27
Rage Unleashed

Tor and Saxon decided to press on through the night. Both knew they should be exhausted from their pace, yet they could not sleep. Cloot flew above, looking ahead. The moon was full and illuminated the road they marched along in silence.

Pain hit Tor so hard, he fell to his knees. The link hurt his mind and rainbow-coloured light blazed through him. Father! it screamed. And, through someone else’s eyes he could see a terrifying scene: a child bound to an altar about to be slaughtered; a man tied to a roasting spit. That was no ordinary man.

‘Figgis!’ Tor yelled aloud into the moonlit night.

Saxon was already down at his side, confused by his friend’s behaviour. Cloot swooped down in a rapid dive.

Across the link, Tor felt an enormous surge of power thundering from him, through him. He could not tell where it began and he ended, or where it was going.

And then it was gone. He was left prone on the floor, gasping as though taking his last breath of this life. His friends could only watch in complete bewilderment.

Scargyl raised the double-edged blade above his head and joined in with the chanting of the village folk around him; the sound built to a frenzy.

Those watching the stranger saw him suddenly arch his back in some sort of silent agony; his mouth was wide open and stretched back over his teeth but no sound came out.

Just a second or so later, as Scargyl prepared to plunge the blade into the heart of the little boy, his robes exploded into strange white flames. He was burning; screaming and burning. Then everyone around him erupted into flames; each red robe igniting the one next to it, passing on the white flame with ease and speed. The clearing was filled with screams.

Figgis felt like he was in a trance, but although he could not see well, he could see enough to know what was happening. Finish it! he commanded Gidyon.

And Gidyon did, unleashing the pure white power all around, reserving the greatest bolt of it for the oaf, who had so far escaped burning. He began to run but he could not outrun the white flames which gave chase and licked at his flying robes. His cries turned to a scream as he burned, spreading the tongues of fire beyond the circle.

Now the trees surrounding the clearing began to burn. The white flames, which were not repelled by cold or wind or damp, spread with fury, moving through the village of Duntaryn with such ferocity it was levelled.

The only people left alive that terrible night were Gidyon, Yseul, Figgis and Gwerys. In a stupor, they managed to untie one another. Gidyon picked up Figgis tenderly and the dwarf touched his face.

It was necessary, child, he said, when he saw Gidyon was trembling.

Weeping silently, Gidyon carried Figgis in his arms and, followed by Yseul who cradled Gwerys, the small group walked until they had left the burning village far behind.

Tor took deep, steadying breaths. He felt as though all the wind had been knocked out of him.

‘What in the blazing Light was that all about?’ Saxon asked, crouched next to him.

Are you all right? The falcon’s concern was genuine.

I think so, Tor replied, cautiously. ‘I witnessed the most terrible sight. I believe it was Gidyon,’ he continued, with wonder in his voice. ‘I heard him call me Father. He opened this powerful link and then it was as if our powers combined. Did…did you see it?’

Saxon shook his head. ‘I saw nothing. One moment we were walking; the next you were on all fours and groaning as if the very breath was being sucked from you. Did Cloot see or feel anything?’

No, I didn’t either, Cloot said. I happened to glance down and saw you lying on the ground.

Tor looked at Saxon and shook his head. ‘No. Same as you. But what about that amazing white light?’

‘Nothing but moonlight was falling on us, Tor. This was obviously a private experience.’

‘Saxon!’ Tor grabbed his friend’s arm in sudden excitement. ‘This whole journey I’ve been expecting to see my children as five or six year olds. The person who called to me, called me father—my son—he is a young man!’

‘You’re imagining it, Tor. All that sudden activity, the terror. What you saw—well, you still haven’t explained it, but it obviously frightened you. The fear distorted things.’

‘No, you don’t understand.’ Tor was back on his feet and pacing circles in the moonlight. ‘It was a man’s voice. My son is grown up.’

‘Listen to yourself. How can that be? The baby…Wait a minute, what do you mean children? There is only your son, surely?’

Oh dear, Cloot said quietly.

Tor looked at Saxon. He suddenly felt guilty that he had not yet told the whole story.

‘Let’s take a break from our walk, Saxon. I have something to tell you.’

They sat at the roadside and shared some bread and cheese they carried. Neither was particularly hungry but the food gave them an excuse to busy their hands and mouths whilst Tor searched for the right words.

Cloot left to hunt, taking the precious spare time to feed on the small creatures which came out at night. He had not thought he would get a chance tonight and clicked his beak in delicious anticipation. He left Tor to the difficult tale.

Tor swallowed. There was no point in waiting any longer.

‘Sax…you remember how when Gidyon was born, we were all weeping when the Heartwood’s creatures were suddenly startled by a sound?’

‘Yes. I remember I told you to wait. I went in search of Goth to head him away from Alyssa and yourself.’

Tor nodded. ‘That’s right. And whilst you were gone, I helped Sorrel to deliver a baby girl…a sister to Gidyon.’

Shock wrought its way across the Kloek’s face. He spat out the bread he was chewing. ‘And Alyssa doesn’t know, does she?’

Tor shook his head sadly. He kept his eyes firmly on Saxon’s.

‘You bastard,’ Saxon said. He stood. It was his turn to pace. ‘You not only told her that the son who still breathes is dead, but she knows nothing of her daughter. You are a heartless man, Gynt.’

Tor allowed him to spend his anger. He had expected as much.

‘Saxon, just be calm and listen. Please. Alyssa was dying at the time. The only way I could save my family was to support the lie. Sorrel disappeared with both children. She insisted that I should not tell Alyssa. It all made sense at the time—she promised me it was the only way to save the lives of the three people I suddenly loved more than anything.’

Saxon grunted. He was not convinced. ‘And?’

‘I went back…a day or so later. I could not live with myself: leaving Alyssa behind like that, half dead; letting my newborn children go off in the care of someone else.’

Tor could feel all the old distress and guilt rising in this throat. He took a breath.

‘Anyway, I went back to the Heartwood. There was no sign of anyone. I don’t just mean of Alyssa or the children, Sax, I mean of anyone having ever lived there. All trace of us had been wiped clean by the forest. Darmud Coril’s influence, I suspect.

‘Then I was captured. I was stunned to see Alyssa in Goth’s hands. She didn’t say a word to me from the moment she clapped eyes on me again. We travelled to Tal with a heavy silence between us, though in truth I was not allowed to even ride near her. In the city, as you know, I was thrown in a dungeon and she was cared for at the Queen’s discretion. She was not permitted to visit. No words passed between us. No link. I was totally cut off from Alyssa. Even at the trial, all I could do was look at her. Then…well, you know the rest.

‘Saxon…are you listening, man? Even if I had wanted to tell her, I have never had the chance. What do you think this is all about? I have called the children back to Tallinor. It is time they knew of their parents; met me, met their mother…They must play their role, if they have one to play.’

Tor held his head. The guilt was heavy in his heart.

Cloot arrived back and began to clean the gore from his beak.

It was Saxon who broke the difficult silence. ‘Good feed, Cloot?’

Delicious! Cloot said and flapped his wings for Saxon’s benefit.

Is all well? he asked Tor.

He knows the whole story now, Tor replied.

It is right that he does. He will help when the time comes, Cloot said matter of factly.

Saxon rounded on Tor. ‘So where the hell have the children been all of this time? You can’t expect me to believe you don’t know?’

‘That’s the truth, Sax. Sorrel took them and she disappeared. I have never seen nor heard of them since that day of their birth in the Heartwood.’

Saxon continued to pace. ‘And you thought they had stayed in the realm?’

Tor stood and dusted the breadcrumbs from his cloak. The food felt sour in his belly now. ‘Initially I did. Later, as the years drew on, I figured Sorrel must have taken them from our Kingdom to another; which is obviously what she did do.’

‘But then how do you explain your son being grown? A young man, you said.’

‘I have absolutely no idea,’ Tor replied, totally confused.

‘Well, then it couldn’t have been Gidyon, Tor,’ Saxon said gently. ‘Otherwise he would be around five or six summers; no more. Time does not pass differently in other Kingdoms.’

Of course, you are both assuming the children remained in this Land, Cloot said, eyeing Tor, no longer interested in his ablutions.

Tor looked at his falcon and Saxon noticed the sharp change in his body language.

‘What did Cloot say?’ he asked.

‘He said we’re just presuming that Sorrel kept them in this Land.’

Saxon snorted. ‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’

Tor looked again at the falcon. What are you saying, Cloot?

Just that there is every possibility she took them beyond our world, to another world, where time perhaps moves differently…It’s just a notion.

Tor clapped his hands. ‘Of course! Cloot is saying that Sorrel could have disappeared to another world altogether, where time maybe moves differently.’

Saxon shook his head. ‘I think we’re reaching here.’

‘It makes all the sense in the world, Saxon. Open your mind! I left Sorrel with a dying woman, two newborn babies and the god of the forest. I have no idea of the extent of Darmud Coril’s powers, but if he became involved, he could have sent them anywhere. It is plausible. Think about it.’

Saxon finally shrugged. ‘Vaguely possible, I suppose.’

‘Come on,’ Tor said, a new vigour in his step. ‘We must hurry now to the Heartwood; no time to waste.’

Once they had travelled a safe enough distance from the burning village and it was only a faint glow on the horizon, Gidyon made everyone rest. He held Figgis in his arms all night and listened to the dwarf’s ragged breathing.

As the sun began to rise Figgis spoke to him. Thank you, he whispered.

It was frightening, Figgis. What have I done?

What you had to do. That village needed to be cleansed. You saved our lives.

I took dozens though.

All ready to meet their gods, I fear, Figgis reassured him. It was an evil place, Gidyon. Please forgive yourself.

I called to my father. I think I opened a link to him in my fear and my anger. I drew on his power, or something released mine…I’m not sure.

I met your father once.

You did?

Yes, not long ago. We were in a place called Cipres. You look so like him, you could pass for him.

Really? Gidyon felt uplifted to hear this.

We spoke only briefly. Two strangers, passing the time of day. I knew who he was but he did not know me.

I have so much to learn about.

That is why I am here. I shall teach you and I shall watch over you. You will never have to save me again.

So you are going to live? Gidyon said, relieved.

It takes more than a few broken bones to kill a Rock Dweller, my boy. Get me to the Heartwood and all shall be well.

He smiled a wonderful smile that made Gidyon feel safe and loved. He bent and kissed the little man on the forehead. Thank you for being here for me.

Always, Figgis said and drifted back into a painful doze.

Gidyon placed him tenderly on the soft grass where they had slept all night and covered him with his own jerkin. He hoped the rest would help to heal his friend. He would leave him quiet for a little longer.

Yseul was stirring. Gwerys still slept.

‘Yseul,’ Gidyon whispered, taking her hand and kissing it gently.

She opened her strange, sand-coloured eyes. ‘We’re safe, aren’t we?’

He nodded gently. ‘I promise.’

Yseul sat up and put her arms around him. ‘Forgive me for all those terrible things I said to you. I owe you so much, Gidyon. I don’t understand anything of what happened back there but—’

He hushed her words and stroked her hair. ‘I always keep my promises,’ he whispered.

She pulled back. ‘Who are you?’

‘The Gatherer of Souls, apparently.’ He grinned.

‘Don’t mock, it was all I could think of. Oh, I was so frightened.’

‘You were sensational. I drew courage from you, Yseul. You made me look weak by comparison.’

‘Not in the end though,’ she said, fixing him with her odd eyes.

He held her gaze. ‘Would you believe me if I told you I hardly understand it either?’

She searched his face, as she had done once before in the barn. ‘I do believe you. Strange events happen all the time. I trusted you the minute I saw you…I trust you now.’

‘Thank you,’ he said and meant it, because he really did not have an explanation which would stand much scrutiny.

She looked over at Figgis. ‘What about him, your friend?’

‘I shall carry him to where I am going. We will get help there.’

She nodded. ‘Where are you going?’

‘We’re headed for a township called Flat Meadows and then on to Axon.’

‘Oh, that’s by the Great Forest. People are scared of the forest.’

‘Scared?’

‘Well, respectful is probably a better way to put it. It houses ancient mysteries. I believe what I can see with my own strange eyes.’

They both laughed when she deliberately made them go cross-eyed.

‘And you, Yseul, where is home for you?’

‘It’s been so long, I’m not sure where to call home.’

He understood. ‘Then come with me. If you have nowhere to call home, you might as well travel with friends.’

She considered it and then smiled sadly. ‘It is very tempting,’ she said, then she leaned towards Gidyon and kissed him very briefly, very gently. ‘But this little boy here needs to know a real home. He needs a real mother and father who will love him. I think I must take him back to where he belongs.’

Again Gidyon understood, though he felt a flash of disappointment. ‘Where is that?’

‘Brittelbury. It is a week or more from here due east but we can journey slowly.’

Just then, as if by magic, they heard the sound of hooves. Several horses, obviously still spooked from the fire, had stuck together and were wandering in shock.

‘Not on a horse it won’t be,’ Gidyon said, winking. ‘Help me catch them.’

‘Slowly,’ she cautioned. ‘They will be fearful.’

Somehow Gidyon sensed they would not be afraid of him. He did not know how he knew this, but he proved himself true when he gently called to them and was able to keep them calm and still whilst he approached. Of course he could not know that this way with animals was a talent inherited from his mother. A few minutes later, the horses were happily munching grass next to them.

‘What about saddles?’ Gidyon said.

‘I used to ride bareback all the time as a child. I’m sure it will come back to me.’

He left her to squat down next to Figgis and ransack his pockets. He looked pleased when he returned. ‘You have this,’ he said, tipping a heavy pouch of coins into her hand.

Yseul peeped inside and then tipped a few out. ‘No, Gidyon, this is a fortune to someone like me.’

‘Trust me, he would want you to keep it and travel safely with your brother to your home. Is there enough for a saddle for each of you?’

‘You don’t know?’ she asked incredulously. ‘Gidyon, we could live more than well on this for several weeks. We could buy ten saddles and perhaps a few horses to go with them!’

‘Then I am glad. You both deserve it.’ He flipped a single gold coin into the air. ‘This will see us through. Promise me that you will stay at inns and be safe. Eat properly. Take the horses and sell them if you please when you get home. Just be careful.’

‘I don’t know what to say.’

‘There is nothing more. I wish you would come with me, but I understand why you cannot.’

‘I wish I could too,’ she said.

He kissed her. It was the first time he had ever really kissed anyone properly. It was magnificent and he wanted it to go on and on.

‘Are you sure we have to say goodbye?’ he said when they reluctantly moved apart.

‘You know the village where I live. Come and see me.’

He nodded. ‘I will.’

She looked at him intently. ‘No, you won’t, Gidyon. There is no reason why you should. You are here for a greater purpose, I feel.’

Gidyon could not bear the thought that he may never see her again. ‘Wait!’ he said, this time digging into his shirt pocket. He found what he wanted and, for the second time, pulled her palm open and dropped something into it.

‘What is this?’ she said, glancing at the smooth, dull stone in her hand.

‘This, believe it or not, is incredibly precious to me, Yseul. Promise me you will never lose it, never sell it, never give it away. It belongs to me but it will keep you safe until I come to collect it. There is my reason in your hand. One day, I shall come to claim what is mine,’ he said.

She smiled. ‘Then, as plain and curious as it is, I shall consider it as precious as you do; as precious as your friendship is to me.’

It felt strange to be giving away his stone, his only tie to his past, but it seemed more important that Yseul should have something of him. Something that promised they would see each other again.