Sanctuary (Dominion) (32 page)

I picked up a twig and used it to scratch the dirt next to me, like Brant had done back in Eoferwic. "I know a few who would consider that a blessing, to come face to face with God. But I'm not one of those priests.” I chuckled. “I'm not even a priest, not officially. I don’t know if I ever will be. I've been to Rome. I've studied and trained and learned. But I was sent away. I spent too much time trying to figure out why I was there. I suppose my faith in those days was best described as fragile. Just like our lives.”

“But that was before Arkael showed up. That day changed me, although I’m still trying to figure out what, exactly, changed. I’m clear about one thing, though. For the first time in my life I know what God wants from me. I just don’t know how to do it. I keep thinking I have all the answers, but all I've done is make things worse. I’ve acted rashly over and over again, and now I’ve dragged us all into a situation I can’t see any way out of."

"That's not even the worst part. I’m not afraid to die, but I am afraid of meeting God at the gates of heaven and having to explain to Him why I've failed in every task He’s set before me."

I looked at Avaline, at the woman who seemed to be at the center of my entire journey, and a larger picture began to take shape. Arkael had taken me from Rogwallow, and Ewen from Eoferwic, both of them leading me on a trek that ultimately brought me to Ynys Mon. To her. And now here we sat, the two of us, the healer and the patient.

Was it that simple?

Maybe this was the sign I’d been looking for all along. Perhaps God brought me here to find her, not to understand what she was, or how she fit into this plan, but to save her. Just to make her better, after all she’d suffered. It was in my power, wasn't it? I stared at her deep, brown eyes, which stood out in comparison to her pale face, and I saw a beautiful woman trapped in a deep, dark pit, and I stood at the edge with the only rope.

“Avaline,” I whispered to her, “if we make it through this, I will get you out of here. I’ll take you somewhere safe. Maybe Mercia, or back to Wessex. Somewhere the Danes aren’t close to. I’ll find a place where Lorcan won’t find you, and then I’ll heal you. Even if it doesn’t work at first, I’ll do it every day until it does.”

Her swaying brought her close to me, and when our shoulders touched she didn’t move away from the contact. She leaned on me, instead, and my arm wrapped around her, holding her close.

“I’ll make you better, Avaline. You don’t deserve any of this. I’ll take you somewhere and make you happy. For once in your life, you should know what that feels like. You should be safe.”

I said the words, even though I had trouble believing them. But that didn’t matter to me. I only hoped she'd believed them.

“Safe.” The word came from Avaline, although it took a moment for me to realize that. Once I did, I spun her around to face me.

“What did you just say?” She looked at me, at my eyes, and she held my gaze this time. It only lasted a heartbeat, but that was forever compared to before. “Did you just say safe?”

“Dan-Daniel,” she said, and I nearly leapt with joy. I looked around, trying to find someone, anyone to share this moment with, but there was no one. No one except for me and her. My eyes welled, and I clumsily tried to brush away a tear with my robe. Avaline settled back into my arm, and I let her, a smile stuck on my face. She’d spoken my name. She knew who I was, and she knew what I intended. It was working. My healing was working!

The rest of the night was a blissful haze. Avaline fell asleep, and I laid down next to her, staring up at the stars. I finally had a shred of hope, and I wanted to hold on to it as long as I could. All I had to do was survive long enough to escape with Avaline. If we could get somewhere safe then I could make her whole again. For the first time in weeks, I fell asleep believing that the next day would be better.

*****

A kick to my midsection woke me in the night, followed by a harsh whisper.

"Where is she?"

I opened my eyes to see Boric standing over me, his expression angry. Without thinking, I looked over to see Avaline lying motionless a few feet away, her chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm on the ground next to me, still asleep. I wondered who he could be talking about. 

"Where's the old hag?"

Sefrid.

I sat up and looked around the camp, but found no sign of her. Burly Irishmen moved about in the darkness off in the distance, but no small, hunched over Druidess was among them.

"I don't know," I said, expecting another kick for my trouble. Boric must have believed me, though, because he frowned at the forest just as I had, and then left. A small woolen sack lay on the ground nearby, the only thing Sefrid brought with her on this trip. I grabbed it and rummaged through it, but found nothing except for some dried meat, and strips of cloth and leather. Nothing important.

At first I worried that something had happened to her. But then I thought back to our conversation last night, along with the promise she made me give. She knew she was leaving. But where did she go? And why now?

The rest of the camp buzzed with quiet, determined activity as warriors pulled on their armor, put out their fires and stuffed everything back into their packs. I leaned over and woke Avaline with a gentle nudge. Her eyes shot open, and they rested on my face briefly before wandering away again. She let me help her up and I tried to straighten her hair and clothes as much as I dared to without being completely improper. I’d hoped she might speak again, which I would take as a sign that my healing had more than a fixed effect on her. But she was as silent and distant as she'd always been. I was disappointed, but the euphoria of last night hadn't completely faded away. I could hold on to that joy a while longer if I had to.

I turned at the sound of rustling leaves to see Lorcan stomping through the woods, Boric close behind. He stopped in front of us, his eyes searching the camp before finally settling on me.

“Where is she?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know. She said nothing.”

He ran his tongue across his lips, no doubt wondering if I dared to lie to him. He grunted and then stomped away just as quickly as he arrived.

The sky was dark gray, which meant we had very little time before the sun rose and Towyn’s defenders woke. The leaders called the war band together quickly, and then divided it into three parts. Ruark’s men, who numbered just over half of Cullach’s, were kept together and sent under his lead to approach the town from the west. Cullach’s men were split into two groups, one of which would attack from the south while Cullach himself would lead the remainder to attack from the north. Lorcan, Avaline and I stayed with Cullach’s group.

Torches were lit, and we no longer tried to keep our existence a secret. We all filed through the forest in a rough line, led by the four dozen or so cavalrymen at the head. Sometime during the ride, Cullach held up his horse and waited for me. He fell in beside Avaline and myself, waving off Boric, and though he said nothing at first, I could tell he wished to talk. So I did what I was trained to do, and I lured the information out of him by putting the focus somewhere else.

“I must admit, this is a terrifying experience. I’ve never been part of something like this, at least not from this vantage point. I suppose it’s normal for you, though.”

Cullach regarded me with cautious eyes before returning his gaze to the woods in front of us. “I was raised for this life. Some people know farming. I know this.”

“I imagine it wears on the soul.”

Cullach laughed, quietly, and shook his head, his stoic veneer fading into something much more affable. “I like you, priest. Daniel, yes?”

“Yes, sire.”

“You’re much more perceptive than the Christians I knew as a boy.”

“Only to a point, sire. I know something troubles you, but I don’t know what that is until you tell me.”

Cullach gave me a knowing glance. “I see why that woman likes you, too. Fine. Tell me about God, Daniel. What does He want from us?”

“What does He want?” I repeated. “Well, the Bible has a few things to say about that.”

“I know the Bible,” he interrupted. “What do you say?”

“Hmmm. Well, the book of Micah says, ‘What doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God.’” I shrugged. “It sounds simple, but I’ve found that it’s not quite so in practice. It’s easy to recite words, but it’s difficult to make them happen. I think what God really wants from us is to know that we accept him into our hearts and our minds, not out of a sense of obligation, but because we choose to.”

Cullach looked at me for a long moment, then stared ahead at the darkness that surrounded us. “God forgives, yes?”

“Of course. He gave His only son as forgiveness for our sins.”

“So if I repent, then I am saved?”

“According to scripture, acts of repentance do not earn God's forgiveness from one's sin; rather, forgiveness is given as a gift from God to those whom he saves."

“You make it sound as if I’m free of my burden.”

“No. Not all Christians, and especially not all priests will agree with me, but Christianity isn’t really about ritual or offerings or obedience. It’s much simpler than all that. Christianity is about accepting the gifts of the Lord into your heart.”

“That’s how you see it?” I sensed a test in his question, so I gave him an honest answer.

“That’s how it should be.”

Cullach became quiet again, and I said nothing more, not sure if it was my place to lecture him on the core values of a faith he'd long ago abandoned. I had little desire to do so, anyway, since he didn’t like his priests growing up. But even so, I saw something in his desire to reach out to me on this topic. I felt a sense of trust from him, and that emboldened me to reciprocate on a different issue.

“Sire,” I said quietly, trying to find the courage, “I must again warn you about Lorcan. This army he’s creating is not-” Cullach held his hand up, cutting me off. He waved someone up, and suddenly Boric appeared next to me, grabbing the reigns of my horse.

“You two are staying behind,” he said, as if that settled the affair. Boric slowed, holding us back while the rest of the company moved ahead. I watched, ill at ease, as Cullach rode away, and I wondered if I’d been wrong about him.

*****

A short time later, Cullach called out his orders, and the host split. Ruark and all of his men pulled away to our right, while roughly half of Cullach’s men moved to the left, under the command of a warrior named Malador. Lorcan and his men, to whom I was inexorably bound for now, stayed with Cullach, and we continued on ahead.

Cullach's men stopped at the tree line only a few moments later, and I rode my horse close enough to them to see the town some distance away, across a wide open field, awash in the fading moonlight. Towyn was small compared to places like Eoferwic, Lincoln, or Lodis, more like a large, compact, well-fortified village. It was surrounded by an earthwork, as expected, with a high wooden palisade built on top, but I couldn't see anyone manning the walls, making the decision to attack early in the morning a prudent one. A road to our left reached the town on its east side, where the main gate stood, though it was closed, and no guards were posted outside.

We waited there long enough for everyone to form into lines and ready their weapons. I watched as the men around us hefted swords and axes in their hands, their grim eyes staring out of the holes in their helms. One man vomited, and that caused two others to do the same. Another started singing, softly, and several others joined in, just as quietly. I didn’t know the song, which they sang in some unrecognizable Irish dialect, but that didn’t keep me from understanding it. It was bawdy, but also inspiring, and I imagined them singing of an Irish hero somewhere, who’d slain hundreds of his enemies.

“There,” someone said, and several of the men in front pointed at the sky. I leaned under the low hanging branches to see a flaming arrow arc through the air. Everyone watched it land harmlessly on the ground outside the city. The army then turned their heads in unison to the right, watching the horizon to the west for what I assumed would be the same sign from Ruark’s men. This must be how they let each other know they were in position. After several long, breathless minutes, another flaming arrow appeared, and landed on the ground.

"Lorcan," Cullach said. The old sorcerer rode up alongside his chief, and with a nod of Cullach's head, Lorcan dismounted from his horse and walked out into the field, alone. He strode forward at least fifty paces, a small, solitary figure in the dim, early morning light. He stopped, raised his staff toward the town, and shouted, though I couldn’t understand anything he said. He danced then, turning about in circles and hopping on one foot, all while chanting something equally as unintelligible. But I didn’t need to know the words to understand that he was cursing the city's defenders.

He reached into a pouch at his side, and pulled out a dark powder. He spoke to it, and then threw it to the ground in front of him, the dust from the powder billowing out into the air. He waved his staff and shouted a word, and a fire sprung from the ground, which slowly worked its way through the grass toward the city, moving in a straight, deliberate line. The fire began as a small thing, but it grew steadily as it approached the earthwork, and ultimately, the wooden walls keeping Cullach's men out.