Trinity (15 page)

A murmur of approval rose up from
the crowd.

Nidan forced his smile to become
cruel. “I’ll take him now, shall I?” He stepped forward, ready to
take charge of Skaric.

Cadman blocked him. “We’ll come
with you.”

Nidan’s heart somersaulted. “Don’t
you trust me?”

Cadman’s eyes narrowed. “It’s not
a matter of trust. You are a Guardian. It’s your duty to protect us
from the Wolves.”

Then why are you so desperate to
watch an execution?

“
This Wolf tried
to murder one of our people. It’s our right to watch his
death.”

There was nothing Nidan could say
to that. His vague plan was falling apart because the villagers
were determined to watch him execute Skaric. He couldn’t do it.
“Very well.” Nidan forced the words out of his mouth. He had to
come up with a new plan. Fast.

Cadman turned to the crowd. “We
end this now! The women and children should remain here. Anyone who
wants to witness the death of the Wolf should follow the Guardian.”
He used hand gestures to order the two men who had brought Skaric
outside to pick him up once more.

As
they did so, Nidan briefly came face to face with Skaric. He kept
his expression hard and glared at Skaric angrily. Skaric looked
back through his one open eye. It was full of sadness so deep that
it swallowed the light of the sun that should have been reflected
there. Nidan felt like he had been punched in the gut. He could
soften his expression or give Skaric some sort of sign that he’d
find a way to save him. Nidan stopped himself. He couldn’t; it was
too risky. Skaric
had
to believe that he was going to die and
that Nidan was the one who was going to kill him.

*

Cocooned within the walls of
the temple, Kiana could hear the villagers baying for blood. She
covered her ears, squeezed her eyes shut and whispered Miale’s name
over and over to block out the cheering, fighting the urge to run
out of the temple and scream at the villagers.

Kiana forced her eyes open.
Skaric’s life was out of her hands. She had to concentrate on
restoring the trinity. She hesitantly removed her hands from her
ears. She could still hear cheering from outside but was able to
think past it.

Taking a deep breath, she
looked at the worn red shades of the fresco again. She traced her
fingertips over the wolf-headed man. Was that all the villagers saw
when they looked at Skaric? Had they even bothered to look at the
earnest passion in his blue eyes or stopped to think that he had
tried to save Innogen’s life? Kiana snatched her fingers back. Red
powder had flaked off onto her skin. She shuddered. It reminded her
of blood.

Clenching her fists to steel
herself, she saw a crudely depicted battle. A dozen men represented
each side with banners flying over their heads. The banners of the
right hand army bore the heads of wolves, teeth barred. Worse, the
faces of the warriors had been replaced by vicious, snarling wolf
heads. Kiana ground her teeth together. An entire group of people
had been vilified because of the actions of one man.

In the sky above the battle,
Pios held Miale in his hands. The goddess looked like a broken
doll, tiny in comparison to Pios. Tears welled in Kiana’s eyes. She
brushed them away fiercely with the heels of her hands. She’d cried
enough. It was ridiculous that she still had tears left. Kiana
gripped her dress in her fists; it had been a gift from the
villagers. She wished she didn’t have to wear it, but her
clothes—Erynn’s clothes—had been taken away. She forced herself to
look at the fresco again. There had to be answers or a clue that
would tell her where to go next.

She saw the castle. It had been
hollowed out to reveal a scene completely out of scale. A child had
been born and in her hands, she held the cup of knowledge. Miale’s
first mortal incarnation. For a moment Kiana couldn’t breathe. She
couldn’t move. She couldn’t even look away.

She had to stop being silly. It
was just a picture, a representation of history. She had to keep
searching and finish what they had come to Norlea to do. For
Skaric. For those who had died at Blackoak Tower. For Nidan and his
sister.

Over the next few scenes the
incarnation of Miale grew: first she was a child, next a young
woman, then bent with age, until finally she was on her deathbed.
Kiana’s heartbeat quickened painfully. Her mouth felt unbearably
dry and her tongue felt like lead as she turned to face the final
image.

The incarnation of Miale was
dead.

She stared at the depiction of
the first age of Thanatos. The fighting had changed: allies had
turned on each other; men leapt to their deaths and women wept,
their minds unbalanced, gripped by madness.

Kiana turned away decisively.
She didn’t need to see any more. She had to go to Orholt.

Everything had gone quiet
outside. Why hadn’t Nidan come back to her?

She ran out of the temple and
into fierce sunlight. Women and children were milling around,
talking. When they saw Kiana, they nodded to her. Why weren’t they
working? Why weren’t the children playing? She looked around but
couldn’t see Nidan anywhere.

Alish broke away from the group
she had been talking to and hurried over. “Are you all right,
Brid?”

Kiana nodded. “Where’s…” She
had almost forgotten the false name he had given himself.
“…Nye?”

“
He’ll be back
soon, dear.”

Kiana stared at Alish. “But
where is he?”

“
Gone with the
men to execute the Wolf.”

Air fled Kiana’s lungs, robbing
her of breath. It couldn’t be true. She stepped backwards. It
couldn’t be true, it just couldn’t. Nidan didn’t hate Skaric that
much, did he?

Alish’s brow became puckered.
“What’s the matter?”

Kiana shook
her head, cupped her hands over her mouth and then forced them back
down to her sides. “I’ve seen too much… it’s too much…” Tears
choked her throat and blinded her eyes. She turned and ran back
into the temple, slamming the door of Miale’s chamber as she went.
The sound echoed around the room and her mind as she crumpled to
the floor. Kiana curled into a ball and hugged her knees to her
chest. It couldn’t be true. Nidan wouldn’t. He
wouldn’t
. Miale. Pios. He
wouldn’t.

*

Nidan walked alongside Cadman as the procession of villagers
dragged their prisoner through the forest. He didn’t speak to any
of them or really pay attention; it was the forest and the path
they were taking that he needed to commit to memory. A crazy, risky
plan had formed in Nidan’s mind as they had walked across the
fields. It only had a chance
if
he could get back to
Skaric quickly. Nidan noticed a bush dotted with strange orange
flowers and a tree that had obviously been struck by lightning
several years before. A short while later, they crossed a brook
that was narrow and shallow enough to splash across.

Finally, they entered a clearing
that was littered with the tracks and droppings of animals. Two men
dragged Skaric into the centre of the clearing, looping Skaric’s
arms around their necks to hold him upright.

Cadman moved to stand in front of
the Wolf. “Open your eyes.”

Slowly, Skaric partially opened
his right eye. Nidan could tell from the flex of Skaric’s muscles
that his companion had tried to open the other eye, but it was
gummed shut with blood and puss. Nidan gritted his teeth and
focused on keeping a blank, relaxed expression.

“
Open your eyes.”
Cadman signalled to another man who stepped forward to punch Skaric
in the gut.

It was interesting that the
village elder didn’t seem to want to get his own hands dirty. When
Skaric still failed to open both eyes, he was gut punched
again.

Nidan stepped forward. “I don’t
think he can.” He hoped there was no trace of compassion in his
voice, only the cold amusement he had tried to speak with.

Cadman’s lips drew taut and his
eye muscles twitched. He didn’t repeat his order or gesture for
another assault. “Wolf, you have been sentenced to death for
committing a crime of violence against a member of my village. Do
you have anything to say in your defence.”

Nidan pressed his lips together,
fighting the urge to roll his eyes. It was far too late to offer
Skaric a chance to defend himself.

A
faint smile touched Skaric’s lips. “No.” His swollen lips barely
moved as he spoke through gritted teeth. “But if this is how you
treat someone trying to help, I wonder what you’d do to someone who
was
really
your enemy.”

Cadman’s brow shadowed his eyes as he glowered at Skaric.
“You’re a Wolf.” He spoke slowly as though he was speaking to a
naughty child. “You
are
our enemy. You don’t deserve to breathe
our air.” And there it was: an admittance that they didn’t need a
good reason to kill Skaric.

“
And
you call
me
a monster.” Skaric’s voice was reduced to a whisper
as he suffered a barrage of kicks and punches: punishment for his
glib words.

Cadman accepted a short sword from
the man next to him and pressed it into Nidan’s hands. “His life is
yours to take, Guardian.” He stepped away.

The
hilt was cold in Nidan’s hand. The blade felt far heavier than it
really was. It was badly weighted. Nidan tested it by cutting
through the air. He had to calm his thoughts. What he was about to
attempt was sheer madness, not least because he was trying to save
the life of a
Wolf
; his
enemy
. At least, he didn’t have to use his own sword.

Nidan stepped directly in front of
Skaric. There was barely the width of a man between them. He was
aware that everyone was watching him, and though his back was
turned to almost everyone, the men holding Skaric were able to
stare at his face. Nidan forced himself to stare Skaric in the eye.
“Are you ready to die?”

A
slight smile, full of bitterness, twitched at Skaric’s swollen
lips. “A Wolf is
always
ready to die.”

Maybe. But I know you’re not
. Nidan drew in a deep breath. In his mind, he offered Pios a
quick prayer. Would his god even listen? Pios had allowed Ysia to
die despite saving Miale. Were gods just as petty as the humans
they watched over? Nidan hoped not. He placed his hand on Skaric’s
shoulder. His right hand tightened on the hilt of the short sword.
Then he looked away from Skaric’s face, concentrating on aiming his
blow.

Nidan drove the sword point into
Skaric’s gut. The Wolf didn’t make a sound. Nidan felt the
resistance of flesh and sinew as he pushed the blade forward until
the hilt rested against flesh. Crimson blood oozed over the hilt,
making his hand slick and his grip weaker. He looked up and saw
pure unbridled pain in Skaric’s eye. He gritted his teeth and
pulled the blade clear before driving it in again, creating a
mirror wound on Skaric’s left hand side. His hand was drenched in
blood. He watched his companion closely. Skaric was staring
forward, his open eye blazing fiercely. Fighting.

Give up!

Nidan pulled the blade free again, slowly; it would cause more
pain. Skaric
had
to succumb to the pain. For a moment,
the fierce expression remained on Skaric’s face, but then the
muscles in his face relaxed and the light in his eye was slowly
extinguished. Skaric stared at Nidan. Nidan felt his own gut twist
and ache as surely as if someone had stabbed
him
. He felt like
a traitor.

The drawn out moment passed as
Skaric’s right eye closed. His entire body slumped in the arms of
his captors. Nidan stepped back and drove the sword into the
ground. He wanted rid of the vile thing. The men holding Skaric let
go, allowing his body to fall unceremoniously to the floor. His
blood flowed freely from his wounds, quickly soaking into the moss
covered ground.

Cadman peered down at the body.
“Is he dead?”

Nidan knelt down beside Skaric’s crumpled body.
Don’t be dead
. He placed his hand over Skaric’s mouth and waited. He
could feel his heart thundering in his chest as he
waited.

“
Is he dead?”
Cadman said again.

“
How long does it
take to check?” another man asked.

“
I want to be
sure.” Nidan felt the slightest feeble breath. He pushed his mouth
into a snarl to subdue the tiny smile that crept across his lips.
“He’s dead.”

“
Peg out the
body,” Cadman said. “Make it inviting for the beasts of the
forest.”

Nidan shivered at the glee in Cadman’s voice. He forced
himself to stand by passively as Skaric’s wrists and ankles were
bound to four stakes, which were then hammered into the ground. He
watched Skaric closely.
Pios,
don’t let anyone see that he’s breathing. Please.
No one would see: Skaric’s breaths were
so weak that Nidan could barely be sure that his companion was
alive.

As
the procession began to move away, Nidan took one last look at
Skaric.
Don’t die. Pios, don’t
let him die.

Chapter
Nine

Kiana launched herself at Nidan as
soon as he entered Miale’s chamber. “How could you do it?” It was
difficult to keep quiet as she struck her fists hard against his
chest, briefly feeling the tension that had tightened his muscles.
“How could you?”