Aiduels sin, p.45
Aiduel's Sin, page 45
Allana felt tired and spent, as if much of the energy had been drained from her body. She had thought about trying to fight back, about resisting what this other was doing to her, but she had been unsure about what to do. If she was honest with herself, she had also been afraid of how this other might react to any attempt to stop this invisible, ethereal touch.
She was worried. This Angel of Arlais seemed so very powerful, to be able to do something like this. There had never been any sense that Arion had ever drawn energy from Allana, and Allana herself had never done this. Was this woman somehow more powerful than her? More skilled? More special?
Could she take it all if she wanted to, Lana? Is she a threat to you? Could she kill you?
Arion had only ever made Allana feel more alive, powerful and rejuvenated. Indeed, until this afternoon, Allana had felt similarly revitalised by this new person’s presence. But ever since the assault on the town, there had been repeated bursts of power by the other, each of them incrementally draining more energy from Allana.
Even more confusingly, Allana could sense that the other presence was now as tired and depleted as she herself was. If this Priestess Leanna had indeed stolen energy and vitality from Allana, it did not seem that she had kept it for herself. She was using it for some unknown purpose, somewhere behind the walls of the town.
But whatever it was, Allana did not trust her. The other woman was taking what Allana was not freely giving, and this made her worthy of Allana’s distrust and contempt.
This Leanna, Angel of Arlais, was a thief. And even worse, she was a violator.
How dare she do this to you, Lana. How dare she!
Allana looked at the image on the poster one last time, then crumpled the parchment within her hand and tossed it away. She would need to decide what to do to protect herself.
–
The drawing of Allana’s energy continued intermittently into the evening hours, and she collapsed onto her cot that night, feeling exhausted. In the midst of sleep, the dream came to her again…
–
…He moves His hand, a summoning gesture, and once again her body takes her forwards. Seductive whispers of unspoken words assail her.
Lust. Power. Domination.
But then the gesture of His hand changes, and she is aware that something is wrong.
A single finger is raised. And she knows what she must do.
ONLY ONE CAN CLAIM THE POWER.
The words erupt from the Gate like rolling thunder, merciless and discordant, tasting and feeling like fire and ash.
KILL THEM TO MAKE IT YOURS. KILL THEM ALL!
–
She awoke gasping into the darkness, her chest heaving. She stared upwards, trying to contain her pressing anxiety.
Kill them, Lana. Kill them all. That’s what you heard before the violence.
She recognised that she had retained even more of the words which had been spoken by the figure in the Gate, and she had remembered more of the dream. It felt like a revelation.
She wondered whether the presence of the woman Leanna could have somehow contributed to this? Allana did not know. However, as she struggled against the threat of panic, she was still thinking about those final words.
Kill them.
As she lingered upon this, her thoughts kept returning to the other inside the town of Septholme. The woman with apparently fearsome powers, who had drained Allana’s energy, and had left her in this exhausted state. The woman who seemed to pose a possible danger to Allana’s safety. And, perhaps, to her life?
Kill them all.
–
The next day, there was no equivalent assault from the forces of Elannis against the northern gate and walls. Instead, the focus of the invading army appeared to have returned to construction. From the woods to the east, there was a continuation of the felling of trees, and ongoing assembly of the massive siege engines.
In the land to the north of Septholme’s walls, in sight of the defenders but out of range of archers, Allana noted that a different structure was being assembled. Something which had a raised wooden platform, with two vertical beams at either end, and a crossbeam between these.
Allana observed this latter construction process with interest. She was feeling much better today; her energy had recovered somewhat overnight, and her recovery was continuing this morning. There were occasional moments throughout the morning hours when she again felt power being drawn from her, but these were infrequent.
When Jarrett returned to her tent at midday, she asked him what the strange structure on the land in front of the northern walls was.
‘It’s a gallows,’ he replied. ‘For hanging someone by the neck.’
Allana grimaced. ‘Hanging someone? Who?’
‘Gerrion Sepian. We’re going to send negotiators under another flag of truce, soon. And we’ll tell them that unless they open their gates, lay down their arms, and surrender the town, they’ll be watching their duke hang before sunset.’
‘And do you think they will? Surrender?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘So, you’re going to kill him?’
‘I don’t think Markon has decided that yet. I suspect he’ll decide later.’
Allana did not relish the thought of it.
Gerrion Sepian always hated you, Lana. But he still doesn’t deserve this, surely?
Later, after Jarrett had departed, Allana returned to her place outside of the tent. Shortly afterwards, she saw a group of yellow-clad riders emerging from the fortress of Aiduel’s Guards. As these riders drew closer, she could see that Duke Sepian was amongst them, with his hands bound. At one point, the young duke glanced across in Allana’s direction, and she turned her head away, feeling suddenly embarrassed. However, in that brief moment, it seemed that he had recognised her.
The duke was soon led onto the raised platform of the now completed scaffold, which had a single rope hanging down from the crossbeam. Allana observed from a distance as a noose was placed around the neck of the captive, who was then left to stand in place. Sepian’s hands were still bound, and he was facing Septholme.
Shortly after that, three figures emerged from the front of the Elannis ranks, walking towards the town with a flag of truce held before them. Allana watched as the three approached the walls, and then observed as a small wicket gate within the main gate was opened, to allow them entry.
She then waited, wondering what was going to happen next.
–
Sometime later, Allana observed the three figures re-emerging. The sun had passed its zenith during the period of waiting, and was now descending towards the western horizon.
Gerrion Sepian had been made to stand in place, on the gallows, for the duration of the afternoon. The noose had been around his neck for the entire time, and Allana wondered how the young duke would be feeling. Would his legs be shaking with fear? Would he be reflecting on how far he had fallen in just a matter of weeks; from duke of the town he now faced, to a condemned man standing on the gallows before it?
Allana could also identify the giant figure of Jarrett, looming close to the scaffold structure. He was alongside the tall, blonde Prince Markon.
On the town walls, thousands of people were visible, suggesting that the soldiers had been joined by many townsfolk. There was a palpable silence along those battlements, with none of the jeering or defiant gestures which had been prevalent in the preceding days.
Allana watched as the three emissaries approached Prince Markon, and she observed a shaking of heads as they exchanged words with the royal. The prince then turned to face the prisoner, addressing a further unheard message to the figure on the gallows. Allana saw Gerrion Sepian shaking his head in turn, appearing to reject whatever had been said to him.
From all of these observations and interactions, Allana could quickly understand what the answer from Lady Kalyane Sepian had been. The threat had been rebuffed. Septholme was not going to surrender. There would be no quick resolution to this siege.
And Duke Gerrion Sepian was going to hang.
25
Arion
–
Year of Our Lord,
After Ascension, 770AA
In the aftermath of his desertion from the army of King Sendar Pavil, Arion had been travelling on his own for two days.
After setting out alone on horseback in the darkness hours, he had covered a lot of ground on that first night. The next day, after a short rest, he had set out on an extended arc around the city of Condarron. He had chosen to sacrifice the most direct route to reduce the risk of encountering enemy patrols, and he had been journeying on country trails ever since.
He was now beginning to regret his decision to take the long way round. For these two days, he had been travelling through countryside which was a patchwork of anonymous fields and forests, interwoven with a winding maze of trails. He knew that he had been maintaining the right general direction towards Rednarron, although he had already lost significant time after twice being forced to backtrack. He was also uncertain whether he had yet crossed the border from Condarr into the province of Rednar.
The sun would soon be setting at the end of his second full day of lone travel, and he felt tired and hungry. During the prior night, he had slept rough, settling down on a bedroll on the dry banks beside a stream. It had been a broken night of sleep, which had been disturbed further by his recurring dream of the Gate.
He was certain that he had again heard words being spoken prior to violence in the dream. However, once more the memory of those words and the nature of that violence had eluded him after waking.
For much of this day, he had been feeling tense. A sense of urgency had been with him ever since the events at the Royal Palace, and he felt it again now. It was like fingers clenching around his heart, accompanied by an accusing whisper in his mind, which warned him to get back to Septholme before it was too late. He had a foreboding that terrible things were going to happen to his loved ones, if he did not reach them in time to make amends for all of his wrong decisions. Such anxiety had made his detours during the day even more frustrating.
He emerged now from an extensive woodland, and spotted a grand farmhouse and accompanying barn, several hundred metres away. From its size and whitewashed facade, it looked like the residence of wealthier farmers or landowners, and there was a flickering of firelight visible through the lower windows. Arion craved a proper meal, and did not want to sleep outdoors for another night, so he urged his horse on towards the property.
He heard the dogs before he saw them, their frantic barks sounding from the yard in front of the building as he drew nearer. Moments later, four men appeared from the front door of the property. Each was carrying a weapon, but they kept a careful distance from Arion.
‘Be at ease,’ said Arion hastily, raising his hand as he did so. ‘I’m just a traveller, passing through. I’m no threat to you or to your families.’
‘Be on your way then,’ said the closest man, who was a short figure with a noticeable mass of facial hair. ‘We don’t want any strangers bringing trouble down on us.’
‘I want no trouble either, sir. Just a meal, if that’s possible, and somewhere to sleep. I’ll pay.’
The hirsute man squinted at Arion. ‘We don’t know you, sir. And this isn’t a good time for being hospitable to strangers. What’s a lone rider doing out here, and who do you serve?’
‘My name is Arion, and I’m a Knight of the Realm. I ride to Western Canasar, to return to my family there. My loyalty is to the king, to Andar, and to the duke of Western Canasar.’
The speaker frowned. ‘And your thoughts on Houses Condarr and Rednar?’
Arion considered his response. If his answer upset them, they would be of little threat to him, and he would simply lose out on a place to sleep.
‘Duke Condarr has turned traitor,’ he said. ‘Rednar are my allies, and I would happily fight for their cause.’
Arion watched as the four men exchanged quiet words with each other. There was some nodding, then the lead speaker announced, ‘Very well, we’ll not turn you away. My family are true to House Rednar, so we’ll let you rest here. We’ll get you a meal, and you can sleep in my barn, but I want you gone by dawn tomorrow.’
‘That would be perfect, thank you,’ said Arion, feeling relieved. ‘Am I in Rednar, then?’
‘You are. We’re fifteen miles from the border with Condarr, but we’re firmly inside Rednar territory. Although, from the reports that we’ve heard, so is most of the army of Elannis.’
–
Arion was thankful for the hospitality of the household that evening. He ate a hearty meal, and the hirsute farmer provided directions towards Rednarron.
Arion tried to glean more information, but he soon established that his hosts’ knowledge of wider events was limited; they knew only that Rednar had been invaded and that Rednarron was under siege. Arion was relieved that they had not received any news of the city’s fall.
Later, as he was settling down to sleep in the barn, his thoughts returned to a subject which had been troubling him; his role in the murders at the Royal Palace, and the madness of his actions in the hours before and during those events. He was still struggling to make sense of the fact that he had been there at all, and that he could have acted in such a rash way.
He was particularly troubled by the suspicion that he had been used by Sendar Pavil. Prince Senneos’s protestations seemed too genuine in hindsight, and Arion now had worrying doubts about Sendar’s possible role in his father’s death. If Sendar had committed treason, then Arion had become his unwitting accomplice and saviour, by the reckless act of storming into the palace.
Once again, Arion regretted his foolish decision to travel to Andarron, after being lured by the false message.
By the Lord, if only I’d ignored that fucking letter!
The more that Arion considered the missive which had led to all of his current woes, the more that he returned to one of two conclusions. Either Allana dei Monis still lived, and had chosen to mislead him, or she was dead, and someone else had deceived him.
However, the only other people who could possibly have known that he had any interest in Allana were either Leanna, or the pair of Aiduel’s Guards who had notified him that the Dei Magnun woman was dead.
He did not believe for one moment that Leanna could have been involved, which left the only possible suspects as the two Aiduel’s Guards. And he could not see how they could have been aware of the intimate details which had been referred to in the letter.
Therefore, the most plausible conclusion was that Allana still lived, and that she had deceived him. If that explanation was true, then it also followed that she was responsible for luring him away from his home, his family and his wife. She was the one who had made him a betrayer and a king-slayer. And she had put him on the wrong side of the country, at a time when his land was being invaded. An action which had led to the death of Charl Koss and to the possible death of Gerrion.
At the start of each evening since the events at the palace, Arion had felt frustration and self-pity. But with each night that he dwelled upon his suspicions, his emotions were morphing into something else.
Something darker.
–
Sometime later, he finally drifted into sleep on his bed of straw. Once again, during his slumber that night, one of his dreams was far more vivid and intense than all of the others…
–
He was running down the hill from the castle in Septholme, towards the sea.
He could immediately sense that the situation was dire, with the acrid smell of smoke and fire present in the air. From somewhere nearby, he could hear screams amidst a ringing clash of arms.
His attention though was drawn to the waterfront. Out on the ocean, a line of Dei Magnun warships had bows pointing in the direction of the harbour, seemingly travelling in that direction.
But ahead of them, something was… shimmering, risen from the surface of the churning sea. An ethereal, golden wall of light, which was standing high above the frothing waves. It was radiant, vast and breathtaking.
Then he saw the monster. It was on the road ahead of him, much closer to the harbour. It was a beast; dark, inhuman and shockingly fast. This creature was bounding towards the seafront and quay, and was causing terror amongst many townsfolk as it barrelled straight through them.
He was sprinting in apparent pursuit, rushing past a corpse which looked as if its throat had been ripped out. Then he spotted another of the beasts, also ahead. This one was leaping from rooftop to rooftop with unnatural agility, and its destination again appeared to be the harbour.
The ethereal wall of light seemed ever more imposing as he approached the entrance to the waterfront. He was drawing closer to the beasts, but they disappeared from sight as they entered the quayside area. Moments later, he could hear monstrous howls, followed by a chorus of distinctly more human screams.
It dawned on him then that these creatures were hunting. And, if so, it seemed that they had at last found their prey…
–
He awoke from this vision with his body drenched in sweat beneath his clothing. For a few moments, he struggled to draw breath. He had been unsettled by prior visions in his prophetic dreams, but this one had left him both bewildered and frightened.
By the Lord! What was I seeing?
It was still night-time, but he knew that sleep would elude him after what he had witnessed. He stood up, and started to pack his gear in preparation for leaving.
He had to return to Septholme, and he would need to take greater risks to get home sooner. That would include travelling on main roads to reach Rednarron as soon as possible, and he would have to circle closer to that city.
