Talia and Isaac

by Lorraine Margaret

  Her people were surrounded by men from the villages, presenting an intimidating united front. When Isaac kidnapped her and made her his sex slave, could he ever have envisaged his reckless actions would result in civil war?

  Suddenly her mission was not just personal. The future of Cornicunia lay in her hands, but all she cared about was Isaac. Her army was assembled behind her, four hundred brave and loyal men intent on rescuing their king. Her army. Her Isaac. She had never anticipated battle nor the recruitment of the villagers to the Lokian cause, but it made perfect sense. Isaac had abducted her because of his fear of the Lokians’ influence over the Cornicunian people – and this was the result of that. A newly formed, ferocious Lokian army intent on righteous revenge. But she would not let this series of unfortunate events and misunderstandings bring about the downfall of her country…

  “Talia?”

  Abraham was looking to her, clearly believing she was the only one who could avert disaster. Save Isaac, save Cornicunia from bloody revolution and civil war. But she cared about only one thing. One man. Her husband whose breathing was becoming weaker by the second…

  “Isaac!”

  Over and over, she screamed out his name, her throat burning with pain, her starved lungs threatening to collapse from exertion. Her voice was powerful, commanding… demonic. No one would argue with that voice. It contained all the pain and fear and loss she had felt since she watched Isaac being rowed away from her – she became her suffering and nothing else. There was nothing left of Talia but agony and grief. She wanted her husband back. Now.

  She leapt from Assisi and strode towards the Lokian troops, ignoring the stunned expressions on their faces. One small visionary had immobilised an army, shocked hundreds of men into silent submission. They were in thrall to her every move, their eyes fixed on hers, waiting to see what she would do next…

  “Move aside! Now!”

  The interlinked huts of the Lokian village spread out behind Rowan and his makeshift army. Isaac was there. Her beloved home was her husband’s prison and she knew exactly where he was. If you navigated the maze of passageways correctly, they all led to one place. A large central area where group meditation and meals took place, a tranquil haven for a close-knit community of peace-loving, spiritual souls.

  But there was one anomaly…

  There was one room Talia could not remember ever being used – until now. It lay underneath the communal area, next to the cellars, a Lokian interpretation of a castle dungeon, an underground prison and punishment room…

  A prison that was home to her beloved Isaac.

  Rowan stared at her, wide-eyed, open-mouthed, transfixed by her passion. And the fear in his eyes… Abraham was right. She was terrifying. Her need to save Isaac had made her a monster, obliterated Talia and transformed her into a terrible creature intent on only one thing…

  Get Isaac back.

  She would do anything to achieve that. Absolutely anything. And Rowan recognised that. He shook his head as his eyes moved to the army behind her, and she screamed furiously at him.

  “Move aside, Rowan! Now! I am going to Isaac!”

  Rowan didn’t ask why she wanted to visit Isaac, her captor, her abuser, her king. He didn’t ask why she was furious with him. He was too shocked to speak. He dismounted and slowly walked towards her, his dazed eyes fixed on hers, oblivious of Isaac’s army.

  “Where’s Jenna, Talia?”

  Physical threat was of no consequence to a Lokian when love was under attack. Jenna was all Rowan cared about just as Isaac was all that mattered to her. They were both desperate to be reunited with their loved ones. Rowan was talking to her as if she were a traumatised child, his voice soothing and melodic. But she was not listening.

  “No! There is no time for talk! Isaac is suffering. I can feel it. Give him to me. Now!”

  She pulled herself upright to try to make her five-foot-five inches match Rowan’s six-foot muscular frame. Sadly she did not achieve this miracle, but it was immaterial for she was stronger than ever before. A warrior queen intent on saving her husband. She would never back down. One small woman would win this war.

  “Where is Jenna, Talia? Tell me.”

  Love had made Rowan so brave, it was glorious. There were four hundred men behind her, teeming through the dense forestland, ready to attack from all sides. Just one word from her, one tiny gesture, would result in carnage, the destruction of her people. But Rowan cared nothing for the threat of bloody battle, he only cared about his wife.

  “No!”

  What was that? A voice from the heavens above? An angel? Majestic and pure, the sound echoed throughout the forest invoking startled cries from birds.

  Was that her voice?

  “No more talk. Give Isaac to me, and I will give you Jenna.”

  “What?!”

  One word was all Rowan could manage, his eyes bulging with shock.

  “And if you have hurt him, Rowan, I will have my men kill each and every one of you.”

  Rowan was reeling; she had shattered the world of the most serene of Lokian men with just a few heartfelt words. His powerful body shook and his face paled as he stood like a ghost before her. The spectres had followed her to the forest; she was destined to be forever haunted. Rowan was a shadow, a faint imitation of the man she had known all her life. He had lost his beloved wife and now Talia was challenging everything he believed in.

  “Your men? Talia, my precious sister, what have they done to you?”

  “There is no time for this, Isaac is suffering. There is no need for battle, no need for anyone to die here today. I just want my husband back and then you can have your wife. Give Isaac to me. Now!”

  Tears streamed down her face, glistening droplets of water containing all her anger, grief and despair. Only one thing she needed and then she could breathe again. Isaac was ailing, fading by the second – her breath caught in her throat as he battled for air. There was no time to waste, but Rowan was frozen, his mouth moving silently on one word. He repeated it over and over again as if doing so would make sense of what he had heard.

  Husband.

  She had no time for this, couldn’t waste another moment. With one final mutinous glare, she strode past Rowan and began the long walk through the Lokian army to her old home. They were the only obstacle between her and Isaac – they were no obstacle at all. She would climb mountains and tear forests apart with her bare hands to get to him. She began to walk between the horses and the men urged them closer to her, trying to block her path. Would her own people crush her? Let them try! She was going to Isaac.

  “Talia!”

  Rowan’s voice was impassioned – and full of pain. She turned to face him, unleashing the full force of her fury and determination in one demonic glare. Rowan’s strong body swayed, his eyes bulging as they met hers.

  “Just tell me one thing, Talia, is Jenna alright?”

  The pain in his words rivalled the agony twisting in her heart, but she felt not a shred of compassion. She could barely breathe – Isaac was dying.

  “She’s alive. She is on her way here by carriage and the sooner I get to Isaac, the sooner you can have her back.”

  And he had better be in one piece… The tightness in her constricted chest intensified, crushing her lungs, stealing the breath from her body. She doubled up in pain, gasping for air. This agony was Isaac’s, not hers. She must be strong, must save him. She wrenched herself upright, clutched her heaving chest and strode past the open-mouthed villagers. Familiar faces, old friends, admirers of her spiritual gifts – but not today. Today these good people meant nothing to her. Clyde was standing outside the main entrance, his small frame stooped with age. Her spiritual guru had always been like a grandfather to her, but today she ignored his concerned eyes and ran towards the doors, no time to waste, no time. She could barely breathe, Isaac could barely breathe. One of the men dismounted and ran alongside her, wrapping his strong hands around her waist. She screamed, “Abraham!” as she
slammed her knee into the man’s groin. Aidan, a good man, a friend – but not today. He released her and fell to the ground, doubled up in agony, as Abraham and Bernard rode forwards. Abraham held his arm high in the air, poised for the gesture that would herald the end of her people, the end of a united Cornicunia.

  “Abraham! The marriage papers! Show them to Rowan!”

  Hundreds of men were silent as mice as Abraham dismounted and strode over to Rowan. He moved in slow motion, opening his jacket to retrieve the papers with no sudden movements that might cause panic amongst her people. The future of Cornicunia was teetering on the brink of a precipice, just one slip and disaster would prevail. Abraham passed the papers to Rowan, physical proof of her union with Isaac, his eyes fixed on the Lokian man’s.

  “My seal is at the bottom. I was ordained fifteen years ago in the village of Gaal, there are men here today who will vouch for me. God blessed me with the power to join two people in marriage and I will only ever do so when that marriage is the celebration of a mutual, loving bond. I give you my word as a man of God.”

  She watched as Rowan wrenched his eyes from Abraham’s to focus on the papers. His hand shook, and his face turned grey.

  “Let Talia pass!” Rowan’s voice boomed through the forest, sparking startled cries from birds. “Let her pass! She is your queen! Talia, Lokian visionary, is Queen of Cornicunia!”

  All eyes turned to her, their shock and disbelief evident as they sank to the ground in a collective respectful bow. For a moment she stared in wonder at the bowed heads of her people, her authority as queen vibrating through her body and spirit. But she had no time to revel in her new-found power, no time for explanations, no time to lose. She gasped as life-giving air refused to travel through her body, refused to reach her burning lungs.

  Isaac, I’m coming for you.

  She turned and raced towards the dungeon. Rowan ran behind her shouting out three words over and over again. “Let her pass!” “Let Talia pass!” People scattered in shock as she flew past, wailing like a banshee, people she had known and loved all her life. They were wide-eyed and pale-faced as they watched the terrifying creature true love had made of her. “Talia, Talia!” the spectres cried out, their mouths gaping wide in shock, but she would not stop for anyone. She wailed as she ran along the winding passageways, a ghost haunting the place she had lived in all her life, a ghoul terrifying her own people with her violent passion. Only one thing mattered.

  Isaac.

  Her heart crashed against her chest as she clattered down the steps, her head spinning from lack of oxygen. Two of the elders were sitting outside the dungeon door, their crinkled eyes widening as she descended upon them. Their most treasured pupil had forgotten her lessons, all spirituality and serenity cast aside. She had been snatched by King Isaac and he had made her a wild thing with only one purpose in life.

  Him.

  “Let me pass!”

  “Let Talia pass!”

  She turned to see Abraham running alongside Rowan who was still clutching their marriage papers in his hand. Bernard was not far behind.

  “Let her pass!”

  The men drew alongside her as the elders stepped aside. Rowan was a white-faced, wide-eyed spectre staring at a woman he had known all his life but didn’t recognise anymore. His world had irrevocably altered. Talia had returned and was no longer the serene Lokian visionary, revered by all. She was Queen of Cornicunia, King Isaac’s wife, and a warrior through and through. She tore her eyes away from the compelling confusion in Rowan’s and raced through the dungeon door. Her breath caught as the dank air assaulted her tortured airways and burned agonisingly in her chest. How dare they put Isaac here? This disgusting, stench-ridden place was the unlikely home of the most spectacular being in the universe…

  “Isaac!”

  It was the most beautiful sight she had ever seen – and the most terrible. Her overwhelming joy and relief were tempered by unimaginable pain…

  Isaac.

  Her beloved husband was strung naked against the filthy dungeon wall, in all his powerful, masculine glory. His muscular body was bruised and bloody, but his manhood was intact. The bastards had wrapped a chain around his neck making it virtually impossible for him to breathe. Isaac was fighting for life, his eyes closed, his body so still it was terrifying. As she ran towards him she saw the faint movement of his chest, exquisite evidence he was winning the most important battle of his life. Isaac’s precious heart was still beating and it belonged to her, his new wife.

  “Isaac!”

  She flung herself against him, and his eyes flickered open, slowly, painfully. His bloodstained mouth curved into a grotesquely beautiful smile.

  “Wanwisa… my wife.”

  “Isaac.”

  His voice was so weak, it terrified her. She nuzzled into his chest, covering his poor, abused, naked body with her strong, powerful one. His heart beat steadily against her head, calming her as it always did, and she breathed in his heady musky scent, enriched with a hint of orange blossom. The most beautiful scent on earth. She raised her head to gaze into his exhausted eyes and they caressed her with love so deeply felt her soul wept with joy. Isaac was intact in body and spirit; her people had not destroyed his mind. His eyes were clear and focused but surrounded by dripping blood, and he was barely breathing. She needed to press her lips against his, bless him with her life force, but he was strung too high to reach.

  “Set my husband free! Now!”

  Rowan stepped forwards, his eyes dazed and unseeing, and she vented all her fear and fury on him.

  “Pull yourself together, Rowan, and give me the keys! Now!”

  “Where is my wife, Talia?”

  “Let my husband go, Rowan, or you will never see Jenna again!” Rowan bit his lip, clearly not trusting the new demonic Talia, but she had no time for this. “Now, Rowan! Give the keys to Abraham!”

  Tears streamed down her face as she clung to Isaac’s battered, inert body, the only sound the desperate rattle of his breathing. Rowan stared at her as he handed the keys to Abraham.

  “Husband,” he muttered emptily as Abraham unlocked the chain around Isaac’s neck.

  “It’s alright, Isaac, we’ll have you out of this in a second.”

  Isaac’s breath rasped as Abraham pulled the chain away from his neck and air finally moved freely into his body.

  “Talia… no… my arm first, Abra.”

  Abraham had moved onto the chain around Isaac’s chest, but did as his friend asked and unlocked the manacle around his wrist instead. As soon as his arm was free Isaac tried to move it towards her, but it refused to obey him.

  “Talia.”

  Isaac’s voice was stronger and joy flooded her heart, the intense sensation of relief bringing a strange, euphoric sickness to her stomach. Her insides churned and twisted, and she suddenly felt exhausted as if she could sleep until the end of time. Bonded for all time. Isaac was safe, his manhood intact. She had saved him.

  Abraham was massaging Isaac’s dead arm, encouraging the flow of blood, bringing it back to life. When Abraham knelt to unlock the manacles around his ankles, Isaac was finally able to wrap his hand around her neck.

  “I love you as no other has ever loved before.”

  “Love you… as no other has ever loved,” he murmured as she craned her neck, desperate for his kiss. Their eyes locked together, clinging to the intimacy and reassurance of their love. She wanted to wrap herself around his naked body and never let him go. She clung to his chest as she kissed the garish purple bruises on his stomach. His hand tightened around her neck.

  “I knew you were coming, Talia, I heard you… you were inside my mind.”

  “I tried to help you with your breathing. I was so scared for you, husband.”

  “Husband,” Rowan repeated emptily as if it was his new mantra.

  “That’s right, husband and wife, bonded for all time,” said Bernard, his voice triumphant and full of awe.

  Abraham stood a
nd smiled up at Isaac. “I’m going to release your other arm now, Isaac, and finally your chest. Talia will help support your body.”

  She cuddled into Isaac’s bruised chest, trying to kiss his pain away as his newly freed hand stroked her hair.

  “You did help me, Talia, I felt your love. You gave me strength. We were together even though our bodies were apart and I look forward to a lifetime of such wonders. Loving you has transformed my life.”

  “Isaac…”

  “Help me, Talia, or he’ll fall.”

  Abraham pulled the chain free from Isaac’s chest, the three of them a muddle of limbs and chains and love. Isaac fell heavily into her arms, and Abraham somehow managed to support them both, holding them upright as Isaac’s dependent weight made her topple backwards.

  “Isaac!”

  “It’s alright, Talia, he’s just weak.”

  “Bring my husband some water! Now!” she commanded as Abraham helped her gently lower Isaac to the ground. She flung herself on top of his poor damaged body probably causing him to suffer all the more.

  “Talia,” Isaac murmured, his eyes burning with the spectacular something as she finally managed to press her lips against his. He wrapped his arms around her as he lay naked on the cold stone floor, and she pressed herself protectively against him, stroking his chest while they kissed. His skin warmed under her touch, her love bringing Isaac back to life.

  “Here, Talia.”

  Abraham crouched beside them, and she took the flask of water and held it against Isaac’s cracked lips. Never had she been so satisfied by watching a man drink! Isaac had always nurtured her, it was finally her turn to take care of him. Long, he drank, as Abraham supported his neck, and she stroked his blood-tinted hair.

  “My poor husband, your head needs to be stitched and you must sit in comfort while I do it.”

  Abraham looked up at her, his eyes wide. “Another of your talents, Talia?”

  She managed a weak smile. “All Lokians are taught medical care in childhood, it is the most practical skill we can learn to assist other living beings.”

  “Here, Talia.”