The Named
Page 19
I flick a look at Arkarian. ‘He most certainly did, Isabel,’ he says softly. ‘He is a true hero.’
As she smiles at me, mistaken love shining clearly through her eyes, I try to catch Arkarian’s look. He quickly glances down, but not before I glimpse the pain and anguish that fills him.
Chapter Thirty-three
Ethan
Isabel believes that she was only unconscious; her memories are sketchy and vague, the grey place of the middle lands registering only as a subconscious memory. After assuring himself that her wound is healed and her recollections hazy enough not to cause her undue worry, Arkarian delivers her home.
But not me. He knows my thoughts, I’m baring them plainly for him to read. This mission should not have had the added danger of Marduke. Arkarian was aware of the threat, and so was the Tribunal, and yet still they let Isabel do it. They’ve been rushing her right from the start, with only a few weeks’ training, and this was the result: her near death. What the hell is going on?
As soon as she leaves, Arkarian takes me to a different room, this one resembling a bar with bottles and armchairs and stools, but empty of customers. He pours us both a drink and takes the bottle with him, we find seats by a window. It looks out on nothing but dark swirling mist. I taste my drink and at first think it’s just a soft drink of cola, but one burning sip later I realise it’s something much stronger.
I get straight to the point. ‘Isabel must be released from the Guard and her memory erased so she can live a normal life again.’
Arkarian downs his entire drink in one gulp and pours another. ‘This is the life she wants. She’s tasted it, she wants more, she was born for it.’
‘No, Arkarian. It’s too dangerous.’
‘She’s a healer, Ethan. There’s a purpose to her life other than her mortal one. If she didn’t understand this, her healing skills would frighten and confuse her.’
He might be right, but being frightened and confused is better than being dead. ‘Surely there is a way around that? A way of enlightenment.’
‘Impossible—’
‘You must stop her!’
He sighs deeply. ‘I wish I could, Ethan.’
We remain quiet for a moment, both staring into the swirling mist.
‘We nearly lost her today,’ I remind him.
He lifts his eyes to mine in silence.
‘Can you guarantee something like this won’t happen again?’
‘No.’ He holds my gaze.
‘Did you know you were her soul-mate?’
‘If I did, I would have gone in the first place.’
‘What does this mean?’
He pushes his blue hair back and lets it fall again, obscuring his eyes. ‘Some people live their whole lives unaware of who their soul-mate is. It has to be this way with Isabel.’
‘Why?’
‘We can never be together.’
‘But if you care for her …’
He glances across at me. ‘Firstly, there’s the matter of my youth retention. This skill separates us into two completely different worlds. I can’t live in hers; she would never have a normal life in mine, and she deserves that. Second – and this is a good thing – she’s in love with you.’
‘It’s a mistake. I see this now. I mean, we’re the best of friends and that’s what we were meant to be in the first place. All those years as kids when she trailed after me and Matt, she just wanted to do the same things we did because they were fun things to do. And if we had allowed her to join us, then Isabel and I would have been best friends from the start, as we should have been, as we are now at last.’
‘I’m sorry you feel that way. If I could choose anybody for Isabel, I would choose you, Ethan. You would be good for her.’
‘But it wouldn’t be right, Arkarian.’
His shoulders droop as he stares into the remains of another drink, looking as if all is lost. As we sit in silence I think about this soul-mate business. What if I didn’t know Arkarian was Isabel’s real soul-mate, would it make a difference to how I feel about her? I doubt it. But I do know one thing. ‘If I had a chance of knowing who my soul-mate was, I would definitely take it.’
Arkarian glances up at me. ‘Would you? What if she were someone from the other side?’
His question challenges my thoughts. How would I react if that were true? I decide Arkarian is just being particularly morbid. But his words do remind me of just how I’ve felt lately about the Guard – like I’m only a pawn on a chessboard in a game Arkarian is playing.
‘Not me, Ethan,’ he says. ‘I’m also a pawn.’
‘Then who’s running this show? The members of the Tribunal?’
‘The Prophecy.’
‘Which was written before time. Ever since reading it again with Isabel I’ve been bothered by one particular line – one even more than the others.’ He waits and I ask the question weighing heavily on my mind. ‘Tell me, who is the lost warrior that must return?’
Arkarian peers at me with eyes that wonder just how much I’ve figured out. ‘Who do you think it is?’
‘Marduke?’
‘He’s the one called traitor.’
All this secrecy is driving me crazy. ‘With all that’s happened lately, haven’t we come too far for more half-truths?’
‘That we have, Ethan.’
But he doesn’t elaborate. So I try to work it out. The Prophecy says a warrior must return, which means this person has to have left the Guard at some time. Why would anyone do that? They sure would need a good reason. Nothing short of death would make me … These thoughts of death get my mind churning on a different level. What if it wasn’t your own death that separated you from the Guard? What if it was the death of someone so close to you that their loss forced you into making the most drastic decision of your life? Like the death of your own daughter?
And now I recall Arkarian asking whether my father ever asked me strange questions, whether he wondered where I go in my sleep.
Finally, something shifts in my brain like a gear stick. ‘The returning warrior is my father, isn’t it?’
Arkarian remains silent, just keeps looking at me while I put these particular pieces together to form the correct picture. I lean forward in my seat, working it out. ‘My father was Marduke’s partner.’ And then the main piece slots into place. ‘You mean … he was the one who maimed Marduke in a fight that turned him traitor?’
‘Never doubt it, Ethan, Marduke turned himself into a traitor.’
‘So why Sera?’
‘Marduke killed your sister because he believes the disfigurement resulting from the duel is the reason his woman left him. The mother of their small child.’
This is hard to believe. ‘Because of vanity, my sister is dead?’
‘Vanity, pride, pain, bitterness, all things that feed the armies of the Order.’
‘Let me get this straight: Marduke turned traitor, giving up the Guard, because after his fight with Dad that left him scarred, his woman left him?’
Arkarian nods. ‘Taking their child with her, she disappeared, and Marduke believed it was because she didn’t want their child to look upon his disfigured face and be repulsed.’
‘Has anyone heard from her since?’ He doesn’t answer straight away and I get the message he doesn’t intend to. ‘OK, tell me this: what does Marduke want with Isabel?’
He sighs, running his fingers through his hair. ‘It’s complicated. His interest in Isabel remains unclear, but we do know that for him revenge has not yet been fully exacted.’
‘He killed my sister! And look at Dad, he’s a shell of himself! What more does he want?’
‘Marduke will only be satisfied when he and your father duel to the death. He killed little Sera because she was beautiful and he wanted to take from your father that which was most beautiful to him. But he also wanted your father to suffer as he believes he has suffered.’
‘And as Dad was not a vain man it wasn’t his looks.’
&nbs
p; ‘But your father withdrew from the Guard, swearing he would never return. In this way he believed he was protecting his family from further pain and bloodshed.’
‘Does Dad know about me being in the Guard?’
‘He’s finally starting to suspect.’
‘Finally?’ Well, now I’m starting to understand. But with this understanding comes a burning inner rage. I fly up out of my seat, pointing my finger at Arkarian. ‘You’re using me to lure Dad back to the Guard, aren’t you? So he can finish his duel with Marduke, who won’t rest until it’s settled. That’s why you came to me when I was four years old. You’ve had my life planned all this time. By putting me in danger you think to draw my father out.’
‘Sit down, Ethan.’ Arkarian won’t be provoked.
I sit, my feet tapping and jerking restlessly while waiting for his explanation.
‘Get this straight: you were Named at birth. We don’t “make” members of the Guard, you are already “made”, so to speak. We’re aware from the day you are born, sometimes even before. But a member is given as long as possible to live their normal life. Only when their skills become obvious and start causing concern do we start the initiating process.’
‘That’s what happened with Isabel – she started healing herself.’
‘That’s right. With you it was different. You had just experienced the tragic death of your sister and were not coping. And as we didn’t want to lose a future member of the Guard to insanity, it was decided to initiate you at an early age.’
‘OK, I know that. So tell me why you want Dad to suspect I’m a member of the Guard? What happened to the secrecy code?’
‘Let me explain. Before little Sera was murdered, your father had started a three-part assignment, a very important mission, which he didn’t finish.’
More pieces fall into place as my memory flashes back to John of Gaunt’s bedroom. ‘That’s what John of Gaunt was referring to when he talked of the young man who helped him once but never returned. He must’ve been talking about Dad. He even said something about our eyes, and how mine were like this other man’s.’
‘What you and Isabel did that day was to fulfil the second part of your father’s mission – securing the rightful succession to the throne of England. But the third part of the mission remains incomplete, and now the situation is growing urgent. We need Shaun to finish the job, although it’s too late for John of Gaunt to see the result. He’s dying in a prison, put there by his nephew King Richard II.’
‘Was Dad supposed to rescue him?’
‘No; to die in that prison is John of Gaunt’s fate. Your father’s part was to protect his son as an infant, secure the crown for the child Richard, and ensure that the older King Richard continued with his plan to journey to Ireland. But now John of Gaunt will die thinking the pact he made to secure his son’s protection was dishonoured. Yet it’s not too late to ensure King Richard journeys to Ireland. Unfortunately, he has an adviser by his side who doesn’t have the right to be anywhere near the king, nor in that period of time. He’s one of the Order’s warriors, using the name of Lord Whitby, and he’s talking King Richard out of going.’
‘Let me get this right – all Dad has to do is get King Richard to continue with his plans to go to Ireland, and all three parts of his mission will be complete?’
‘You’ve got it.’
‘But why is King Richard’s journey to Ireland so important?’
‘So John of Gaunt’s son Henry, or Hal of Bolingbroke, as he is known, can come out of exile to mount his campaign against Richard, which he can’t do while Richard is still in London.’
‘So why can’t I complete this mission in Dad’s place?’
‘It’s a matter of honour, Ethan. Your father made a blood oath with John of Gaunt to protect his son. That can’t be fulfilled if Hal of Bolingbroke is never allowed home and dies in exile.’
‘But you can’t draw Dad out now that Marduke is hungry for revenge! It can only end in Dad’s death! There’ll be a duel for sure between them, and Dad hasn’t trained for many years. Marduke will slaughter him.’
‘Don’t underestimate your father, Ethan. He was our very best. And the conflict with Marduke must happen one day, be assured. Marduke will not rest, but will seek to harm others who your father loves.’
‘Or who matter to me,’ I suddenly realise.
Arkarian nods. ‘Marduke has been watching you and Isabel training these past few weeks. He’s seen how close the two of you have grown. A bond of friendship can be as strong as a bond of love.’
I groan, my face dropping into my open palms. Arkarian’s hand comes down on my head; warmth and a sensation of calm sweeps through me. ‘We don’t know exactly why Marduke wants to kill Isabel,’ he says softly. ‘All we know is that he’s getting desperate to force this confrontation. That’s why we have to act.’
I glance up into his face and feel his concern reach out to me. ‘Tell me, what happens if Dad doesn’t finish this mission to make sure King Richard II goes to Ireland as he’s supposed to?’
‘Richard will remain king, and eventually his marriage to the young Isabella will result in heirs—’
‘And history will change.’
‘Cataclysmically, and the odds of our winning the final conflict will weigh deeply against us. That is, if we’re lucky enough to exist any more.’
Reluctantly, I understand that athough we’re only pawns in this game, we’re quite important, for the game has evolved into a serious and dangerous reality. My father is part of it, and so am I. These are the facts.
I look straight at Arkarian. ‘What do you want me to do?’
Chapter Thirty-four
Isabel
I shift from the Citadel to my bed with the strong sense that someone is watching my transition. I open my eyes and look straight into my brother’s. He can’t know anything, of course, but after the experience I just endured, my nerves are right on edge. The sight of Matt sitting up in my green plastic chair, his serious dark eyes intent on me, gives me such a fright that I give a little scream. Then I notice he’s holding something in his hand, and to my mounting horror, realise it’s the notebook with the Prophecy written in it. Oh hell! I decide the only way to save this situation is to feign hysteria and scream louder.
Mum and Jimmy come running into my room, the door banging hard against the wall in their rush.
‘What’s wrong?’ Mum asks.
‘Was that you, sweetcakes?’ This from Jimmy.
These two people are the last thing on my mind right now. I must get Matt to give back the notebook and forget about it. Arkarian’s face swims into view before my eyes. What on earth will he think of me when he finds out how careless I’ve been?
Acting as if Matt has woken me from a deep dream, I pull myself up into a sitting position with the intention of yelling, ‘Matt leave me alone!’ but the first word that comes out of my mouth is not Matt’s name at all. ‘Arkarian!’ I scream at the top of my voice. Oh, No! Did I just call out Arkarian’s name?
I try to collect my thoughts quickly. ‘I mean … Matt, what the hell are you doing here? You scared me half to death. What’s the matter with you?’ I try to distract him as everyone starts talking simultaneously.
Matt stands up with his hand in the air, the notebook swinging loosely from it, as he attempts to shut everybody up. Finally, Mum and Jimmy calm down and Matt turns to me. ‘I came in here earlier to ask you something, but you were sleeping. I would have left then, except I noticed this notebook lying on the floor.’
‘Which you couldn’t help reading,’ I add, guessing correctly.
‘I thought I’d ask you about it, and tried to wake you.’ He turns to Mum and Jimmy. ‘Do you know how deep a sleeper Isabel is?’ Without waiting for their reply, he swings back to me. ‘It took me half an hour. I swear I thought you were dead. And what the hell is Arkari— What was that word you just called out? Has it got anything to do with these weird notes?’ He indicates the notebook
with a slight tilt of his head.
Retaliation, I decide, is the best action to get him off the track. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. If I called anything out it’s because I was dreaming, of course. And what are you going on about? Obviously I’m not dead. Next time you take to snooping around my room at night, don’t wake me, OK? I like my sleep.’ I get up on my knees and snatch the notebook from his hand. ‘Give me that! It’s just a stupid poem I wrote, which I don’t appreciate you reading. I wouldn’t go through your stuff, by the way.’
‘I didn’t go looking. You must’ve knocked it to the floor when you fell asleep.’
‘Whatever. You had no right reading my private thoughts.’
He peers at me with a weird look and says softly, ‘Your private thoughts are really strange, Isabel.’
‘I don’t care. At least they’re mine. Now can everyone go back to bed?’
Jimmy quickly agrees. ‘What a good idea!’
‘Not till I get some answers,’ Matt says stubbornly.
‘I’m tired, Matt. Whatever you’re so hyped up about can wait till the morning.’
Jimmy tries again. ‘Everything looks different in the morning, Matt. Why don’t you go to bed?’
Matt gives Jimmy a hard stare and yells at the top of his voice, ‘I don’t take orders from you!’
Everyone goes silent. Matt’s resentment of Jimmy’s position in our household has become more evident every day. I catch Jimmy’s look and try to tell him with my eyes to back off, I can handle my brother, especially now that I have the notebook tucked under my pillow.
Mum gives Jimmy’s hand a little yank. ‘Let’s go, honey.’
They leave. Matt turns his back on me and walks to the window. He pulls up the blind, revealing an almost full moon, and suddenly my room glows with brilliant light. In my exhausted state this light is too much. Instinctively, I raise my hand to cover my eyes. Matt notices. ‘What’s the matter with you?’
‘Nothing, it’s just the glare.’
He looks around the room, then out the window to the night sky. I suddenly realise how he must see the room – dark and mostly in shadows. He points to the sky. ‘But it’s only the moon.’