Pilgrimage (18 page)

“No, don't. Don't!” Thomas begged and shouted and cried but Lloyd only stood smiling. In one hand he held a dry, broken stick. Lloyd smiled at him. The stick crackled and the end burst into flames. Without a word he tossed it into the shed and walked away. The little tin building went up in flames, and the roar of the fire swallowed Thomas' screams as the heat engulfed him.

Chapter 12

Caia told Roland and Griffith to find the dirt road and follow it back to the Red Lion Tavern and they did just that. Dark clouds moved in and turned the sky black by the time Roland and Griffith broke through the tree line. They felt the first drops of rain falling as they reached the Red Lion. There they waited while Caia remained in the bush, cleaning up the mess left by her family. When Caia returned, the bar had closed and the staff packed up for the night. Roland and Griffith sat in the restaurant with a pitcher of water between them. Caia stepped through the doors, waterlogged and covered in dirt. Roland watched her as she spotted them, crossed the room and pulled out a chair at their table. Griffith never looked at her, but he spoke, his tone bitter, almost venomous.

“Did you bury them all?”

Caia nodded. “In the end, there was nothing any of us could have said and done. Their fate was to die one way or another.”

“Do you really believe that?” Griffith asked.

“Yes. Their time had come. Richard knew his fate and accepted it. Like it or not, we can't go against fate.”

“Richard was afraid.”

“There's a certain kind of bravery in being resolved to your fate, no matter how horrible it seems.”

Griffith sighed. “Well, now that you're done, what's your fate?”

“I've been thinking about that. I thought about it when I went into exile and while I hunted my brothers. I thought about that while I buried them. Richard, Juan, our master and all the others were my family. It hurt to be pushed away by my family. But I realised that it was my fate to leave them and see what our actions meant in the real world. My fate was to punish them for what we had done and their fate was to die. I didn't know what came next until today. I had always expected that I would die in battle with my brothers. But here I am, still alive. It seemed unfair at first.” Caia paused and took a deep breath, mustering her strength. Outside, thunder clapped over Glencoe.

“There are no coincidences. We were meant to meet on the farm and we were meant to meet again today. Fate has brought me to you for some reason and I think it is my fate to go with you to Salem.”

“Why would you want to come with us?” Roland asked.

“It's not about what I want; it's just what I have to do.”

“There's no killing on our pilgrimage.” Griffith crossed his arms. “I'm going to learn magic to heal people, not hurt them. I've sworn not to hurt people with magic. Those are the rules.”

“What about him?” Caia gestured to Roland. Griffith glanced at him and then turned back to Caia.

“He tells me when my plans are stupid.”

“I was starting to think he was your bodyguard.”

“Roland isn't my bodyguard. He's my friend with common sense. I don't need a bodyguard. Why does everyone think I need a bodyguard?”

“Because you're an idiot who walks into danger?” Roland chimed in after a disinterested sip of water.

“Well, I don't!” Griffith turned his head away from both his companions.

“Perhaps you do. If you've crossed Pentdragon, there's trouble in your fate,” Caia continued. “You'll need somebody who can see you to your journey's end and face that danger.”

“Trouble?” Griffith turned back to her.

“Trouble. Trouble like me. Naive weaklings like you are the kind of people I used to prey on. Trouble always finds people like you and you don't stand a chance.” Griffith rolled his eyes. Caia continued: “I can change that. I'm convinced it is my fate to change that and atone for my past.”

“You want to make it better?”

“Yes.”

“And no more killing?”

“I have nobody left to kill.”

“Well, all right.” Griffith smiled and held out his hand. “That's all I needed to know.” Caia took his hand and shook it.

The three of them spent the night at the Red Lion. Griffith awoke at six the next morning to prepare. He woke Roland shortly after, but was surprised to learn that Caia was not in her room. He found her downstairs, in the restaurant, talking with the manager – a tall, bearded man of indeterminable age with hair equal parts white and grey. Caia gave Griffith a nod in greeting and Griffith returned upstairs to finish preparing for the day. When he and Roland had packed, they met Caia for breakfast.

Over their meal, Caia revealed that The Red Lion Tavern was the first place she'd gone after leaving her family. Over time she kept coming back and had become close friends with the owner. While they talked and ate, the tension between the group began to fade. The night's events seemed to get further away, fading into history and leaving only a new bond of friendship. Griffith and Caia did much of the talking while Roland listened and enjoyed his drink. He could see Griffith trusted Caia immediately, the way he trusted everybody unconditionally. Roland couldn't understand how he could be so welcoming, so trusting and so forgiving. As for Caia, she fascinated him. She seemed to wear her heart on her sleeve as if she had nothing to hide and yet she never showed fear. He didn't understand her in the slightest and yet, as he listened to her talk, he knew that he could trust her.

He also knew that he and Griffith had more trouble in their future, just as Caia said, and he was glad to have somebody with her talents on their side. He wasn't sure if it would be Pentdragon again or somebody else, but so far their pilgrimage had been far more dangerous than any road trip should be. Roland could only assume that it would continue that way and, when the shit hit the fan, an unscrupulous fighter only gave them better odds. Whatever Caia had done in her past was her business. Roland knew he was in no position to judge.

By eight o'clock all three of them had eaten breakfast, gathered their things and started walking. Caia had everything she owned in the world bundled tightly into a brown, leather satchel. As soon as they had set out on the road north, Griffith announced excitedly:

“We don't have a map any more but I'm pretty sure I can still remember where we go next. After Glencoe we follow the New England Highway to Glen Innes. After that we follow a different road. It's another big one, I can't remember what it's called, though. But that's all right. We'll be able to get a map in Glen Innes. But this means we're almost half-way there. In spite of everything, we're almost half way there.”

The previous night's rain still soaked the ground. Grey clouds covered the sky, threatening to rain on them again. Caia, in her short sleeves, didn't seem bothered by the cold. Open, grassy fields bordered the road. Rolling, tree covered hills stretched out beyond them, all the way to the horizon. Everything was one shade of green or another; life seemed to flourish in the cold, wet June. The fallen rain on the grass gave the air a vibrant, sweet smell.

A short time later, without seeing it until it was on them, they stumbled on a barely noticeable hamlet on the highway. A sign at a junction in the road marked the hamlet as owning the curious name of Stonehenge. The tiny community disappeared behind them as quickly as it had sprung up before them. Later in the afternoon, while the trio travelled through the vast, green world they were surprised by the sound of a car pulling up behind them. Griffith, Roland and Caia turned to look.

Two men stepped out of an old VW Beetle. One was tall and hairy, as if he hadn't shaved once in his life; he wore green camouflage pants. The other was a very familiar-looking short man in a tweed jacket. Roland stepped towards them, positioning himself in front of the others. Caia stepped up beside him.

“We're not here to fight you. We're just here to deliver a message,” The hairy one said.

“Whatever it is, we don't want it,” Roland answered.

“Perhaps not. But I'm sure you want this.” He reached into the back of his car and pulled out a bag. Roland recognised his backpack immediately. The hairy man took a few steps towards them, placed the bag on the ground, then stepped away from it.

“What I want is for Pentdragon to go fuck himself.”

“Roland!” Griffith whined.

“Aren't you listening?” The hairy said. “This is a peace offering. Lord Pentdragon wishes to make amends.”

“Bullshit. He tried to kill us. Why would he want to make amends now?”

“I'm not paid to understand Lord Pentdragon's motives. I am just delivering the message.”

“Where's the other one?” Griffith asked, stepping around to Roland's side.

“Other what?” The hairy one answered.

“Bag. Where's the other bag?”

“Lord Pentdragon has it. He will give it to you if you visit him in Glen Innes. The details are in an envelope in the bag.”

“Do you expect us to believe any of this?” Roland asked.

“I'm just delivering the message. You don't have to go, and, whatever Pentdragon has to offer, you don't have to accept it. All he's asking is that you see him and he'll give you back what's yours.” The messengers said no more but got back into the car and drove on.

Roland, Griffith and Caia took a quiet moment to try to process what had happened. Caia made a move towards the bag. Roland rushed ahead of her and picked it up. He held the bag against his chest, with his back to the others. He unzipped it and rummaged through it. There was the letter, there was his extra clothes, his wallet, the motel toiletries he'd stolen, a brown paper bag he didn't recognise and most importantly, there was his bottle of scotch. Roland sighed, relieved, and shoved the bottle deep under everything else.

“There's a letter and something else.” Roland turned around so his companions could see. He revealed the folded letter and the brown paper bag. Both items bore a red wax seal. Griffith took the letter and Caia took the bag. Roland zipped up his backpack and slung it over his shoulders, then turned his attention to Griffith. The young sorcerer opened the letter and read aloud:

To my most worthy adversaries

I give you my sincere apologies for the misunderstanding between us at my home in Guyra. I think you will agree that we both made hasty and ill-considered decisions that led to such an unpleasant arrangement as your proposed execution. Who can say what fateful forces drove us to such madness? Alas, it does not matter, now. I have seen the error of my ways and I hope you may say the same. Now my only desire is to make amends for my part in what has passed. I know that you are on your way to Salem and so I have endeavoured, with all my talents and resources, to arrange a meeting with you that will not detain you too long or take you off course even a little. I hope you will find it in your heart to accept my invitation and meet with me. Only then, do I feel, that we can close this unpleasant chapter in our lives and look forward to new and profitable alliances. Should you agree to meet with me, I will send for you at the Highland hotel. I have arranged for you to rent room seven.

Yours Sincerely

Lord Pentdragon

“He sure takes the long way around to say he's sorry,” Roland said. “What's in the bag?”

Caia nodded and tore open the seal. Inside the bag were two chain necklaces with ornamental golden plates hanging in two rows.

“Hideous jewellery.” Caia pulled one of the necklaces out so the others could see.

“Does he expect us to wear them? What are they for?” Griffith snatched a necklace and took a closer look. Caia took out the second one and tossed the paper bag aside.

“I thought my jewellery was ugly. Why would he give you these?”

“I don't know. We can ask him when we go see him.” Silence followed Griffith's words. Griffith looked from Caia to Roland and then back to Caia. Roland stared at him in disgusted disbelief. “What?” Griffith asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“We're not going to see him,” Roland said.

“Why not?”

“Because he tried to kill us.”

“And he changed his mind.”

“He'll try to kill us again.”

“You don't know that.”

“Griffith, you wanted me here to tell you when your plans are stupid. This is the stupidest fucking plan you've had yet. We're not going to see Pentdragon.”

“It doesn't matter if it's a good plan or not. We have to go.”

“Why?”

“Because he's got my stuff. You got your bag back; I need to get mine. There's no other way.”

“Is what you've got really worth dying for? If it's so important, why didn't you mention it before?”

“You're being overly dramatic, Roland. This can only work out for the better.”

“You're an idiot. Caia, you agree with me, don't you?” Roland turned to Caia for help.

“Actually,” Caia smiled. “I think we should go. Even if Pentdragon tries to kill you again, we can just escape. In fact I hope he does – it'll be fun to ruin his plans. And while we're there we can get Griffith his stuff back and help ourselves to whatever else Pentdragon won't miss. Or will miss. I don't care.”

“We're not going there to rob him!” Griffith protested. “Look, we have to go and see him. If we don't, he'll only keep following us. He might even take offence and then he'll definitely try to kill us again. If he is going to try to kill us – which I doubt – then at least we'll get my stuff back, first.”