Sanctuary (Dominion) (30 page)

I looked him in the eyes, making sure he understood what he was about to do.

"No," I said, finally. "Not in this life."

Cullach stared back at me for a long time, standing still as a statue. I had no doubt, though, that he was mulling the meaning of my words. If he’d had a priest following him around as a child, then he should understand.

I closed my eyes and waited for the end. Instead, I felt the sword pull away from my neck and I heard the sound of the blade returning to its scabbard. I opened my eyes to see him stalking out of his tent.

I sat there for some time, staring mutely at the space in front of me. I didn't even notice as one of the Irishmen stepped inside and dragged me out. He led me all the way back to Lorcan's tent, but I remember none of it. I sat on the ground in front of the tent, refusing to go inside, staring off at the fort across the bay. Sefrid watched me with sad eyes, but she said nothing.

Chapter 25

Sefrid gave me a bowl of soup, but I didn’t eat much of it. Instead, I sat cross-legged next to the fire for a long time, watching an ant trek across the field around me, where it eventually climbed a long blade of grass in its search for food. The ant reached the top of the blade and stopped, its legs flailing about for a foothold before turning around. I envied its simple life, this creature whose only concern was finding sustenance. It worked tirelessly for that reward, even after going astray, and it didn’t wallow in misfortune at every obstacle in its path.

The message wasn’t lost on me, but that didn’t mean I felt compelled to heed it.

“Daniel.” I looked over to see Sefrid pointing west, to Lorcan’s men returning from Caer Gybi. My stomach fluttered at seeing the sorcerer, but I didn’t show fear. Lorcan rode at the lead, his face frozen in stark anger, and I could see Avaline being held by the black-robed man on the horse behind him. She was struggling, and crying, and when they finally reached us, Lorcan nearly threw her to ground next to me.

“Your job isn’t over yet, priest. Lucky for you.” He glared at me and then stalked away, toward the other side of the camp while the rest of his men led the horses away. Avaline lay whimpering on the ground where Lorcan had shoved her, half on her side, looking away from me. I almost reached out for her before remembering how terribly I’d failed her yesterday, so I stayed my hand and let her cry. Before I knew it, though, Sefrid grabbed my wrist and yanked it toward Avaline. I nearly protested, but she had a stern look on her face that could rival Sister Agnes, so I relented and held Avaline’s arm. She tensed at first, but eventually relaxed and laid down on the grass next to me. She still shivered, though, and I wondered if going to the dungeon was making her worse.

“Why does Lorcan think you have magic in you?” Sefrid asked.

“Because I healed Ewen, and I tried to heal her.”

“You healed them… what does that mean? How?”

“I don't know.” I shook my head. “It’s just something I’m able to do. I don’t understand it, but it worked for Ewen, and it seemed to help her.” I motioned to Avaline, who glanced up briefly at the movement.

“Explain it to me.”

I sighed, trying to think of the words. “I absolve them of their sins, and when I touch them on the forehead, like this,” I demonstrated on myself, “I see the darkness inside of them, and I somehow… pull it out. I think I destroy it, but I don’t know.”

“You heal the darkness inside of them?” Sefrid said, staring at me as if seeing me for the first time. “You cleanse it?”

I shrugged again. “Maybe.” She continued to stare, making me uncomfortable. “What?”

“I see the magic in you, now.” She reached over and touched my cheek, grazing it with her fingertips, and I reflexively pulled back. “You are a healer.”

“Wait. What does that mean?” I asked. “Do you know others who can do this?”

“No,” she said. “But I have heard stories.”

“I need help, Sefrid. I don’t know how this works, or even what it is. I thought God gave me this power to help people, but I’ve only made things worse. I need to find out what I’m supposed to do.”

Sefrid moved the hair from her face, thinking. “I may know someone. Though, he’s hard to find.”

“Is it… is it Arkael?”

“The man from your dream?” she said, half-smiling. “No. I don’t know him. The man I speak of, though, is a surprisingly resourceful person.”

“Then how do we find him?

“It will not be easy. He prefers to stay hidden.”

I slumped in despair. All I could think of were Lorcan’s words to me just moments ago. Your job isn’t over yet, he’d said. That meant he’d take me back to the dungeon, with Avaline. I’d have to suffer the overpowering darkness of that place, and I’d have to do it over and over again until Lorcan finished his work. It would kill me.

“I have to escape,” I told her. “I can’t go back there.”

“That would be a dangerous gamble.”

“I have no choice.

“You would take her with you?” Sefrid motioned to Avaline, and I shifted uncomfortably. I wanted to help her, but I couldn’t bring her with me. She’d slow me down. We’d be found before we even left sight of the camp, and the punishment for escaping would be brutal.

“I can’t.”

“You will,” she demanded. “I will not let you escape while leaving her behind. If you can help her, then you will help her.” She emphasized those last four words.

“I would, Sefrid, but it’s not meant to be.”

“You have to try again.”

“Try what?” I asked. “Healing her?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t. I already have and it was too much for me. Besides, she’s part of this. She always has been. I was a fool to even try. All I’ve done is make it easier for Lorcan to carry on his blasphemy.”

“What exactly do you think she is? A willing participant? Her mind was destroyed because of Lorcan, and everyone else who’s used her and treated her as nothing more than a tool. She is not to blame for this, any more than you are. And nothing she’s done justifies how she’s been treated. Look at her now. She cowers from the world like a beaten dog.” We both watched Avaline lie on the ground, her eyes vacant and miserable, her hands twitching. “If there is any piece of her left inside, then you have to find it.”

“You don’t understand. I’ve already tried. It’s a whirlwind of hate and violence in there. There’s only so much of that I can take before it tears me apart. And I already failed once.”

“Try again.”

“I don't even know if that would work,” I said, exasperated.

“Then find out,” she barked. "She deserves that much.”

I wanted to. Even though I balked at the notion of going through that experience a third time, I felt responsible for what I saw in that dungeon, and I still wanted to help her if I could. Maybe that was it. Maybe if I tried again, I could get her well enough to escape. If I could get her out of Lorcan’s hands, he couldn’t use her for his vile purposes.

“I don’t know if I should do it out here. I’m not sure everyone should see this.”

“You’re right.” Sefrid stood and helped Avaline to her feet. “Go inside.”

The three of us went into Lorcan’s tent, and sat Avaline on the floor. I sat opposite her, trying to calm my nerves. Sefrid’s cold stare kept me from even thinking about backing out, though.

“I have to, uh, absolve her sins. That’s how it works.” Sefrid nodded curtly, caring little about the details. I took a deep breath. “Okay, here we go.”

I spoke the words, and as I did Avaline perked up slightly. She still couldn’t look me in the eye, but she seemed to know something important was about to happen. I made the sign of the cross, and I held my hand out, but I didn’t touch her yet. I needed to gather my resolve to do this, to dive back into the morass of her thoughts. But I never had a chance. I looked up, just in time to see her lean into my outstretched hand. And before I could stop it, I was in.

Everything happened just as it had before. Pain, sickness, revulsion, death, horror. They all came at me with a fury. I was prepared enough to at least brace myself this time, but that only staved off the inevitable for a few extra moments. I held out, though, as long as I could, and just like last time I reached that memory of the village. Only this time I saw no sign of the beast. This time, I saw the village as it was before the beast destroyed it. Men, women and children worked and played. They talked, laughed, and argued.

Two boys with dark hair and familiar eyes came running up to me then.

“Daniel!” I awoke with a gasp and pulled back from Avaline.

"What..." I began, looking around in a daze.

“Be quiet!” Sefrid whispered, motioning outside. That’s when I heard the voices. Lorcan’s, and some others. The tent flap opened and three men entered. Lorcan, Cullach, and a third man I’d never seen. He was dressed as impressively as Cullach, so I assumed this must be Ruark. He was a bit shorter, but heftier around the middle and a few years older. He had a thick, orange beard, with grey splotches along the sides that covered a wide face. His hair was long and tied up behind him, and he wore several layers of furs, along with at least a dozen silver and gold necklaces.

“Get out!” Lorcan said, irritably, and the three of us hastily obliged. Cullach didn’t even acknowledge us, although I noticed Ruark casting a sideways glance as we left.

Lorcan’s men waited outside, as did a few Irishmen who must have been part of either Ruark or Cullach’s bodyguards. We settled into our place near the fire, and the Irishmen watched us carefully, but Lorcan’s men seemed not to care so the Irishmen relaxed as well. I looked at the horizon, trying to pretend that I wasn't listening in on the conversation taking place in the tent. That was easy to do, though, because I couldn't hear anything being said. At one point, Cullach raised his voice, saying something about not enough food to go around, but that's all I heard. A short time later, all three men emerged from the tent, looking fierce and determined.

"Ready the men," Cullach said to one of his soldiers waiting outside. "We leave at first light."

The Irishman smiled broadly and nodded, then hurried off through the camp. Ruark and his retainers left, too, headed back to their own camp to the north. I looked at Sefrid, who seemed almost as surprised as me. Once Cullach and Ruark left, Lorcan looked at the three of us, contemptuously as usual, then went back inside his tent.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"The war is starting again."

“What war? What are we attacking?”

Sefrid raised her eyebrows. “Rhodri Mawr’s kingdom. We’re attacking Wales.”

Part 4

Gwynedd

Chapter 26

The camp came alive, and every Irishman in sight busied themselves with preparations so that we could leave in the morning. This was a host of men who had strayed far from their purpose, so once the call for war went out, a glint of excitement sparkled in their eyes, which carried over into the evening. Groups gathered around campfires to sing songs of battle, and tell stories of glory past, as well as to boast of glory to come. I spent my evening with Sefrid, watching the merriment, and wondering glumly how many of these men would survive the week, and if I would be one of them.

We awoke promptly at dawn, and the Irishmen tore down their camp in a matter of minutes, bundling up their tents and belongings and dragging them down the hill to the shore. Once no trace of the camp remained, most of the Irishmen filed onto the six longboats I’d seen earlier - provided by Ruark as part of his alliance with Cullach - squeezing in just over thirty to a boat, while the remaining men and the horses filled Cullach's smaller boats. Not all the horses would fit, though, so only sixty were taken, with the intent that Cullach would return later for the rest, which were left to roam. Boric led Avaline and myself onto one of the smaller boats – nothing more than a twenty-foot canoe – along with Sefrid, Lorcan, Lorcan's followers, and three of Cullach's men. Lorcan's tent was carefully taken down and his supplies loaded onto the boat with him, a process he lorded over like an overprotective parent. I stayed silent that morning, trying my best to avoid his ire. Luckily, the only time he seemed to notice me was when I had trouble getting Avaline on the boat. She pushed away from me when we first approached the water, and it took some coaxing to get her to go near it. Even then, she had difficulty climbing on board and keeping her balance. Lorcan frowned at us the entire time, but he said nothing.

Once a boat filled up, the oars came out and the Irish pushed off from shore and rowed out across the bay. The longboats went first, their sleek bows slicing northward through the glittering water in a long, irregular line. The rest of the boats followed, starting with our own. Everyone grabbed or was forcibly given an oar, except for Sefrid, Avaline and Lorcan, and we rowed out from the shallows, veering north until we hit open water, and then west around the point at Holyhead. The sight of that fort gave me chills, and the pit of my stomach sunk into my bowels but I forced myself not to think about it, concentrating on my feeble rowing instead. Once we made it past the point, and I couldn’t see the fort, I felt better, though not much. I disliked being on the water, but that was a welcome price to pay.