The Tessellation Saga. Book Two. 'The One' (25 page)

‘Help’s the bow
to bend boy,’ he remembered his father saying as if it were
yesterday and he had watched as his father tied the wood over a
fire, steaming it gently for hours until it was dry and pliable.
Yes, it had been a good bow but the soldier knew that the centre of
the bow was becoming thin with age and use.

The excellent
find of the yard long piece of dry oak would make a wonderful
replacement. He held the wood up against the dawn sky attempting to
find the natural curve of its lines and congratulated himself again
as he realised just how fine the length was, not a sign of greyness
or cracking and completely free of knots, twists or whorls. Finding
the line the young soldier took his knife from his belt and began
to shave the wood carefully, allowing its natural curvature to
guide him. As he shaved, he heard the wind blowing gently through
the treetops and the birds beginning to sing their morning chorus,
he closed his eyes for a moment to allow the beauty of the forest
morning to ease his homesickness.

Resting his
head back against the bole of the tree, he felt warm and safe; he
inhaled the fresh clean air deeply and smelt the winter jasmine; he
smiled again remembering how much his mother liked the jasmine that
grew so abundantly around their front door at home. As he sat deep
in his thoughts and dreams he failed to notice the ivy around the
tree begin to grow, slowly, so slowly it moved around the young
soldier’s ankles. Like a thick blanket, it moved up his legs and
began to cover him as the piece of oak dropped from his fingers,
landing beside the fallen knife. The young soldier thought he
should get up but he was so comfortable and so sleepy.

‘Just a few
minutes more mama,’ he whispered and his heartbeat slowed and
finally stopped as the thick vines of white winter jasmine absorbed
him completely, taking back a life for the lives of the tiny but
not inconsequential hedgehog family that would never wake
again.

Gath, with his
eyes closed stared hard into the ether, around and behind him, he
could see and feel the lines of life, powerful earth magic
spreading out and flowing like vast rivers. Such power in this
place, no wonder I could never feel my son before, he thought as he
followed the spreading pulsating lines like veins carrying the
fluid of life throughout one huge body. Gath felt the giant orange
glow that was the burning building disrupting the symphony of
light, strange, he thought, that the fire should show, here in the
ether. He passed on, feeling Thurl sleeping near him and the power
of the jasmine as it enthralled the young soldier at the edge of
the forest. He found he could not read the forest itself, it was,
it seemed, to be barring him in some way so he tried harder sending
his soul deeper and deeper into the ether. The warm soil held him,
enticing and beguiling, he had never felt this way, so calm, so
peaceful. The forest before him seemed to be promising him more, he
wanted to see; he wanted to gain entry through the magical barrier
thrown up before him.

Thurl, sitting
away from the king atop a log snored loudly, his chin dropped onto
his chest making him gag and he awoke, yawning widely. He noticed
the sun was now high in the sky and wondered how long he had been
asleep, he had been having such a nice dream and he had felt so
warm. As he stood to stretch, he glanced over toward where his king
was still crouched upon the ground. To his horror Thurl noticed the
forest seemed to have grown, Gath seemed to be right on the edge
now whereas before he was sure the forest had been a few feet away,
quite a few feet away.

‘Sire,’ Thurl
called, as he attempted to step forward, his feet catching among
the strands of bright-variegated ivy, the yellows and whites in
amongst the dark green of the leaves giving an impression of a
living tapestry of colour. He fell to the ground and as he tried to
sit up, he noticed the ivy twist around his ankle on its own, a
shiver ran down his spine, he could no longer free his leg by
pulling, it seemed to Thurl as fast as he freed one leg the other
became ensnared. Afraid for his life and with Toby’s tales of the
forest horrors fresh in his mind he grabbed for his knife and
frantically began to cut himself loose, the sharp blade sliced
through the soft leaves and wiry vines easily and as he became
free, he called out to the king once more.

Gath still
deeply entranced by the power of the earth magic heard someone
call
, do they want me,
he thought absently,
no, I’ll stay
here
, his mind answered for him.

Unexpectedly,
rough hands were shaking him, pulling at him and someone was
shouting at him, calling his name. He dragged himself out of the
ether, opened his bleary eyes and tried to focus on the owner of
the voice as he attempted to lift his hands from the soft loamy
soil. Startled and suddenly wide-awake, he realised he could not
move his hands or his legs, the ivy seemed to have grown around him
holding him in its vice like grip. Gath began to sing but his
singsong mumbling had no effect, he could enter the magic quite
easily but could not use it, somehow he was unable to access it,
just as he was unable to access the power the forest so obviously
contained. Thurl was shouting, crying out, telling the king to pull
himself away, he was slicing the ivy fast and furiously with his
knife and slowly Gath’s hand was free and he was frightened as
never before.

‘Quickly man,
the knife...’ Gath demanded, holding his one free hand out for the
knife. The magic would not work for him but he knew what would.

As Thurl came
close to his king, his hands pulling at the vines surrounding his
king’s ankles, Gath plunged the knife into his neck. Hindered by
the handle of the knife Thurl could not turn his head, his blood
began pumping and in an abstract fashion he noticed the vines
around him turning a thick dark red and he saw the green and yellow
ivy as it slowly rose up to meet him. The colours began to merge
and gradually the world around him became dark as finally, he lay
still.

Gath began to
sing again, this time with a different note, a different song and
Thurl gurgled as he lay dying with his dark red blood pumping out
across the ivy surrounding the king. Gath stared in eerie
fascination as the plants began to shrink where the spelled blood
touched them, they shrivelled and died leaving the dark, blood
stained earth exposed, the living ivy shied away, as if the blood
were tainted somehow. The plants circled the spelled blood and the
drained body without touching it as they reached for Gath once
more, leaving the tainted earth and the body alone, like an island
in a green and yellow sea.

Still afraid,
Gath fell back, his hands behind him and crablike he scuttled away
from the encroaching ivy until he was far enough back to turn and
stand. He ran then, jumping the ditch and reaching his horse,
mounted fast. When he turned back to look, the ivy was retreating
toward the forest leaving Thurl’s body now empty of blood exposed
and alone. As he watched, the body began to move, with dread in his
heart Gath watched as the ground beneath the body undulated and
shifted, giving the corpse a semblance of life as it moved away
from the reaches of the forest and it’s magic. As it reached the
ditch, it stopped and Thurl gently rolled over the edge and down
where it became lost amidst the cold bracken and dead teasels. A
shower of blood soaked earth followed it down. The forest had
cleaned itself of the contaminating effects of Gath’s blood
magic.

Gath had no
thought for Thurl, whom he had killed to save his own life or of
the young trouper who had just disappeared. Their horses were gone
too;
they were on the wrong side of the ditch!
The thought
crowded his mind and his brain screamed for explanation.

‘Gideon.’ Gath
said aloud, ‘Gideon, Gideon…clever, clever little boy...,’ he said
as he turned his horse to walk away back toward the Village.

As Gath passed
the cottage of the legerdemain Sonal, he leant to one side of the
horse and threw up. The tension of the morning, almost losing his
life after so long and to a child and a child of his own loins, it
made him feel sick. He passed the tiny white cottage now glistening
clean and bright in the winter sunshine, no sign of the fire that
had ravaged it only hours ago. Gath scowled at the cottage as he
realised that while the fire had been fierce and the cloak had
seemed hot, the flames had not burnt him and there had been no
smoke.
I saw the fire in the ether,
Gath told himself again,
angry now he knew Gideon had somehow tricked him. Rising high in
his stirrups, he turned once more to face the forest, shaking his
fist.

‘Gideon, I will
get you yet, you are mine do you hear, mine...’ he shouted to the
tree-filled skyline, before pulling his horse’s reins roughly and
walking back toward the village.

Toby Hollins
watched anxiously as Gath re-entered the village and glanced at the
camp, he had prepared everything as instructed.

‘Toby, prepare
to move the camp again tomorrow, we head north.’ Gath dismounted
from his horse and threw the reins toward Toby, hesitating as he
moved up the short steps to the door. ‘See to the beast Toby and
find yourself a new uniform, I find I am in need of another
commanding officer.’ Surprised but delighted Toby answered with a
smile.

‘Thank you
sire, May I tell me men…,’ Toby hardened at the power the words
commanded ‘
my
men,’ he said again adding, ‘where in t’ north
we be ‘eading,’ he finished.

‘We head to the
Bleak Toby,’ Gath returned forcefully. ‘We head to the Bleak...’
now Gideon seems to have come fully into his power that is where
the power will draw him, he still needs to learn control I am
certain of it…
‘And I intend to be waiting!’ Gath finished his
thought aloud, adding, ‘to give him
all
that I am…,’ then
with a smile on his face, he walked up the steps. He had no doubts
Gideon’s was to be his next host body and with his power so
amplified opening a gateway would be all the easier. He reached the
top of the stairs and turned around, his glance light housing the
remains of the village that was now his camp. The dull white canvas
of the bell tents, the animals corralled in the distance and ready
to feed the army on its journey north, the sounds and smells of men
and their women followers going about the business of setting up a
new encampment amidst the ruins of the once thriving village. He
had seen it all before so many, many times over the years; over the
countless lives he had spent, whilst waiting to beget a daughter.
All this bored him now, he was ready to go home, to seek his
revenge, further off he could see the great forest where he had
almost lost his life and in the ether, he could see the magic that
he was somehow barred from using and unable to feel
. Look after
your body for me my son
, he thought,
and come after me soon,
I begin to grow impatient.

Taking one last
look at the distant forest, he turned back to the inn once more and
entered where a meal, a hot bath, a bed and Darnel were waiting for
him.

On and on the
small company walked, Gideon’s father had at first, recognised the
pathways the wolf took but before long even he had no idea
whereabouts in the great forest they actually were. Soon the trail
narrowed even more, talking, which had been difficult at first
because of the fast pace the wolf was setting now became impossible
as the group walked in single file, sometimes bending low in order
to pass overhanging trees. The trail they were following was an
animal track made by the wolf himself as he travelled between his
home and Jed’s cottage over the many years he had lived there.
Around lunchtime the wolf stopped in a small natural clearing, he
turned back to face in the direction they had travelled and twisted
his head to one side as if listening. Instinctively Varan and Sonal
reached for one another.

‘The danger for
the moment is past,’ Blue said before he turned and resumed his
journey.

‘Wait!’ called
Rhoàld, as the elder twins made to follow the wolf, ‘what did the
wolf say,’ he insisted, angry at the presumption that the rest of
the party did not need to know.

‘The danger is
past,’ Varan offered, apologising for not passing the message on
and turned once more to follow the wolf.

‘What did ‘e
say?’ Young Jed asked, entering the clearing last and as the wolf
was moving away, ‘What did yer say?’ He said again as Varan turned,
Varan repeated his statement.

‘Then we can go
back, May, we can go and rescue the fam’ly,’ the young man said
smiling broadly at his sister, Mayan and Gideon nodded their heads
in agreement.

Young Jed had
done a lot of thinking since the party had left Gideon’s home.
Forced to walk alone with no opportunity to talk his problems
through he had been his own prosecuting council. He felt drained
and completely exhausted. Over the last few months, he had had his
illusions of a soldier’s honour shattered by his king, had met
Lemba and fallen in love, had contracted severe pneumonia, been
stung to death by poisonous ants and then literally brought back
from the dead. He condemned himself bitterly for his attack on
Gideon and then for offering love and protection to his beloved
Lemba, only to abandon her, twice. In addition, he had left his
family in the hands of slavers with his elder brother Jackie broken
and bleeding and even after reuniting with Lemba he realised he had
not spent two minutes alone with her since leaving Devilly. No one
would tell him what was going on and here he was following blindly
after a talking wolf,
even iffen I ‘ave known Blue all me
life!
He thought.