alyssa’s body went rigid—her eyes were staring and wide, pupils dilated and oblivious to anything in front of her. Tor grabbed her to prevent her falling, and in that moment, the burning figure of Goth began to strain against its bindings.

Hold, damn you,
Saxon cast, begging the rope which held Goth not to yield.

But Goth was strong. Even as his flesh fried in the ferocity of Alyssa’s flames he found impossible strength
to rip himself free and lurched, screaming his hate, to the edge of the clifftop and plunged to the valley floor below. Themesius, Figgis and Saxon rushed to the edge to watch the fiery figure drop to its death.

It was only then Saxon noticed Tor and Gidyon bent over the prone figure of Alyssa. Tor was begging his wife to listen to him; shaking her by the shoulders, screaming her name over and over. They could feel him casting powerfully, probing all around her, trying to chase her to wherever she had gone.

Gidyon was too shocked to speak. He crouched by his parents and it was Themesius who finally came and lifted the young man to his feet.

‘Gidyon!’ he commanded. ‘What occurred?’

The voice of his Paladin snapped him out of his stupor. ‘She went rigid and fainted. I know not what has occurred. Help him, help my father find her!’

Figgis put his hand on the shoulder of Tor who kept up a stream of encouraging words, begging his wife to return.

Torkyn Gynt!
Figgis spoke only to him.
We need you.

Tor looked into the dwarf’s face.
She’s gone.

Does she breathe?

Tor did not seem to understand.

‘Themesius…does Alyssa breathe?’ Figgis asked.

The giant bent to the tiny chest and the others shooshed everyone about them.

He looked up finally. ‘Her heart beats but is faint.’

Both Tor and Gidyon found their wits. ‘Quick, Themesius, we must carry her to the Forest. We must leave now,’ Tor said, standing and running his hands wildly through his hair. ‘Is it over?’ he asked the Kloek, referring to Goth.

‘He threw himself over the ledge…his favourite trick,’ Saxon replied.

Cloot!
Tor called.

On my way
, the falcon replied flying high and then stooping to drop in a deep dive towards the valley floor. He would check to ensure the smouldering body was dead.

Lyam ran up. ‘What has happened to the Queen?’

Tor’s distraught expression told him there was no good news. ‘We don’t know. Goth inflicted terrible cruelty on her and her family,’ he answered, sliding around the truth. ‘She has fainted it seems, but I think we must leave here now.’

Themesius picked her up as though she weighed no more than a feather. Her body was now limp; her eyes closed to them.

‘You’re leaving now, at night?’ Lyam asked, astonished.

‘Yes.’

Saxon began walking with Themesius. Figgis followed with Gidyon who barely felt the guiding hand of his Paladin.

‘I’m sorry to leave you in this manner,’ Tor said and meant it.

Cloot arrived back.
Goth is no more.

Are you sure?
Tor said, his voice raspy in the falcon’s head.

He is dead.

‘Goth is finished,’ Tor said to those who had begun to gather about him. He looked at Marya. ‘We must leave. Our work is done here.’

‘You’re leaving us now?’ Her voice was full of disbelief. ‘But you promised to lead us from here…those of us who want to return.’

Tor’s voice softened. He was eager to join his friends, get Alyssa to safety, but knew he must give these people an answer…some hope. ‘I meant my promise. We will return. We will come back for you and bring you back safely into Tallinor proper.’

‘When?’ Lyam asked. ‘I’m not sure I will be one of them, but there are many who have expressed a desire to return to their homes.’

‘Soon, I promise you. I must get Alyssa to help outside this valley. We cannot take you with us through the night. Let me do what I must and one amongst us will return for you. You have my word.’

‘Keep that word, Torkyn Gynt. You owe it to these people,’ Lyam counselled. ‘We will await your coming and make our preparations.’

‘Thank you,’ Tor said, relief flooding his body. ‘I must go now.’

‘I can’t say we thank you for leaving the Crown’s business to us but we do thank you for tracking Goth down and releasing us from his hold.’

Tor nodded and offered the Tallinese handshake. ‘Until we meet again.’

Cloot flew on ahead and Tor jogged until he caught the others up. ‘Any change?’ he asked breathlessly.

‘None,’ Saxon said. ‘The Heartwood is our only hope.’

The going was difficult because it was so dark but Cloot’s instructions once again guided them flawlessly through the strange twists and turns which would bring them back out at the fringe of the Great Forest. Along the way, Gidyon tore strips from his own clothing and tied them to branches or placed them beneath stones.

‘Why?’ Figgis asked at last.

‘One of us has to come back for them,’ was all he said.

No one wanted to think on the implications of why it would not be all of them.

They reached the Forest several hours later but had made good time —despite stopping frequently to check Alyssa’s pulse, which remained faint and her breathing appeared very shallow. Once back amongst the trees, Tor took her in his arms.

‘Make your way back to the Heartwood with the horses as quickly as you can. Danger approaches.’

‘And you, Father?’ Gidyon asked.

‘I can take her back to the Heartwood in my own way. Make haste!’

They watched him hold her close to his chest and then they all felt a mighty power gathering. Tiny flames burst around the pair, chiming, and then a vast rainbow light gushed around them, blinding and deafening them with the roar of its power. When they could look again Tor and Alyssa had disappeared.

Tor no longer needed to draw on Darmud Coril’s power to travel through the Forest. He now understood the magical complexities of transportation into the Heartwood and, fuelled by fear for Alyssa’s life, wielded his power with terrifying speed and skill to bring them both to the very centre of the Heartwood, where their children had been conceived.

‘Darmud Coril!’ he cried, his voice hoarse with fright.

‘I am here, Torkyn Gynt.’

‘Save her. Use my life if you must but save her!’

‘Give her to me,’ the god commanded and the branches of the trees which served him reached low. Barely able to part with her, Tor placed his wife gently amongst them.

She was lifted high into the trees and away from his sight. Tor fell to his knees, begging the Heartwood to use all of its magics to rescue his precious Alyssa, over and over again offering his own life in exchange.

Solyana appeared, padding silently to where he knelt. She nuzzled him and he put his arms around her.

‘She’s gone,’ he wept into her thick, silver-tipped fur. ‘I’ve tried everything to reach her but I can’t even sense her there.’

We love her too, son of the Heartwood. Be brave.
Solyana could think of nothing else to say—no words of comfort came because she too felt hollow.
Tell me what happened while we wait.

The wolf knew it would help him to regain some balance if he talked and she was right. He related everything—all the events which had happened on their journey north.

So Goth is finally dead,
she said.

Yes, but somehow he took Alyssa with him.

I don’t think so. From what you say, Alyssa went to wherever it is of her own accord.
She looked up.
Hush! Darmud Coril comes.

Tor leapt to his feet but when he saw the limp body of his wife being lowered from the trees, he knew in his heart they had been too late.

Alyssa was placed tenderly on the ground but Tor could not look at her. His eyes were riveted on the lines of sadness etched across Darmud Coril’s own gentle face.

‘We have lost her, my son.’

Tor swallowed. He could make no sound come. His throat had failed. He wished it would close completely, shutting off his breath and allowing him to die beside her.

The god continued. ‘Only her body is here. Her spirit has gone. She has covered her trace expertly and I cannot find her. I am unable to call her back.’

‘But perhaps…’ Tor wanted desperately to clutch at something, anything which might give him hope.

Darmud Coril shook his head and Tor stopped speaking. The trees rustled and creaked their distress and the Flames of the Firmament appeared to chime softly about the precious couple.

‘She already cools, my child. It is too late. Alyssa is dead to us.’

Tor knew it to be true.

He said no more and lay down on the ground next to her; burying his face into her honey-golden hair he poured out his sorrow.

Solyana sat nearby, grief-stricken herself and worried about Tor. She must watch him closely. He and the Trinity were their only hope. Slowly the Heartwood fell silent. Nothing moved; not even the lake rippled. Despair reigned for countless hours as Alyssa’s body began to stiffen beside Tor and then cool to a deathly chill.

It was how the others found them the following day; curled into death’s embrace.

She wished now she had said something before she left which might bring him comfort, but seeing Lauryn, hearing her despair and Xantia’s hideous cackle, had pushed her beyond her tolerance. She had cast a warning to Xantia, she thought, and then lifted free of her body. What an odd sense of freedom she had felt. She had looked down on her husband and son, feeling their fright, wanting to tell them she had made a decision.

Alyssa had lingered far longer than she had intended, travelling with Tor to the Heartwood and feeling his grief so intensely that she wanted to reach out and touch his soft, wavy hair and reassure him it was for the best. She watched him receive back her body from Darmud Coril and saw his agony as he accepted the truth and slumped beside her. Her spirit was trembling now with shame at bringing this upon him—causing him so much sorrow when there was still so much to be done.

Yet she had had no choice, she told herself. Her and Tor’s needs were not above their children’s. The monster, Orlac, was raping Lauryn and Alyssa knew all about rape. She had had Saxon to rescue her yet Lauryn had no one. Her Paladin were nowhere to be seen! What could they do anyway against such power? She recalled the broad, powerful back of Orlac and the way his lips had been pulled back in a frenzy of ecstasy combined with hate. Beneath him screamed her child who refused to call her parents to the trap.

Alyssa tried to shake herself free of the vision; she needed a clear mind for what she had to do. The only puzzle, she thought, was why Lauryn had called for Orlac to save her when it was Orlac who rode her as if she were a whore. It baffled her but time was short now. She was no more for this Land…she knew that now; she must follow her true enemy, Xantia. Perhaps she could use Xantia to divert the attention of Orlac and win her child some respite from his attentions, if not safety.

Alyssa looked down one final time upon the man she loved. She could neither touch nor link with him.

Farewell, darling Tor,
she called to her husband, who could not hear her.
Be no longer sad, beloved. The gods have chosen that we were never meant to be together.

She thought of Gidyon; someone she loved so much already—a sensitive, affectionate young man who would not recover from this blow easily. Her spiritual heart broke for him.

And Rubyn. Unknown to her but the bond between mother and son still had strength. His face was etched in her mind. She hoped his father would live through this to tell him more about her endless love and regret for not being near him as he grew.

Finally, she spared a thought for Gyl. Her beloved son…her King.

Then she was travelling…racing after Xantia, whom she intended to destroy.