Betrayal

by Fiona McIntosh

  Then it was the turn of the Fox family. They all stood quietly, facing one another, not knowing quite what to say. Alyssa was sure that if she had to look Saxon square in the eyes she’d lose her little remaining composure.

  ‘Goodbye, Oris.’ She gave him a tight squeeze. Milt bent to take his hug but she impulsively kissed his cheek. ‘Thank you, Milt, for being so good to me.’ She was surprised he did not seem as overwhelmed as she felt at this moment, particularly as she knew he carried a torch for her. He grinned shyly.

  Sorrel and Alyssa gave the younger children bear hugs and made them squeal and then thanked Greta genuinely for her various kindnesses to them at a time when they had no other place to turn. Alyssa hugged her warmly, despite her misgivings, and again was surprised at the almost smug manner in which Greta accepted their parting.

  Finally, there was only one person left to thank.

  She could not help herself. Raising her eyes she looked at Saxon, wanting to hate him for the broad grin and his insensitivity to how hard this was for her. She shielded, refusing to allow him to enter her head.

  Sorrel spoke to him instead. ‘Saxon, you’ve been our saviour. Alyssa and I—’

  ‘Don’t.’ He stopped her with a hand in the air. ‘No need.’

  He bent low and picked up the little old woman in his hug, making her shriek and beg to be put down. It melted Alyssa’s resolve and she despised her eyes for betraying her as they loosed their tears. By the time he had turned to her she was sobbing.

  ‘By the Light, girl…what’s all this?’

  ‘Come on now, Alyssa. A quick farewell is the best sort,’ Sorrel grumbled, making tracks towards Kythay.

  Saxon watched Sorrel push by and looked back at Alyssa.

  ‘Why are you crying?’ he asked her.

  She could not help but notice Greta’s smirk. She cleared her throat and started to follow Sorrel. ‘I’m just sad, that’s all. I’ll miss you all very much.’

  She hurried to Kythay and helped the old woman to climb on the donkey. She could do this, she knew she could. She was already moving Kythay forwards when she chanced her luck by turning back to wave once more. He was still smiling broadly; tall and handsome, his eyes blazing mirth. She tore her gaze from him and flashed a fake grin at the others.

  But he called out, ‘What, no hug for me?’ and clasped his hands to his big chest theatrically. His family burst into laughter.

  This was the final straw for Alyssa. She dropped Kythay’s rein, ran back towards Saxon’s outstretched arms and began punching him. She tried her hardest to hurt him but, laughing, he quickly tied her in knots, pinning her arms behind her. There he kept her until her fury was spent and she stopped struggling. She was breathing hard, tears coursing down her cheeks.

  He put his mouth close to her ear. ‘I’m coming with you,’ he whispered, then let her go.

  She spun around. ‘What?’

  ‘You heard. I’ve been sent—remember?’

  Alyssa heard his words but it was as though she could not understand their meaning. It was dear Caerys who shook her to her senses.

  ‘It’s true. ’E’s given up ’is position at the circus. ’E says ’e ’as to stay wi’ you.’

  Now everyone was laughing. Sorrel heaved herself back down off Kythay to find out what the delay was. She hoped like fury that Saxon was not suggesting he go with them. She looked at Saxon then back at Alyssa and did not need an explanation to work out what had passed.

  ‘He says he’s coming with us,’ Alyssa said, still full of disbelief.

  ‘With your permission, Sorrel?’ Saxon looked at her but she knew that couched behind the polite words was something far from a request. He was simply paying her the courtesy.

  ‘Well, Saxon, this is a shock. We are going to Caremboche and I have no idea what the situation will be there for us, let alone for a male companion. Um…I’m not sure we can—’

  ‘Let’s worry about that later. May I accompany you to its gates at least?’

  Sorrel’s eyes narrowed. ‘You know of Caremboche?’

  ‘Yes. Anyone who has travelled this Kingdom as widely as I has heard of its stories, its legend.’

  All her old anxieties about his intentions resurfaced. It was Alyssa, though, who raised the most obvious objection.

  ‘But what about Greta and the children? You can’t possibly leave them.’

  ‘We don’t need him,’ Greta chipped in, not unkindly. ‘We have someone who will take care of us.’

  She grinned mischievously. Alyssa had not thought she had such playfulness in her.

  ‘I don’t understand any of this!’ she cried.

  Caerys couldn’t help himself. ‘Greta’s marrying Zorros. ’E’s loved ’er for ever!’

  ‘It’s true,’ Greta confirmed when she saw the disbelief in Alyssa’s face. ‘He has loved me for many years but I’ve always refused his affections, clinging too tightly to memories of a dead man.’ She sighed.

  ‘But the children need a man in their lives and it’s not fair to make Saxon live his brother’s responsibilities. Lute made his own decision; he knew the risk and took it. We lost him. No one is to blame. At last Saxon has found what he wants in his life—can’t say I blame him, you’re very beautiful—and I’ve decided to give in to Zorros and his romantic notions about us. The children adore him so I know that part of the arrangement will work well.’

  Alyssa could hardly believe the gorgeous smile which suddenly lit Greta’s face.

  ‘But what about the act?’

  ‘With the circus owner for a husband, who needs to perform anywhere but between the sheets?’ Greta winked. ‘Milt and Oris may want to continue but the little ones will live a life outside of the arena if I have my way.’

  Zorros had arrived. He put his arm around his wife-to-be. ‘I gather you’ve been told. Are you not going to offer us congratulations?’

  ‘Of course!’ Alyssa said, still wondering when the dream would end and she would wake up walking next to a donkey and an old woman along a lonely road bound for a strange sanctuary.

  They covered the few miles to Caremboche quicker than they had expected. Sorrel rode Kythay whilst Saxon and Alyssa walked briskly beside her. The time passed uneventfully and it was a beautiful journey as they could see one of the fingers of the Great Forest in the distance.

  Sorrel had decided to accept Saxon’s presence. From his travels he must already know that this was not a place for men but something could be worked out, she was sure. Thinking about it during the ride, she realised his companionship could actually be a blessing. Alyssa was clearly thrilled that he was still with them, which boded well for the difficult adjustments which might need to be made to fit into life at the Academie.

  Sorrel had explained to Alyssa that it was a place of sanctuary and would bring them complete security for a while. If she enjoyed her time there, she might like to become an acolyte. This decision would be left entirely to Alyssa. She had been told of the archalyt disc and what it meant to accept it. The girl was bright. She understood and had even said solemnly that she would consider such a future once she had lived it for a while. For now the Academie meant rest and recuperation. They had been on the road for a long time. Sorrel knew too that the solitude of the Academie would suit Alyssa. But, more than this, there was friendship awaiting her there. Girls of her own age would probably welcome her warmly and perhaps Alyssa could start to build the new life she talked about.

  Walls appeared along the side of the road with orchards spreading behind them. They had arrived on the outskirts of the Academie.

  Kythay obligingly halted for Sorrel to speak. ‘All right now, the gates are not far from here. What say I go on ahead and make our introductions? You can follow later, when your shadows lengthen before you.’

  It was not a request; they both nodded at Sorrel who gave Kythay a gentle prod with her foot to speed him on. For one of the rare times in his life he obeyed her and was soon kicking up dust.

  They mov
ed to the hedgerow. It had been a mild day and their dusty walk from Ildagarth had brought a light sheen to their faces. Alyssa wiped a kerchief across her forehead and looked around her.

  ‘Do you think they’d mind if we took some of those plums?’ She was already climbing over the stile nearby.

  ‘Would it matter if they did?’ replied Saxon, amused. He followed her.

  ‘You’ll miss them dreadfully won’t you, Saxon?’ she asked, finally saying out loud what had been gnawing at her.

  He chewed on a plum, the juices running down his chin and into its slight cleft.

  ‘The family? Yes. But Greta has made a wise decision and Zorros loves her, that’s for sure. He will take excellent care of them, particularly the youngsters. It’s true, they really don’t need their dead father’s brother hanging around.’

  ‘Oh, don’t. I’m sure you’re more memorable than that,’ she said, throwing a plum stone in his direction.

  ‘Aye, perhaps. I do worry about the older lads though. Milt and Oris are at that awkward age and they need a firm hand, a father’s time and wisdom. I wonder if Zorros will provide that.’ He shook his head. ‘I had to threaten them with a whipping if they tried to follow us.’

  Alyssa was taken aback. ‘They wouldn’t, would they?’

  ‘No doubt at all.’ He laughed briefly. ‘Either that or die of broken hearts at being separated from the lovely Alyssa.’

  She smiled sadly. ‘But how would they follow us?’

  ‘Love can be a cruel master, Alyssa. They would not hesitate to steal a cart and follow our trail. They even know roughly where Caremboche is from previous travels.’

  Alyssa did not want to think any more about the boys and their loss of the man they loved as their father. ‘Shall we go?’ she said.

  ‘Er…let me go first, Alyssa.’

  ‘No! Why? We go together.’

  ‘Oh, call it an old man’s hunch. I’ll just check all is well before you arrive. I won’t take long, I promise, just enough to look around first. You can pick some more fruit,’ he suggested hopefully.

  Her eyes narrowed. ‘Has your friend Lys warned you of something?’ She felt the first tingle of fear creeping up her spine.

  ‘No, not exactly. Just something she mentioned has made me cautious, that’s all. It’s nothing, Alyssa, really. But I feel safer taking the precaution, that’s all.’ He stood.

  ‘All right but I’m already counting,’ she said, beginning to count aloud as he broke into a run.

  She stood and walked slowly to the edge of the orchard. A long, high wall ran well into the distance, as far as her eye could see, down the length of the orchard and beyond. It was built from the same pinkish stone and she presumed it must enclose the Academie.

  Sorrel had not divulged much about the Academie; probably because Alyssa had not shown much interest. All she cared was that it provided the haven Sorrel had promised. There was the question of taking the archalyt disc. The way Alyssa felt today she could do it, even though it meant giving up all hope of a man. There was only one man for her and he was no longer in her life. She loved the idea of the chance to study, to learn more about her abilities. Sorrel said there was a fine and expansive library at the Academie with archives of ancient parchments and books. That excited Alyssa. She could lose herself there and hopefully bury Tor’s memory amongst the dusty tomes.

  Looking along the line of pink stone, Alyssa worked out that she could save herself a longer walk if she cut across the meadow and climbed the wall. Had she waited long enough yet? No. She had to keep her promise to Saxon. To pass a few more minutes, she climbed a nearby pear tree and began selecting fruit. If she had not withdrawn into herself so much, enjoying the peaceful surrounds and even begun humming absent-mindedly, she might have caught the sound of distant horses.

  Putting three pears into various pockets she set off, happy that she had given Saxon long enough to check all was safe. What was he afraid of? Goth was dead. He had been her only threat, surely? Alyssa refused to spook herself any further. She dismissed her own fears and strode on for half a mile towards the part of the wall which was relatively near to the roadside.

  There was a huge tree on the orchard side. That would do perfectly to scale the wall. Sorrel would be furious with her for such an entrance. As she reached the wall, she could hear men’s voices. She assumed they must be men from the village or perhaps orchard workers. Lifting the cotton skirt which Sorrel had insisted she wear, she began to climb the tree. It was easy. Just like the old days at home with Tor.

  Alyssa found herself in unbearably happy spirits. This was a new beginning for her and Sorrel. Finally a place to settle down and she had Saxon with her still. Hopefully he might be permitted to live close by or work for the Academie. She felt carefree for the first time in ages and almost released from Tor’s pull. He flitted through her mind less often now and the pain had dulled to a hard, shiny stone—as she liked to think of it—in her heart. She had decided some time ago to lock it away and only examine it from time to time. Those times were getting further and further apart; she had even given up her infrequent castings to Tor. All she met anyway was the thick, bleak, disappointing void.

  With some effort she hauled herself up onto the top of the high wall. She swayed with dizzy disbelief at the scene below. She was looking into a large courtyard. There were horses and men with purple sashes across their chests—at least ten of them. In one heart-stopping glance she took all this in, including the women who were watching fearfully from the parapet above, on the safe side of the Academie. Sorrel was with them; Alyssa could see her bleak expression.

  And there in the centre of the courtyard, forced to his knees, with blood running from various wounds and matting his golden hair, was Saxon. His clothes were torn as was his beautiful body. The men were beating him with clubs but he refused to fall fully to the ground.

  Alyssa’s scream echoed shrilly around the yard. When Saxon dragged his head up to look at her, she saw gaping holes where his striking violet eyes had been; blackish blood flowed wildly down his face.

  His lovely voice cut through her terror and into her head.

  I know you’re there. Be calm, my girl. Please, please save yourself. Use whatever your powers are now. Kill us all if you have to but save your life.

  Then, incredibly, the voice she hated most in the world echoed out across the courtyard, its unnaturally high pitch unmistakable. There he was. Standing to one side and gloating.

  ‘Ah, there you are, Alyssa. We’ve been waiting for you and amusing ourselves with your friend here. I really took offence at the disrespectful way he looked at me so I poked his horrible eyes out. I wish he had screamed and brought you running but the courageous fuck simply groaned. He’s no fun at all for us. I’m sure you’ll be far better sport.’ He laughed his hideous, girlish laugh.

  Alyssa swayed dangerously, hanging onto the overhanging branches. This could not be happening! Goth was dead.

  Saxon tried to rise but they clubbed him mercilessly, smashing their weapons down again and again on his back. He made no sound but he also did not rise again.

  Saxon, don’t…she begged him across the link, her tears salty on her lips. Save your strength, save yourself.

  His voice was barely a whisper. To the death, my child. I must protect you to the death.

  She snarled at him. I’ll throw myself on his mercy if you move again, I swear it.

  Another familiar voice. It was Sorrel screaming her anger at Goth. It bought them some time.

  ‘Oh fuck me, now it’s the old bitch. I’d hoped you’d burned in Fragglesham, you old whore. Why won’t any of you die when I want you to?’

  The Inquisitors laughed. Goth was enjoying himself hugely. His prey was completely cornered: she had nowhere to escape to and no way of getting inside Sanctuary, the one place where his influence had no jurisdiction.

  The Academie at Caremboche was an untouchable place, protected by the King and ancient decrees, surrounded by myster
y. Even Goth would not risk flaunting the law of Caremboche. But then he did not have to. Alyssa was trapped outside while her stupid, screeching grandmother was inside and her beefy, broken friend was at his feet. He would have her within the next few minutes but, for now, this was high fun and a lovely part of his payback for the hideous maiming he had endured that night. He would visit full revenge on her later.

  Impossible though it seemed, at that moment Milt and Oris turned into the courtyard. Alyssa guessed they must have stolen a cart after all, in order to follow them. Light knew, she understood why: Saxon was their father to all intents and purposes and they had obviously refused to allow him to leave them.

  Their lovely smiles died as they saw the scene before them and they shrank back in fear. Alyssa yelled for them to run. But, frozen at the sight of the humbled, bleeding Saxon, they clung to each other, not knowing whether to flee or just stand there.

  ‘Milt, go!’ Alyssa screamed again through her own tears.

  Saxon called weakly into her head, the pain obvious in his voice. The boys are here? His face reflexively turned towards the entrance to the courtyard.

  Fools! Yes, they’re here.

  Saxon’s voice was ragged with the effort of holding the link. Alyssa. Listen to me now. There’s only a few seconds. Climb as high as you possibly can in that tree.

  What are you talking about? she shrieked. She could see Goth waving his horsewhip towards the boys, giving his second-in-command an order.

  With huge effort Saxon yelled into her mind. Climb now, damn you, Alyssa!

  With what was surely his final reserve of spirit he yelled out to the boys: ‘Flight! You must perform Flight, boys. Do it now, my lovely sons. Make it perfect.’

  Alyssa screamed with fear and despair. She knew what Saxon was going to make them do. And she knew it was her only hope but, in saving herself, those men below her whom she loved would probably die. But there was no more time to think; she scrambled higher and higher in the tree. She saw the boys following Saxon’s orders; they linked their arms and walked into the centre of the yard.