Destiny

by Fiona McIntosh

  Tor did not believe it but he knew Alyssa was set on a course—a destructive one—and he could not allow her to face it alone, particularly in the bleak mood that enveloped her now. ‘Then I will help you.’

  At this she turned once again to look at him and her whole expression had softened; melted back to the gentle one he knew and loved so very much. ‘You cannot, my beloved. This is my final part in this whole scheme. It is my destiny. I must face it as you must face your destiny.’

  He shook his head, refusing to accept her words.

  ‘Poor Tor. You’ve never really understood that neither of us have been in control of our lives since Merkhud came into them. Rue the day at Twyfford Cross when you intervened and saved Marya’s life. If not for that, he would never have discovered us and we would be married and living quietly in the southern shires.’ She smiled very sadly now. ‘But what’s done is done and now we must play out our roles to their end. Lys has her designs for both of us. My mother is cunning indeed. Can you not see? She has never permitted us to be together. And she never will.’ Alyssa stood. ‘Now kiss me once more, my beloved husband, and then we must finish what we came here to do.’

  Tor, too rattled to do anything but obey her wishes, stood and held her close. His feeling of helplessness was so great that he took comfort in the only thing he could—her lips and her touch. He lost himself, pouring every ounce of his love into his embrace, willing her to believe him that he would somehow save them both.

  Lyam came for them and when they stepped outside, they saw that all the sentient community had gathered. Their faces were grim; none looked at ease with whatever decision had been reached. Tor understood. These were not cruel people—some of them perhaps, after all these years, were unable to feel the same hate for the pathetic man chained to the post, still cursing and snarling.

  Gidyon and the others had gathered near Goth. Cloot was perched above the prisoner. It was a deliberate show of power over a man who had struck such fear into so many.

  Lyam addressed them. ‘We have made our decision,’ he said sombrely.

  Tor nodded. He spoke loudly so all could hear. ‘This man is guilty of so many heinous acts. It is a mercy to the land to destroy him and I promise you I take no man’s life lightly…not even his.’

  He could feel Alyssa rigid by his side. Her gaze was focused on Goth, who squirmed beneath it, ranting his hate for all sentients.

  ‘Tell us your decision,’ Tor said finally.

  Lyam cleared his throat. ‘He must burn as Tallinor pronounced he should.’

  ‘And may he never find the Light,’ Alyssa whispered for Tor’s hearing.

  Lyam continued. ‘It must happen quickly. At sunset.’

  ‘Will you make the necessary preparations?’ Tor asked, his voice devoid of all emotion now. He knew this was right.

  ‘They have already begun. At sunset, follow Marya.’

  Tor thanked the man and then took Alyssa’s hand and walked to where Goth stood. The former chief inquisitor’s fury was palpable. The sentients began to disperse, uncomfortable with the situation forced upon them.

  Tor spoke now for the benefit of his own small group. ‘Be quiet, Goth!’ he commanded and miraculously the man stopped his noise. He eyed Tor balefully, his face a constantly moving canvas of hate. He ignored the others, focused on his enemy and laughed at him. ‘I do not fear you,’ he said.

  ‘It matters not. I want you to understand that you have been brought here to face your justice, long overdue. You are dead many times over for your deeds, Goth. This is simply the closing chapter in your vile, sad life. Tonight you will die as ordered by the royal decree of his majesty, King Lorys of Tallinor.’

  ‘And are you my judge and executioner, Gynt?’

  ‘You were judged a long time ago. I am here only to bear witness to your death.’

  ‘Leave me!’ Goth spat. ‘I wish no longer to see you or any of your evil spawn.’

  Gidyon could not help himself. ‘We do Tallinor a great justice in ending his life.’

  Themesius nodded. ‘I’ve known him only days and he makes my skin crawl.’

  ‘I’ve known him too long,’ Saxon said quietly and then he looked at Alyssa. ‘Tonight he will be delivered.’

  As the sun began to lower behind the mountains, Marya came for them once again. ‘It is time,’ she said and everyone stood, their nerves on edge after a day of high tension.

  She pointed. ‘When a Brocken dies, he faces west.’ They heard Cloot click his agreement across the Link. ‘We feel it’s appropriate that as Goth will die in the Rork’yel Mountains, he should follow the Brocken way.’

  It is too good for him, Cloot replied for their benefit alone.

  ‘Follow me,’ she said. ‘Who will bring him?’

  ‘I will,’ Themesius answered. He strode towards Goth who had been strangely quiet for the afternoon.

  Now the prisoner began to struggle at the sight of the approaching giant. He could see his hated enemies watching and he had been aware for some time now of a stream of people slowly and laboriously snaking their way up through the rocks on a track.

  Marya looked towards that column of people now. ‘We go to the top of this mountain to pray. It is fitting he goes to the gods from this peak.’

  Everyone followed Themesius, who had slung Goth like a sack of flour over his shoulder. It was done effortlessly and he walked without breaking stride, as if there was no burden.

  It took them some time to reach the summit. Tor once again helped a curiously weakened Alyssa on the trek upwards. She seemed to be sinking in time with the sun to a place even Gidyon could not reach. Tor was worried for both his wife and son now. He tried to comfort Gidyon by explaining that his mother was melancholy, but even to his ears the words sounded contrived and hollow. He probed towards her and found she had shielded. Tor knew he could break down her shield, but to what end? Her wrath probably. She had somehow broken free of him and withdrawn. All he could do was keep her safe until she came back from where she was hiding and stopped being afraid.

  It was a silent and bleak group that at twilight finally crested the mountain top. It was eerily quiet up there and without a breeze. The sky, appropriately aflame in the dying orange of the sun’s glow, would soon deepen to pink as dusk descended. No children were present, but as many of the community as could stomach this event had gathered and stood now to watch Goth being brought up over the rise by the giant. Themesius unloaded his cargo, which was bound and still snarling.

  Lyam had decided on no further formalities. There had been enough talking. It was clear he wanted this deed done.

  ‘Tie him,’ he commanded of two men.

  ‘Wait!’ It was Marya. Her eyes were wide and burning with a fervour that those gathered could only imagine was revenge itself. ‘He must be naked, as we were. Stripped and humbled.’

  Lyam nodded. ‘Do it.’

  It was done, despite much kicking and shrieking by Goth. Many were appalled at the sight of his naked body. None of these people had heard of his mauling at the end of a Kloek blade. He was bound swiftly to a tall boulder which had stood in that spot for centuries. Each of the sentients filed past and threw rushes at Goth’s feet. It had been determined that each of the sentients who had felt his branding iron would play their own part in his execution. He—no longer sane it seemed—cursed every one of them, as spittle from his lips flew and his manic eyes rolled back in his head.

  He looked like a demon and many of the women turned away once their rushes had been thrown down.

  Tor noticed none of the rushes were damp, as they would be in the favoured method to prolong a burning for the victim. No, these people wanted their tormentor dead and gone; his ashes scattered to the winds amongst the forbidding Rork’yel Mountains.

  The rushes were laid. The sun had set. Dusk had arrived…that strangely magical time between day and night when a soul could flee easily to its gods.

  Lyam turned towards Tor and Alyssa. ‘Does any of your
group want to say anything before Marya touches with the flame?’

  ‘I do,’ Alyssa suddenly said.

  ‘Don’t,’ Tor cautioned.

  ‘I must,’ she said.

  She glanced towards Saxon who nodded. Have your say, beautiful girl. He took the most precious thing from you. Now throw it back in his face, he said on a private Link.

  Tor wished she would not. This situation felt strangely dangerous. All the hairs on his arms had lifted. He felt an old fear grip him. Cloot arrived at his shoulder. Impeccable timing as always. The falcon’s talons, large and strong, centred him.

  All right? Cloot asked.

  I will be when this is done, he answered, his jaw clamping his teeth hard.

  She must do what her instincts instruct, Tor…as we must, Cloot gently counselled.

  Alyssa walked around to face Goth, who mustered an evil grin for her.

  ‘Alyssa, I’d ask you to suck my cock for old time’s sake, but as you can see, I am without.’ And he went into a fit of manic giggling.

  She shivered. ‘You were created by fire, Goth,’ she said, frowning. ‘It is fitting that the flames dismantle the creature you have become and burn away your sins. Go to your gods—whichever of them will have you. You can hurt me no more.’

  She nodded towards Marya, who lit a bushel of dry wheat from a nearby torch which had been carried, burning, to the peak. Everyone held their breath. Tor felt the world spin slightly. It felt to him as though an important milestone in his destiny was being reached.

  Marya looked into the victim’s twitching face but Goth only had eyes for Alyssa. She touched the flame to the rushes. They caught fire instantly.

  Goth began to laugh. He began to speak gibberish. His ravings and rantings had fallen into utter madness and his face contorted with the insanity which was finally taking him over.

  Saxon watched him wrestle against the bindings and wondered if they would hold against his strength. He mentioned it to Figgis who nodded sombrely. ‘We should have seen to that part ourselves, I fear.’

  Themesius heard and bent down to whisper, ‘Let’s hope the fire consumes him quickly.’

  Gidyon had heard this exchange too and stepped towards his mother. Tor did likewise. Both of them hated her making herself so available to Goth’s eyes which were refusing to leave her. She seemed mesmerised as the flames began to engulf the pile of rushes.

  Tor spoke gently. ‘Step back, my darling, please.’

  She resisted his touch. ‘No, I will watch him to his end.’

  Gidyon and Tor stole a worried glance at each other. Then we stand beside her, Tor said to his son privately. This is not good for her.

  And so they stood and watched their enemy writhe against the heat of the flames which were yet to touch his already once-burnt skin.

  A soft breeze blew through and some sparks lifted and landed against his face. Goth was shocked back to reality. They could see those sparks had blackened his cheeks. His eyebrows shrivelled and his legs seemed to be ablaze. It was horrible but still Alyssa fixed her eyes on the man she hated.

  He focused on her again. ‘Alyssa!’ he yelled above the roar of the flames now. ‘I’ll always be the first man to have had the pleasure. Never forget that. It will haunt you for ever, my pretty thing. You were mine; I marked you!’

  That was it. She could take no more. No more pain from this man; no more taunts or cruel words. He had stained her life with bitterness and fear and now she would rid the Land of him once and for all. Tor felt the rising wave of power but did not react quickly enough. Alyssa gathered her strength and screamed as she hurled her magic towards him. Flames exploded bright and white about Goth. Gidyon was reminded with horror of his own terror at Duntaryn, which had created a similar white flame that had burned its victims to ashes.

  Goth burned quickly now. His skin melted like butter and he screamed his agony into the blackness which had stolen across the sky. In the intense brightness of the flames, Alyssa felt dizzy; she sensed herself being sucked uncontrollably into a void. And in that black space, she saw Xantia.

  See what we do to your daughter, coward. Won’t you try to save her?

  She saw beyond Xantia to where a huge, golden-haired man, naked and erect, was lowering himself over and into her prone child. Lauryn was sobbing and begging for mercy.

  No mercy, the god yelled as he penetrated her.

  She screamed her pain and despair but the god did not stop.

  Call him! he ordered, as he rode her body viciously. Call him to me and I will stop.

  No! Lauryn gasped, her eyes wide with agony and fear.

  He arched his back and pushed harder. I can keep this up for hours, his ugly voice called to her.

  I will not summon him, you devil. Orlac! Save me!

  Forget Orlac. You are for my pleasures now. Look at me, girl. I am Dorgryl, your ruler…the new ruler of this Land.

  Xantia’s wicked laugh could be heard above her master’s rasping voice as he lost himself in vile pleasure.

  Tor watched in horror as Alyssa’s body went rigid—her eyes were staring and wide, pupils dilated and oblivious to anything in front of her. Tor grabbed her to prevent her falling, and in that moment, the burning figure of Goth began to strain against its bindings.

  Hold, damn you, Saxon cast, begging the rope which held Goth not to yield.

  But Goth was strong. Even as his flesh fried in the ferocity of Alyssa’s flames he found impossible strength to rip himself free and lurched, screaming his hate, to the edge of the clifftop and plunged to the valley floor below. Themesius, Figgis and Saxon rushed to the edge to watch the fiery figure drop to its death.

  It was only then Saxon noticed Tor and Gidyon bent over the prone figure of Alyssa. Tor was begging his wife to listen to him; shaking her by the shoulders, screaming her name over and over. They could feel him casting powerfully, probing all around her, trying to chase her to wherever she had gone.

  Gidyon was too shocked to speak. He crouched by his parents and it was Themesius who finally came and lifted the young man to his feet.

  ‘Gidyon!’ he commanded. ‘What occurred?’

  The voice of his Paladin snapped him out of his stupor. ‘She went rigid and fainted. I know not what has occurred. Help him, help my father find her!’

  Figgis put his hand on the shoulder of Tor who kept up a stream of encouraging words, begging his wife to return.

  Torkyn Gynt! Figgis spoke only to him. We need you.

  Tor looked into the dwarf’s face. She’s gone.

  Does she breathe?

  Tor did not seem to understand.

  ‘Themesius…does Alyssa breathe?’ Figgis asked.

  The giant bent to the tiny chest and the others shooshed everyone about them.

  He looked up finally. ‘Her heart beats but is faint.’

  Both Tor and Gidyon found their wits. ‘Quick, Themesius, we must carry her to the Forest. We must leave now,’ Tor said, standing and running his hands wildly through his hair. ‘Is it over?’ he asked the Kloek, referring to Goth.

  ‘He threw himself over the ledge…his favourite trick,’ Saxon replied.

  Cloot! Tor called.

  On my way, the falcon replied flying high and then stooping to drop in a deep dive towards the valley floor. He would check to ensure the smouldering body was dead.

  Lyam ran up. ‘What has happened to the Queen?’

  Tor’s distraught expression told him there was no good news. ‘We don’t know. Goth inflicted terrible cruelty on her and her family,’ he answered, sliding around the truth. ‘She has fainted it seems, but I think we must leave here now.’

  Themesius picked her up as though she weighed no more than a feather. Her body was now limp; her eyes closed to them.

  ‘You’re leaving now, at night?’ Lyam asked, astonished.

  ‘Yes.’

  Saxon began walking with Themesius. Figgis followed with Gidyon who barely felt the guiding hand of his Paladin.

 
‘I’m sorry to leave you in this manner,’ Tor said and meant it.

  Cloot arrived back. Goth is no more.

  Are you sure? Tor said, his voice raspy in the falcon’s head.

  He is dead.

  ‘Goth is finished,’ Tor said to those who had begun to gather about him. He looked at Marya. ‘We must leave. Our work is done here.’

  ‘You’re leaving us now?’ Her voice was full of disbelief. ‘But you promised to lead us from here…those of us who want to return.’

  Tor’s voice softened. He was eager to join his friends, get Alyssa to safety, but knew he must give these people an answer…some hope. ‘I meant my promise. We will return. We will come back for you and bring you back safely into Tallinor proper.’

  ‘When?’ Lyam asked. ‘I’m not sure I will be one of them, but there are many who have expressed a desire to return to their homes.’

  ‘Soon, I promise you. I must get Alyssa to help outside this valley. We cannot take you with us through the night. Let me do what I must and one amongst us will return for you. You have my word.’

  ‘Keep that word, Torkyn Gynt. You owe it to these people,’ Lyam counselled. ‘We will await your coming and make our preparations.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Tor said, relief flooding his body. ‘I must go now.’

  ‘I can’t say we thank you for leaving the Crown’s business to us but we do thank you for tracking Goth down and releasing us from his hold.’

  Tor nodded and offered the Tallinese handshake. ‘Until we meet again.’

  Cloot flew on ahead and Tor jogged until he caught the others up. ‘Any change?’ he asked breathlessly.

  ‘None,’ Saxon said. ‘The Heartwood is our only hope.’

  The going was difficult because it was so dark but Cloot’s instructions once again guided them flawlessly through the strange twists and turns which would bring them back out at the fringe of the Great Forest. Along the way, Gidyon tore strips from his own clothing and tied them to branches or placed them beneath stones.

  ‘Why?’ Figgis asked at last.

  ‘One of us has to come back for them,’ was all he said.

  No one wanted to think on the implications of why it would not be all of them.