One (The Godslayer Cycle Book 1)

by Ron Glick

  But her father had only smiled and told her to wash herself before coming out for the noonday meal. And even at the meal table, Papa did not yell at her nor insult her as he sometimes did when she had disappointed him. In fact, he did not say a word about the stone throwing game. And she did not bring it up because she knew she had gotten scared and run away like a baby.

  It was over a week before Mari first saw Nathan Goodsmith and learned it had been his mother they had played the game with. And worse, she learned it had been a game that had taken his mother away from him forever. She did not understand right away what that had meant. At first, she had thought his mother had gotten scared like she had and run away, too. The ugly man had been really scary! Maybe his Mama had been so scared she had run away from home? That did not make her a very good mother, Mari had remembered thinking.

  When at last Mari realized the truth, she had been even more scared than when the ugly man had yelled at her. It did not seem possible that Papa would have helped kill the boy's Mama! Worse, that he had made her take part in it! When she had learned the truth, she had run home and cried harder than she had ever cried in her life. And all she could think about was how lonely that poor boy would be without his Mama to tuck him in at night for sleep...

  Mama had come asking after her, but Mari would not talk. When Papa had come in, she could not speak to him about it, either. Eventually, Papa had asked Mama to leave, and he told her she was Papa's special little girl because she had helped him where no one else would have. He tried to explain to her about how she had helped remove an evil, evil woman from all of their lives. The woman had not looked evil, though – she had been real pretty. But Mari did not know what an evil, evil woman would look like, either. So she had just lay there and listened as her Papa ran his hand through her chestnut hair, giving her all the special attention she had always wanted, yet now seemed to matter so little.

  Mari became the center of her father's attention after that day. He spoiled her over her two siblings, her preferred status earning her envy from them. And she did not even want the special treatment. She wanted to be left alone and to have things go back to the way they had always been. Every time Papa would bring her something special or take her someplace for only the two of them, she was reminded of what it was that had brought them so close together in the first place. And she would see that beautiful head of hair covered in blood and the deep, lost eyes of young Nathan when he told her that his mother had gone away forever.

  After a time, she went out of her way to follow Nathan around whenever she could. For the first few months, she had not seen him, but after winter hit, he could be seen quite a lot around the ugly man's building. Anyone who saw her thought she had a little girl crush on the handsome older boy. No one else knew how she tortured herself over how much she had hurt him and how she wished to hurt herself to make the pain go away. But she knew she could not stop the pain by hurting herself, and she knew that if she somehow did, she would not be there to watch after Nathan. She was wise enough to know that, at least, even at ten years old.

  She had ended up following him around for years, always keeping her distance, always retreating if he seemed to notice her. If Nathan thought her behavior strange, he never said anything. Though from time to time, she would see a pretty smile on his face that seemed to be meant for her. Of course, she had convinced herself that that was just her mind playing tricks on her. How could he be smiling at her when he did not even know her? Besides, deep down she knew that she had become an evil girl herself and was scared of what Nathan would do if he found out.

  As the years had passed, she had blossomed. She grew into her womanhood without actually realizing it. Certainly, she knew that her breasts had developed, her hips had broadened and her menstruation had begun. But she had not connected these things in her mind as anything special or noteworthy, nor had it occurred to her that anyone else would have taken notice. What she had not realized was how appealing these changes had made her to the boys in town.

  However, just as oblivious as she was of her beauty, so also was everyone else aware that Aliban's painfully shy little girl had eyes only for Nathaniel Goodsmith. None of the other potential beaus in town even made more than cursory efforts to win her attentions. Nathan though was the only man she cared to watch, if not necessarily for the reasons anyone else suspected, and she had no interest in the fawnings of other boys her own age. They had other girls that were far more receptive to their charms, anyways, so that no one even tried to divert Mari's attention at all after awhile. She had gained the reputation of being a little too simple, touched in a special way that made her less desirable as wife and mother. So much so, in fact, that beyond the simple desire to rut, her father had not even been able to attract suitors for his daughter's hand.

  Mari was not the only one who had taken notice of the young orphan, though. Many young women swooned over him and he had more than a few flings with them. And though Mari felt twinges of hostility towards the other girls, something later she would acknowledge as jealousy, still she saw Nathan laugh and be happy when he was with them, and that mattered more to her than her own misgivings. She had already caused so much pain in his life, how could she now begrudge him his happiness?

  It had been the fall of Mari's fifteenth year when Nathan had finally trapped her. She had become lost in thought in the marketplace and had failed to see him approach from behind until his arm had somehow wrapped itself around hers and her basket had ended up in his opposite hand.

  “You're Aliban's daughter, Mariabelle, aren't you?” he had asked simply, staring ahead as though they had been engaged in an ongoing casual conversation all along.

  Mari had blushed and only nodded. He had to have seen her head move out of the corner of his eye because he went on.

  “I knew that, actually. I've known for a long time. And I've wanted to talk to you for so long now, but you always run off.”

  “W-why?” she had managed, looking away to hide her face. She could not tell what she was feeling, between her fear of being caught, her embarrassment at his attention, or the butterflies from... she did not know where they came from, only that they made her want to sit down.

  He had not responded right away, and she was forced to look up to see what he was about. He had been looking down on her with the deepest blue eyes until she had looked back at him. “Because you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” he said as simply as if he had told her to watch her step.

  He would have done better to tell her to watch her step, because no sooner had he spoken than she had stumbled so badly that only his strong arm suddenly wrapped around her waist had saved her from falling altogether. Somehow in her stumble, she had ended up against his chest, her eyes locked with his, the young man's arms holding her firmly from behind. From that moment on, she had lost herself to him forever.

  Their romance had been fast and passionate. They had planned to wed in the spring of the following year shortly after her sixteenth nameday, but her father had vehemently objected to the pairing. Though Aliban was not one to make public displays, in private he berated his daughter endlessly over the humiliation she had cast upon him. He knew Nathaniel's mother had worshiped the Old Gods, and he would not see his daughter – and especially not his grandchildren – corrupted by the old ways. It took countless promises from Mari that she would not let her children be raised in the old ways, made frequently and piously, before her father finally relented and granted his reluctant consent to the union.

  Nathan had never known about the promise. Nor had he ever known about her part in his mother's death. For four years they had lived here, in the cabin where he had grown up. Geoffrey had been an almost immediate blessing of the union and Mari had thought the curses of the past had left them all behind. She kept her father distant by keeping to her promise, and made her husband happy in every way she could.

  Until today. Or yesterday, at any rate. Someone had finally broken ten years of silence and to
ld Nathan the truth. She had had nightmares of his finding out early on, but after they had wed and moved away from town, thoughts of exposure had all but vanished. She had thought she was safe from discovery at this late a date. Even when Nathan had acted so oddly the night before, it had not occurred to her that he might have learned something about this. But he had and now he was gone. And she had every reason to believe he would not return. Or, if he did, it would be to take Geoffrey and leave again. It was certainly a fate she deserved.

  Duncan had held her for hours and listened to her incoherent gibberish. She was not even sure all of what she had told him. There was a point that she began confessing every lesser sin she had ever committed, as well, followed by things she had done to make up for those, none of which compared to the real sin that had overshadowed her entire life and that now had cost her her marriage. There was a point she had rambled on about the chores she did around the cabin each day, how the garden was nearing harvest, of the meals she had planned for the rest of the week. Anything to keep talking about anything other than the real issue at hand. Anything to keep from accepting that she had lost the man she loved.

  Somewhere amidst the morning hours, Geoffrey had woken up. He had wandered into the room and had set upon the idea of playing with Mari, but she would not respond to his presence, at all. She simply kept on rambling the meaningless details of her life. Duncan had sat silently, near tears himself at the scene of innocence displayed by this woman's son and the inability of his mother to even acknowledge her son's unconditional love for her. After several failed attempts to get her to wrestle with him like Papa did and having her listless arm fall away, he finally headed out the front door to play, with a cautionary word from Duncan to stay in sight of the door.

  Duncan was at a loss entirely in what to do or how to act. He felt uncomfortable holding another man's wife so intimately, while his body was completely aware of the intimate contact he now shared with such a beautiful woman. And Mari had lost none of her allure for having born a son, either. She still had that slim figure, petite breasts and hips with wonderful chestnut hair. Even with her eyes puffy and cheeks flushed from crying, she was still exotically breathtaking. Duncan would never act on the attraction, of course, but he could not help but long for more than just to hold this woman.

  More than once he had tried to relax his hold upon her, but Mari had clutched herself desperately to his tunic, begging him not to go, promising to stop crying or rambling or whatever it was she imagined her offense had been to make him want to leave. Of course, his staying did not stop the crying or rambling or anything else. Like the incoherent words spewing from her deepest self, the words were meaningless, just a reflex to not be abandoned. Duncan was confident that Mari was not even fully aware of what she said or did. He became deeply concerned that she had slipped into madness.

  After a time, Duncan realized that Mari had actually drifted off to sleep, though she still mumbled incoherent syllables. She had completely worn herself out and now looked only tiny and fragile. He delicately extracted himself, ignoring as best he could the prickles running up and down his legs until he could get out the door to stomp his feet upon the ground.

  Geoffrey nearly barreled him over shortly after he had barely begun, though. The little tike growled as if he were a bear, mistaking Duncan's stomping for a signal to horseplay. “Grrr!” roared the little man. “I'm a mo'ster! Grrr!”

  Duncan allowed the boy to tackle him down and rumble over him for a few minutes before he noticed the priestess walking up. Immediately, he put the boy aside and climbed to his feet, brushing himself off.

  But before Duncan could speak in greeting, another voice from the cabin beat him to the task. “Did you find him? Is he coming home?”

  Brea looked hard at the woman who was her unwitting rival. She looked a wretch, with her face tear stained and her hair rustled. It also had not escaped Brea's attention that the woman was still dressed in her nightclothes. A look of suspicion passed over Brea's face, as she cast a glance between Nathaniel's wife and the man she had brought as guide. Could her state of undress be because she had sought comfort in this other man's arms? While Nate had been torn with grief, was she practicing her seductress ways on someone else now that she knew her ruse had been exposed?

  “I found him, yes,” she answered at last, regarding Mari with a cold glare.

  Mari saw the look and blanched. “He told you, didn't he? He told you that I... what I did?”

  Brea nodded once. “He did,” was all she could manage, her own voice catching, caught between her loathing of this woman and her own deep emotions for this woman's husband.

  “Is he... is he coming b-back home?” she hiccoughed.

  “It would seem to me there's not much reason for him to, is there?” Brea said, putting as much chill into her voice as she could manage. She wanted this woman to suffer for all the pain she had caused. Brea did not care if it was justified or not, only so long as the woman felt some of what she knew Nate felt. But she also knew that if what Nate believed were true, she stood little chance of piercing the stone heart this woman must possess. What kind of person could marry a man, bear his child and be a scorpion in the sheets every time? Brea had been guilty of some callous things in her own past, but what Mari had done went so far beyond even Brea's capacity to understand.

  Mari's eyes sprung renewed tears, streams pouring down her face as though she had not cried a drop yet today. She could not say anything coherent, just kept mouthing, “No, no, no...” over and again, shaking her head back and forth.

  “And you, sir,” Brea turned to Duncan. “Would you compound the matter by taking advantage of a man's pain to have your way with his wife? Not that she would not deserve most of the blame, certainly, but...”

  “My Lady, you have me a'wrong!” Duncan interjected. “I did nothin' more'n comfort the lass!”

  Mari, for her own response, stopped mumbling and shaking her head, staring ahead dumbly with shock in her eyes.

  “Comfort?” spat Brea. “Is that what you would call it to bed another man's wife?!” Anger flashed in Brea as her mind fell instinctively to the portion of her mind that possessed her magic, sifting through and calling to mind a spell to punish the two unfaithfuls in her presence.

  “I swear, My Lady,” pleaded Duncan, backing away as he saw the fire building in the priestess' eyes. “I did nothin' of the like! I swear I laid no hand 'pon Mari that was not of gentlemanly intent!”

  Brea's mind snapped as the import of the words struck her. Duncan's words had been true. Imery's gift had just spared her from acting out of irrational malice, a sin that would have forever turned Nate against her for certain! Worse, she would have been as guilty as that “priest” who had caused the death of Nate's mother, using her power to inflict harm upon innocents. No, she confessed to herself, I would have been the killer this time...

  “Is that what Nathan thinks? Why he didn't come back?” Mari stood pitiably at the door.

  Brea could not help but feel like a heel for jumping to such erroneous conclusions so readily. “Under the circumstances, I believe I was justified in my suspicions,” was what she said instead, though.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” voiced Duncan.

  “For a woman to commit her body to her faith is one thing, but to prostitute it in the name of faith... Well, let me just say that there are limits any decent person has, even in spreading their faith.”

  “What are you saying, Lady?” asked Duncan again. “You walk a dangerous turf here, even for a priestess. First accusing Mari of being unfaithful, now prostitutin'! Why do you play at bein' so cruel?”

  “Let the woman answer for herself,” said Brea, fixing her gaze on Mari. “Do you deny that you agreed to bed Nate in order to breed out Nate's faith in the old ways by denying his son such guidance? And at the instruction of your father, no less?”

  Mari blanched again. Her promise to her father. How had Nate found out about that? Only her father and he
rself knew about that. So Nate must have been confronted by her father while in town. That was how he had learned everything he had, why he had taken it to heart so readily. And everything, it turned out, really did mean everything.

  “By Zantel, no,” she managed.

  “That was not a denial,” Brea corrected.

  “He knows. He knows everything.” Mari's chin quivered as she tried to hold back sobs. “It's really over... He knows and there's no future... He's leaving me, isn't he?”

  “What would you have him do?”

  “I – I need to see him. I need to explain it all to him!” Mari began wringing her hands together, her eyes taking on a distant, vacant look. “Oh, how can I explain it all? He will never understand!”

  Suddenly, Mari straightened. “Nate will need something to eat when he gets home,” she said. “He'll not like talking until he's eaten. And I should draw the bath, at least heat the water so it's ready for him. And I'll make the bed, so it looks nice. And, oh,” Mari reached up and ran her hands through her hair,” I must look a fright! Do you think he'll be upset that I haven't dressed yet? Oh, and Geoffrey will need cleaning and fed, so he's all nice and handsome for his Papa. And...”

  Mari just continued rattling on, looking ahead without really seeing Duncan or Brea. Brea was about to interrupt when Duncan laid a hand upon her arm.

  “Lady, she's been like this all morning. I fear she's gone mad with grief. Or perhaps guilt over what she's done. I be no judge. But I be thinkin' that Nate's likely the only one who can have any hope of savin' her mind.”

  Brea looked dumbfounded. Insanity? Surely the woman had done enough to bear heavy guilt, but how could exposing that guilt be enough to break her mind? Had she been ensorcelled in some way so that now that she was outside the boundaries of the spell, her mind could not cope? It seemed a reach, but Brea was otherwise unable to think of a reason for this turn.

  As Brea stood trying to contemplate that possibility, Duncan moved past her to take Mari by the arm. “I'm thinkin' maybe you need to lie down awhile, lass. You do not seem so well.”