Revenge (35 page)

‘What about food? There are no farms or villages in that direction.’

Lauryn remembered the apples in her pocket. It was hardly a meal but they would suffice. She was anxious to be on her way. ‘I’ll survive,’ she said and turned.

‘If you ever get to Tal, ask for me,’ he called after her.

She did not look back.

It had sounded like a good idea until she found herself on the moors. What would she not give for the strong back of Bryx and the broad chest of Gyl to lean against now? It was a comforting thought. She would hold that picture of the handsome Under Prime in her mind’s eye. Lauryn was exhausted from climbing; she had not realised how much the day’s terror had taken out of her. Alone, feeling lost and past being hungry, she wanted to cry, but she battled through it.

Finally, as dusk settled, she found a reasonably sheltered spot to rest, knowing the night’s chill would descend quickly. After gobbling down two of the apples, she pulled her shawl tightly around herself and drifted into a deep sleep.

In her fright and subsequent jumbled thoughts, she had forgotten to link with Gidyon, but in this she was fortunate. As Lauryn slept, Gidyon was unleashing an awesome vengeance on the town of Duntaryn.

She woke uncomfortably just as dawn was breaking across the moors. Bones aching from her cold, hard bed and feeling nauseous from the lack of food, Lauryn cast.

Gidyon answered her immediately.
At last!

She was grumpy enough without this sort of comment.
Really? Well, the last time I dropped by you asked me to leave.

She had not meant to react so viciously. In fact, Lauryn would have given anything at that moment to feel his long arms around her and hear his voice telling her that everything was going to be all right.

Good morning, Lauryn. I see you’re in your usual charming mood,
he replied, though not unkindly.

If only you knew what’s happened since we last spoke, you’d be more gentle.

That won his full attention.
What has happened? Are you safe?

It felt comforting to hear such fright in his voice. How special it was to know someone cared.

Yes, I’m fine now. Sorrel isn’t doing so well.
She faltered, fought back the tears again.
Oh, Gidyon…Sorrel’s dead.

She told him everything from the moment she and Sorrel had encountered the overturned cart. He was silent throughout. It was a shock for him to hear the terrible story.

What about you? What happened yesterday?
she asked as an afterthought.

This was not the time to tell her, Gidyon decided.
Oh, it was all a misunderstanding. Everything is fine. Figgis and I are setting off now.

Who is Figgis?

Long story,
he replied
. How long do you think it will take you to get to Axon?

That fellow Gyl said I’d be able to reduce the time by around a couple of days, so I’m guessing it must be roughly a two-day walk from here.

Keep the link open for me, Lauryn. Even if we’re not speaking, at least we can both feel connected and together. Are you breakfasted and ready to leave?

Well, I have this lonely apple just dying to hit my belly.

She heard him chuckle
. You’re doing better than us then! We have nothing. Start walking.

It did feel so much better having him inside her head. After a long stretch, the final apple and a few sips of water which she found captured in the large leaves of a plant she remembered Sorrel saying made the best tonic for arthritis, Lauryn felt renewed. She pushed sad thoughts of Sorrel from her mind and resumed the hard trudge.

After a happy reunion with the Quist family, the three travellers spent barely a day in Caradoon. Tor was eager to begin their journey back to the Great Forest. There was no time to waste; he must find his children.

‘And so again, goodbye, Tor,’ Eryn said, squeezing his hand. ‘Cloot is beautiful.’ She smiled and whispered her next words. ‘I envy his time with you.’

Tor looked to where Saxon and Quist were joking about the bump on the head which Saxon had sustained on their first meeting; the Kloek was pretending it still troubled him.

‘Janus is mad for you, Eryn. He worships you.’

‘I know. And I feel the same towards him…in my own strange way. I meant what I said at the wharf. Only Alyssa could satisfy you, Tor.’

Eryn instantly regretted her words, knowing he
would punish them—as he did, taking great relish to embarrass her.

‘Well now, that depends on what type of satisfaction you could be referring to.’ He grinned.

‘Hush! Do you forget my husband stands so close?’ But she was laughing at his teasing, loving that they could do this. ‘Be careful with Locky this time, please.’

‘I am sending him straight back, I promise.’

Eryn glanced towards where Locky stood, stroking the muzzle of his horse. He too was eager to be on the road with Tor and Saxon.

‘He won’t like it.’

‘He’s too young, Eryn. Still too eager to die bravely. He needs a few women in his life.’ He kissed her hand. ‘Then he will know that life is worth clinging to.’

The horses, which had been generously provided by Quist, made the travelling much quicker and it was only a day before they came to the southern-most point of Caradoon’s reach.

It was a pleasurable ride, with Cloot flying ahead and Saxon, in fine form, regaling them with stories of Cirq Zorros and his life with the Shield.

The Heartwood calls, Tor,
Cloot said gently, as they first glimpsed the finger of the Great Forest.

Tor could see that Locky did not want to leave. His request to stay with them was almost bursting from his lips. Tor jumped in before he could speak.

‘Locky, you have been a great friend to us. Promise me you will take care of your sister. I don’t doubt that next time we meet you will be a captain aboard your own pirate ship and every bit as good as Quist.’

Locky smiled sadly. ‘Except it is not the sea that beckons, Tor. I wish to join the Shield.’

Tor nodded. ‘So I hear. Give it another year, Locky, and perhaps Saxon here can speak for you. He drinks with the Prime.’

Locky’s eyes shone. ‘Is that right, Saxon? You really are close to Prime Herek?’

Saxon enjoyed the reflected glory. ‘On my word. Beef up a bit, Locky, and keep up your study. I’ll talk to Herek for you but not until you’re fifteen summers, boy.’

‘Deal!’ Locky said and spat into his hand.

Saxon did the same and they shook on the promise.

Tor was relieved. He had no intention of dragging Locky into his world again if he could help it. He was safe with his sister, as far north as possible and away from Tal.

Saxon said the needful. ‘Well, Locky. Let’s see you on your horse now and headed home with the other two before we leave for the forest.’

Locky grinned and after giving the two men a brief hard hug, he waved to Cloot. It was a childish gesture and Tor was sad that Locky would never know that Cloot understood it very well and had even responded.

May the Light shine your path home safely, boy,
Cloot called but only Tor heard.

They waved until Locky, leading the other two horses, had cantered around a bend in the road and they could no longer see him. Tor turned with Saxon towards the forest.

‘Home, Sax,’ he said, looking towards the sanctuary of the trees.

‘It’s good to be back,’ the Kloek replied.

Shoulder to shoulder, the men walked towards the first line of trees, which whispered their welcome back to the Heartwood.

Standing on the fringe of the forest was Arabella. She wiped away tears of relief to see the two men she loved returning to her. The trio hugged before entering the darkness and serenity of the Great Forest.

The rest of Gidyon’s journey to Axon was uneventful. He carried Figgis the whole way; something the little man found intolerable yet, at the same time, too wonderful for words. On the one hand, he felt humiliated at being so weak—it was painful to see a Paladin having to resort to being carried like a child! On the other hand, he just loved looking up into the face of the young man who not only had saved his life, but was now Figgis’s reason for living. He was bonded to the boy and would protect him with his own life, until death released him.

Figgis had only spent a short while in Torkyn Gynt’s presence but he was often astounded to see how clearly reflected the father was in the son. Gidyon was certainly his father again in looks, and even in the lilt of his voice and the way he carried himself. How they compared in personality was yet to be seen, though Figgis fancied the similarities would be strong. Gidyon had already shown the icy courage his father was famous for.

‘Figgis, my friend, guess what?’ Gidyon said chirpily.

‘I hope you are going to tell me we are at Axon,’ Figgis replied.

‘We are. There’s the signpost—one mile.’

Gidyon put his friend on the ground so Figgis could take a better look, then cast to Lauryn to let her know they had arrived. He felt pride at being able to do this; since the eruption of his power at Duntaryn, he had found it easy to open his own link to her.

The Rock Dweller looked at their surrounds for a moment or two. Finally he decided. ‘We must head straight into the forest from here.’

Gidyon shook his head. ‘How do you know?’

‘The Heartwood will help us. The whole forest will assist in guiding us to where I hope your father awaits. Let’s go.’

Gidyon picked up his friend again and marched straight towards the trees in the distance. ‘Won’t be long now,’ he thought aloud.

‘Are you nervous, child?’

‘No. Not nervous. Just full of anticipation. I’ve spent all my years wondering about who my parents
might have been, why I was alone. This is the biggest thing to happen in my life.’

Figgis sighed inwardly, imagining what lay ahead. ‘Oh, I think we might do better in time,’ he said.

‘Figgis, look!’

In front of them stood an enormous silver wolf. She waited patiently on the fringe of the forest, looking directly at them.

‘I was told to expect a donkey, a priestess or a wolf…it’s the wolf. It’s beautiful,’ he said in a reverential tone.

‘That, my boy, is no ordinary wolf. Her name is Solyana.’ Figgis’s voice was thick with emotion. ‘Please, Gidyon, get me to her.’

Gidyon almost ran to where the wolf stood serenely gazing at them.

Figgis threw his arms around the wolf’s neck and Gidyon was shocked to see him weep into her thick fur. Solyana licked Figgis. It was a tender scene and he felt like an intruder. Suddenly he heard the wolf’s gentle voice in his head. It was beautiful, like her.

Do not mind us, Gidyon. We have not seen each other in a long, long time. I am truly honoured to welcome you back to the Heartwood, child. This is your home always. The Heartwood will always protect and love you.

Gidyon was astonished. The wolf had spoken into his head with such ease and grace that he was without words. Instinctively he bowed low with respect for this magnificent beast. He assumed she must be Paladin too and had therefore also done her time of
battle. He hoped he would live up to all of their expectations—whatever those expectations were.

Figgis was drying his eyes. The link was still open and Gidyon used it.

My…my father?
he asked hesitantly of the wolf.

Awaits you, child. Come.

He was entranced by her. He picked up Figgis, buried his fingers into the thick, silver-tipped fur of his new friend and walked beside her into the Heartwood.

Lauryn had lost sense of time completely. Dizzy from lack of food, and exhausted beyond her own comprehension, she forced herself to put one foot in front of the other, covering ground slowly but steadily. The climbs had been the worst, but during them she had made Gidyon talk to her, sing to her, tell her funny stories—anything to keep her going. And for each climb she was rewarded with an easy run down the other side. She often fell, grazing her elbows and knees or stinging herself on thistles and nettles, but she stood up again with grim determination and continued. Each step brought her closer to the Heartwood; she would not give up now. Sorrel had died bringing her this far. She would make it.

Finally she glimpsed the sight Gyl had told her of: the natural dip of the land in which the village of Axon nestled. And, to the left, the Great Forest. She had not known she had anything left in her but she
surprised herself by breaking into a trot. She did not fall down this time and she hit the flats at a hard run.

Gidyon had told her he and Figgis had arrived at Axon but after that, the link had disappeared. She did not worry; she was too close herself. She could smell the smoke of the village fires but she veered away from Axon and pushed herself harder towards the dark and mysterious trees.

Finally she stood on the forest’s fringe. She was breathing very hard, pulling in deep drags of air. She bent and put her hands on her knees. Funny, they felt knobbly for the first time ever. She kept breathing. Steady it. Calm down. When she felt her breathing was easier, she stood up again…and saw it.

Munching nonchalantly on some grass and staring at her was a donkey. Sorrel had said to expect a priestess, a wolf or a donkey and she and Gidyon had laughed about it. Yet the old girl had spoken true. There was no mistaking it. A donkey was waiting for her.

Lauryn took a step forward and her legs felt like jelly. She dug deep. She kept her eyes—which were beginning to blur—firmly on the munching donkey and willed her legs to carry her to it.
Just get there
, she told herself with each painful step.
The donkey will help.

She thought she might have reached out her hand to touch the animal but suddenly she felt hard ground come up and hit her. When Lauryn regained her senses, she realised she had fallen at the feet of the
animal, which was now nudging her. She was so fatigued that she felt numb and the dizziness was ever present, yet the donkey insisted. Its velvety muzzle kept refocusing into her vision, imploring her with its persistent pushing. Using the animal for support, she dragged herself with an enormous effort to her feet and fell across its back, which felt warm and strong.

She thought she heard the trees whispering to her. It sounded in her blurring mind as though they told her to climb on the donkey. It sounded like a reasonable idea. With the aid of a tree trunk and some careful positioning by the creature, she miraculously hauled herself up onto its back and immediately fell forward, an arm either side of its neck and her head lolling against its mane.

Lauryn felt the beast turn gently and then pace slowly but surely into the deepening, safe green of the forest.

Amongst the tall trees of the Heartwood, Cloot found peace. The whispering of the leaves and swaying of the branches comforted him and he felt a sense of absolute security. He was home. Where he belonged. Where it was safe.

Below, Tor and Saxon spoke quietly. They had drunk from the fresh waters of the Heartwood’s stream and eaten lavishly from the spread which the Heartwood had provided. They spoke of what lay ahead. As Tor raised the issue of how he might be
allowed to speak with Alyssa again, he was interrupted by Solyana across the link.

Tor,
she called gently
. I bring you Gidyon, your son.

He swung around sharply. From the deep cover of trees and into the clearing padded the wolf, accompanied by two people. One was very tall and lean with dark hair, and Tor realised that he looked at a reflection of himself.

Both he and Saxon leapt to their feet. They had anticipated a lad but it was a young man who stood before them, his hand resting on Solyana. She, rather comically, was being ridden by a dwarf. But no one laughed.

It was Saxon who reacted first. ‘Figgis!’ he roared.

The noise shook father and son from their shocked silence.

Tor took several tentative steps towards the child he had held only briefly as a newborn. He looked into the bluest of eyes, which regarded him intently, nervously.

‘Gidyon?’ he whispered.

The Heartwood became silent. All eyes watched the son.

Throughout the long walk south to Axon, Gidyon had tried to prepare himself for this event. Although he thought he was ready to meet his father, he had been wrong. Nothing could have prepared him for this spine-tingling moment.

Solyana spoke gently to the man who had jumped up at her voice. He looked stunned to see Gidyon.
Gidyon hoped his own face did not betray him, as he wondered what the man had been expecting. He felt so nervous he could feel his pulse pounding behind his ear.

There he was, the man he should now call father.

There was no mistaking that it was his father, of course. Gidyon felt as if he was looking at himself in a decade’s time. Yargo had told Lauryn and himself that their father was still a young and extraordinarily handsome man. She was right: those intensely blue eyes pinned him to the spot and refused him movement.

And then his father spoke his name. All his good intentions to remain composed fled at the sound of that voice and he wept. The Heartwood watched its son crumple.

Tor reached his boy in three long strides and, without further hesitation, wrapped his arms around the child and shared his tears, lifting him so he could hug him close to his chest and tell him how much he loved him.

It was only when Tor and Gidyon finally let go of one another that they appreciated the silence which surrounded them; the respect which the Heartwood and its inhabitants had accorded them during this moment of reunion.

Tor’s voice was choked with emotion. ‘My son…we have much to talk about.’