The Tessellation Saga. Book Two. 'The One' (8 page)

‘Gid love,
iffen yer love us… please don’ urt ‘im, ‘e couldn’t take it, not
now, ‘e loves yer too much...,’ his grandmother pleaded, tears
trembling unshod in her eyes.

The kitchen
door opened and a chill breeze wafted across the room.

‘No Lad,’
interrupted his grandfather as he closed the door behind him and
walked into the bright kitchen.

‘We all love
yer too much,’ he said, as he threw his coat over a chair and
draped his arms around his grandson. ‘Proud I am of yer boy, an’
right proud yer bear me name,’ he added, holding him tightly, he
continued to hold his grandson as he felt the boy’s body shake with
emotion.

‘I love yer
both too,’ Gideon said and finally smiled through his tears ‘an’ I
hope I’ll always make yer proud,’ he added as his grandmother wiped
her face with the corner of her pinafore.

‘Drink yer tea
boy, then go find yer Da, e’ be walkin’ in the wood,’ she finished
as Gideon senior released his only surviving grandchild from his
embrace.

‘Ner lad, you
go find yer Da, an’ I’ll finish yer tea,’ his grandfather smiled as
the boy grabbed the discarded woodsman’s jacket and throwing it
over his shoulders walked out of the kitchen closing the door
behind him.

He found his
father sitting on the bench where he had teased Mayan on the
previous evening and he suddenly he felt guilty.
Mayan must ‘ave
‘eard Sonal’s magic too,
he thought, then his father looked up
at him, his face puffy and swollen as if he’d been crying, fear and
pain clear on the rough worn features and for once, Mayan drifted
from his thoughts.

‘Da,’ he said,
an overwhelming love filled him as he looked at the man who had
always been his father. ‘Yer could ‘ave left me ter die,’ Gideon
said, ‘but yer saved me…’ Jed looked at the man standing tall
before him,
the years have flown so fast
, he thought.

‘Yer be me
son,’ he said aloud, ‘
my
son!’

Gideon senior
looked worriedly out of the cottage window.

‘They be
‘uggin’ love…,’ he cried, swallowing hard as the lump in his throat
threatened to burst and let the tears fall. ‘…they be ‘uggin’…’ He
said again quietly, as the two in question walked off toward the
wood. His wife slowly placed her arms around him.

‘Course they be
‘uggin’,’ she said, relief evident in her face, ‘tell me..., when
did the boy get ter be so tall?’ She asked, as the pair stared out
the window watching their son and his son, disappear into the
trees.

Toby saw the
smoke rising from the cottage chimney off in the distance and his
heart began to beat faster, he had been tracking his quarry for a
long time but finally the end was literally in sight. He had come a
long way since he had last seen this cottage, back then, he had
been a favoured son, his mother had pointed the house out to him as
they had travelled into Branton town to shop and stay a few
days.

‘Old Gideon
Green lives there Toby,’ she’d said, ‘I still remember when he
lived out near the forest back ‘ome.’ At the time, Toby had felt a
little empathy for the man, as he would have preferred to live this
far from the forest too. Green Home Forest had always given him the
creeps, making him feel unwelcome, unsafe even.

‘We’ll capture,
an’ ‘old the traitor ‘ere, the column will catch us up on the
Branton Road in a couple o’ days an’ then we’ll travel on ter the
markets an’ ‘ome.’ Toby explained to his men as they reached the
cottage and dismounted.

‘Jayson,’ Toby
called to one of the soldiers, ‘take the animals in ter barn an’
sort ‘em out.’

‘Yes sir,’
replied the young soldier, happy to be sent with the animals and
knowing he had only been sent with the elite force because of his
affinity with the huge beasts.

‘Missing all
the fun again Jayse,’ sneered Duggan, one of Toby’s men as he
handed Jayson his horse’s bridal and spat heavy brown tobacco fluid
at the young man’s feet. Jayson ignored the comment and subsequent
laughter from the other soldiers as he led the horses off, behind
him the soldiers approached the cottage.

Gideon senior
opened the door of the cottage with his wife close behind him both
clearly afraid.

‘I be Gideon
Green, what can I do fer yer,’ he said to the men crowding his
front door, the men turned to Toby at the mention of the old man’s
name.

‘Ner, it’s not
‘im, we be lookin’ fer a younger man, twentyish!’ Toby said
roughly, recognising Gideon’s grandfather. ‘Yer grandson I
believe,’ he added, addressing the old man as he looked past Gideon
senior and his wife and into the cottage interior.

“E ain’t ‘ere,
he lives with ‘is Da in Green ‘ome,’ began Gideon senior attempting
to block the view of his home.

“Old ‘em...’
Toby replied turning to his men and smiling, watching
dispassionately as the old couple struggled and were quickly and
violently overpowered. Toby walked toward the cottage and stepped
inside, intent on finding the younger man himself but as he passed
the threshold, he stopped, suddenly feeling ill, his stomach
clenched hard and his bowels turned liquid. Cold sweat began
running down his back and fear ran through him, fear, as he had
never known it before. He could not understand it; the house seemed
to scream at him, its malevolence almost palpable. In absolute
terror, he turned away from the house and his dread subsided almost
immediately but was quickly be replaced by shame. His embarrassment
at his fear in front of his men made him lash out at the old woman
held captive before him, she screamed out in pain and her mouth
dripped with blood.

‘What d’yer
want?’ Pleaded her husband as he watched his wife helplessly, her
face red and bruised. ‘Please…, what d’yer want?’ He asked again as
Toby lashed out once more, this time at the old man himself.

‘Search the
‘ouse,’ Toby screamed at another of his men. Duggan, the searcher,
again spat black liquid from between his teeth at the ground in
front of him and grinned, enjoying himself immensely.

‘Yes sir,’ he
said and smiled revealing a row of stained and rotten teeth, black
spittle dribbled down his chin and he wiped it with his sleeve as
he walked toward the house. Toby waited, expecting the soldier to
refuse and back out as he himself had done. Deep shame once more
overcame him as Duggan walked on into the house without so much as
a pause and angry again; Toby lashed out once more, this time his
fist catching the frail old man in the solar plexus. Painfully
winded, he sank to his knees.

‘Can’t find him
sir, I’m going upstairs…’ Duggan called, his voice echoing in the
empty house. Toby threw another punch, this time catching Gideon
across the jaw, the force of the blow causing the man to drop prone
to the cold earth.

‘The house is
empty sir.’ The soldier called out from within the cottage.

‘I know ‘e’s
‘ere somewhere, where’s ‘e ‘idin’?’ Toby screamed in fury.

‘I be Gideon
Green.’ The old man said again stubbornly as blood poured from his
mouth and pooled on the cold earth beneath his head. Gideon stared
at Toby with defiance in his eyes as Toby stepped in front of his
wife and taking a knife from his belt, held it to her throat.

‘Where be yer
gran’son, old man, tell me now or she dies…’ he said, pressing the
blade into the skin just deep enough to draw blood. Gideon looked
at his wife in terror as she tried to shake her head.

‘I be ready fer
me journey Gid,’ she cried quietly, tears running down her face,
‘don’t yer go an’ give the boy up,’ she added as the knife pressed
harder. From the ground, Gideon senior sobbed, seeing abiding love,
understanding and acceptance in her eyes.

‘I love yer
woman…, don’t yer see, I ‘ave ter,’ he replied as he looked to
Toby, his face full of tears. The boy’s in the woods, yonder…’ he
sobbed and pointed unsteadily toward the trees. ‘Please…, let me
wife go now... she ain’t done nowt, the boy ain’t ‘ere,’ he pleaded
as his face crumpled with pain and sorrow. ‘Fergive me boy,’ he
whispered as a look of triumph lit up Toby’s face, ‘fergive me…’ he
whispered again as the old woman was thrown sobbing onto her
husband where he lay on the cold hard ground.

‘One of yer tie
‘em up an’ leave ‘em ‘ere,’ ordered Toby impatiently, as he strode
off toward the wood. ‘Come on, hurry,’ he added as his men ran to
catch him up.

In the barn,
Jayson unbridled the horses found them clean stalls and rubbed them
down, he busied himself in caring for the animals not noticing his
surroundings or the other horses already stabled. Hearing a woman’s
scream he started, his soft hands becoming rigid and still, the
animals feeling his agitation became fidgety and cross.

‘Hush, be
still,’ he whispered to the disturbed animals forcing himself to
calm down and as he did, they copied. He hated this part of his job
and hated himself for being a coward.
How many times have I
stood back and done nothing?
He asked himself,
I didn’t join
for this,
his thoughts continued. His stomach knotted in anger
as the woman screamed again, he knew he could do nothing to help
the poor folk who lived here anymore than he had been able to help
his own family, feeling a coward and a failure he stood back,
unknowingly leaning against a beautifully carved stall. His eyes
closed and he tried to ignore the pain in the sound but it seemed
to go on forever, mingling with the screams from his memories.
Suddenly he could see his family once more, his father lying dead
on the ground, his mother held fast in the arms of a bandit and
struggling in vain to get away. He saw his sister lying on the
ground and screaming as another bandit tore at her clothes. He
could see the knife at her throat where the blade was beginning to
bite at her pale skin and unsure whom to help first, he ran toward
his mother who was closest.

‘Drop the knife
boy,’ the bandit holding his mother had ordered.

‘Drop the knife
or they both die...’ Jayson, wild with fury ignored the command as
he continued to rush forward holding his knife point first,
intending to kill the men who had destroyed his family. As he
neared the bandit holding his mother, she suddenly flew toward him,
Jayson could still see the look of shock and surprise on her face
as his knife pierced her soft belly. He held her tightly as the
momentum of the push forced the knife through her.

‘NO..., ‘no,’
he shouted, as his mother lay dying in his arms with her lifeblood
pouring from the wound he had inflicted. In his grief, he did not
see the second man approach from behind and hit him over the head.
Later he awoke in a pool of congealing blood still holding his
mother’s body and as he looked around, he wondered why the bandits
had left him alive. His family lay around him, his sister ravished
with her throat slashed; his father’s body where he had fallen
trying to protect them all and his mother, his mother run through
by his own hand. Behind him, the family home lay in a smoking ruin
and his few possessions were gone, along with what had once been a
happy life. Alone and left alive to bury his dead, knowing he had
been unable to prevent his father’s death , he believed himself the
cause of his mother and sister’s demise, he hated himself and
joined the army to die rather than accept the king’s bounty.

For a moment,
Jayson just stared the images of his dead family swirling through
his mind just as they always did at times like this.
Why am I
still alive?
The question again whirled around his head as he
placed his hands behind him and leaned further into the stalls
supports, his head back and his eyes squeezed tightly shut, his
fingers clutched hard at the wood forcing his tears to stay away,
forcing the merging screams from his mind. As his fingers squeezed
tighter, he felt an anomaly in the normally smooth wood, a tiny
knot beneath his fingers and a strange irregularity in the wall
itself. As he held it, it became warm, almost burning hot, forcing
the images of his parents and sister from his mind. Turning he
found himself looking at carvings of wooden leaves and vines
curling around the deep smooth crossbeams, the vines climbing
higher and higher into the rafters, the supports themselves seeming
to grow from the earth like trees.

Looking about
him, Jayson suddenly realised the whole barn was covered in the
carvings, each stall seemed as if it had grown into place rather
than been built from rough timber. He ran his hands along the walls
in surprise, lovingly feeling each ridge and groove in the wood and
smiling as he came across an elaborately carved frog sitting
watching him from an equally exquisite leaf. He marvelled at the
intricacies of the knife work and smiled with delight as he
discovered more tiny insects and animals hidden amongst the wooden
stalls and beams.
I wonder how I didn’t notice earlier?
He
thought as he continued to discover more and more wonders.

The horses
snorted gently, the air full of the smells of warm straw and wood
and for him, the barn seemed alive, comforting somehow. Jayson had
not known so much peace and love since his family had been lost to
him. Leaning forward, his forehead against what seemed to be the
bole of a tree he at last felt free, free from the guilt he carried
over his family’s death and at last knowing in his heart they were
together on their journey and they wanted him to forgive himself.
Taking a long deep breath, he walked out of the barn to find his
comrades.

‘You, Jayse,
see to it, tie ‘em up’ called the corporal as the three remaining
men hurried after Sergeant Hollins as he walked briskly into the
wood.

Jayson looked
at his senior man disappearing into the trees and then to the old
folk lying cold and bloody on the hard ground.