~ Torrullin ~
Vacuum
TEIGHLAR AND TRISTAN retained no power, and Torrullin could not heal that lack while he had hold of Elianas, and thus he enveloped them into his signature and transported into the void.
The outward journey would be terrible. Now suffering lay in his arms also.
Yet it was as if the screams and begging of the lost retreated when he entered - no, they silently closed in and became part of the man he held. Elianas’ suffering had for them become the form required for release. It was recognition of agony endured.
Torrullin nearly yelled into the spaces, sensing them enter one after the other, by the thousand. How could Elianas possibly cope with this also? Leave him alone, he desired to scream, but understood it would change nothing.
Then they were out.
The void was finally silent. Empty. Lifeless. True void.
“What was that?” Tristan whispered. Sweat beaded his forehead despite the ice endured on the outward journey.
“Excelsior, what is left of it,” Torrullin said hoarsely. “Nuclear.”
Teighlar stared over his shoulder expressionlessly. “Certain folk are going to pay.”
Silence, and then Torrullin whispered, “I cannot …” He swallowed. “Just hang on, this will be fast.”
They flew through the spaces of worlds in the blink of an eye.
Palisade
TRISTAN SHOVED THE DOOR in, backing in and causing everyone inside to leap up in fright.
“Teroux!” Rose shouted.
Gods. Tristan swung around and went to her swiftly, leading her away.
Sabian was there, and Lowen. Alik and Mikhail hung back, both appearing horrified. The new arrivals did not look good.
Then Alik launched herself at her father despite his condition; bemused, Teighlar accepted the embrace, realising for the first time how much he could love this woman. All gods, he had a daughter; it was another second chance. He held her close, sending up a prayer of appreciation. Her arms tightened around him, causing every bruise to shriek under his skin, but nothing had ever given him as much joy.
Lowen took one look at Elianas, and went for water, towels and soap. She recalled another time when she was young on Lucan, after the space traveller landed, and Tymall came stumbling into the clearing in a forest looking much like Elianas did now. Torrullin had needed to clean the muck away first before he could commence real healing.
She shouted for Alik to help her.
Somewhere Rose screamed shock and denial. Tristan spoke in undertone to calm her.
Teighlar extricated himself from Alik and helped Torrullin lay Elianas on the bed prepared for him, saying not a word. He retreated to the central sitting area, placing the sword carefully on the table there and hung his head.
Alik wisely left him to his thoughts. Clearly the experience had been harrowing. They all looked terrible, as if they had known severe deprivation. Especially Elianas. She swallowed. He did not look healthy at all.
She wanted to embrace Torrullin to death for saving her father. She, too, had now discovered a second chance at family. The pain of her mother’s death receded somewhat as she acknowledged it.
“Rose,” Lowen snapped. “More water and soap for Teighlar and Tristan. Mikhail, start coffee - make it strong.”
Lowen, with Alik in her wake, forged past Teighlar to Torrullin and Elianas.
Rose wailed, and then Tristan took her shoulders, whispered intensely, and soon after she headed to the bathroom area.
SABIAN STOOD ON THE other side of the bed watching Elianas. He leaned over the man, a frown marring his usually smooth brow, before again straightening.
“These trapped souls must be released first.”
“I know,” Torrullin said, his voice toneless.
“This is my speciality,” Sabian said. “Allow me.” He looked up. “I must touch him.”
Torrullin nodded. “As fast as you can; I need to start.”
Sabian laid his hands on either side of Elianas’ slashed cheeks and even in the depth of unconscious Elianas flinched.
Torrullin hissed, but did not interfere.
Sabian brow lowered to the man under him, murmuring inaudible words. Long minutes passed, minutes in which Lowen arrived with water and towels and Alik with more of the same.
They dragged the cabinet closer to the bed and prepared, neither saying anything, although Lowen glanced repeatedly at Torrullin.
Sabian straightened. “I have them. They are enclosed in my signature.” He moved to the door. “I shall release them far from here.”
“Thank you,” Torrullin managed.
Sabian inclined his head, and left.
Torrullin glanced at Lowen for the first time. “Give me your knife.”
She bent and drew a small blade from her boot and handed it over. He carefully commenced cutting away the remnants Elianas still wore until he was naked on the bed. For an instant he leaned on his hands and hung his head.
“All gods, help me now.”
Lowen shivered.
“The worst wound is this one in his side; start washing there. Alik, please bring cold water to dribble into his mouth.”
The women set to work while his hands hovered over every injury seeking for degree. What would be first, and what could be last. He itched to heal those cheeks first, but understood, while the wounds appeared terrible, they were not essential to recovery. Not physically, anyway.
The wound in Elianas’ side was clean and he touched there for the first healing.
That first touch electrified Torrullin. Elianas was vulnerable and the Goddess of Souls had recently been removed, and thus it aided revelation.
It was a reaction far beyond anything between them until this point; this went right back, back to the very beginning. But there was not time for that, not yet. He swallowed the new knowledge to examine later, and moved to continue.
He could not afford to wait until Elianas was perfectly sterile, and thus he and Lowen worked together, she swabbing, he touching, and Alik patiently dribbled water into those cracked lips.
Elianas swallowed involuntarily.
Rose kept a flow of clean water coming, her eyes red and swollen from crying.
All the while Torrullin held the newness inside, wondering what it heralded.
Teighlar meanwhile slugged water and then slowly sipped Mikhail’s terrible coffee, and Tristan paced. A pall of silence hung over the palisade.
Torrullin pushed one shoulder back into place, and Elianas screamed.
Rose dropped a bowl of water and Tristan jerked to a stop. Teighlar muttered under his breath.
Grim, Torrullin rounded the bed and did the same for the other shoulder. Elianas whimpered.
His knees were next, and then the bruising to every internal organ. It took time, but he did it step by step, seeking proper healing rather than haste merely to see the man awakened.
He stood aside for a moment to read Elianas’ signature. It was stronger, and also beginning to build upon itself. Excellent.
Only then did he shift attention to Elianas’ face.
“Give it to me,” he said, gesturing at the clean cloth Lowen held in readiness. He took the cloth from her and leaned to the man’s face.
Elianas opened his eyes for the first time. His pupils contracted to tiny holes in the light, and then dilated as memory assailed him. “Leave them there, Torrullin.”
Torrullin froze.
“I want the scars to remind me,” Elianas whispered through cracked lips.
Torrullin leaned on hands placed on either side of Elianas’ head and stared deep into those dark eyes. He lowered his head to rest his forehead upon Elianas’. “I am so sorry.”
A breath of a sigh. “I know.”
Torrullin withdrew. “Allow me to remove the risk of infection at least. And I must clean the wounds. It will hurt.”
A brief nod answered him, and Elianas closed his eyes.
Torrullin drew in a ragged breath.
His hands shook as he gently wiped Elianas’ face. Another cloth and more water cleaned the wounds. Elianas’ jaw tightened, but he made no sound.
Torrullin laid his fingers on the dark man’s lips to heal them first; he exhaled hugely the instant the tension there released. Torrullin touched one cheek and then the other, gently. It was to remove risk only; it healed nothing.
“Torrullin, heal them,” Lowen said. “For heaven’s sake.”
“No, Lowen,” Elianas murmured without opening his eyes.
“Why?” she cried out.
Neither man said anything, and elsewhere Teighlar and Tristan glanced at each other. Sabian returned then and stood near the door watching everything with a serene expression.
Torrullin prepared to lay hands on Elianas’ torso to impart strength, moving his shoulders to release tension. Elianas struggled up onto an elbow. “Enough, Torrullin. Thank you, but no more.”
“I am not done.” A muscle twitched in Torrullin’s jaw.
“I am. Nature now takes its course.” Elianas glanced at Lowen. “A towel for modesty’s sake, if you will.”
Alik was silent at the head of the bed, but she looked at Lowen as well.
Lowen drew breath, forcing herself not to even glance at Torrullin, and handed Elianas a towel. He threw it over his lower region and manoeuvred upright to swing his legs over the edge. Standing shakily, he wrapped the towel around himself, and met Torrullin’s unblinking scrutiny.
“I am fine. I need to bathe.”
Torrullin animated anew. “You may fall. I will help you …”
“I would prefer that Lowen do so.” Elianas did not look at anyone but Torrullin. He was blind to everyone else there. His body shuddered as if in fever.
Torrullin nodded, understanding the need to find equilibrium. At this point Elianas felt unclean, and not merely physically.
He stepped aside. “As you wish.”
Lowen sent Torrullin a glance then, blanched at his rigid expression, and put her arm around Elianas’ waist. Together they hobbled into the bathroom area. Moments later the sound of a shower running echoed.
Torrullin laced his hands atop his head and inhaled deeply. Spots of colour returned to his ashen cheeks.
“Just give him time, Torrullin,” Tristan murmured.
“Elianas is strong,” Teighlar added.
Ignoring their words of wisdom, Torrullin moved then to tear soiled bedclothes off, and Alik swiftly stepped in and dragged him aside. “Enough. Sit. Have some coffee. Breathe. I can do the bed. I can clean up.” She paused, and then, “I am a doctor, but what you did is extraordinary.”
“I echo that,” Mikhail said.
Torrullin remained expressionless. He headed to the coffee pot on the table in front of Teighlar, not meeting the Emperor’s gaze, and suddenly veered off into the bathroom instead.
“Gods,” Tristan sighed.
“He feels humiliated,” Teighlar murmured. “Can you blame him?”
“Torrullin?” Mikhail asked.
“Elianas,” Sabian said.
TORRULLIN STRODE INTO THE shower cubicle.
Lowen stood to one side in case Elianas stumbled, and Elianas scrubbed soap over himself as if he sought to take his skin off. A frown marred her forehead, but clearly she did not know how to change the dynamics.
“Out,” Torrullin snapped at her.
“She stays.”
“Get out, Lowen,” Torrullin said, ignoring Elianas.
She went.
“You are hurting yourself, for Aaru’s sake. Let me.” Torrullin gripped Elianas’ hands, forcibly removed the soap and turned him to face the shower wall. He started washing his hair. Elianas would feel better if his hair returned to normal. Water sluiced over both of them.
“Talk to me, Elianas.”
“He did not rape me,” Elianas snarled.
“I know that already.”
Elianas leaned into his arms against the wall. “Torrullin, from my heart I thank you for coming for me, and from my heart I thank you for healing me, but I do not want to talk about this.”
Dirty foam slid down Elianas’ back. Torrullin started washing that hair again. He said no more, and when he was done, turned the man to face him.
“I know you and I understand why you seek to keep the wounds on your face, but they should be knitted together. Please do not be stubborn.”
Elianas face twisted, and he reached for Torrullin. The bar of soap thudded down as Torrullin took him into his arms and held on for dear life.
Words were unnecessary. True emotion lay in physical communion, given and received.
Long they stood, with water washing over them, masking their silence to the others.
Then, “Fennen Danae, Tingast, you, to Taranis, to me … and now my grandsons.”
Elianas’ fingers tightened on his shoulders and he stepped away. “We are blood kin, yes.”
“How long have you known?”
“Second cycle.”
“Why say nothing?
“Need was greater.”
A smile. “As ever.”
Elianas moved under the spray and rinsed his hair. “No, it is different now.”
“Elianas.”
“Heal me, Torrullin, but leave scars,” Elianas said tightly.
Torrullin swore. “Maybe I do not know you.”
The dark man faced him. “You will. This is the between, and it will pass. I merely need some time.” He lifted a finger to Torrullin’s face. “I am beyond relieved to be away from that hell and I am overjoyed you were the one who came for me, but right now I need to shut these emotions into a dark place.”
He stood there then, with water pouring over him, and waited.
“I understand.” Torrullin stepped closer and laid his hands on those hollowed cheeks. When he withdrew them two scars marked the man’s perfection.
“Am I still beautiful?” Elianas mocked.
“Always,” Torrullin said.
Elianas closed his eyes. “Please leave me.”
By the time Torrullin wordlessly left the bathroom area he was again dry.
TORRULLIN STRODE ACROSS the space to Lowen and Alik remaking the bed. He halted there. Both women gazed at him, unspeaking. He speared Lowen with a silvery gaze. “Ask him what he wants to wear.”
She cocked her head to look at him oddly, and then simply walked back to the bathroom.
Alik sighed, out of her depth. She glanced at Teighlar, but no answers were forthcoming from that quarter. What was this tension about? This was rescue and healing, and yet never had she functioned in this kind of expectancy. She could swear something was about to explode.
Teighlar grunted as he stood. He ambled nearer and halted at the foot of the bed.
Before he could say anything, Torrullin said, “You need healing also. Give me your hand.”
Teighlar understood he was establishing normality, and extended his hand. “Bites and bruises, really. Otherwise I am fine.”
Nodding, Torrullin transferred both healing and energy, and then made his way to Tristan to do the same. Tristan gazed up at him, his support clear in his grey eyes. Torrullin offered him a lop-sided smile and moved away.
“A presence is protecting this place.” Teighlar waved a hand vaguely. “What is it, and where is this?”
Torrullin glanced at him. “You sense it? Is your power returned?”
A slow nod. “Thanks to whatever holds the shield you threw.”
Torrullin lifted his gaze to Tristan. “And you?”
“The same.”
“Ah.” Torrullin frowned.
Lowen returned. “Some things never change, Torrullin. Like showmanship.” She shook her head. “And he says he will dress himself.”
Elianas’ power, clearly then, was back as well. Elianas, in fact, was a few paces behind Lowen, dressed in black as Torrullin was wont to. Lowen’s showmanship. His hair was still wet and his face was expressionless. He ignored Torrullin in favour of Alik, which almost caused T
eighlar to bristle, until he heard the request.
“Do you have a comb?”
She blinked at him, and understood. “Rose has one; I will get it.” She slipped past the silent gathering near the bed, to return shortly holding the article in one hand. She looked at his hair critically. “You cannot untangle that - sit, I will do it.”
He eyed her and smiled wryly, returning to the central area and taking a seat at the table. He flung his hair over his shoulders.
Teighlar did bristle then, and felt guilty for feeling so protective. His daughter simply helped someone who had emerged from absolute hell in the only manner she had on offer. Gods.
An instant later Torrullin slammed from the palisade.
“Jeez,” Mikhail murmured. “Why is there so much tension?”
No one answered; those who understood why, were not going to speak of it, and those who did not, could not.
Elianas looked at him as Alik started pulling at his hair. “And who are you?”
“Mikhail Bannerman.”
“Hostage?”
“Yes.”
Rose muscled in. “What about Teroux, Elianas?”
“I was not aware of much around me, Rose. I am sorry.”
She bit at her lips. “No, I’m sorry.” She sat opposite him. “How are you feeling now?”
A shrug. “I will survive.” Elianas glanced at Teighlar and Tristan. “You two could use a thorough soaking.”
Tristan nodded. “In a while.”
The three men gazed at each other.
Elianas looked away first.
Alik muttered to herself as she concentrated, and Elianas said, “Leave it. Later, we will do it later … but thanks.” He was on his feet and looking at the door. “He is up to something.” He glanced at Lowen and inclined his head.
Together they immediately moved for the door and vanished into the snow outside.
Alik was not the only one completely astonished.
Chapter 40
Love comes first, cousin.
~ Matt Dalrish to Le Moss Dalrish
On the subject of young Lowen ~
Frozen Forest
Lore of Sanctum Omnibus Page 163