23
Lost and Found
Tyne would not hear of them leaving. He also did not want to give up his chance to earn money from Themesius.
‘One more show,’ he begged. ‘We’ll leave this morning and go straight to Brittelbury. We can hold the show there tomorrow night.’
It was tempting.
‘But what about your other shows?’ Gidyon asked.
‘Of no matter. I’ll make enough with this one if I promote it along the way. Now make haste. We travel in one hour.’
He left them no chance to change his mind.
Themesius scratched his head. ‘Better this way don’t you think, Figgis?’
‘I do. Keeps us out of harm’s way as well. The lad has a happy knack of getting into bother,’ he said and they laughed at Gidyon’s scowl.
Tyne was as good as his word and within the hour, the first of the caravans drew out of the town and headed west towards Brittelbury.
‘What do you do in the show?’ Gidyon wondered to Themesius.
‘I just walk out…and everyone’s jaws drop open.’
Figgis enjoyed this, chuckling to himself. ‘A showstopper, eh? Well, perhaps Gidyon and I can make a special contribution. What do you think?’ he said.
‘I have an idea already,’ Gidyon said, not offering to reveal anything further.
On their journey, and particularly as they began to pass through outlying villages from Brittelbury, Tyne made regular stops, calling into inns and promoting the Greatest Show in the Land as he liked to call it. At each stop the performers were encouraged to remain hidden so none of the secrets were revealed.
‘If people want to see our freaks, they’ll have to pay.’ It was his favourite saying.
As it turned out Brittelbury was a decent-sized town. No wonder Tyne felt he could risk missing his other planned stops as long as he could show off his star attraction here. People waved and welcomed them in and once again the ‘freaks’ hid themselves. Tyne posted hired guards around the perimeter of the Green where they would perform in order to prevent snoopers from getting an early look at the acts.
‘Figgis, you’ll have to remain here,’ Gidyon suggested. ‘You’re too much like one of the attractions to go walking about the town and risk Tyne’s despair.’
The Paladin nodded. ‘You may be right. How will you find her?’
‘I’m not sure. Start asking questions, I suppose.’
‘What about tonight?’
‘I’ll be back in time, I promise.’
‘Straight back,’ Figgis cautioned with a stern face.
Gidyon ticked off his tasks. ‘Get my stone, kiss the girl, back to the freak show.’
‘Good lad,’ Themesius said, his huge laugh bellowing. ‘Are you going to tell us how we shall entertain the masses tonight?’
A smile broke across Gidyon’s face. ‘A balancing act like no one has ever seen before,’ he said, tapping his nose knowingly. ‘No need to practise, leave it all to me. Oh, and Themesius, ask Tyne if we can borrow the Fat Lady.’
‘Whatever for?’
‘You’ll see,’ he said and opened the tent flap, emerging into the sharp sunlight.
He squinted. Where should he head first? Gidyon decided to walk and see where he found himself. Brittelbury was larger than he expected and so he guessed it was unlikely Yseul would be found wandering about in the town unless she had work here. He headed towards the first inn, gingerly sipping on a watered ale for a while and getting a feel for the place. It was clearly a busy and thriving town; there was a rough quality to it which he presumed came from living in such an unforgiving region with the Rork’yel Mountains looming in the distance. Back out in the main street, people went about their business with little interest in strangers, who seemed an integral part of the transient nature of this town. People obviously used it as a last watering hole before heading west across mainly uninhabited countryside towards Ildagarth or perhaps further north still into Kyrakavia.
To make one’s way west from here meant either moving directly through the northern finger of the Great Forest, or, as most people chose to do, taking the long way around it and skimming the lowest reaches of the mountain range, on a long and often cheerless journey.
Gidyon felt empty. He had not eaten since the previous sundown and whatever he had consumed had been returned at dawn. Now his belly roared its hunger and he went in search of food. He walked towards the marketplace where he could see all sorts of wares on sale with people calling out their prices and attesting to the quality. It was a lively, colourful place and it seemed so normal…something very lacking in his life. His nose picked up the smell of meat roasting and he turned to see an eating house where rows of tables and chairs were set up outside under a makeshift awning of canvas. It was still quite early in the day and yet this place was doing a brisk business. He squeezed into a corner table, trying to tuck his very long legs away from the traffic of the serving women and waited. Soon enough a woman stopped and asked him what he would like.
‘There’s chickens coming out of the oven now,’ she suggested.
He nodded. ‘Perfect. Bread?’
‘Of course. Can I bring you an ale?’
‘Er…no thanks. Milk, please.’
She looked at him sideways. ‘Milk?’
The smell of the ale at the inn convinced him he had consumed enough for a lifetime…or so he thought at that moment. ‘Please,’ he said, trying to ignore the smirk which had appeared on her face.
‘Don’t get much call for milk here. I’ll see what I can do,’ she said.
He leaned back, arms behind his head and looked about him. The tables were now all taken, predominantly with men; once they had ordered their jugs of ale, he noticed they all got quickly involved in a rowdy game. It seemed to be a combination of dice and cards. He watched with such interest, he hardly noticed when his meal was set before him.
‘We milked old Betsy out the back for you,’ the woman serving said as she placed it on the table. If she was expecting a response from Gidyon, her barb failed to hit its target because he was intent on watching a particularly boisterous game in front of him.
‘Oh…er thanks,’ he said. He was devilishly handsome but no fun at all, she thought.
Gidyon caught her arm. ‘Sorry, can you tell me what they’re playing?’
‘Light! Where do you hail from, stranger?’
He shrugged. ‘A monastery.’ He said the first thing that came into his head but had no idea how close to the truth it was.
‘That figures,’ she said, hand on hip. ‘Explains the milk. They play Hari. This is a Hari House but I guess you didn’t know that. Mark my words—don’t get involved. For the inexperienced, you’ll lose everything you own including the boots on your feet.’
‘They aren’t worth much,’ he admitted, turning on his best smile.
She could not help but return it and he was saved from further conversation by someone calling her. ‘I’m coming,’ she yelled. ‘If you find yourself alone later, come by.’
He sipped his milk, deliberately ensuring he had a ring of it around his lips. She left, a look of distaste at the edges of her mouth. That got rid of you, he thought, enjoying the taste of the warm chicken. He dipped the bread into the bird’s roasting juices and concentrated hard on the game of Hari which was being replicated at various tables around him. It was a fast and furious game, and not only the participants bet on the outcome. The tables were attracting other betting folk. He had no idea of the rules but he began to understand the rhythm of the game and quickly worked out who was cheating. It was the man at the end of the table. He had a bright smile and played with the casual air of someone who really was not paying attention. He joked and chatted with those around him and always seemed to be lagging in playing his next card or rolling the die. By the time Gidyon had finished his meal, cleaned up the juices and drained his milk, he essentially understood that Hari was not so much a game of chance as one of bluff. If you could cheat, as the man at the end was doing, that increased the opportunity of winnings tenfold. He did it by having a partner in the audience, perhaps several even, who used some sort of signal to indicate which cards were moving where in the rapid game. Gidyon hated dishonesty but he was impressed at how well the man did it.
The player was as cunning as he was crooked. He did not down his cards every round with a winning hand. His wins were small and subtle. Gidyon noticed also that as the sun rose higher and the day got warmer, the players drank more, as did the audience. The consumption of liquor was great for business and also for the cheat who did not have to be so careful any more. For every jar of ale each of his companion players consumed, he sipped perhaps half a cup. Although the man pretended to be intoxicated, his eyes were sharp.
Just when Gidyon thought he had the cheat completely worked out, the man lost everything he had won in a single round. Gidyon was shocked. All that effort wasted. They slapped him on the back and made jokes about his terrible calls and his shocking rolls of the die. It all became clear in the next moment as the now very merry players decided to have one last round for the highest possible stakes. All the other tables stopped to watch this particular round by the big spenders. The stake required to play was high…too rich for one player; they began to ask around for anyone who cared to take his place.
Gidyon stuck his hand in the air. ‘Ho! I will,’ he said, and gave them a crooked grin as though he was a bit slow.
A roar of approval followed. He was quickly welcomed to a place around the table.
‘Your purse?’ someone asked.
Gidyon dropped a pouch of heavy coins onto the table. Then he produced a second with a rather sheepish grin and then a loud belch for good measure. He yawned. The cheat smiled at him. This one was no threat.
‘I’m meant to go to market today,’ Gidyon admitted to the bearded fellow next to him, ‘but I’m feeling lucky, perhaps I can impress father by coming home with a bulging purse.’
It was the cheat’s turn to deal. So well-planned, Gidyon thought.
‘Er, wait,’ he said, holding up proceedings. ‘I don’t know the rules.’
It did not silence the now gathered mob but it might as well have. People looked at him aghast.
‘I’m from a monastery.’ He shrugged an apology.
‘But you spoke about your family…your father and the heavy purse?’ his neighbour queried.
‘Oh I see. I meant the Abbott, we call him Father.’
Men cleared throats and grumbled around him.
‘All right, lad,’ the cheat said. ‘No harm done and his money’s already in so we can’t let him go now.’
Gidyon smiled inwardly. He knew the cheat would not be able to bear the thought of losing out on the pile of coins clinking in the pouch.
‘I’m a f-f-fast learner,’ he said, enjoying his embellishment of the stutter.
People around him shook their heads and suddenly felt sorry for him. There was no way the lad was leaving this table with money in his pocket. Others just laughed and Gidyon joined them; he really did appear a simpleton.
It was the cheat who once again claimed order. In a quiet voice, he explained the basic rules.
Gidyon nodded. ‘R-righto, I have it,’ he said, before the man had taken a breath following his explanation.
‘There are subtleties,’ the cheat cautioned and looked as though he was about to explain some of those as well when Gidyon put his hand in the air.
‘Don’t worry, I’m feeling very l-lucky today. S-s-say no more.’ He yawned again.
The cheat smiled. ‘Is everyone ready now?’
Grunts of agreement were heard and furious betting from the onlookers commenced. The cheat dealt. Gidyon picked up his hand of seven cards knowing the task ahead was to achieve the highest scoring pack; the maximum of which was three suns and four dragons. That was hardly ever achieved of course and instead combinations of suns, moons, stars, dragons, gryphons, winged horses and various wild cards could make the winning hand. Gidyon wanted the three plus four combination of the sun and dragon. At present he had one sun, a moon, two stars, two dragons and a jewel. It was not a bad hand and he wondered if the cheat had contrived to give him a sense of early security. Everyone laughed at the way he peeped at his cards and then held them tightly to his chest.
Gidyon summoned his Colours and pushed as he opened up his cards to look at them in a more regular way. He immediately heard grumbling behind him and he also noticed the cheat rubbing at his eyes. Gidyon wondered how blurry the cards looked to the cheat and knew the poor chap behind would not be able to see a thing.
The round began. The cheat rolled the die blinking several times and got a three which meant three cards had to be exchanged from each hand to their left, whether the other players wanted to or not. And so it went. Gidyon had worked out that the cheat not only knew what was coming his way but what others were receiving and even how their hands were shaping up. Not at the moment, though. All of his carefully placed helpers were rubbing their eyes and finding it difficult to make out the cards they were spying on.
‘Hold,’ the cheat said. ‘I have something in my eye.’ He stood and rubbed hard, even dousing his shirttail with ale and cleaning his eyes.
Gidyon smiled. This was going to be fun, he thought, as he rolled the die and it landed on precisely the number he wanted. Another push and everyone around the table exchanged two cards in the way he wished.
It would not take long.
Later, whistling to himself and strolling through the market, Gidyon put all of his senses on alert. His purse was now three maybe four times as heavy as it had been when he set off from the caravans and he knew he had made some enemies this day. He would need to be watchful. It was past noon and Gidyon had wasted many of his precious hours at the Hari House. Still, he would give undivided attention now to finding Yseul. He began to stroll amongst the rows of market stalls hoping to engage someone in conversation and start asking questions. Gidyon did not think the cheat and his friends would catch up with him as fast as they did but he was not surprised to see the familiar face with the keen eyes waiting for him at the end of one row. He turned and saw men he remembered from around the Hari table, blocking the other end. There was no easy escape route and so he summoned his Colours, keeping them ready for his call. He strolled casually up towards the cheat and nodded.
‘We have a problem,’ the cheat said.
‘I guessed you may,’ Gidyon replied.
The man jabbed him in the chest. ‘You have money of ours.’
He smiled quizzically. ‘I thought I’d won it.’
‘Yes but we’ve changed our minds. We want it back.’
‘Ah, well now I see you’re right—we do have a problem.’
‘I see your stammer’s gone,’ the man said as he suddenly realised he was no longer talking with a simpleton.
Gidyon grinned. ‘It always works…regularly fools people.’
‘And now I think of it, the closest monastery is a five day ride from here.’
‘Correct again. What can I say?’ Gidyon said, throwing up his hands in mock capitulation.
The man nodded in appreciation of the young man’s arrogance. ‘Shall we ask my friends what they’d like to do about this?’
‘Why? We both know you cheated and we both know I cheated. Whoever you ask, I’ll still come up with the same reply. The money’s mine.’
‘I’m intrigued,’ the cheat said, chancing a look around Gidyon’s body because he was not tall enough to see above his shoulder. He saw that his friends approached slowly. ‘How did you dupe us all on your own?’
‘An ancient skill. I can’t show you, I’m afraid, or the guild of cheats will take me off its list of members.’ He gave his most amused grin.
‘Light! You’re a cocky bastard,’ the cheat said, suddenly losing his calm. ‘I can’t wait to pound your arrogant, handsome face to a pulp.’
‘Charming,’ said a voice Gidyon knew well.
‘Yseul!’
‘I knew it was you,’ she said, throwing a look of disdain towards the cheat.
‘Where were you? I’ve been looking for you?’
She snorted. ‘Hardly. If you’ve got this man chasing you it means you’ve wasted the day playing Hari. What are you doing back here, Belcher? I thought the Mayor told you and your lads to stay away from Brittelbury?’
‘We have,’ he answered indignantly. ‘It’s been two summers since we were last here.’
‘Well, that’s not long enough,’ she said calmly. ‘Take them and go or I’ll get the town guard onto you.’
He shot a look of hate towards Gidyon and glowered at Yseul. ‘I mean to get my money back, you whore.’
‘Not only charming but polite as always, Belcher. Leave or I will call them. I’ve seen this man fight,’ she said, pointing to Gidyon. ‘He’ll take six of you on and hold you off until I’m back with the guards.’
Belcher’s eyes narrowed as he considered his next move. He chose to back off and with a gesture called off his henchmen behind them. Gidyon and Yseul watched them leave.
‘I’m not sure you’ve seen the end of them,’ she murmured. ‘They turn up from time to time—I think they work the whole realm.’
‘You’re amazing.’
‘And you’re lucky I came along.’
He shrugged. ‘I had it all under control.’
She laughed. ‘Yes, I don’t doubt you did, knowing what you’re capable of.’ Both of them suddenly felt shy. Yseul filled the uncomfortable moment. ‘Er…look why don’t you come over to where I have my stall and we can talk?’
‘You have a stall?’
‘Yes. My parents are the chandlers for the town. We’re all involved…even Gwerys.’
‘How is he?’
‘Oh, he’s fine.’
They walked together and Gidyon chanced taking her arm. She did not break step and he was pleased to have the physical contact, furious with himself for not kissing her hello and hating Belcher for spoiling their reunion. Now he would have to work towards a reason to kiss her again or Themesius would be disappointed.
‘So he’s over the trauma?’
Her smile faded. ‘I’m not sure really. He seems happy enough and it’s wonderful for him to be home again with the family but he still has nightmares and shakes uncontrollably. I do my best to be there for him.’ She shrugged.
It was instinctive. Gidyon moved his arm and gently draped it over her shoulder to pull her closer. ‘He’s a lucky boy to have you for his sister.’
‘Oh, he’s got four of us—all love him madly. I just have a special bond with him after all that we went through.’ She pointed to a neat stall with a striped awning. ‘Here we are.’
‘How clever your family is,’ Gidyon said, picking up candles and turning them around to marvel at the perfectly smooth and shiny wax.
‘My father’s family has done it for several generations. I think the knowledge just runs in our blood now.’
She laughed. ‘No. We would only make a pittance if we did. Father takes them all around the Kingdom. Sells them to the monasteries and convents mainly. We make very special ones for the royal households and even more decorative candles for the crown ceremonies and events. We recently had to deliver a merry pile for the coronation. Did you hear about all the honoured guests…even the Cipreans sent a delegation.’
‘So I heard,’ Gidyon replied.
Yseul picked up a plain, creamy candle. ‘These here are just for local use in households. My youngest sister normally runs this stall but everyone’s sick in our family at the moment except me, my brother and my father who is away again.’
‘Oh.’ He did not know what else to say. They smiled and then their faces became more serious.
Yseul took a breath and put on a bright voice. ‘So, you’ve come.’
‘As promised,’ he said and did a short bow.
‘For the stone.’ It was not a question.
Gidyon looked towards his feet and then back into her strangely light-coloured eyes. He nodded.
‘Of course you did.’ She attempted a brave smile. ‘I don’t have it here, Gidyon. Perhaps I could bring it to you?’
He shrugged. ‘Yes.’ Then, feeling stupid, he added, ‘Are you busy this evening?’
‘Busy? Um…no, the usual things.’
‘That’s right, your family, I forgot,’ he said, wanting to rip his own tongue out for the clumsy way he was handling this.
‘No, they’ll be all right. What were you thinking of?’ He noticed she seemed just as anxious as he was.
‘Oh, it’s just that, I’m here with some friends.’
‘That’s nice,’ she said, nodding, not sure what he meant by this.
‘We’re in the Greatest Show in the Land.’
‘You’re in what? Oh…you mean the Freak Show…at the Green?’
He grinned. ‘Apparently I’m so handsome, it’s freakish.’
And he won the big laugh he wanted to hear from her. ‘Is that so?’
‘But tonight, my friends and I shall be performing a rather incredible balancing act. I thought you might like to come along, bring the stone…bring Gwerys.’
‘You mean it?’
‘Yes, I would love you to join us.’
‘Is Figgis with you? I should like to see him again.’
‘He is. And a new friend, Themesius. He’s a giant. Gwerys’s eyes will fall out of his head when he sees him.’
She burst out laughing again. ‘You jest.’
He shook his head with a knowing look. ‘Promise me you’ll come.’
‘All right. I’ll bring Gwerys…and the stone.’
‘Good. Tonight, then,’ he said, putting down the candles he had been holding during their conversation.
Her pale eyes were shining and she looked so pretty and happy to see him, he could not help himself. Gidyon leaned down and kissed her. Yseul did not allow him to get away with a peck and flung her arms around him. When he pulled away from her embrace he felt breathless.
‘I’m so glad you came,’ she said.
‘I can tell,’ he said and with a final affectionate grin, he left.
On his way back to the caravans, a lightness to his step and a sense of joy in his heart, he opened a Link to his father. I shall have the stone returned tonight.
Good work, son. No trouble?
None. How about you?
Oh, you know, the usual trials…prisoner escaped, your mother and Saxon each shot with an arrow, Cloot’s tracking the attackers…everyday problems.
Gidyon paused, trying to work out if his father was just larking. This is a jest?
His father sounded suddenly tired. No, son. It’s my way of remaining calm. I have just removed the arrowheads from your mother and Saxon. They’re both sleeping now…and healing. I’m sitting here alone and wondering what in the Light will happen next.
Are you all right?
Yes, yes, I’m fine. I’m worried enough about your sister and now this. The arrow was surely meant for me. They were such bad shots.
How bad are the wounds?
They’ll both recover but they’re going to ache for days which will slow us up. I’m hoping the fevers will pass through them swiftly if they have to face them at all.
And Goth?
As soon as they make it through this night, I’m going after him.
Alone?
Cloot and I.
Right, so we’ll start backtracking towards you, then. You’re going to need help.
Head east as fast as you can, son.
We’ll leave tonight after the show.
Show?
A tale too long in the telling.
Fair enough. Get to your mother and Saxon. They’re going to be fairly helpless for a day or two.
The Link snapped shut and Gidyon’s high spirits came crashing back to the dusty road on which he walked.
Night fell and whilst Alyssa and Saxon shivered through the first touch of fever and Tor banked up the fire and watched them closely, Cloot stole ever closer to the group of men which included Goth. He was in obvious pain but the falcon had to admire the man’s strength. He talked through it, telling these men how rich and landed he was. It was obvious they did not recognise him. But then why should they? No longer instantly recognisable as the former chief inquisitor, the men accepted his twitching, tortured face without familiarity.
Cloot listened carefully for any information he could pass back to Tor.
‘Where are you men from?’ Goth asked, edging closer to their fire.
The one who seemed to be the leader grimaced. ‘Nowhere. Sailors originally,’ he said.
‘I’m surprised to see you in this Forest—and such a lonely part of it.’
‘What’s it to you?’
‘Nothing more than curiosity. Most Tallinese are frightened of the Great Forest.’
‘Not us. And not you, it seems.’
‘True,’ Goth said, lying. He had every reason to be afraid of the enchanted wood. He guessed they were men who had good reason to flee to deserted regions…even those considered dangerous. He changed the subject. ‘Where are you headed?’
‘Northwest. Caradoon.’
‘Ah. I know the place well.’
They looked at him carefully now.
‘It’s not a place for gentlemen,’ one replied.
‘I didn’t ever say I was one. I’m simply a rich man.’ Goth laughed mysteriously.
The sailors could tell he was a man with secrets and dark ways. They joined him laughing.
The leader pointed. ‘Then we are glad to have helped you—as you begged. But mind my words. If I don’t see your promised coin soon, I shall slit your throat as easy as a lamb at slaughter.’
Goth nodded. ‘I understand. You have my word. At Caradoon, I shall reward each of you highly for taking me away from those people. Trust me.’ He tried to grin but it never worked for him. ‘And whom might I be sharing this journey with?’
‘No names.’
‘Oh, my good fellow, you need not fear me. I am impressed enough with you both to offer you work. There is no need to find a ship to take your service…which is what I presume you are planning to do in Caradoon. I will pay you handsomely to act as bodyguards.’
The men looked at each other, sizing up the offer.
‘It’s been a while since we were at sea, Nord.’
‘Ah, Nord,’ Goth said. ‘I am delighted to make your acquaintance and thank you for rescuing me from those people. Let me thank you properly by paying you a sizeable and regular fee for your protection services.’
‘Starting when?’ the huge former sailor said through slitted eyes.
‘Right now. You don’t think they will not give chase. I’ve already warned you about the bird.’
Nord snorted. ‘I’m not scared of a bird…and your talk of magic don’t scare me either.’
Goth nodded. ‘Still, show caution. Do you accept?’
The sailor glanced at his men who nodded enthusiastically. ‘Well, if I’m to share my name, I’ll know yours too.’
‘But you already do, my friend. I am Almyd Goth, former chief inquisitor of Tallinor and now outlaw in this Kingdom. However, I have since become the close and trusted adviser of the Ciprean monarch and I am here on secret business for my royal.’
Goth was the only one amongst them who was impressed by this speech.
‘Money alone talks, Goth,’ Nord replied.
‘And it will talk heartily to you, my friend.’ He held out his hand to shake on the deal with a questioning look on his face.
The man took his hand. ‘The name’s Nord Jesper.’
Cloot reported back all that he had learned, and wished he and Tor were together.
Why does that name ring a bell?
One of the sailors on The Wasp? Cloot prompted.
No. But it’s so familiar. I shall have to think on it.
How are Alyssa and Saxon?
Sleeping, intermittently shivering and then come the sweats. It’s for the best. At least I know their bodies are fighting back.
Any plan?
Tor laughed. You always hate my plans!
True, the falcon said sagely, but I also always go along with them.
I’ve spoken with Gidyon and he says he will have the stone shortly. He, Figgis and Themesius are leaving tonight, headed back east towards us. I’m hoping he can reach Alyssa and Saxon in the next two days.
So it’s safe to leave them alone?
I’d prefer not to but they have each other and we all have the Link. I will not let Goth get away again. What about you?
Fine. Cold. Wishing for my Forest.
Have you eaten?
No!
Grumpy, then?
Very. They’re all drifting off to sleep now. I don’t think we’ll hear much from them until just before dawn.
Good. Go hunt.
Tor felt the Link close and stared into the flames. The name of Nord Jesper continued to niggle at him but experience told him to let it alone and it would come back to him of its own accord. He checked his patients. Both were now sleeping soundly after their latest cup of his special brew, which he kept simmering gently over the fire. Good, the rest now would do all the healing.
He sat back and thought about Orlac. His brother. The moment Alyssa uttered her thoughts, he knew it was true. So he too was a prince of the gods and had been sacrificed to Tallinor in order to murder his brother…and now Dorgryl, who lived within Orlac. He shook his head; he had not shared this information with Alyssa. She was already suffering shock from the discovery of him being alive and the children’s sudden arrival in her life, as well as despair at the death of Lorys. Yet still she moved forward doggedly, determined to see through her part in all of this. Learning of Lauryn’s capture had been another blow, making her more fearful than Tor had ever seen her. To top that with the news that Orlac had been possessed by another god, one even madder and more vengeful, could break Alyssa’s battered spirit. No, it was best that he withheld this information, whatever the consequences.
And what of the Trinity? Were they up to this new and terrifying challenge? How would they know what to do? Most importantly of all…what was their purpose? He turned these questions over and over in his tired mind, finally deciding that he should not look too far ahead. Deal with the immediate problem, he told himself. Follow the plan. Finish Goth. Then back to the Heartwood to finish Orlac.
His mind turned to Goth. How he hated the man. How many lives had been lost through him? And inevitably his thoughts fell sorrowfully upon Eryn and the permanent mental picture he carried of the lovely young woman hung upside down and left to die in such a barbaric way. Even Orlac had more capacity to kill humanely, he thought. In a way he was glad Quist had died too for he felt sure the man’s life would have been ruined anyway without his great love. He hoped the pirate never learned of Eryn’s death but it was unlikely Goth would not have taken the opportunity to torture Quist with the gory details before killing him.
Tor thought about Eryn’s brief, sad life. She seemed to have lived it to the fullest and yet he had sensed a grief in her at their last two meetings. At a superficial level it was her ongoing disappointment that she and Tor might never be more than hidden lovers, great friends. But he decided it had been more than that. Eryn had not recovered from the death of Petyr. He knew she prided herself on having taken care of her brothers, ferociously protecting and raising them from tiny lads when she herself was hardly more than a slip of a girl. But it was Petyr who had broken her heart, he knew. Finding him dead as she had, unable to reach or help him, had scarred her permanently.
It made Tor angry. And then it hit him. Nord Jesper!
Nord Jesper! he cried, slashing open the Link and alarming Cloot who was feasting.
Yes, that’s his name, the falcon said calmly.
Cloot, that’s the name of the sailor who beat Eryn’s brother, Petyr, leaving him half-dead. Petyr never recovered, ran away from Eryn and Locky and ended up in a stracca den in Caradoon. She found him there, dead. She was just hours too late. Tor’s voice broke on his last words.
All right, Tor. I hear you. You’ll have your revenge, I promise. They still sleep. They’re going nowhere.
I’ll avenge Petyr for Eryn. It’s what she wanted.
Get some rest, Cloot cautioned. We’ll talk in the morning when you can think clearly.
More wise words from his friend. Tor said a brief farewell and closed the Link.
He curled up next to Alyssa, careful not to disturb her, and tried not to think about Lauryn and her fear of Orlac. Instead he imagined Goth and Nord Jesper at his mercy.