Destiny (The Keeper's Trilogy Book 1)

by Olivia Ali

  “Tell you what, sounds good to me!” Dante answered without even needing to think twice. Tristan nodded in approval, clapping a hand on his full belly. Dante stretched back, placing his hands behind his head and his stomach moaning in appreciation.

  “I’ll book the room then?” Merlin stormed, rising to his feet and heading over to the bar.

  “Well, we did push the wagon for half a bloody day you lazy swine.” sneered Dante in an undertone, Tristan laughing in response.

  Tristan watched the dregs of his beer dance around as he swirled the liquid in his tankard, his eyes barely able to stay open. He was tired but there was no way he was going to fall asleep with both Dante and Merlin’s snoring. Plus, the reason he’d woken in the first place wasn’t particularly something he wanted to keep seeing in his dreams.

  He motioned for the barman to give him a refill to which he kindly obliged, looking up as the door swung open and shut again, nodding to the person who walked in. Tristan looked around out the corner of his eye to see a familiar face. It was the man from the Smithy who had wanted Tristan’s forgiveness. What was his name? John Basso?

  As the name recalled in his mind, an image flashed before his eyes with John stood at the head of the room, row upon row of desks facing him as though it were some form of classroom. A blackboard was behind it with something scribbled across it; The Magic of Glyphs.

  “Welcome to The Magic of Glyphs,” John addressed. “My name is John Basso but you can all call me Basso; too many Johns in this place anyway. Here you will learn the different Glyphs that surround our world. By the end of this class, you will know how to find and conjure Glyphs and then eventually command and manipulate them. It will be very enjoyable I’m sure!” he didn’t sound convinced.

  The sound of a tankard being placed on the bar bought Tristan out of his thoughts, making him jump slightly. He covered it up with taking a sip from his newly poured beer, his eyes wondering over to where Basso now stood.

  “Tristan?” he said in disbelief, blinking his eyes hard as though he thought he were imagining him. “What are you doing here?”

  “Oh, our wagon needs a new wheel so we’re here on a detour,” explained Tristan, smiling as he did so. “How’ve you been then Bass?”

  “All the better for hearing you sound like you know me again.” That statement was all too hesitant for Tristan to take confidence in it, but he accepted it all the same.

  “It’s getting there.”

  “That’s a start at least! So, what brings you this way then?”

  “We’re heading to Dilu…”

  “Dilu?”

  “Yes! It’s where I became a Scribe so Merlin figured it would be better for my memory if I actually went to places that once meant something to me.”

  “Well I hope it works.”

  “Me too. What would be helpful though is someone who was actually there with me but I suppose people like that are in short supply at the moment.”

  “Bloody hell that man can snore!” exclaimed Dante, slumping down in a stool next to Tristan and covering his eyes with his worn hands. The barman came straight over and placed an ale in front of him as Basso stared over – almost like he knew him from somewhere.

  “So can you,” chuckled Tristan, nudging Dante in the side. “Why do you think I’m down here?” Dante looked down on Tristan imposingly, forcing the young Keeper to stop and continue drinking his beer.

  As Dante shook his head, his eyes cast over Basso. Something about him was familiar but he wasn’t sure what, not to mention the fact that he didn’t get a good feeling about the guy whoever he was.

  “Oh, Basso this is D…” Tristan began to explain, noticing the looks the two were exchanging.

  “Daxon!” Dante interjected. With how uneasy this man made him feel, he wasn’t about to tell him his real name. Tristan looked over at him suddenly, sharing a look that made him realise he needed to play along for the moment.

  “This is…Daxon…Daxon this is John Basso.” Tristan continued.

  “Pleasure…I’ll leave you two to it.” Basso nodded, standing up and hiding away in a booth in a dark corner of the inn.

  “Daxon?” Tristan questioned once Basso was out of earshot.

  “I don’t want people knowing who I am,” exclaimed Dante, waving his hands about as though it were obvious. “Especially when they’re Keepers. Who is that guy anyway?”

  “He taught me about Glyphs and how to use them when I was an Acolyte. I don’t know much else; I just remember his lessons as opposed to anything outside of that.”

  “Maybe you should ask him to come with us?”

  “I didn’t think you liked him?”

  “I never said that! But you know, maybe it would help to have someone who knew you back then come with us. I mean Merlin’s good but…he didn’t know you.”

  “Thing is I don’t think I trust him myself. I just can’t help but think there was something far worse that he did to me that made me want to kill him like I supposedly did.”

  “Then maybe that’s another reason for him to come with us.”

  Dante guzzled down the last of his ale before rising to his feet and heading for the john, again glaring at Basso as he passed. Tristan took the cue to join Basso in the booth, getting an odd look as he did so. It was almost as if he didn’t want him around, like he actually didn’t want to be remembered at all and that was the intriguing part. The Brother of Unity wasn’t a violent person so for him to threaten to kill someone meant they did something that really hurt him.

  “Can I get you another drink?” Tristan asked, motioning to Basso’s half empty tankard and instantly regretting the offer as he took another sip from his own.

  “I’m alright thank you,” replied Basso, replicating the action.

  An awkward silence passed between them; both taking sips from their tankards more often than they should. What was taking Dante so long? Wait, maybe that question didn’t need answering…

  “You should come with us,” Tristan suggested, causing a strange look from Basso. “To Dilu I mean.”

  “Oh, why do you say that?” asked Basso, his eyes widening slightly making that red glint stand out all too well and sent a shiver down the length of Tristan’s spine

  “Funny you should ask that. You see…Daxon…” he’d forgotten the persona Dante had created “thinks it will be a good idea to have someone who knew me back then.”

  “Did he not know you back then?”

  “He knows me now.”

  “Right…but Merlin?” He was making excuses. Surely if Basso had wanted Tristan to remember him, he would jump at the offer but the fact that he didn’t unsettled him. Why did Basso not want him to remember?

  “He knew me but…not as much as you…or any of my teachers for that matter.” Basso nodded his head.

  “You see I really need to be here…I can’t come…I can’t return to Dilu. I’m sorry!” Basso rose to his feet and headed for the door.

  “But Basso…”

  “I’m not coming Tristan…I can’t do it!”

  Basso turned and left the inn in a huff, the barman flapping his hands – he obviously hadn’t paid. Then again, he hadn’t even finished it. Tristan slumped back, noticing the angry look on the barman’s face as though he expected him to pay for it after upsetting a paying customer. His stare off was interrupted by Dante finally coming out of the john.

  “You took your time,” Tristan snarled, a hidden joke in there somewhere.

  “I wasn’t actually…I would never…I was giving you chance to finish your conversation with Basso…” Dante suggested. Tristan threw him a look as if to question his intention. “I did! So where did he go?” Tristan shrugged his shoulders. “Well, I’m going for a walk, got a headache I can’t shift.”

  Dante grabbed his cloak off the hook by the door and headed out into the night air leaving Tristan alone in the inn. He was used to being alone these days, alone with the dreams he slept alongside. Who knew someone would not
want to sleep for fear of what they might see…?

  Chapter 20 - Brethren Betrayer

  Breathing in the night air, Dante looked around the city streets and spied his target immediately. Of course, he wasn't going for a walk to clear his head. There was a reason this John Basso was familiar to him and he wanted to know why. Whether or not that was a good idea was another matter. Pulling his hood up over his head, he followed Basso in the shadows to what looked to be a hostel of some sort on the outskirts of town. The building itself was an abhorrent eyesore; skulky characters leaning against the exterior, hoods up and pipes hanging from their lips. A couple of whores flounced about between them and he watched as Basso passed vacantly by them - as though they hadn't even noticed him pass. This puzzled Dante, but then again, he was a Keeper and therefore if he didn't want to be seen he didn't have to be.

  Using the windows as his guide, he watched Basso pass down a corridor to a room right at the end of it, obviously where he was staying, and headed hastily inside. Skirting round the back into an alley, Dante found another window near a back door which apparently led to the room Basso was in. What was the point in going in the front door when he had a personal door? Then again maybe he was scoping out the market, Dante knew he'd be doing the same with those girls in their skimpy dresses.

  He positioned himself between the open window and the door, peering through the gap as torches were lit inside revealing a man sat at a table in the centre of the room. From the back he didn't look like much, all Dante could make out was the bald head that was shinier than a diamond and a very round body structure clothed in a dirty white shirt that was much too tight and a leather waistcoat that didn't even stretch to his waist. Basso certainly didn't look happy to see the stranger, his pale face going paler still and his thin mouth wrinkling in astonishment under his beard. He imagined the man to by smiling slyly as Basso straightened up, trying to look down on his acquaintance.

  "’ello Bass!" exclaimed the man in a low and common sounding voice, a voice that seemed to tug at the marks on Dante's palms. Nobility knew the man that was for sure. "Long time no see."

  "What are you doing here?" Basso asked, his voice quivering ever so slightly.

  "I...or should I say a mutual friend has an offer for you."

  "Offer?"

  "Let's just say that the Herasin is in need of your services once more."

  "I have no reason to offer my services..."

  "Ah but you still have a bargain to wager."

  Bargain? Dante thought; perhaps it had something to do with his qualm with Tristan? Either way the notion intrigued him and the word Herasin had struck fear into his hard heart. Herasin meant father and was the name for the leader of the Brothers of Dharsi. It also meant that Dante was perfectly in his right mind not to trust Basso, his association with whoever this man was obviously meant that he was in with Dharsi. However, he didn't think it meant he was member. The bad feeling wasn't that evil a notion.

  "I finished my end of the bargain. He's out of the way isn't he? Yes, there was collateral damage along the way but what's done is done. It's over!" Basso explained, circling round to lean against a counter opposite where the stranger sat.

  "Ah but you see that's where you're wrong. You see, he's remembering which means you didn't do the job properly." He was talking about Tristan, that bit was obvious. It was also obvious now that perhaps Basso was the reason Tristan didn't remember. "Not to mention the fact that people are returning as I'm sure you already know what with you being back. Which reminds me, how did you get back? I'm sure it's not because he remembered you because he'd be here already waiting to kill you."

  "Oh he won't remember that, I'll make sure of it."

  "Well don't count on it. If people are returning without necessarily being remembered, then we can be sure that it won't be long until his brothers return. And when they do, they'll find him and they'll be out for all our blood." He paused, for effect probably, stroking his chin perhaps - the way his arms stretched across his middle and up to his face. "So, you see it is in both our interests that you join us once again."

  "I told you I'm finished with you people. And besides, what would be in it for me?"

  "Tell me Basso, why did you join us in the first place?"

  "You know why..."

  "Yes, but remind me. This thing," He pointed to something on his face; a mark or a scar perhaps. "It halts the memory you see. It's not as good as it was."

  "I did what I did for revenge. He deserved everything he got!" Now this puzzled Dante. As far as he was aware, even from what Cedric and Merlin had said, Tristan had done nothing against anyone to have revenge inflicted upon him. Unless it was his legacy meaning Nobility or Union in general could be his excuse for revenge. But that would make him a lot older than he looked, however it would also explain why Dante recognised him. But surely, he couldn't be that old...

  "That's right! And what did we promise you in return for completing your end of the bargain?"

  Basso was silent. His face had gone even paler and it was obvious he didn't want to answer from the way he kept biting the inside of his lip. Perhaps he'd had a change of heart in recent years. Maybe being in the Faded lands had shown him the true meaning of humanity. Either way it was clear he was fighting himself to come to a decision.

  "What is your new offer?"

  "We offer you...your freedom!" Dante watched as Basso's expression changed yet again, almost as though his heart had left his chest. "We've given you your original prize so to speak, and in time he'll show himself to you. So now, we offer you the chance to rid yourself of us wretched lot for a small price. Of course, you know what that price is...so pay it and we will set you free...once and for all."

  More silence. Dante could tell Basso's forehead was wrinkling under his fringe, again he was fighting himself. But what were they going to free him from? Perhaps he was bound to Dharsi, like an ally. Maybe he'd done it decades ago and they'd chosen a ripe moment to use it to their advantage...like a pawn in a game of chess.

  "Well Bass, what's your answer?" Basso's response was too quiet for him to hear. It was as though he had to hear himself say it out loud to see what it sounded like, to test out his answer. "What's that, I didn't hear you?"

  "I won't do it!" Basso launched himself forward, slamming his hands on the table and making the empty bowl and pitcher shudder in their place. The action didn't seem to faze the stranger at all though, he just cocked his head to the side and stared at him.

  "Won't...or can't?" Was the stranger’s response as he slowly rose to his feet, circling the table and leaning in next to where Basso stood. The side of his face became visible now, the man was no longer a stranger to the watcher. His face was round and blotched at the cheeks, his eyes bulged from his skull and three chins stretched as he leaned in towards Basso. If it wasn't for the tattoo running down the side of his face, Dante wouldn't even have recognised him. After all, it was Dante who had given him that mark in the first place. The runes for Brethren Betrayer etched in ink upon his face scarring him for life, marked like a pig for the slaughter. Dante on the other hand had never got the chance to follow his threat through and kill the coward that he was.

  "I think you need to decide where your loyalties lie," he threatened Basso, the words only just loud enough for Dante to hear.

  Basso said nothing in response. He just stayed rooted to the spot, his arms trembling and his breath coming out in ragged huffs. The man; Boris as he'd name had been then and may still have been, smiled sneakily, his eyes flickering red in the light. He turned to leave, but not through the front, through the back and right to where Dante was standing. But he too was a Keeper and he too didn't have to be seen if he didn't want to be.

  Leaving Basso to dwell, he followed Boris down the alley a bit, chasing up around the corner and backing the traitor up against the wall. The hood of his cloak slipping to reveal his face as he did so, a look of horror masking the false confidence Boris seemed to have gained whilst threa
tening Basso.

  “Not...it can't be..." he stuttered, his body stiffening as Dante pushed his arm underneath his chin. "You're...you're..."

  "What's that Boris?" Dante goaded. "Forgotten my name after all these years?"

  "But you..."

  "Now I'm back and we have a score to settle." Dante pulled a knife from his belt and put it up to Boris' neck. "After all, I did make you a promise."

  "But you can't kill me...not now..."

  "And why can't I?"

  "'cause you didn't mark me...well not really..."

  "I think you're forgetting that I was the one who marked your face like that in the first place...unless you were marked again. Oh, now that would make things interesting." He pushed on the knife slightly, drawing enough blood to make Boris gulp. "Tristan marked you as well didn't he? That's why you want Basso to help you...oh this is priceless." Dante sniggered, a fearful silence being the only sound Boris made in response. "Tell you what I'll leave you scathed for now, at the moment you're all too useful to me." Dante laughed again and sheathed the knife after he noticed a guard approaching them out of the corner of his eye.