by Phil Parker
The riders began their second attack cackling and cursing in equal measure.
The children’s deaths galvanised the villagers into action. Mahon climbed on to an old cart and used it as a platform to launch himself at the nearest rider like a huge, human cannonball. Both horse and rider fell sideways, trapping the man under the weight of his steed. Mahon got to his feet, shook his head and hurled himself onto the back of another horse, grabbing the rider by his hair and hurling him to the ground. Both times the villagers bludgeoned the men to death with whatever was handy.
Now mounted on horseback, Mahon chased down the others. He was joined by Luke, who’d caught a riderless horse and rode it with one hand holding the reins while he jabbed and swiped his wooden pole. It reminded me of a grudge polo match I’d once watched that had got hopelessly out of hand.
Mahon and Luke spotted the man with the torch as he thrust it into the thatch of a hut roof and waited for its inhabitants to try to escape, he didn’t realise he was in danger until it was too late. Luke delivered a roundhouse thwack of his pole that struck the man’s back but he was a sufficiently skilful on a horse that he stayed in his saddle. Not so when Mahon leapt off his horse and onto the other man’s, the horse reared up, screaming in panic. Both men were thrown and rolled towards the blazing hut as a woman ran out of it with a child in her arms. Mahon was on his feet with incredible speed, picked up the other man by his trousers and riding jacket and hurled him bodily into the hut, just as the roof collapsed and flames leapt into the sky. Briefly there were screams.
Two men and a woman had also hurled themselves at another rider, they didn’t have Mahon’s strength but their numbers and determination were enough. They dragged him off his mount and smashed and kicked him into a pulp.
It was enough for the two left to jab their heels into the flanks of their animals and gallop out of the village, over Taranis’s dusty colours that had been trodden into the ground. Their fate would doubtless be any better than their comrades, once they told Taranis how his cavalry had been beaten by a bunch of villagers.
Beaten perhaps but these people had paid a terrible price for their victory, bodies lie in the dust, many were badly wounded and Cori hurried amongst them performing a speedy triage. He issued terse instructions to survivors to bring those with serious injuries to a table in one of the huts where a woman was ripping up lengths of material while another woman held a knife in a flame. Luke and Mahon, both of them spattered in blood, turned into medics as they carried men, women and children begging for help, crying for the pain to go away or for death to claim them.
I’ve witnessed battles of all kinds, both big and small, but the worst ones are where civilians are the ones to suffer most. Children sat in solitary desolation, staring blankly at the ground; one small boy sobbed uncontrollably while a slightly older boy hugged him as silent tears ran down his face. One little girl hugged herself and rocked backwards and forwards as she stared at the body of a woman in front of her.
I walked amongst the villagers, trying to help as best I could but mainly apologising for the trouble I’d brought them.
Night arrived and Cori continued to work in candlelight as he sewed up wounds, amputated limbs and offered reassurance to those who were dying. I’d respected the young man for his kindness to me but he dealt with each patient calmly and professionally, giving them what they needed most, the feeling they were in safe hands. A woman had cooked a stew, even though one side of her face was bruised and swollen and her arm looked to be broken. A couple of children delivered bowls of it to anyone they found, their faces were tear-stained and their eyes showed they hadn’t begun to process the horrors they’d witnessed. Luke and I were sufficiently experienced in battlefield injuries to wash wounds and sew those that didn’t need Cori’s expertise. Mahon, Geralt and a couple of the other men carried the dead to the graves they’d dug amidst a small grove of beech trees on top of a small hill that overlooked the prettiest part of the valley.
The stars shone down on us and mists floated like lost wraiths when everyone finally stopped. I didn’t sleep, the sound of children waking from nightmares, the groans of the wounded and my sense of guilt permeated the darkness. Luke lay a short distance from me, exhaustion had claimed him eventually though he’d worn the same expression I’d seen on so many warriors after a battle, a look of regret that merged with horror.
Morning brought an inappropriately rose-tinted glory to the sky. Everyone was up early, too many people needed attention in one form or another. We bathed in the stream, I couldn’t help but notice how Luke scrubbed at his skin and his clothes to remove the dried blood and the filth from the day before. I also couldn’t help but notice the looks I got from some of the villagers too. Luke told me I was imagining it but you don’t misunderstand the harshness of blame when it’s directed at you.
‘We need to leave,’ I told him.
‘You’re not well enough,’ Cori said. He’d appeared without me noticing. His face had a waxy quality, his eyes were deeply sunken into dark patches and he looked like he was about to fall over.
‘You can talk,’ I said.
‘No one blames you,’ he replied.
I told him he was wrong, that the villagers had every right to resent my presence and if I was in their position I’d certainly feel that way. That, according to Cori, was the difference, I was supplanting my guilt on to these people. We argued back and forth for a couple of minutes until Geralt joined us and stood at his brother’s side, they were like bookends. He didn’t say anything for a second or two, he looked at me with an expression I couldn’t read, when he did speak, there was an edge to his voice that surprised me. He looked as exhausted at his brother but there was fire in his eyes and it burned fiercely.
‘Stop feeling sorry for yourself,’ he began. I confess to gasping loudly.
‘None of this is about you,’ and he waved an arm at the village. ‘This is a symptom of a broken society where there is no accountability. They didn’t come for you, what you saw yesterday is a regular event, a bit of fun for murderous bastards, perhaps training too. It hardly matters what the reasons are, the fact remains that they get away with murder because Taranis, and those like him, are powerful enough to evade justice. This won’t be the last time we’ll suffer like this, they’ll come back soon to get their revenge. Except we’ll be gone by then, we’ll find somewhere else to live. Until they find us again.’
He pointed at the two boys I’d noticed the day before, they’d come to the stream and the older boy was encouraging his younger brother to wash himself. Their movements lacked the spirit and endless energy of childhood, there was no splashing or laughter, just the mechanical act of washing their bodies with slow, distracted actions.
‘When those two are old, things will still be the same. That’s if they live that long, the chances are they won’t. They’ll die in prison or be beaten to death or starve under the yoke of unscrupulous taskmasters. That is their fate Robin. In a way, those that died yesterday are the lucky ones.’
We stared at the two youngsters, their ablutions finished, the older boy took the other’s hand and led him back to the village. Geralt turned to look at me and held my eye.
‘I’m grateful for everything you’ve taught me Robin. I’d hoped to find something in your experiences that offered a solution that wouldn’t require revolution. You’ve shown me how naïve I was to believe in such ideas. However, you have confirmed one thing. A revolution needs a figurehead, someone people will fight for and believe in.’
Alarm bells sounded in my head.
‘That’s not me! You’ve got that all wrong. Believe me.’
Geralt’s smile was the kind that tells you no amount of reasoned argument is going to make any difference, it’s the smile of the lunatic.
‘No Robin, you’re the one that’s got it wrong. You killed the High Lord of the Dark Court because he was a ruthless murderer. It’s sparked the belief amongst a lot of the population that such people can be
brought to book, even vigilante justice is acceptable. They need to fight for it, like you did.’
‘Oh, hang on, it wasn’t like that. You weren’t there…’
That smile remained on his face as Geralt gave me a careless shrug.
‘It doesn’t matter. I’ve told you, you’re a figurehead. What you did matters, not how or why. The outcome is the important detail.’
He stepped forward, placed a hand on my shoulder.
‘You’re not fully recovered. You’re still weak and tired. You need time to think about what I’ve said. One thing I know about you Robin, you cannot tolerate injustice. You have been a victim of it for the whole of your life. You have fought those who have abused others, you protect those who cannot defend themselves. You think you are damaged, a bad man. You cannot see who you really are. But keep this question in mind Robin, you owe it to those who died here yesterday.’
He paused, the smile widened.
‘How long are you prepared to wait until we change things in Tir na nÓg and there’s no longer a need to fight injustice?’
The young man turned and marched back to the village before I had chance to reply, even if I could have found the words needed. I watched him run to catch up with the two boys and put his arms across their shoulders, they ambled into the village where he spoke to a woman briefly and handed the boys over to her.
Cori had the same smile on his face as he watched me.
‘He’s good, isn’t he?’
By mid-morning we’d eaten a makeshift meal that had been prepared for everyone, finding food and preparing it involved the whole village now, unless they were severely wounded. There’d been a couple more deaths and Luke insisted he helped in their interment. We’d each been given one of the cavalry horses and we held their reins as people said their farewells. Mahon’s was succinct and brisk where I was concerned, Luke was awarded a pat on the back and hearty handshake.
Cori walked with us beyond the village, we’d decided not to ride the horses so it didn’t upset the children. He’d given me a final check and pronounced me stupid for leaving before I was properly recovered. He turned to Luke, head to one side in a gesture he and his twin shared whenever they were curious.
‘You’ve noticed a difference in him, haven’t you?’
Luke sighed and nodded. Cori turned to me with that look doctors give when they have bad news.
‘There are stories of Taranis’s experiments, they are likely to be inaccurate and exaggerated, but I worry there may be an element of truth in them. I think he has done something to you, you need to be watchful of your condition and keep Luke informed all the time. He knows you well and will be best placed to help you.’
‘What stories?’
He opened his mouth to say something and closed it again.
‘I don’t think it’s wise to say.’
That bewildered me and I told him so. He shook his head and his mane of hair.
‘Luke, I would like to talk to you though.’
They left me with the horses and I watched their animated conversation, Luke turning to look at me occasionally, his expression was not a happy one by any means. It doesn’t fill you with hope when the doctor tells everyone else but you about the bad news.
They returned, we hugged and I thanked Cori once again for saving my life. We got on our horses, not the most comfortable of modes of transport I found but it was a lot speedier than walking and would get us to Nimue’s court before nightfall.
‘Well, what he did he tell you?’ I asked.
Luke smiled. ‘That you’d ask that question within less than a minute.’
I glared at him. ‘Come on. Tell me. It can’t be that bad.’
He didn’t look at me but kept his eyes on the road ahead of us. His bleak expression said it all though. Obviously, it could be that bad.
Chapter 16
The gentle caress of warm lips on mine.
I moaned softly at the sensation. Warm breath, sweet and smelling of violets made me smile. Lips brushed against mine for a second time.
I had died and was in paradise. And it was bliss.
I didn’t want to open my eyes, in case, like waking from a dream, everything vanished.
I reached out, hopeful. Rewarded by the perfect undulating curves of a female body next to mine. I let out the quietest of whimpers at my delight. Her skin yielded to my touch, so softly. My fingers glided over its smooth surface, I was rewarded for my efforts with little gasps of delight. Another kiss, hungrier now, my body responded to the invitation, blood pounded, my chest ached. I badly wanted to open my eyes, to see the glory of what my fingers were describing for me, my fear of ending the dream collided with my raging hormones and lost.
Darcel looked back at me, her dark eyes full of joy and excitement.
‘Welcome back.’ She purred. Her grin was full of mischief and promise.
‘Hello Darcel,’ I murmured.
I chose to define paradise as the place where your greatest wish was granted, a reward for a life lived without too many mistakes. Paradise had consulted my mind and created Darcel, who had provoked such lust and excitement when I was alive, it was compensation for my lack of courage when she’d shared my bed. Eternity offered happiness with the woman I’d loved from the moment we met. I closed my eyes to savour her lips as they met mine again, we kissed for the longest time, I had eternity to enjoy this perfect woman. I’d lost my self-consciousness too, I didn’t care she could see my own nakedness, my arousal. I’d travelled beyond Life and such things no longer mattered. Freed from such awkwardness I savoured the feel of her long, spider-light fingers as she explored my body, thrilled at the moment she held my manhood in her hand and gave a little gasp of excitement.
Our lips parted, her voice was less than a whisper.
‘I thought I’d lost you forever.’
‘Mmmm.’
Her lips found my eyelids, she kissed them with butterfly-soft delicacy. Her kisses explored my face, my neck and eventually returned to my lips, already hungry for hers again. Her face was so close to mine I felt the warmth of her breath on my skin.
‘I thought you were dead. Thought I’d lost you forever,’ she said as she nuzzled my neck.
She thought I was dead. Did that mean I was alive? Paradise began to crumble around me, the dream was ending and I couldn’t stand to lose her.
I opened my eyes. Properly. Looked around me.
I was in my bed. In my bedroom. In the palace. In no doubt about one indisputable fact.
I was alive. I wasn’t in paradise after all.
That was the moment my brain started to function again, as shock abandoned it and reality stepped in. I hadn’t died at my coronation after all. I had survived. More importantly, Darcel was real, she was naked and she was doing wonderful things to me. I quickly redefined paradise. I looked down at my chest, where Darcel ran her fingers softly across black and purple bruises above my heart.
‘Does it still hurt?’
I become aware of the delightful sight of the naked woman next to me, my pulse quickened and my heart complained at the increased workload. My ribs ached and now my attention had been drawn there, it hurt a lot.
‘No.’ I wasn’t going to let pain affect what was happening here.
Her mischievous grin widened. ‘We’ll take it slowly and carefully, make sure we don’t cause any trouble. Your physician is nearby if you need him.’
‘I’ll be fine,’ I said. I didn’t care. I’d dreamed about this moment. I wasn’t going to let pain spoil my newly discovered paradise. I allowed my eyes to wander over her perfect body, I searched for words to describe her but my brain had shut down, too little blood to feed it. It had headed south.
‘You. Are. Beautiful.’
I hardly recognised the husky sound of my voice, my throat felt tight and my breathing laboured. Darcel’s eyes suddenly filled with tears. I couldn’t bear to think I’d upset her but she also struggled to speak.
‘When I heard you’
d died, I realised I’d passed up so many chances to tell you how I felt. I made a wish. If I could see you again, even for a minute, I’d show you how I felt.’
We kissed. The desire to prove to this woman how I felt meant my kisses found a need so intense, so powerful that I couldn’t satisfy it, each kiss only provoked a need for another and another. We’d both made wishes I realised.
‘I thought I was in paradise when I woke just now. I thought my wishes had been granted too.’
She giggled. It was the sound of bells rung at Beltane festivals.
‘You’re so beautiful Darcel. Your face. Your eyes that see directly into me. Your mouth that I love to kiss.’ I grinned. ‘And your breasts, the times I have looked at them. They are perfect.’
Her eyes darkened, her lids grew heavier, despite my ignorance I recognised lust when I saw it. She stretched an arm and a leg across my body and sat on top of me, took both my hands and placed them on her breasts, we both giggled. Her eyes had fire in them now, she gazed into mine and I hoped she wouldn’t notice my nervousness.
‘You just lay there, let me do the work,’ she said.
She guided me inside her and waves of pleasure rippled through my body, words deserted me again, all I could do was gasp and whimper as she started to move her hips. Our eyes were magnetised as we shared our bodies. Too soon, the intensity building in me went beyond my ability to control it, I exploded inside her.
We kissed with even greater need than before, at every opportunity I told her how beautiful she was, how I didn’t want that moment to end. How I loved her.
We lay together like that for so long, time lost its meaning. I was happy. I’d never experienced happiness, hadn’t expected it. Life meant misery, it would never change. Now I knew differently.
‘I love you Darcel.’
She raised her head, searched my face, smiled.
‘You love sex you mean.’
I shook my head fiercely. ‘No. Yes. I mean I love sex with you. Of course I do. I want to do it with you repeatedly. But I love you. I love how you’ve always cared for me. How you tried to make me believe in myself. I love how you make me happy. I love how beautiful you are.’