by A J Dalton
Nostracles curled his taloned hand into a fist and began to intersperse his chanting with harsh and guttural sounds. The injured one of the three giants went rigid and a bright spark danced from its stretched maw. The spark drifted lazily through the air towards the amulet, which had begun to buzz like an angry swarm. As the spark found the amulet, the giant from which it had come fell from the air. It looked somehow smaller and greyer. Instinctively, Kate knew it was dead.
‘By all that’s holy!’ she said to the other, ‘he’s stealing the very spark of life from them. Scourge, this can’t be right!’
The spark was now being drawn from the second of the smaller giants. Less disorientated than its companion, and clearly aware on some level of what was happening to it, it arched its back and howled its primal anguish. Kate’s heart lurched and her very skin hurt her. Surely the others could see how fundamentally wrong this was. No creature, no matter how grotesque and warped, deserved to be unmade in this way. It had a right to fight for its own existence, even if it threatened the existence of others in turn. It was the way of things. It was survival of the fittest. It was the most basic law of nature. What was happening here was unnatural, a betrayal and corruption of nature.
The spark found the amulet, which began to whine unhealthily. The sound more than just hurt, it squeezed Kate’s eyeballs to the point of bleeding; it scraped at her scalp; it constricted her throat so that she choked; it began to rupture her lungs. Nostracles’s hand holding the amulet began to shake, but he would not desist. He was shouting now as he bent everything he was and knew to annihilating the last and greatest of the miscreants.
‘No!’ Young Strap keened.
With renewed urgency, Brax struggled against the invisible force that had him caught. His giant thews and muscles bulged. His eyes started from his head and his straining body made the veins stand out so far that they looked as if they would tear the skin that covered them. The giant’s head was slowly forced back and his protruding jaw inexorably pushed down. The spark of life was dragged from him and through the air towards the hard-faced priest. The protesting pitch of the amulet rose even higher and Nostracles’s whole body shook.
The Scourge reeled in his saddle and made a despairing grab for the object of power, but his lunge fell short.
And the spark reached the jade lightning, setting off an enormous detonation. The amulet exploded, sending lethal shards of green stone in all directions. The concussion caught them all and hurled them to the earth. The Scourge cried out as a chip of jade tore into his cheek not far from his eye. Kate and Young Strap fell awkwardly, but only suffered bruises. Nostracles had been thrown backwards of his horse and lay bloody and still. He seemed to have lost most of his left hand and blood gouted from the wreckage that remained of it.
Brax thudded heavily to the ground. He shook his head woozily, then turned and lumbered in the direction of the trees. There was little the Guardians could do to stop him, and little they were inclined to do either.
The pain of the ruined hand soon roused Nostracles and he began to scream. Wincing, Kate made her way over to him, took the leather cord she used to tie back her hair and made a tourniquet for the damaged limb. The priest didn’t stop screaming.
‘We’ll need a fire to stem the bleeding completely. Young Strap, would you mind?’
The Scourge, dabbing his fingers gently at his cheek, didn’t seem to be in the mood to offer much sympathy: ‘He can heal himself, can’t he? He’s got the powers for it. And while he’s at it, he can see to what his accursed amulet’s done to my face.’
Young Strap hesitated in the process of laying the fire and looked at Kate questioningly. She waved at the young Guardian to carry on with what he was doing and turned on her commander: ‘You don’t think he’s in shock at all? You don’t think he might be a little disorientated? And he hasn’t slept all night either, don’t forget. He’s probably not thinking too clearly right now. But fine! Let’s look at your face first. I do hope your youthful good looks haven’t been marred at all, Scourge! Come here and keep still! Honestly, you men are all the same when you’re hurt or ill. You petulantly demand attention and mothering.’
The Scourge opened his mouth to retort, but then spied Young Strap shaking his head in warning. The Scourge cleared his throat and settled for a gruff ‘Well?’ as he endeavoured to keep his head still for Kate’s examination.
‘Well, there’s no blood, but you’ve definitely got something lodged in there. I haven’t seen the like before. It seems fused to your skin. It’s an odd shape. Lightning, perhaps?’
‘Cut it out with your knife!’ the Scourge said without hesitation.
Kate released his chin and stepped back. ‘That might not be wise right now. We don’t know how deep it goes and it’s quite close to your eye. I would prefer to have a healer on hand before we do anything, particularly if it’s not giving you too much trouble right now.’
‘I refuse to be branded by that bitch!’ he said hotly.
‘You mean the goddess,’ Kate corrected him, not bothering to hide her disapproval at his blasphemy. ‘Listen, if we can tend to Nostracles, he might then be able to help us with your cosmetic distress.’
‘Cosmetic!’ the Scourge squawked in outrage.
‘I think this blade will be hot enough in a few minutes,’ Young Strap interpolated judiciously. ‘Shall I make some tea, since we’ve got the fire started?’
Nostracles’s voice was hoarse and ragged when the blade was finally ready. His eyes looked in several directions at once and were never still. He showed no signs of being aware of his companions.
‘He’s not himself,’ Kate said. ‘Hold him! Watch to see he doesn’t swallow his tongue.’
The red hot blade came down on the flesh and seared it. There was the smell of cooking meat and they all fought to stop their mouths watering and their stomachs roiling. Sweat started on Nostracles’s forehead despite the cold air. His cries became weaker and then he fainted. Finally, there was silence.
‘Well, that’s some small mercy,’ Young Strap smiled tiredly.
‘Verily. His screaming was driving me to distraction,’ the Scourge agreed.
‘We should wrap him in a blanket and let him sleep,’ Kate directed.
‘Maybe we should all sleep,’ Young Strap suggested, looking at the Scourge for permission.
The Scourge nodded. ‘I’ll take the first watch, but I want the two of you to sleep with your bows ready and close to hand.’
The other two, leaden with fatigue, went about setting out bedrolls while the Scourge settled himself on a rocky outcropping with a good view of the surrounding area. He tried to ignore the itch of his cheek and started to replay in his mind all that had just happened to them, trying to fathom what meanings it held and discover some clue as to what had gone wrong. The suspicions that formed in his thoughts were more than enough to keep him awake for the duration of his watch.
***
She had been shut up in a small, circular room at the top of one of the highest towers in the palace. There were narrow windows high up in the walls, but they were beyond reach. It would seem that they were designed only to let in the light and the bad weather, not to allow any views over Corinus or opportunities for a prisoner to commit suicide. There was no furniture on which she could stand to reach the narrow apertures either. There were no torch brackets from which she could hang herself. In fact, there was exactly nothing in the room.
Even if there were some way by which she could attempt to kill herself, she doubted that she would die anyway. She hadn’t been fed in days – or was it weeks? – and that hadn’t had any noticeable effect on her. It seemed that she was kept alive, whether she liked it or not, by his magic. With a certain degree of sadness, she realised that all the intimate meals she’d sat down and shared with him had been a pretence of sorts, since she hadn’t actually needed the food. He had simply indulged her while she played at being fully alive and in control of her life. The meals had been somethi
ng to do, something to keep her occupied, if not exactly entertained.
Yet, at least he had indulged her then. There would be none of that now. Now, there was only chastisement and punishment to be had from him. If she were to hurt or kill herself, he would merely rejuvenate or resurrect her and start the punishment all over again.
She hadn’t actually seen anyone since she’d been incarcerated here. He hadn’t come to see her yet; and she knew that was a part of her punishment. She was a creature who desired company and love in order to feel valued. When she could not see her value reflected in others, she lacked a sense of purpose, lacked a reason to carry on. He had made her like that, so would know this isolation was the worst thing he could do to her.
She thought there was a guard outside her door, but she never heard a sound from him. He was not one of her making, so she couldn’t sense him and at least know the comfort of his definite presence. For the first few days, she’d cried and beat upon the door with her small fists. She’d pleaded, cajoled and made promises of favour. But the door had looked down on her silently and unmoved.
If it weren’t for Young Strap, she would have been utterly alone and would probably have lost her sanity. She spent nearly all her waking hours, and no few of her sleeping ones, watching him struggle with his companions across an icy landscape. He was a strange youth, full of complex emotions and unfamiliar thoughts. But his interior life was a bright and thrilling place. She devoured every fleeting image, concept and feeling with an obsessive need and insatiable hunger. Surely this was what it was to experience the love of a lifetime! His life filled the emptiness that was her own life. His life was becoming hers. She was beginning to lose herself, but felt no fear or sorrow as she slowly faded away. All she felt was delight, joy and contentment. Yes, for the first time in her knowing, there was a sense of rest and peace. Rest and peace. It was wonderful! She realised it was all she had ever wanted. It was enough. She didn’t require purpose after all. She didn’t require value. She didn’t require a reason to carry on. It was enough. She smiled.
She laid down slowly and closed her eyes. This time would be the last. She would disappear into Young Strap’s world and be no more. There would be no more white sorceress, no one to be Voltar’s trophy, no one to be Voltar’s prisoner, no one for Voltar to punish. She would finally escape this existence that was so much less than life.
Wait! There was a noise. No, not now! He mustn’t come here now! She tried to block out the distant noise of his footsteps mounting the circular stairs, but they would not be denied. They came louder and louder, like an approaching doom. She couldn’t tell if it was the blood pounding in her ears or the crescendo of an oncoming cataclysm that deafened her. She put her hands to her ears and whimpered, but he was in her head.
The door handle turned and slowly creaked open. She scrabbled to the far side of the room and pushed herself back against the wall. It was as far away as she could get from the door as it yawned open. She could see nothing but the void beyond the portal.
He stepped from the darkness glaring at her from under lowering brows. His eyes bored into her mercilessly and pinned her where she was. If she could but find the volition to move, she might skip past him and down the stairs, but her mind no longer seemed connected to her body. Had he done this to her? She floated close to the ceiling and looked down on the scene, but could not get out of the room, tied as she was to her corporeal form.
‘Yes, I have isolated your thoughts from your body,’ he informed her conversationally. He began to pace backwards and forwards in front of her, without looking at her directly.
‘To think that after all my efforts I would be so betrayed! To think that I could gift someone with life, a home and everything they could want, only to be treated with contempt and disregard in return. Was it too much of me to expect some manner of love, basic courtesy or simple gratitude in return? Was I too kind, too accommodating, too generous? Is my spirit more selfless, purer, brighter than that belonging to others? Am I a victim of my spirit’s unique and exquisite sensitivity? Am I destined always to be disappointed by others? I fear so.
‘Why do I tolerate it, for surely it is intolerable! How will the delicacy and beauty of my refinement ever be understood by the dull souls around me? Their concerns will always be tawdry, will always be ordinary, in comparison to my own. How can I make them see that they could be so much more, indeed are obliged to be so much more because of their potential, the opportunities provided them and the will of the gods themselves?
‘How? Once, I thought they would see it if I simply gave them the example of my own behaviour, but now I see they must be forced to accept what I tell them instead. Once they have been forced to follow my instruction, once they have learnt to obey me absolutely, then their understanding can be commanded and improved.
‘They must all be enslaved to my will. It is the only way. Don’t you agree?’
Of course, she could not answer.
He regarded her for a moment or two as if politely waiting for her opinion, sighed, shook his head sadly and continued pacing. ‘Well, I guess it’s beyond you at the moment. You are one of those I have only treated with kindness, accommodation and generosity. I am to blame really. It was a foolish dream on my part that there could be anyone else of my vision and insight. I made unfair demands on you in many ways. I spoilt you.
‘The only way I can save you now is to force you to accept what I tell you. I’m afraid that you will have to be enslaved to my will, sorceress. It is the only way. You might not see it now but you will afterwards. You will understand everything, afterwards.’
He came to her and put his hands around her slender neck. ‘I suffer more than you in this. My understanding of pain is far beyond your ken.’
He began to squeeze, gently at first, and then harder and harder. Her mind drifted back into her body and she stared into his face with wide, pleading eyes as she choked to death.
‘My understanding surpasses that of all mortals in this realm. My understanding is infinite compared to their dull and limited scope. I am divine amongst them. And should not a god be obeyed in all things? Should the will of a god not be absolute?’
She could not see or hear him anymore. It was a relief, but she knew it could not last. He would bring her back, and then her soul would no longer be hers. Hurry, Strap, hurry!
***
The sound of screaming woke Young Strap. He rolled over just in time to catch the Scourge as he prepared to stuff a gag into Nostracles’s mouth. The older of the King’s Guardians adopted a slightly guilty look, but wasn’t about to apologise:
‘I need some sleep. It’s your watch. I didn’t want him waking up Kate.’
‘You’re all heart,’ Young Strap said mirthlessly, but had to admit to himself that he wasn’t feeling all that well disposed to the priest either. ‘What do you think’s wrong with him… apart from the hand, I mean?’
‘Search me. I’ve poured a whole bottle of devilberry spirit down him and that doesn’t seem to have done much of anything.’
‘What?! No wonder he’s still screaming.’
‘Listen, it was that or slitting his throat. He’s driving me crazy! Besides, he should be grateful. That was some good stuff I let him have there. It should have taken the edge off any pain he was suffering. Given he’s still screaming loud enough to wake the dead, then there’s clearly something else up with him.’
‘Honestly! Remind me never to let you be my nurse when I’m hurt.’
Young Strap moved over to Nostracles, who was on the ground and had blankets wrapped tightly around him to stop him hurting himself in his delirium and distress. He slapped him hard across the face.
‘Yes, I see,’ the Scourge shouted over Nostracles’s uninterrupted, ardent screams, ‘there’s much I can learn from your bedside manner, Guardian.’
‘Okay, it’s going to have to be the gag!’
‘You are wise, young one. It’s that or we knock him out cold.’
�
�We should try to spare him further hurts if possible. And the gag might stop him swallowing his own tongue or biting it out.’
Perversely, their quieting Nostracles’s screams woke Kate.
‘What, what?’ she spluttered as she came back to full wakefulness. ‘How long was I asleep?’
‘Some few hours. It is still morning.’
She blinked moleishly against the light and rubbed grit from her eyes. Having popped into the bushes for a minute or two, she re-emerged to consider Nostracles while she rebuckled her green, leather armour. She shook her head but did not say anything about the fact that they had gagged him.
Then she crouched, unwrapped the blanket they’d put around him and gently removed the bandages they’d put around the hand to prevent infection. Even though Kate had tended the wound herself before, she still blanched at the sight of it. The thumb and first two fingers had been completely torn away, along with most of the palm of the hand, leaving only the last two fingers, which were black and twisted.
‘Can you move your fingers at all, Nostracles?’ she asked, looking into his eyes for a sign that there was some vestige of sanity there.
She was surprised to find that he was crying. He no longer tried to scream past the gag, so she risked pulling the cloth away from his mouth.
‘She has abandoned me!’ he rasped, and there was such loss in his voice that she could not help putting a compassionate hand to his shoulder.
‘Who’s abandoned you?’ Young Strap asked.
‘I am blind!’ the priest mourned. ‘I cannot sense any of the life around me. And I am deaf. I cannot hear the mice in the undergrowth or the wild boar deep in the woods. I can hardly perceive the three of you even though you stand before me. You are but shapes and shadows now where before you were glorious beings of light. She has abandoned me. I am no longer worthy of her blessing! I am outcast. Fallen, broken. There is nothing left to me. What have I done!’ he sobbed.
The Scourge cleared his throat awkwardly. ‘So, you… you can’t heal yourself then? You are powerless.’