Talia and Isaac

by Lorraine Margaret

  “Forgive me, Talia.”

  Rowan’s face had changed, no longer that of the serenely spiritual Lokian carrying out a ceremonious act. He was the devil incarnate. His eyes flared with crimson fury as his sword fell again and again and again. Justice had already been served, this was something different. Rowan’s sword sliced relentlessly into Michael’s lifeless body, dismembering each limb to leave only a torso, a grotesque parody of a man. And that was still not the end. Rowan continued with his bloody vengeance, separating hand from arm, foot from leg in never-ending spurts of blood. It was all too much. Her spirit understood why this was happening, but her body rebelled against the terrible sight, smell and sounds. Blood gushing, bones crunching, putrid human flesh… Her stomach lurched and her head spun violently.

  Strong arms encircled her, shielding her from horror; her soul had seen too much of it today…

  ***********

  “I’m so sorry, Talia.”

  She was lying on a rug in one of the small meditation rooms. Isaac was sitting beside her, pale as death, and Rowan was holding her hand.

  “Don’t apologise, Rowan, you have nothing to be sorry for.”

  “It was not the Lokian way.” Rowan shook his head, unable to look her in the eyes. She lifted her head and shook it firmly. She would not allow him to chastise himself.

  “Some crimes are too barbaric to be forgiven, some emotions too intense to leave unexpressed. Not everything in the mortal world can be handled in the Lokian way. We must always aspire to the laws of the spirit realms, but sometimes the actions of others leave us no choice but to fight.”

  “Well said, Talia.” Isaac stared at Rowan. “I would have done the exact same thing.” His voice was grim, and she knew what he was thinking; Isaac would have done the same thing if Michael had attacked her.

  “Is Jenna here yet?”

  “Bernard has gone to see if the carriage has arrived. Don’t worry, Wanwisa, everything is going to be fine.”

  “I’m sorry for being feeble.” She closed her eyes, overwhelmed by all she had experienced today.

  “Never feeble, Talia, you’re my hero, you saved me.”

  As Isaac helped her to her feet, he brushed his lips against hers, the fleeting tender embrace heralding the beginning of her emotional avalanche. So much trauma, so much pain – fear, anger, grief – and she had submerged it all under her warrior’s mask of courage and determination. She had repressed her feelings because she had to, focused only on her mission. Get Isaac back. Now he was safely by her side, the tension and fear were ebbing away, but just as she had said to Rowan her emotion was too intense to leave unexpressed. It was threatening to emerge at any moment, burst through the gates she had constructed in her mind in order to save her husband. Her emotional gates were about to collapse under the weight of a devastating torrent of tears. But she must be strong, just a little longer… Bernard had appeared at the doorway, Jenna cradled in his arms. Rowan raced towards them as Jenna’s face broke into an enormous smile.

  “Jenna! My wife.”

  “Rowan.”

  Jenna’s voice cracked with emotion, burst with joy. Talia’s heart threatened to explode, crashing against her chest as Bernard gently handed Jenna over into Rowan’s waiting arms. Jenna clung to her husband’s neck and pressed her face against his, crying quietly as he whispered words of love. Jenna’s emotional gates had shattered, and her sweet reunion with her husband was more than Talia could bear.

  “Come, my angel. Let’s go to our hut,” Rowan murmured into his wife’s ear, his lips brushing against it as if it were the most precious thing on God’s earth. He lifted his head and looked to Isaac. “Your Majesty, my wife and I need a little time alone. Please have Talia tend to your wound and then maybe later we can talk again? I do hope you will be staying with us overnight, recover a little before you travel home.”

  It was the first time Rowan had used Isaac’s royal title. Talia drew in a long breath and held it.

  “Yes, I think that would be for the best, thank you. Please take your time, I need to rest and Talia will take good care of me.”

  Talia slowly exhaled as new life was breathed into Cornicunia, a land with a Lokian visionary queen. She was married to King Isaac, he no longer feared her people and they trusted him again. Rowan nodded at Isaac as he strode from the room, murmuring softly into Jenna’s hair.

  “Bernard, please tell the men we will be staying overnight, to set up camp and relax.”

  Isaac’s brave army of faithful soldiers… Their unswerving loyalty was more provocation for her emotional gates, which were buckling under the weight of her tumultuous feelings. But she must be strong for just a little longer…

  “Right away, Your Majesty.”

  Her head felt hot and dizzy, consumed with sparkling stars, but she had to take care of Isaac, be strong…

  “Your Majesty, I will arrange to have food and water sent out to your soldiers immediately.” Clyde’s kindly eyes caressed Isaac’s with their customary warmth. Her beloved guru had silently listened to all that had been said and approved of her choice of husband.

  “Thank you, that is much appreciated. Let the men know sustenance is on its way, Bernard!”

  Bernard grinned and nodded his thanks to Clyde as he strode off on his mission. The room danced around her in a most disconcerting fashion, waltzing and veering into tango, but she had to stay strong, just a little longer…

  “We will go to my hut, husband, and you can rest while I attend to your wound.”

  She smiled and took his hand, willing her feeble body to stop shaking. Her emotional gates were straining violently, unable to withstand the storm. Her soul was battered and bruised, it needed rest, replenishment. She breathed deeply as they plodded along the meandering passageways; it was all Isaac could do to put one foot in front of the other. Abraham wrapped his arm around his friend’s waist and Isaac silently accepted his help. Her brave king was exhausted and in pain, and she was desperately worried. Abraham cleverly tried to distract her by asking questions about the paintings on the walls, and she told him a little about the Lokians depicted, their names, personalities and spiritual gifts. Isaac said little, clinging to her hand while he clamped his other hand resolutely against his head, pressing the bloodstained cloth against his wound. As she opened the door to her hut, he breathed in sharply, transfixed by the thick trunk of the elm tree in the corner beside her bed. He raised his eyes to the roof where the branches burst proudly out into the sky above.

  “We believe humankind should leave nature untouched to live as it was created to live.”

  Isaac slowly turned his head to meet her eyes with his, the spectacular something burning brighter than ever. “Your home is enchanting, Wanwisa. Every magical word that exists in this world could not describe it adequately. But this causes me pain,” he nodded towards her beloved tree, “it makes me see how cruel I was to keep you inside when you first arrived at the palace. Nature is such an integral part of your life.”

  She smiled, stroking her fingertips over his cheekbone. “As necessary as air, my love, I can barely breathe without it. It is part of the structure of my body, the very essence of my soul. It is who I am.”

  As the three of them entered her hut, Isaac’s eyes flickered over her former life. There was so very little for him to see: a narrow bed, hand-woven curtains at the windows, her battered wooden dressing table… her simple, spiritual life as a Lokian visionary. That life was over – and a glorious new one had begun. She had moved from a life of uncomplicated simplicity and spiritual contemplation to one of hitherto unimagined luxury with the king she had been destined to love. This miraculous transformation had happened in a few short days and just as quickly she had almost lost it all. Lost Isaac. She stood just inside the door and wailed loudly, a sound of agony and disbelief, as her emotional gates burst open and her feelings were violently unleashed.

  “Wanwisa, my precious wife.”

  Isaac said no more. He simply pulled her
into his arms and held her close to his chest while she wailed and cried and mumbled incoherently. Isaac understood there were no words for this. He didn’t tell her to hush or stop crying, he didn’t tell her their suffering was over and everything was fine. He understood. The horror and trauma she had endured needed an expression, the human soul could not contain such things forever, they had to be released. Abraham stood quietly at the door, a calm, understanding presence. His king’s new wife had experienced a lifetime and beyond in a few short days and it was just too much for her to bear.

  “I’m sorry… they’ve opened… and I can’t close them,” she wailed regretfully into Isaac’s bloodstained hair. His wound needed urgent attention but she was useless, desperately trying to regain control of her riotous emotions and failing dismally.

  “What’s opened, Wanwisa?”

  He held her away from him, and she stared into the wet eyes that mirrored her own.

  “My emotional gates.” She shook her head sadly as she wiped the tears from his cheeks.

  “Emotional gates?”

  “My mind is not capable of processing everything that has happened… the changes in my life, losing my home… finding you, losing you… So much intensity, so much love… and today was so terrible… I nearly lost you, Isaac!”

  She pressed her head into his chest, moaning pitifully, and he tightened his arm around her so it was holding her like a vice, squeezing the breath from her body. He wrapped her hair around his other hand and pulled, tugging painfully at the roots. It was strangely comforting, calming her instantly. Isaac held her firmly in his grasp, her strong, invincible husband would never let her go. She was safe now.

  “I understand, Talia. You have been so brave, so strong, but everything you know has been ripped away from you. This is your home, and I will never deny you its comfort and love. I will do everything I can to forge a close relationship with your people so the two of us can visit whenever you desire.”

  He understood more than she could ever have dreamed possible. She whimpered gratefully into his chest, overwhelmed by her blessings. She did not have to forsake her people to be with Isaac, he would fight to attain harmony with them – and so would she.

  “You are so very brave, my hero,” he murmured as he tugged at her hair again. She relaxed into his body, safe in her surrender to the man she loved. Her scalp hurt and her breasts were crushed against his chest, but the pain was pleasurable and reassuring, cocooning her in security and warmth.

  And in that moment she understood the true nature of the cage.

  The cage?

  Why was she thinking about that? Especially now?

  Domination, subjugation and control – or protection, security and trust?

  She blinked up into Isaac’s sky blue eyes. They were hard and dominant, but the spectacular something was incandescent. Isaac knew exactly what he was doing. Taking control and reassuring her with his physical strength. Her all-powerful king would protect her and their love until the end of time.

  Bonded for all time.

  “You are my hero, my wise husband, my angel masquerading as a demon.”

  She sniffled loudly as a new awareness entered her soul and became part of her. It was a revelation she would not forget.

  Isaac’s physical domination made her feel safe.

  The cage.

  “You are too modest, my little visionary, you saved me, saved our love. You’re the hero, not me.”

  “Oh, you don’t know the best of it, Isaac, this little one was possessed – she terrified us all. All she cared about was rescuing you, she wouldn’t listen to anyone. We just did as we were told, were too scared not to.”

  She peered tearfully across at Abraham as Isaac roared with laughter. “I’m sure you were! She didn’t threaten you with any fruit knives, did she?”

  She joined in with their laughter with her own, faintly hysterical, giggles, as a liberating feeling of relief washed over her.

  “Talia was incredible, Isaac, she knew exactly what needed to be done and organised us all. She was desperate to get you back for some unfathomable reason! Now – let your courageous and multi-talented wife tend to your wound.”

  Abraham had effortlessly taken command of this overemotional situation, and he was right. Isaac had waited far too long to have his head stitched. She stared sadly up at him as she led him over to her bed and pulled him down beside her.

  “I have slept here since my mother died when I was fifteen summers. It is not as grand as the bed we share at the palace but it is comfortable.”

  Isaac grinned playfully. “Would you like to put it to good use, Wanwisa?”

  “Not in front of me. Good God!” Abraham shook his head good-naturedly as he sat beside Isaac. “Anyway, Your Majesty, there are more pressing matters for you to concern yourself with.”

  It was her cue to begin. She fetched her medical box from the tiny cupboard in the corner, and Isaac watched her with bemused eyes as she threaded a needle with flax suture. He shook his head.

  “Wanwisa, your wonders never fail to astound me. How often have you done this before?”

  She examined his eyes thoughtfully. “Many times, Your Majesty, you do not need to worry, I will take good care of you. Sadly accidents are plentiful when living deep within the forest and I have also gained much practice by treating injured animals over the years. Rats are particularly accident-prone and are charming and extremely cooperative patients. Stitching your wound will be much easier than stitching theirs as you are so much larger.”

  She raised her eyebrows, and Isaac chuckled, his eyes sparkling with delight. “Are you comparing your royal husband to a rat, Wanwisa? I think you are taking far too much pleasure in my predicament.”

  “I am taking care of my beloved husband and that is my favourite thing to do. At last I can nurture you as you have nurtured me. I promise I will do everything in my power to make this a painless experience.”

  He squeezed her hand, his eyes softening. “I have no fear, Talia, I trust you – and I promise to be brave.”

  She bit her lip as she rummaged in the box. “This ointment is made from forest herbs, Isaac, it will keep your wound free of infection and numb your senses for a while. Please bow your head for me.”

  He grinned suggestively as he did as asked, remarkably playful for a man with a head injury.

  “I need to trim this section of hair, Isaac. I’m afraid you’re going to be uneven for a while.”

  He peered up at her, his grin growing wider as she picked up her tiny scissors and began her sacred task. “I can bear anything while my wife is taking such tender care of me. It is almost worth suffering this wound to experience such delight.” She frowned as she concentrated on her task, and Isaac chuckled again. “I hope while you are stitching, you will entertain me with the tale of your rescue mission. I am intrigued as to how you managed to mobilise those useless great oafs of mine.”

  He was so playful, as if he were trying to distract her from pain when it should be the other way round. And she felt strangely shy, embarrassed even. She had done very little, apart from being incredibly bossy. She sighed.

  “I think I was rather annoying, Your Majesty, I’m sure Abraham will agree. I gave far too many orders and shouted too much.”

  Isaac raised an eyebrow. “Rather annoying, too many orders, shouted too much, hmm… how could I ever believe such a thing of my perfect visionary wife?”

  Abraham grinned as she finished snipping the offending section of Isaac’s hair away from his wound. She stared sadly at the thick black locks in her hand.

  “Please, Abraham, take care of this for me.”

  Abraham’s grin widened as he took Isaac’s hair from her. “You are going to keep it, Talia? You have the man himself.”

  “That’s right, friend, Talia has all of me, everything I am belongs to her.”

  Isaac was indulging her fancies, but clearly thought she had gone a little mad. Perhaps she had…

  “Your hair is
beautiful,” she whispered, checking Abraham was taking good care of her new treasure before applying the ointment to Isaac’s head. “Now, we will wait a minute for the numbing to take effect and then I will stitch the wound. It will heal well, there will barely be a scar.”

  She had never been squeamish about blood and even though the gash on her beloved’s head filled her with sadness, today was no different. She was a Lokian, her life given in order to assist other beings. It just happened that this being was the most precious on earth. She pulled Isaac’s scalp tightly together with her needle and suture, and her brave husband did not flinch. She had been generous with her application of the ointment but still… She glanced down into the spectacular something of his eyes, hypnotised by his serenity. “I will find a locket and put your hair inside of it so you are always close to my heart.”

  Abraham chuckled as Isaac stared up at her, his eyes brimming with love. “Talia is so sweet now, Isaac, yet a short time ago, she was terrifyingly ruthless. You would not have recognised your gentle, loving wife at all.”

  She scowled at Abraham’s teasing as she concentrated on stitching Isaac’s head as quickly and neatly as possible, determined this operation would be a work of art. “There was no time for sentiment or social niceties. I had to save Isaac’s manhood, get Isaac back,” she murmured distractedly, whispering the words she had repeated like a mantra throughout the long, torturous ride. Those three words had been the centre of her universe.

  “Oh, yes.” Abraham nodded as he examined her handiwork on Isaac’s precious head. “Talia was planning to hack each and every one of her people into tiny pieces if you weren’t intact when we found you. She would have done it as well.”

  “I would,” she said softly, “I would do anything for my Isaac.”

  “Oh, Talia,” Isaac whispered as she snipped off the end of the magical thread holding his wound together. It would heal well and any faint scar would soon be covered by the new growth of his thick black hair.

  “Excellent, well done, Talia, I am most impressed by your medical skills, and more importantly you managed to distract our king from his pain.”