Revelyn: 1st Chronicles - When the last arrow falls (29 page)

‘Sorry! Sorry for what? For breaking the spell which I was under? For setting me free from my cage? No Rema, it is I who thank you. I was dead. Now I see a future. If it be death, then so be it, but I have no regrets.’ She leant over and took his hands. ‘We were a team once. Welcome back!’ Her green eyes shone with such excitement and enthusiasm that Rema was greatly heartened.

‘You will stand with me then?’

‘What a stupid question,’ she replied and chuckled once more. ‘Until the end.’ She extended her hand as the fighting men of Revelyn were known to do, and he responded; they held fast, entwined fist to fist, and smiled. Rema found he enjoyed the contact and the grim determination in the firm way she grasped him.

‘Until the end dear cousin.’ He saw her flinch, ever so slightly, and he wondered why.

Wormwood served them a simple lunch, which they ate on deck in the warm afternoon sun, whilst the ship continued her slow but steady progress towards the sea. At one point, the
Scoria
sailed in close by the northern bank, which was the more heavily populated, and by chance, they passed by a small village, which was burning. There was a large gibbet erected by the riverbank, and on it were the bodies of seven poor creatures, swinging gently in the breeze. There was no evidence of anyone else, and nothing to suggest what had caused such a terrible thing. Rema and Serenna, and indeed the whole crew, stared silently horrified at the gruesome scene, before Tyne’s voice brought them back to different reality.

‘Going about, all hands!’ And with relief, they gladly left it all behind.

After a span, Rema left Serenna and climbing the few steps to the aft deck, he approached the Captain.

‘I wish to thank you sira for your sanctuary, and the services of your man Scion. I am greatly improved thanks to his skill.’ Tyne narrowed his eyes, but gave little other acknowledgement, standing with feet apart, and hands behind his back, looking out, as Rema assumed he would spend much of his time, scanning the horizon. However Rema was not easily put off.

‘Can I trouble you sira, for the use of a map of the land, for I wish to lay plans for the future?’ The Captain grunted audibly.

‘Would your plans be including the Lady Serenna?’

‘That you would have to ask her, sira,’ replied Rema evenly, choosing his words carefully, ‘for she is a woman with her own mind, and will not be part of anything which she does not choose.’

Lethyne Tyne pursed his lips, and nodded, but did not speak. A silence descended which Rema did not wish to break. His request lay before the Captain, he would not ask twice. After quite some time, the captain replied.

‘Tell the Lady Serenna that Captain Lethyne Tyne will be expecting her in his cabin for dinner at sunset. She will come alone of course. You will eat in your cabin. Wormwood will serve you. I will allow her to bring a map such as you desire on her return,
if
she chooses to return.’ He turned and smiled wickedly at Rema, who knew that he was being baited, and that to react in any manner would not be wise. He nodded once, gently.

‘I look forward to receiving it Captain. I wish you a pleasant dinner.’ And with that he went below to find Serenna sitting on her bunk, head back and eyes closed as though preparing for some trial.

The evening was the most difficult of Rema’s life. They had not spoken much before Wormwood had knocked on the cabin door to inform Serenna that dinner was about to be served, and Captain Tyne was waiting. Before Rema could speak, she spoke.

‘You must promise me that no matter what happens; you will not come looking for me. You will not, under any circumstances, enter the Captain’s cabin.’ Rema was about to remonstrate with her, but she cut across him more forcibly than he expected.

‘Please Rema, promise me this. Under no circumstances.’ She held his gaze and he knew that she would not be thwarted.

‘Under no circumstances,’ Rema repeated softly. He stood and held her hands. ‘Go carefully.’ She smiled back weakly, but said nothing. And then she was gone.

Wormwood provided him with a cheerless meal of tepid soup and bread. The latter was at least fresh, since the ship was only recently provisioned, but Rema had little appetite and took an age to finish it off. His neck and back were much improved and he spent a span doing simple exercises, which stretched and strengthened his upper body, but these too soon bored him. Once he would spend half a day ensuring his arms and back could withstand the enormous forces that his remarkable bow demanded. But not this night. He forced himself to lay out his weapons, the bow and quiver of arrows, and the short sword.

What a tiny force against so much?
he thought. In the flickering light of an oil lamp, he spent another span oiling the bow and checking for any damage and was relieved to find that he was able to once more bend the bow fully, with hardly a pain in his back or neck. He counted the thirty arrows from the quiver and checked these as well for any flaws, but found none.

Thirty arrows, how can these win a battle? Any battle?
His thoughts then turned to combat and he tried to visualise what might be coming, which led him to the prophecy, which he pulled from his tunic and read over and over, wondering how such a few simple words could hold such power, or if indeed it was all just a mad belief.

The ship creaked its way through the night. There was a weak moon and a few stars, but cloud and mist mingled to confuse, so that the short time Rema spent pacing the mid deck was less than satisfying. Every now and then, the ship under Scion’s control, went about and headed back to the far bank, whilst the current carried her remorsefully on to the sea.  Rema could not help but think of Serenna and Captain Tyne, and this too confused him all the more. She had seemed so anxious about the evening, and yet so purposeful that he have no part to play in it. Finally, with an aching head, and exhausted by the efforts of the past days, Rema went and lay on his rough bunk in the tiny cabin now unlit except for the faint light of the moon entering by the one tiny sea-port. Wormwood had informed him that it would stay open until they were at sea, to freshen the air, and save on candles and lamp oil whenever possible. As he strained to hear the sounds of the night, an uneasy sleep engulfed him.

Rema woke suddenly in the early morning. A shadow crossed his face.

‘Serenna,’ he whispered. There was no answer, but he knew it was her. ‘Serenna, are you alright?’ But she did not speak. She lay down, a dark shadow in the gloom, but shortly after the moon seemed to shine more brightly and the cabin glowed a little, enough for Rema to see that she was staring at him. And she was crying.

‘My dear cousin…’ he began, but she cut him off instantly.

‘Don’t you
ever
call me that again, for we are not, and never have been cousins.’  It was so emphatic, so given in pain that something stirred deep in Rema’s mind.
What is your name Rema Bowman? Mentor
had demanded this of him.

‘I am sick of the lie, and I cannot carry it anymore.’ Her words were now both sad and angry, woven together to form a cry from her deepest being. ‘No more Rema. No more… no more.’ She finished in a whisper, as a great sob shook her body mightily. Rema said nothing, for he knew not what to say. After a time, Serenna spoke once more; this time in a quiet, sad voice.

‘Do you know why I left the Highlands and my family Rema, and you, why I left everything behind, everything I cared for? Did you ever ask why?’

‘I wondered Serenna, but I never knew. You parents told me that you had argued and wanted time apart…’

‘And how did you feel Rema; what feelings did you have? Did you even miss me. A little?’ She sobbed once more, and Rema felt deeply moved.

‘Yes, I missed you. You were my best friend and you left without a farewell. I was hurt of course and I suppose angry. You were always unpredictable. I think I thought you would be back. But you never came back.’

There was silence for a long time as they lay staring at each other in the gloom. Rema felt quite light headed, and he found the many competing thoughts and emotions, disorienting.

‘I loved you the first time I saw you.’ She spoke very gently now, as though her voice carried the embodiment of a most precious possession. ‘You were a baby and I was not much older, but when you came to the Highlands my life changed and I loved you even then. Your parents, and mine, made me promise never to tell that you were adopted, that I was always to call you cousin, for my mother and your mother, are sisters. I gladly obeyed, for at last, I had a friend and someone to share with, and to grow up with, and I have carried that lie with me for all my life. Until now.’

Rema went to speak, but she ignored him, and kept on talking, as though some great barrier had finally broken, allowing the deep waters of a huge burden to flood out into the tiny cabin, and the even smaller space between them.

‘I loved you when we played together, just you and me; I loved you for every minute we shared together. It was all I ever needed. I was older and more fearless, but as I grew, I knew that I was trying to impress you, to win, not just your admiration but your heart. And all the time, you were my cousin. I believed it when we were young, and later it seemed too late to change, for you believed it to be truth, even when I knew it to be a lie. And I had promised, and my parents always reminded me of it. We grew up fearlessly in the mountains. We hunted and almost died together so many times, laughing and crying; and you became a man, and I a woman, and all the time I loved you, and could never tell you why.’ Serenna was crying openly now and Rema was unable to respond, for as she spoke it was as if a veil was being removed from his eyes and he saw the truth in what she said, and marveled at the blindness which had surrounded him.

‘I kissed you once, on the lips when once I almost fell to my death and you rescued me. It was the best moment of my life, but I felt you pull back, for I was only your cousin….how I hate the word!  And then you met Sylvion; the beautiful enchanting Sylvion. How I hated her. But she could not be hated for long for she
is
truly wonderful.’ Serenna spoke without malice, ‘and so I knew that I could not live and see you lost to another, when if but for a lie it could all have been so different.’

‘You left because of me?’ Rema spoke in a daze. His heart was thumping loudly and his mouth was dry. It was too much to grasp but he knew it was true.

‘No, I left because of a lie,’ Serenna concluded, ‘and like so many silly girls, I ran away and got married and tried to forget and prove to myself that I did not need you or anyone else ever associated with such a great deception.’ She paused and took breath as her body shook from the deep emotion which engulfed her.

‘And I failed in that too.’ And with that she lay back on the simple bunk; her face towards  the low ceiling was bathed in a soft moonlight which made her tears shimmer like diamonds. Her eyes were shut, and slowly her body calmed.

‘I am so sorry Serenna.’ Rema spoke truly but unsure what else he could say.

‘I too am sorry,’ she whispered without moving. ‘And now I will sleep if that is possible, for I am weary beyond measure. Rema went to speak further but she stopped him.

‘I will not speak further Rema for it may be that I have already spoken too much.’

Rema lay exhausted, watching her as she drifted off to sleep, and once more realised that she was exceedingly beautiful, and felt completely bewildered by so many emotions. He fell asleep long after Serenna had turned away and became just another shadow in the dark as the ship turned about once more, and continued its endless journey from bank to bank and on to the freedom of the open ocean.

Chapter 10

Jycob Menin was shaking with fear. He was not a brave man, but even if he had been, he would still have been shaking with fear, for all in Revleyn knew that to come before the King’s public court before the noon had passed meant certain death at the hands of the Royal Executioner, one whose name was mentioned only in whispers, and rarely then, such was his reputation in the art of death.

Jycob was on his knees, hands tightly bound behind his back. It was still early morning and yet word had travelled fast throughout the city; a throng of eager onlookers jostled for position behind the solid wall of King’s Guards arrayed to keep order and add a grim solemnity to the proceedings. Lord Petros Luminos was on his public throne, and beside him stood the much feared Zelfos. Behind, in the deep shadows cast by the massive roof and walls of the stone hall which formed the court precinct were two, perhaps three, large and evil creatures, themselves part shadow, part darkness. They were almost not there, and yet they were. The city folk of Ramos had never known anything like them, and whilst they were hard to define in the gloom, their presence heightened the fear which hung in the air so that it became palpable. A public execution always had its own following.

The executioner stood to one side. He was masked by royal decree, not one part of his head was visible, so complete was the hood he wore. Two small eye-holes and several smaller ones for the nose were the only openings. His identity was a well kept secret, although the rumours abounded, especially after a death sentence was carried out. He was not tall, but his girth was huge and his bare torso muscular and hairy, and clearly that of an older man. Tight fitting leather breeches covered him from the waist down to his boots, also leather and well worn. His gloves shone from the liberal animal fat he used to keep the leather supple. They were tight fitting, and he had the unnerving habit of regularly stretching his fingers and cracking his knuckles loudly in a grim display, which seemed to say,
look at me and be afraid, for I am death.
He never spoke, for he had no need. Jycob saw him, and knew what his presence meant, and his stomach churned.  He vomited noisily onto the ground, covering the smooth flagstones and his dirty tunic with bile.

The King raised his hand and nodded to the huge guard who stood behind the prisoner. Silence suddenly gripped the throng, their nervous conversations replaced by an eager anticipation which hung heavily in the air.