Sanctuary (Dominion) (40 page)

“It’s over,” was all he said. I nodded. Ewen moved up alongside me, but I knew without looking that he was just as relieved as I was.

Avaline lay on the ground next to me, and I kneeled down to check on her. Her eyes were closed, and I suddenly regretted the burden she must have taken on by helping me. She’d known I needed it, though, and I smiled knowing that she’d thought to act on it. I grabbed her shoulder, to stir her awake, to tell her that it was over. We’d won, and she would be safe, just like I promised her.

Something about her wasn’t right, though. I looked at her neck, and then her chest. She wasn’t breathing.

“Avaline?” I leaned down and put my ear to her mouth, waiting frantically to hear the hiss of a breath, or to feel warm air on my cheek. But there was nothing.

“Avaline!” I shook her. “Avaline, wake up! Do you hear me? Wake up!”

She didn’t move.

“You can’t be dead,” I said, my eyes welling. “You can’t be dead. You can’t be dead. Wake up, Avaline. I beg you. Please God, wake up!” I pushed her hair out of her face, and lifted her head into my lap. “Oh God. No. I was going to heal you. You can’t die yet. I was going to heal you!”

I could heal you.

I froze, my hand hovering over her head. I could heal her, couldn’t I? I could make her better, bring her back to life. But that’s not how it worked. It never had. I couldn’t raise the dead any more than I could make fire appear out of thin air. Right? Those doubts, as rational as they were, held no weight, though. Not with Avaline lying in my lap, not moving, not breathing. I had to try. I made a promise, and I wouldn’t let her down. Never again.

With trembling hands, I held her face.

And I felt nothing.

Avaline was gone.

Chapter 34

Life is pain.

Those were the only words I could summon to describe what I felt as I stood at the edge of the cliff overlooking the harbor. Wave after wave of water crashed into the jagged rocks below, inviting me to join them. It would be so easy to end it. The pain would go away, as would the struggle, the fighting, the constant push and pull on my soul. I hadn’t come up here intending to jump to my death, but the notion became more inviting the longer I stared at the rocks, contemplating the solace they might finally provide.

The battle was won. Ruark was dead. Lorcan was dead. Cullach had claimed the fort and everything in it, along with nearly two dozen of Ruark's men who’d surrendered to him. Ewen was free, along with twenty more of Lorcan's intended army. We'd succeeded in everything we set out to do when we left Towyn, but the victory was hollow, because I'd failed to save the one person God brought me here to save. In fact, I'd done worse than fail to save her.

“You’re a coward if you jump.” I didn’t turn at the sound of Arkael’s voice. I didn’t want to talk to him, or to anyone else. I just wanted to stare at the jagged rocks below, which called to me with their finality. “The worst kind of coward, too. The kind with a gift from God who chooses not to use it.”

“I killed her because of it,” I said.

“Did you?” Arkael walked up next to me and peered over the edge. “Or did she kill herself?”

I looked at him, surprised.

“She was in pain. Imagine how terrible you feel when you heal someone. You experience that torment for a moment. She lived with it every day.”

“No.”

“Maybe she killed herself to finally put an end to it. Or, maybe she did it to save you.”

“No!” I said, louder than I intended. My eyes welled up and I looked away, squeezing them shut in shame. “I was supposed to save her. That’s why I came back. To make her better.  When I healed her before... it helped. She was better. Everyone said she was different. Maybe if I just tried it again, or tried harder I could have done it. I could have made her whole again, no matter how long it took.”

“You did. You gave her back enough of her mind to let her decide. She saved herself.”

“It’s not what I wanted.” The tears flowed freely now. “I don’t even know if she knew…” I fell to my knees. I couldn’t hold the emotion back anymore, so I let it all out. I was reminded of that day in the church, when I first met Arkael, and Aedre cried unabashedly over her mother’s body. I could feel that pain now. I knew exactly what she felt.

“You saved others today. I’m sure they’re grateful to you. And we’ve struck a blow against the demon.”

The demon. The mere mention of it made the peripheries of my vision turn black, as if saying its name made the world around me shudder. I was aware now. I could see things most normal men couldn't. I could feel the ebbs and flows of this war, because they ebbed and flowed right through my soul. I was surrounded by the demon's taint, and I could see his sickness destroying the world I loved. I could see it destroying me, just as it had the one person I truly cared about.

“I want to die.”

Arkael said nothing.

“I understand now. What you said earlier about the battle lines in this war. You said those who walk with you do not long survive it. Is that to be my fate?”

“I don’t know. No one’s future is preordained. And I only said that to scare you away.”

“But it’s true, isn’t it? Is this what we suffer? Is this to be my life now?”

“Possibly.”

“Then I can’t do it. I can’t live this way. Ever since you arrived, my life has been one torment after another. I’ve seen the world rend apart at my feet, and the people I care about suffer beyond imagining. And me…. I’m a healer, yet all I've done is leave a trail of corpses in my wake. Where is the good in any of this?” My shoulders slumped as I stared out across the bay. Instead of shimmering blue water and green coastline, though, I saw only Avaline’s motionless face. "Where is God's grace and compassion?"

Arkael pointed back at the camp, toward Ewen and the others. “See those men? There’s your good. They were saved by your hand. You did that, something I’m unable to do. I had to kill the others to keep them from scattering across the land. But those men over there, they have another chance at life because of you. Remember that. Remember that you can do something great. Something very few can do.”

I looked at Ewen, his face drawn, tired, but smiling effortlessly as he told the men around him a story, one I desperately wanted to hear. I reluctantly wiped my face with my sleeve. “You knew another like me?”

“Yes. And his fate was not deserved." Arkael put his hand on my shoulder, and I nearly jumped at the unexpected gesture. "I will make sure the same does not happen to you.”

“What happened to him?”

“I will tell you later. For now, focus on what’s around you, priest.”

I laughed, but there was no joy in it. “I’m not a priest. I never will be.”

"Fine. I'll just call you Daniel."

I sniffed, marveling at the fact that Arkael not only called me by name, but he’d vowed to protect me. I’d have been thrilled by the gesture a few weeks ago, or even a few days ago. Today, however, it was just another miserable victory, one for which I would gladly trade to have Avaline back, sitting on the ground next to me, humming that intolerably unrecognizable song. Instead, I took some small comfort in knowing that when the demon came looking for me again, he’d face a familiar foe, instead.

"Is Arkael your real name?"

"No." Arkael lingered, as if to say more, but he didn't. He walked back to the others, leaving me kneeling on top of the cliff. I stood and backed away from the edge, suddenly less willing to throw my life away carelessly. My misery faded, but that’s only because anger and a thirst for vengeance against the demon, and his minions, pushed it aside. Perhaps that was my calling. God brought me here not to save those on the front lines, but to be on the front lines. To not only be part of this war, to but to have a personal stake in it. I resented the idea that Avaline’s life could be so easily used as a tool to twist my emotions, but I’d seen worse in this world. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized Arkael may be right. Avaline lived a tortured, wretched life, but maybe her sacrifice had earned her a spot at God’s side.

So be it. If this was God’s plan for me, then I would serve Him, but not as a priest. I would be a soldier. I would be on the front lines, right where He wanted me, and I would relish the opportunity.

The demon feared me, and wanted me dead. Well, now I wanted the same from him.

*****

By mid-afternoon, all of the bodies had been stacked and burned, and prayers recited. Avaline’s body was kept separate, though, and I saw to it that she was buried near the shore, a short distance from the fort. I stayed by her grave for a long time, mostly just to be near her. I sat on the ground next to the small wooden cross I’d fashioned, from which hung my own leather crucifix, and I watched the waves gently roll up the beach, trying not to think about what could have been.

A few of Cullach’s men rounded up the remaining horses on the other side of the bay, and seeing them over there made me think of Pepin for the first time in days. He couldn’t still be on Ynys Mon. Even if he’d stayed after escaping the church, he’d have seen us leave for Towyn, taking nearly everything with us, and he would have surely abandoned the island himself. I didn’t worry about him, though. He’d survive whatever journey he took, and he’d probably find me again, like he always did. That made me wonder, though, what my own future held. Where would I go after this? Would I follow Arkael, or would I find my own destiny? At this point, I truly didn’t know.

I returned to Holyhead in the evening, and found Cullach's men gathered about a few campfires spread throughout the fort. I found my satchel lying on the ground near the door, where I’d left it, as always. I opened it, finding my journals still in order and my cup still in one piece despite everything we’d been through together. I held the cup in my hands, admiring the etchings on the side before Cullach approached.

"Daniel," he said. "You will return to Eoferwic?"

I sighed and put the cup back in my satchel. "No. Even if I wanted to return there, the place is overrun by Vikings. I’ll have to find somewhere else to winter."

Cullach watched the shore on the other side of the bay, the site of his camp only a few days ago. "You are welcome to stay with us, though I can’t promise it will be safe."

"Why? Are you staying here?"

He shook his head. "Our numbers are too small, and if we stay here Rhodric will learn what happened and try to finish us while we're weak. So we’ll go south, find Trian and look for a place to winter and to raise more men."

Cullach spoke with authority, but I could see the worry in his face. They’d be hunted, and they would have a hard time surviving through the winter without resorting to ravaging nearby villages. It would be Rogwallow all over again.

...Rogwallow.

"You said you wanted to find land before the Danes did. Why? To farm?”

"Aye." Cullach nodded slowly, the weight of his men's future on his shoulders. "We can't live this life forever. We lost our homes in Ireland, and I know one day we'll find new ones here. But in the meantime we must fight to survive."

"What if I could give you a home? A meager one, where you could farm, and live in peace?"

"How would you do that?"

"I know a village on the southern coast that could use some able-bodied men, especially men handy with a sword. I can’t promise they’d be happy to see you, but if what you tell me is true, I can promise I’ll speak well of you to them."

Cullach looked at me, and I saw something I’d never seen in the man. Hope.

“I would like that. What is this place called?”

“Rogwallow,” I told him.

"Rogwallow," he repeated, sounding the word on his lips. "That's a strange name. How do you know it?"

I smiled. “It’s my home.”

####

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