The Tessellation Saga. Book Two. 'The One' (19 page)

Then she saw
her mother, pale, exhausted and beautiful, looking at her lovingly
and as Gath nodded, her mother’s face changed as her throat was
sliced open, dark red blood flowing fast into a large bowl held by
a man who frowned sadly,
Rhoàld, it was Rhoàld!
She
recognised him as tears fell from his eyes just as Gath took her
from her mother’s dying arms and held her to him laughing. She saw
the future and his intention toward her, his only daughter, Gath
wanted her child, she was to die as she birthed him the way her
mother had died birthing her. In the back of her mind, Lydia began
to plan her escape from that moment; Gath would not use her child
the way both she and her mother were used.

After pulling
the garden boy’s tongue to prevent the truth from being exposed,
Gath had the boy publically executed for rape. The dead boy’s
father knowing the truth of his son’s friendship bravely sought out
the princess, who for once came into the gardens alone and he
promised to help her if the need ever arose.

Gath and his
willingness to accept a bastard child into his family, the child of
a rapist and a servant at that, was once more seen by the people of
Derova and the surrounding kingdoms as the act of a generous and
loving monarch. The dead boy in their opinion had seen justice at
its best.

When Lydia had
run away, Gath’s powers had once again slowly begun to fail him and
although he sent teams across the country looking for his daughter,
each following his weakening seeker spells and verbal instruction
he found nothing. Finally, she disappeared, he could neither see,
nor feel her in the ether that was becoming faint and difficult for
him to enter once more. Then, he knew she was dead and taken his
salvation with her.

Now, just as
Lydia had disappeared so long ago, so Rhoàld too had vanished
taking Lemba with him. Gath did not understand, he had taken
Rhoàld’s blood and should have been able to locate him wherever he
was hiding and he had indeed once, his seeker had found him far
away across the hills and at the time, it amused him to think
Rhoàld believed he was getting away but now there was nothing.
Rhoàld was gone, he could feel his skin beginning to age and he
needed either Rhoàld’s blood or the boy Gideon, so he could become
truly young in body once more.

He looked
across at Darnel as he rode beside him, would Darnel appreciate a
younger body to play with, he thought as an image of Gideon rose in
his mind. Though even Gideon with his pure blood seemed able to
hide himself from him at will, Gideon’s magic was untrained,
without the knowledge and the training required the magic would
simply explode out of Gideon killing and destroying
indiscriminately.
He could not possibly have learnt enough
control in the last few weeks,
Gath thought.

His mind
drifted back once more to a time after Lydia’s death, when he had
felt lost, his ability to feel the magical blood of his people
deteriorating and his manhood failing fast alongside it, the way it
had in the desolate years before he had found Lena. He remembered
one time after her death when he had felt the call though and so
strongly he had left to castle to seek the source, desperate as he
was, he walked the streets of Devilly night after night until dawn,
as he followed the song. Sweet and pure it beckoned him come,
promising youth and vitality, then almost a week after it started,
the call stopped as if it had never been. He remembered venting his
frustration on numerous inhabitants of the dungeons ensuring their
last journey began painfully.

‘Jed Brewster.’
Gath voiced the name aloud; he had not felt the call of the blood
again until he had met the innkeeper’s son. Darnel seated on a
horse beside his lord looked at him questioningly. Gath said no
more, returning to his thoughts and pleased at the reprieve Darnel
returned to his own.
I should have known,
Gath thought,
remembering the way Jed’s blood had screamed at him,
blood
brother to my own son,
again, his thoughts drifted.

The prisoner,
the man from the bleak, the dirty man from the dungeon, almost an
animal when he had first arrived in chains, Hackman too had
betrayed him, allowing the creature to escape but not before Gath
had acquired the tattoo. The tattoo on the prisoner’s back had
called to him just as the magic did, it had spoken to him from the
start, there was just something about it, it struck a deep chord in
his mind, resonating and shaking up his memories. The man’s cell
carvings had finally been the catalyst; he finally remembered why
the two images struck him so. The Great Chamber of Justice, part of
which was drawn in ink on the man’s back and a huge hexagonal
crystal standing tall in the fore front of the tattoo and then the
whole chamber painstakingly represented on the solid stone walls of
the cell. From the twelve great pillars to the crystal-topped
throne, someone somewhere knew the way home.

The man had
come from ‘The Bleak’, captured as he tried to escape its
boundaries, it makes sense, he thought, I arrived on this world at
the bleak.

Gath had
arrived on earth through the gateway from Arotia, welcomed by the
sight of a blue sky and a crystal-clear lake. Trees and grasses had
been thick and green, the whole valley had been teeming with life
and vitality
, Themos and Thaddrick chose the area for that
reason I’m sure.
He thought, surprised that he could remember
both their names after so long.

‘Thaddrick, be
dammed to hell on this world or the next, I will get home.’ Gath
said his voice loud and full of steel as a vision of his last
encounter with Thaddrick came unbidden to his mind.

He twisted in
his saddle to take a last look at Devilly Castle knowing his last
and he hoped final instructions would be carried out to the letter.
Gath wanted every contingency covered even to his failing to return
home to Arotia.
If by some chance I do fail, well, I have
somewhere to return to
, he reasoned. Returning his gaze to the
road ahead, Gath felt discomfort in his neck, he had slept badly
and his neck was painful and stiff. In his mind, he could feel his
body aging; he needed blood but since Rhoàld had disappeared, his
need could not be sated, his paranoia returned with a vengeance.
Betrayal had originally marooned him on this accursed world,
Astin’s betrayal and then Rhoàld betrayed him with Bastian before
running away,
he ran knowing that I need his blood in order to
survive,
he thought angrily,
just like Lydia ran...
Lydia had also betrayed him by taking away his salvation and
without the blood or the child; Gath believed he would never return
home, he would grow old… and die. Gath’s thoughts had turned full
circle.

Morosely he
watched as the horses snorted loudly, sending plumes of hot white
breath, billowing out into the cold crisp air, dissipating quickly
only to be replaced by another and another, each breath aging the
animals a little more,
just like me,
he thought.
By the
journey, I want to be young again!
His thoughts screamed at
him. Glancing behind, he saw Darnel, alone like a god atop his
steed and almost hidden by the huge cloak he wore, Gath massaged
his neck with his free hand thinking he would order a stop soon.
The young man would be able to ease his tension, perhaps he would
order the carriage drawn up and he and Darnel could retire to its
warmth and its furs. The caravan could continue without him at its
head,
yes, that’s it, we will retire now,
he thought as he
called for a slight halt whilst he dismounted and signalling for
Darnel to follow, he made his way to the waiting carriage.

The caravan
continued on its way, heading toward Green Home Village by way of
Branton Town. That was the direction that his son’s outburst had
come from and by now he believed Toby would have him.
Once I
meet up with Hollins and have Gideon, no, have become Gideon, I’m
heading with my men into the bleak.
He thought, it had begun
there so many years ago and he was sure now that from there he
would find his way home.

‘We must travel
light and fast, I don’t know how long Gideon will be able to hold
out from the sickness once we are away from here,’ said Varan, as
the group gathered the next morning.

‘It’s a shame
we can’t take the protection of the forest with us,’ muttered Sonal
in return as Gideon’s grandfather suddenly grinned.

‘Iffen I may
‘ave a word in private gentlemen,’ he said smiling as Dotty’s party
in their hastily loaded carriage called love and goodbyes as they
set off down the road. Gideon’s father turned as he walked into the
cottage, he stood and watched as Jayson drove away the carriage
carrying his parents and Dotty. As he watched, Dotty raised a hand
in a good-bye that seemed directed only at him. The colour crept up
his neck as he called out.

‘I’ll be with
all o’ yer as soon as I can be Dotty…’ he shouted, surprising
himself at the depth of his affection for the young woman.

‘I know you
will and I’ll wait for you...’ she replied faintly, waving once
more. The carriage moved on, finally moving out of sight and for
the first time since his wife had died, Gideon’s father felt his
heart lurch as it disappeared from view.

‘Silly old
fool, she’s young enough ter be me daughter…’ he mumbled to himself
as he turned away to re-enter the house.

Between
preparing the abandoned military horses for the three-day ride and
loading a number of planks of Green Home wood to the cargo, Varan
and Sonal took the time to marvel at the carvings inside the barn.
The warm wood seemed alive and comforting, inspiring trust and
friendship.

‘The forest
must be a very special place Sonal, to inspire such love as this,’
said Varan, as he carefully ran a hand over the warm wood.

‘It is brother;
it’s been my home now for many years. I believe it’s been the
dictate of my destiny,’ he added, looking meaningfully at Varan.
Over the last few days he had begun to realise, Gideon was at the
heart of a lot more than just prophecy.

‘Military
horses are such useful creatures,’ smiled Sonal as he tied yet
another plank of wood to the side of the animal so conveniently
left behind by the soldiers, the horses were calm and obedient as
the stores were loaded on to the animals amongst the wood. Then
finally, all was ready. Sonal warned Gideon to inform them the
moment he felt ill and he and Mayan climbed onto the back of a
horse, Jed and Lemba also mounted a horse together leaving Jed,
Rhoàld, Sonal and Varan to ride separately.

Just prior to
the party setting off the elder twins walked around the cottage and
grounds holding each other, singing and gesticulating as they cast
spells of warding and protection. Gideon watched them thinking of
the way his father always placed the stones on the cairns of his
family before leaving home for any length of time and Jed, seeing
his son frowning, crossed to him.

‘Gid lad, we be
goin’ ‘ome, it’ll all be fine now, I know it.’ Gideon shuddered as
his father lifted his hand from his shoulder. Somehow, he knew this
was not over yet.

As the day wore
on Lemba saw the world with a different awareness. At first, Jed
talked to her, telling her what he knew of the slave markets in
Devilly and the plight of the Green Home families travelling toward
the same fate. Gradually though, as Lemba could not reply and the
talking remained one sided, the conversation drifted and slowed,
leaving each to their own thoughts. Jed became quiet and morose,
now no longer even attempting to converse, his thoughts were with
the suffering of his parents, the villagers and his own attempt on
Gideon’s life. Lemba thought of the pretty box with its grizzly
contents that she held securely in her jerkin and she sighed as she
wound her arms around Jed’s waist.

She held him
tightly, offering as much comfort and love as she could, she could
feel his sorrow and worry just as she had seen it the night before
in the cottage. She closed her eyes and rested her head against his
back listening to his heart beating and the blood pumping around
his veins. Exploring further and found she could feel the blood in
the horse between her knees, the power in its muscles, there,
quivering just waiting to be unleashed. She could almost see the
thoughts in its head, jumbled, full of grass and wind. Expanding
her sight further, she could feel the life and the hearts of birds
in the sky above her, the magic of the world felt as if it was hers
to command and she loved the way it made her feel, all glowing and
strong.

Opening her
eyes once more, she looked around at her companions, all of them
seemed to have an aura; she could feel them close by and strong.
Still experimenting with her newly found power, she closed her eyes
and tried to see through the magic and knowing roughly whereabouts
around her, her friends physical bodies were; she began to search
for them. As she searched, she could feel varying degrees of
strength all around, from the sap drawing up the boles of the trees
as they slept through the cold to tiny pulses of life she could
identify as animals hibernating nearby and then there was the fast,
furious heartbeats of the birds overhead. Magic is everywhere, she
thought as she once more she squeezed Jed, wishing he could join
her in her exploration; she felt his aura close and comforting
before her, again felt the horse under her and reached out further.
Two almost identical pulses both powerful and strong but complete
opposites, two sides of one whole, Sonal and Varan, their hearts
beating as one, Varan seemed linked to Jed somehow and through
Varan, Sonal, confused, she tried hard to follow the faint traces
of life flowing between the pair.