Surviving Prophesy: The Immortals

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Surviving Prophesy: The Immortals Page 3

by Frances Howitt


  She didn’t know, but suspected he was watching closely to see how she managed. It had certainly taken some minutes to get over her trepidation that she was expected to guide a horse she’d never ridden before and so didn’t know how trustworthy it was, and all without being able to see ahead. Whilst she knew horses wouldn’t voluntarily walk into obstacles, she didn’t know if this particular horse was prone to misbehaving. Horses only ever considered whether they themselves could fit through narrow spaces, therefore her protruding feet in the stirrups, knees and indeed head, could all suffer bruises from gateways, trees or other obstacles she’d never see coming. Shying at silly things that she’d never be able to anticipate could also easily tip her off. Or the beast could wander off into forest and she suddenly find herself hooked up or swept off on low branches she’d never know to duck. Yes, riding unguided was a barrel of laughs!

  ‘I thought we should go East. That’s well away from the direction the bugs were taking. Do you feel up to an increase in the pace?’

  ‘We’re off the road now. I can’t tell where to aim for or what obstructions there might be,’ she warned him nervously. ‘I don’t know how honest this horse is either.’

  ‘You can see me somehow though, can’t you?’ he asked deciding to be direct about his suspicion.

  ‘All living things have a spark of life and I can see it. Large animals and people are more defined than plants but you really stand out from all the background noise. I suppose because you are immortal your life force is very strong. Did you know that’s one of the things that attract the beetles; that an immortal’s blood could bestow longevity on them?’

  ‘Wonderful! As if immortals don’t have enough enemies seeking to use us; our blood is now sought by damn insects too.’

  ‘Your blood can aid mortals?’ Megan asked, aware of his flippant tone but suspecting this was truth.

  ‘I’ve heard rumours of it and also that our blood can aid healing. I really don’t know to be honest. It’s not something I’ve ever witnessed or tested myself.’

  ‘So why tell me?’

  ‘Because you already know what I am, and I’ve been wondering if it could help you,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s not something I would try without your consent.’

  ‘Zacharias I appreciate the offer, but I’m used to my disability. Whilst I would love to be able to see, dangling that hope in front of me is cruel.’ He sighed and abruptly she heard his horse’s pace alter and he began to pull rapidly away from her. She gulped, restraining her suddenly excited horse. Damn him! There was no avoiding it, she would be lost without him; she had to follow. She released her hold, and her horse sprang forward into a gallop, rushing to catch up. She ducked low on her horse’s neck, relying on the animal to choose their footing sensibly and follow while she concentrated on staying balanced and keeping control enough not to build up a dangerous speed.

  His presence was a reassuring glow just ahead. She forced her horse to slow to a controlled canter, matching his pace and following behind his horse where he could safely guide them. She was not going to allow their horses to race each other and then potentially fall into some hazard she wouldn’t see. So she kept enough distance between them to avoid kicked up dirt, stepping on heels, or her horse not seeing where they were going. She had to trust her horse to use its own eyes and not do anything stupid. At this kind of speed, the world swept past in a blur, far too jumbled to make any sense of. All she could latch on to for security was his steady beacon like presence in front. She could tell his emotions were in turmoil again, but hadn’t a clue why and furthermore didn’t feel she could ask.

  After a while he eased up to a steady trot until their horses began to puff and he slowed back to a walk.

  ‘You ride well,’ Zacharias commented. ‘I wasn’t sure how you would handle a sudden change to the pace but you had it worked out really quickly. That does relieve my mind.’

  ‘I’m so glad for you,’ she said acidly. ‘Please feel free to chuck me in at the deep end with your tests at any time,’ she added.

  He laughed in delight, earning another scowl. But her spirit and courage was astounding. He didn’t think he would ever dare ride blind. She rode an unfamiliar horse, over a landscape she couldn’t see, following a man she barely knew. Obviously she was used to doing what she had to, to survive. But there had been no fearful tears or wailing. Not even any complaints. His admiration grew. Yet it tore at him that such resilience could only have been learned through bitter experience.

  It was nearly dark before they reached the Inn he was aiming for. Once he had ascertained there was a twin bedded room available, he handed over their horses to the Inn’s groom. He had seen no sign that the beetles had been this way but Megan scrutinised the place carefully for anything unnatural before they relaxed.

  They sat in the bar and ate well of the hearty beef stew that was the Inn’s dish of the day. Megan kept her eyes down, aware that a vacant stare unsettled people. She wished she knew what the man sharing her table looked like and what he was thinking. She didn’t know if he was watching her or more interested in the other people she could hear around them; it was frustrating.

  ‘You’re very quiet,’ he said after their plates had been taken away and she sat sipping from her mug of ale.

  ‘Just thinking of how many could have died today. I know a few were bitten but I don’t know if anyone had gone missing. Who were those two people that died at the gate? We don’t know if you got all the beetles either. I hope none surfaced after we’d gone and caused problems for the others.’

  ‘You worry too much. I’m sure Madam Turner would have said if anything like that had happened, and besides, those beasts came after me. If any had been close by in the house, they’d have turned up while I was there.’

  ‘I suppose you’re right. I wonder where the students will go.’

  ‘More to the point where should we?’ he responded.

  ‘You mentioned heading East. I’ve always wanted to visit the healing hospital in Santoi. Can we go there?’

  ‘You hope they will have a cure for you?’ He guessed that was why she’d studied healing in the first place. He’d learned she had been forced to transfer to a regional healer hall, which was a major step down from a wizard academy and all because of discrimination.

  Her first year in learning wizard healing focussed on practical applications, brewing common medicines and learning human anatomy. Her teacher had encouraged her to find ways of working around her disability and she found she was able to actively participate and even excel. But the second year had a different and far less helpful teacher. The course turned to concentrate on dry facts and diagnosis, involving looking up unusual symptoms in books. Being blind she was severely hampered and without aid could not do the work. Her place in the class had been summarily cancelled. She was told that she shouldn’t waste her time further, since she could not study sufficiently to qualify as a wizard healer. They hadn’t been interested in helping her sit the exam to reflect the completed first year’s training either. That Wizard Healer Level One qualification would have been enough to get a decent lower level job elsewhere. But they considered a blind woman shouldn’t be messing with other people’s healing and didn’t want her mistakes to reflect on the academy. She had been forced to leave without any qualifications and look for work.

  The Fairfield Healer Hall had been one of the few she had approached that was prepared to take her on. She knew very well they had only employed her because her lack of formal qualifications gained them a magically gifted asset they didn’t feel obligated to pay at wizard rates. Penniless and homeless, she’d leapt at the opening. The healer halls were wide-spread and usually small. Their clinic was open daily to deal with the local people’s ailments, treating injuries and childbirth. They also taught basic doctoring and nursing to non-magically gifted people. Their knowledge was not that far reaching but sufficed for the majority of the time. They’d taken Megan on to the support staff hoping her wizard abil
ity would aid them in more complicated situations. Everyone had been relieved to discover the risk had been justified and she could justifiably earn her place. It was very rare that anything cropped up outside of that remit, and anything that did was considered too severe for a cure or expectation that anything could be done. In that way the people kept their faith, without being given false promises as usually happened when wizards became involved. Wizard surgeons could perform miraculous healing, but their fees were extremely expensive and could only be justified in a busy city practice. The Santoi healing hospital was renowned for the skill of its surgeons, but also for only taking patients with deep pockets.

  ‘If I’m there, I can always ask,’ she responded with a shrug, but she’d been disappointed so many times she didn’t hold out much hope of ever being cured. Now she no longer had a job or a roof over her head. Her meagre savings were probably not going to last long.

  ‘Or you could try my way,’ he said lightly.

  ‘I think you want to make me just as much a target for the beetles,’ she laughed.

  ‘Will you be serious,’ he said and her face fell.

  ‘I don’t know what might happen to me and I don’t really know why you want to try this,’ she whispered.

  He studied her anxious face. ‘Don’t worry about it now then. We’ll talk about it when you’re ready.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she murmured. They finished their drinks and headed up to sleep. It had been a very long day begun at dawn, then fraught with danger and both were weary.

  ***

  Next morning, they ate the substantial cooked breakfast provided and took possession of the wrapped sandwiches they’d ordered for lunch. The sun was shining, the birds singing and they chatted companionably as they rode.

  ‘Zach, can I ask you a personal question?’

  He glanced across to where she rode by his side; she was looking at him, or rather would be, if she could see. ‘Yes.’

  ‘How old are you?’

  ‘You’re expecting me to be a real crinkly aren’t you?’ he laughed.

  Megan simply raised her brows and waited.

  ‘I’m little more than a teenager for my people actually. I’m only a hundred and twenty-three,’ he added in a rush.

  ‘You’re exactly a hundred years older than I am!’ Megan exclaimed in astonishment. ‘That’s some teenager!’

  ‘Ok, I am exaggerating the youth bit. Consider me as though I’m in my twenties.’

  She reached towards him and he took her proffered hand. She changed their grip and ran her fingers over his hand feeling the slight callous of hands used to hard work, but they were smooth, strong and soft skinned generally. His skin was not remotely dry and weak and papery as those of advanced years she’d met before.

  ‘Would you mind if I touch your face?’ she asked knowing it was a personal thing to ask of him.

  ‘You’ve never asked that before,’ he commented.

  Whilst his tone was light and unconcerned, his aura had just started to pulse brightly. ‘I’m curious about you. If you’d rather I didn’t, just say so,’ she offered gently.

  ‘No, I don’t mind. I was just surprised. What made you think about it?’

  ‘The innkeeper’s wife referred to you as my sweet young man. It got me thinking that I really know very little about you, including the basics of your age and your physical appearance.’

  ‘Step down then and you can find out for yourself,’ he suggested jumping down from his horse quickly and going to her. ‘She said I was sweet?’ he mused. ‘I don’t think anyone has ever called me that.’

  ‘In your hearing,’ she added in amusement. He obviously felt his manhood was being belittled in some way. She slid down her horse’s side and slowly turned knowing he’d come close. She reached for where the spark of life pulsed from and found cotton, buttons and warmth. Of course, his heart was the engine of life. She rested her hands on him feeling how quickly he was breathing. Why would he be nervous? She moved up to his shoulders judging his height to be verging on tall. She moved in then to his collar and throat. Moving up, she discovered the roughness of bristles, but it wasn’t enough to be a serious beard, merely he needed a shave. She felt a defined jaw under those bristles, sculpted lips and a refined nose. His eyebrows were thick as was his mane of hair. ‘Close your eyes,’ she whispered and ran her fingers over and around them gently. ‘I wish I could see you for real,’ she murmured. She had the impression that those features would make him an attractive man. ‘What colour is your hair and eyes?’

  ‘My hair’s dark brown like yours and I’ve blue eyes. So what do you think of me?’

  ‘That you’re far too important to be looking after me and an immortal to boot. I also think you’re nervous of me and I really have no idea why.’

  ‘Being immortal isn’t as interesting as you seem to think. I have to hide what I am and live apart from people who would surely notice I wasn’t aging as they were. It’s a lonely life and downright depressing knowing virtually everyone I meet I must lie to because they will age and die while I remain unchanged. I have buried far too many friends already,’ he added bitterly. ‘I have no special powers aside from healing from injury quickly, whereas you do. You’re gifted in ways I cannot comprehend or emulate. Please don’t belittle yourself; I think you are extraordinary.’

  ‘But why are you nervous of me?’ she again rested her hands over his heart.

  He silently cursed that those gentle healer’s hands had already noticed how quickly his heart beat. He breathed deeply trying to calm himself, but only drew in her clean feminine scent. She stood with her hands resting on his chest and almost in his arms gazing up at him with large doe brown eyes at once empty but also full of secrets.

  ‘A fortune teller once told me I would meet a lady wizard who’d turn my world upside down, changing the course of my life forever.’ He left out the rest of the foretelling; this was plenty for the time being.

  ‘You think I am that wizard? Why? You must have met a great many wizards already and will continue to do so over your long life.’

  ‘It is you,’ he said quietly.

  ‘What else were you told to make you so certain?’ she asked suspiciously.

  ‘She said I would recognise the one,’ he said evasively.

  ‘You believe this story, yet you still decided to approach me and talk to me. Surely that was foolhardy if you were trying to avoid the fortune teller’s story coming true?’

  ‘I was curious about you, and had to know if you were the one. You’re not what I expected.’

  ‘I don’t doubt that,’ she snorted a little sourly. ‘How could a blind mouse change someone’s life?’

  ‘You are not remotely mousy,’ he retorted, glad she wasn’t the domineering warrior wizard casting spells to ensnare him he’d dreaded either. Instead she was caring, courageous, smart and decisive; qualities he couldn’t help but admire.

  ‘So why decide to take me with you? You must have said or done something to make Madam Turner think it a good idea.’

  ‘Perhaps I did. Certainly I couldn’t leave you in that place,’ he noticed her small frown at his vehemence. ‘Why did you decide to come?’

  ‘It wasn’t safe with those creatures lurking. Staying with you felt right somehow,’ she admitted with a shrug. ‘But you still haven’t said why you didn’t want to leave me to go with my classmates?’

  ‘Those things had already targeted me in particular and you seemed to understand and know a lot about them. Sorry, that didn’t come out right,’ he admitted and bit his lip. ‘I feel connected to you somehow and I was worried something awful would happen to you if I wasn’t there to protect you. Those creatures had already taken over our homes making us both homeless. I was sure we would fare better together than apart.’

  ‘Have you ever been married?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘In a hundred years? Why ever not? Do you prefer men?’

  ‘What? Of course I don’t prefer men! What a
thing to ask.’ He noticed her biting her lip at his indignation. ‘You’re laughing at me,’ he accused.

  ‘You’re remarkably sensitive for a man of your vintage. It was a valid question. I can’t tell how you look at women.’

  ‘You’re right, I’m being foolish. Being married or not is an innocent enough question and something most people want to know. I expect I’ll get around to marrying at some point. It’s not as though there’s been any need to rush.’

  ‘So, the wizard destined to change your life, was that for the better or worse?’

  ‘I don’t truly know yet. We shall have to wait and see. Of course that question also depends on your point of view. Since meeting you I’ve been attacked repeatedly and driven from my home. But I find that is less important to me than it once would have been. Change is often unsettling, but if you embrace it and see the positives, it can also be invigorating.’

  ‘You’re trying to convince yourself of that aren’t you? No wonder you’ve been nervous of me. Silly man! What can I possibly do to make you nervous? None of those things was of my doing. You’ve got a hundred years experience on me.’ She reached up to his face exploring the frown she’d guessed she’d find there.

  ‘What do you see when you do that?’ he asked aware of her concentration and her warm fingers running over his face.

  ‘I feel strength and character in your features. Your face is alive with emotions and thoughts.’ She ran her fingers through his thick collar length hair; it was clean and felt well kept. His head tilted and turned into her hand turning her touch into an unmistakeable caress. He was silently inviting her to touch, just when she was exceedingly curious about what her companion was like physically. Without thinking, she let her hands rove. From what she could make out through his clothes, his slim body was tautly contoured with the wiry kind of strength someone developed being fit and active. He wasn’t a bulky overly muscle bound man, she was glad to note. She liked the way he felt under her hands. Reaching the belt of his trousers she dropped her hands away suddenly aware she’d perhaps been rather forward. He could have backed away easily enough, so she doubted he minded, but she was embarrassed and a little shocked at her actions. What was she thinking, touching and thus encouraging a man like that? Her exploration proved he was fit and strong rather than a “safe” elderly man.

 

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