Annatrice of Cayborne (4 page)

As Annatrice sat back upon a bench covered with soft cushions, she closed her eyes and hoped that in her dreams, she would be able to see her father as he once was and not the bloodied corpse that lingered in her memories. Before any frightful visions could take hold however, she had already drifted into a deep sleep, a sleep so vacuous that she could not even be revived to make the short journey to her new bed. Marianne stood over her as she extinguished the last candle, her thoughts darkened by the anticipation of another 'new beginning'. Tragian had much to answer for yet in this respect she was powerless to intervene. The least she could do was to provide some light in the darkness of their lives and do all she could to make their suffering a little more bearable.

CHAPTER FOUR

Annatrice awoke suddenly, her mouth and nose covered by a rough gloved hand. Her body was lifted up and dragged, the force of her attacker far too great to repel. It was dark and a curious sensation took hold of her body accompanied by a potent and acrid smell. Her limbs numbed and her head spun as her consciousness ebbed away.

When Annatrice fought back and her conscious actions once again under her control it was still dark but she was moving. The bulk of her attacker was still far too great for her to move freely but she could at least get a rough idea of her surroundings. The feeling of cold and wet seemed to dictate to her that she had left the keep, a sudden gust of wind confirmed that she was being taken outside. There was someone in front, a tall shadowy figure. Straining her neck and rolling her eyes up as far as she could make them go, she caught a glimpse of the man that carried her roughly. The features were pronounced, the skin hard and the face hairy. It was a face that she could never forget...Jeaynus.

Flitting in and out of consciousness, the next sensation that tore her away from an oblivious sleep was the fast winds and the rocking motion of being on horseback. The sound of pummelling horse's hooves upon soft ground told its own story. Another horse ran alongside, Heynagan's bulky midriff and wild red hair were distinctive even at a distance, it was clear that her father's murderers were keen to finish what they had started.

Annatrice called out, a large holler manifested itself as a pathetic squeal as the effects of the drugs had not yet worn off. It was enough of a whimper to focus the attention of her assailant and he called out to his accomplice to halt their animals. Annatrice did not wait for Jeaynus to pull her from the horse and she slid off the rounded rump of the creature and flopped to the wet grass below. They had travelled far enough from Fontayne to be in an open expanse of darkness, the moons light being dulled by the heavy cloud. The soldiers dismounted quickly and stood over Annatrice as she pulled herself to her feet. The rain was driving and she pulled her hair away from her face.

“Leave me alone!” She screamed as loudly as she could although she was barely audible above a crackle of thunder and the splattering rain upon the soldier's shoulders.

“Stop, don't fear us!” Heynagan replied. His benevolent tone belied the rough treatment.

“Yes, we're...rescuing you!” Jeaynus called out as he wiped his face of water as it soaked his beard.

Annatrice caught a glimmer of light in Jeaynus' eye and swallowed hard. Her heart was pounding and her senses heightened.

“No. That's not true. You're going to kill me!” She cried hysterically as the realisation set in.

“No, come with us and you'll be safe!” Jeaynus reiterated his apparent benevolence. Annatrice looked over to Heynagan who remained silent and pensive. It was clear to Annatrice not only what the soldier's intentions were but also how they planned to carry out their despicable actions. It was a vision in Annatrice's mind so vivid that it could only be true.

“No, I can see your thoughts! You must kill me before Tragian discovers what you did to me. You are going to take me to the Phryjia shrine and then cut my throat.”

Jeaynus looked at Heynagan who returned his dismayed expression. Annatrice turned her attention to Heynagan who looked decidedly uncomfortable.

“But
you
...
you
don't want to kill me. You were hoping I'd escape. I...I can escape if you want me to? Please...let me go?”

Annatrice's remarkable statement was not a fanciful plea with any substance. Heynagan shook his head in astonishment as the Cayborne girl plucked the thoughts from his head and put more doubt in to his mind and addled his already guilt riddled thoughts. Jeaynus looked over to Heynagan with a grimace.

“No. We can't allow it. You know what will happen if she talks. By Gods he might find out anyway.”

Heynagan waved his hands in agitation.

“You intend to slice this maid's throat like a sheep for mutton? Do you not have enough penitence in you already man?”

Jeaynus reared up as he realised that Annatrice, who stood and watched in horror, was on the path to truth when she spoke those things.

“Twenty years we've been ridin' together and you put this witch before your own flesh and blood, cousin?”

Heynagan stood his ground.

“I'll not have this girls slaughter on my conscience; I’m too old to bear the weight of it. I am already paying for my sins havin' broken the child in!”

“Do you know what you're saying, cousin? You'll give me no choice but to put an end to ya?” Jeaynus refused to give an inch to Heynagan's demands. Either way, someone's will was about to be denied and a life taken.

“It's the girl, she is a witch! She is addling your thoughts; it is her curse on you for breakin' her!” Jeaynus screamed out all the while his sword hand hovered over his hilt.

“Please Heynagan, don't let him do it!” Annatrice yelped, her face contorted with anguish and tears streaming from her face intermingling with the rain.

“I cannot go against my cousin girl, can ye not see I am in an impossible situation!” The sympathetic soldier replied and Annatrice knew she was losing the battle.

“No, please! He does not only intend to kill me, he wants me again, I have seen it! I have seen it!”

Heynagan looked over to Jeaynus who thrust his shoulders back defiantly.

“Did you plan on taking her before or after you bled her, cousin?” Heynagan's tone was aggressive; he seemed to now take Annatrice's word as truth.

“What matter does it make? You speak with the lips of a preacher yet your hands are as dirty as mine. I'll not bow down at the knees of a hypocrite!”

With that Heynagan lunged at Jeaynus bringing the giant man to the ground before he could unsheathe his blade. Annatrice backed off not knowing if to run or wait to see the conclusion of the conflict. The men rolled around the sodden grassland, fists flailing and throats growling. It was a shocking and violent scene; the soldiers were powerful and experienced in hand to hand combat. Annatrice turned to run when she abruptly halted and held her hands to her head.

“No, he has a knife! Heynagan!”

Jeaynus reached down to his boot and with the very tips of his fingers, managed to free the blade. Taking a firm grip, he swung his arm back to deliver a stabbing blow which would have ended Heynagan's resistance, however alerted by her urgent scream, Annatrice's defender reached out and clasped Jeaynus' wrist. With the weight of his bulk on top, Heynagan held the advantage and with Jeaynus' grip on his stealthy blade slipping, in a moment of utter despair, Heynagan turned the knife around and plunged the cold steel deep into his cousins chest, pushing it all the way in to the hilt with the weight of his upper body. There was no gurgled cry or whimper of pain. Jeaynus' own weapon had pierced his lung on its way to splicing his heart in two. Jeaynus' body fell limp and Heynagan lay for a while upon him, as if in a sorrowful parting embrace.

Heynagan rolled over and brought himself to his feet, he was visibly shaking, his face full of grief and anger. Annatrice stood there fearful of what might happen next and she looked him in the eye for some kind of reassurance that she would not suffer the same fate.

“So, what am I thinking now?” Heynagan hissed, clearly highly moved by the murder of his own blood.

Annatrice inhaled deeply, her face equally as grieved as she felt his utter deflation.

“You're wondering if I was worth it. You're wondering if I am worth the life of your friend.”

Heynagan rolled his head back and closed his eyes.

“I am a doomed man. I must return you to Fontayne for they will hunt me down if I dare not. Even if I return, it will only be a matter of time before my sins are discovered. I am killed either way.”

Heynagan gasped a breath so telling that it was impossible to not feel the sudden solitude that he felt.

“I'll not tell. You have my word!” Annatrice blurted out in an attempt to appease him. It was a gesture not lost on the giant.

“Aye and I believe your word. You have the heart of a lion and the vision of a seer but I have set myself on a path of exile from this place.”

“And what of me? What path will I follow?” Annatrice asked understanding the feeling of emptiness.

“You'll return to the castle. I cannot offer you the life of which you're are destined. There you will live in comfort, you will see an education. I believe there you will also have your time to seek the vengeance your father's end deserves.”

Annatrice was certainly confused and emotional. She had mixed feelings about returning to the castle as some kind of prisoner, yet the alternative was more unedifying. To wander around the land without a protector was idiocy; even at her tender age she knew this not to be a sensible option.

“Annatrice, you have an extraordinary power. Use it wisely and you will have all you could desire, use it unwisely and you'll see the axe at dawn. Mark me; take this advice from an old man who has learned from his many mistakes.”

Annatrice did not need to be told Heynagan's opinion; she could look into his eyes and take it right from his mind itself. When she looked into his heart, she knew he was contrite and a soul who had been lost and perhaps reborn.

“You've given me a second chance, girl.” He added as he walked back to his cousin and paid his last respects. Heynagan knelt and held his palm to Jeaynus' chest. Noticing the girl had disappeared from his peripheral vision, he looked around only to see Annatrice walking off in the distance, back in the direction of the castle. Heynagan smiled and shook his head in frustration. Annatrice knew that Heynagan's return to the castle would complicate things and even though the soldier was not the brightest candle in the dark, he was all too aware that she had once again shown compassion when none was deserved.

The warrior slung his fallen comrade over his precious horse, mounted his own steed and pushed on towards the dark horizon. Maybe he would one day again cross paths with the extraordinary girl, or maybe hear of her deeds from afar. One thing was for sure, he knew that the name Annatrice of Cayborne was one that would resonate across the lands in the fullness of time.

CHAPTER FIVE

The morning sun greeted Araman as the storm which had blown hard across the landscape finally passed over and on to the more northerly territories of Eastern Corustyn. Annatrice stood once again in the warm chamber awaiting Marianne as a burly but curiously friendly guard watched over her. Marianne was barely aware that her charge had even left the castle when she was presented to her that morning. Sopping wet, filthy and exhausted, Annatrice did not know what to expect from her seemingly benevolent nanny as Marianne stood open mouthed with shock as she listened to the guard's tale.

“So then I saw the poor lovely waiting at the gates all wet through.” The guard said feeling a sense of responsibility for the safe return of the child.

“And how did you come to be wandering the county in the middle of a stormy night, child?” Marianne's question was valid. She could not understand how she could have escaped the castle walls without escort. Annatrice looked dog tired and was silent. It was clear that her secret would remain so for the time being and Marianne in her wisdom did not press the matter any further.

“Thank you for returning her safely to me, I will see to it that you receive some reward for your trouble.” Marianne said as the guard straightened his back and lifted his weight to the balls of his feet in kind regard.

“No trouble at all Madam. In fact it was she who demanded to be brought back here, I merely followed her instructions.” The guard replied looking down upon Annatrice and smiling, clearly demonstrating a soft spot for the unusual girl.

Marianne ushered Annatrice to the dormitory which was empty, the other girls clearly up and about. Annatrice fairly fell into her bed and was asleep before her head hit the pillow. Marianne stood over her and watched her shallow, fast breaths as she exhibited the tell tale signs of a fitful dream filled slumber. In the matriarch's mind, there was already something curious about this new arrival, something otherworldly that she could not place. She pondered on what lie ahead for the child as she left to attend her many other duties leaving the child to sleep once more.

When Annatrice finally awoke many hours later, it was to the aroma of food and her empty belly soon began to gurgle with impatience. Marianne had clearly left a clean set of clothes by her bedside and after tidying herself up a little, she wandered through the dormitory into the day room where she found the source of the delicious smells. A long table on the far side of the room was filled with silver platters of assorted meats and bread and around the length of the table, the ladies sat quietly as the curious sounds of cutlery clashing were the only noises to be heard. Marianne noticed Annatrice's entrance and she beckoned her over and sat her at the far end of the table whilst the other girls sat and stared.