He threw his arms around GogMagog’s neck and buried his face in the crystal mane. His hands trembled with fear, and Gort shook violently, still half in the comforting darkness. He raised his head and looked straight into the face of Aisling who was staring up at him in the shadows over her head.
“Come back,” she whispered.
His heart leapt out to her summons, and it was as easy as gathering the silver ball of threads in his hand and swallowing them. Slipping back into the frail, thin, beaten body, his spirit immediately wished on one level he had not. The pain was overwhelming, and it was all Gort could do not to bolt right back out, into the safety of the shifting veils of darkness. Aisling’s hands on his face and her voice in his ears pushed back the agony; his mind followed her voice up out of the pain-filled void. The body that stirred under his will felt strange and alien, inconsequential after the great strong body of Sir Gawain.
He forced his lungs to raise his chest and breathe in and out, listened as his heart stuttered, hesitated, and then picked up a reassuringly steady beat. His eyes opened, and his battered face managed a weak smile for Aisling, who cried even harder. Sarie took his hand in hers, felt for his pulse, and smiled down at him.
“Who did this? Who did this?” Coll’s voice was harsh with his effort to suppress the tears threatening to spill over.
“Uncle Daniel. Grabbed me, dragged me here and started beating on me.” The voice was faint and distorted by the damage done to his face.
“I told you it was Daniel, you worthless excuse of a man.” Emily turned like a tiger on Ted, the chief constable of Penzance.
Ted held up his hands and backed away from her wrath. “How was I to know, no one in town had seen the man.”
“And you defended the jackass, bleating about you’d talked to him and how he’d changed. Learned his lesson and gone clean,” Emily spat at Ted.
“Where is he?” Coll’s voice was dangerously calm.
“Leave off, Coll, he’s not worth your trouble,” Gort said softly from his spot on the ground with his head still in Aisling’s lap. His heart turned over in his chest as she smiled down at him and stroked his forehead. Almost worth getting the stuffing kicked out of me. The thought floated in his muzzy brain.
“Where is that doctor? You did call Doc Ellerly didn’t you, Ted?” Emily fretted by the door of the shed looking out into the darkness.
“He should be on his way. I told him where to find us.” Ted used the excuse to go out into the alley and look for the doctor. Anything to get away from the accusation in Emily’s face when she spared him a look.
Gort dragged himself into a sitting position, wincing as his body objected to moving at all. The boy leaned back against the rotting boards of the side of the shed and waited for the world to settle down and stop spinning. The roaring in his ears faded gradually as the world ceased pirouetting around him.
Instinctively, he shrank back against the wood as the door of the shed burst open suddenly. Coll spun toward the door with a stout piece of wood clutched in his hands. Careful laughter spilled from Gort’s mouth as the black head of his pony Gog thrust through the opening. The pony gave the door another great nudge and daintily pushed his way into the shed.
Emily moved out of his way as the pony made a beeline for the thin figure, shoving his nose against him. The pony’s eyes were level and in their liquid depths lived the shining crystal of GogMagog’s eyes.
“I promised I would be here, and I am, and you are. That is all that matters,” Gog said succinctly.
A new warmth and strength ran through his body; his heart would never be alone again. His train of thought was broken by the arrival of Doc Ellerly, who pushed the pony out of his way without ceremony and winced in sympathy at the state of the damaged face.
“Did a right proper job, he did,” Doc remarked conversationally.
“Seems he did,” Gort agreed.
Aisling got to her feet and moved back to give Doc more room to work, and Sarie held her torch to give him light.
“Well, son, you have a broken arm and three fingers on this hand,” Doc Ellerly remarked, casually fashioning a temporary splint on the right arm. “I think you may have a fracture in your right ankle or shin from the swelling, but I won’t know for sure until we get some x-rays done. I’m pretty sure you have some broken ribs, but we’ll need more x-rays to be certain of how many.”
Aisling turned her face into Emily’s shoulder, and her shoulders shook with her sobs. Gort wanted to tell her it was okay; it didn’t really feel bad at all, but the stuff in the needle Doc inserted in his arm didn’t seem to want his tongue to form the words.
Gort gave up trying and let the drug wrap him in warm, dark, cotton wool. GogMagog’s presence in his mind helped him to stay in his body and not drift off somewhere. Reaching out in the drug-induced darkness, the boy wrapped his fingers firmly into the glistening crystal mane and held on.
He opened his eyes briefly as the pain of the ambulance medics moving him onto a stretcher dragged him out of the safe darkness but drifted away again as Doc Ellerly slid another silver needle into his skin. For a moment his vision shifted and it was Alain who tended to him. Satisfied, he was indeed safe, Gort slid into the dark warm sea of unconsciousness.
The next time his eyes opened was in a hospital, and a motherly-looking nurse was gathering supplies for the doctor to put a real cast on his arm to hold the break immobile. It was far too much effort to keep his eyes open, and the pain was only faintly gnawing. His mind slid back into the comforting darkness and let life go on without him for the moment.
* * *
He felt a gentle hand on his face and followed the sound of voices up out of the blackness and opened his eyes. The rain was hissing against the hospital window beside him. Turning his head toward the hand resting on his cheek, his gaze found Aisling’s worried eyes. She smiled in relief and took his less-damaged hand in hers.
Coll’s face swam into his vision, and Gort grinned at him before remembering the damage to his face. The movement made him aware of his bandaged nose and the stitches in his chin and lip. His nose itched horribly, but his right hand refused to scratch it because his arm was in a hard, heavy white cast.
“How long did it take you to find me?” His voice sounded funny in his ears because of his bandaged nose.
“A couple of hours, we think. We know when you left Aisling, but we don’t know when Daniel grabbed you.” Coll sat on the edge of the bed, ignoring Aisling’s frown at his action.
“He got me just after I started for home. I didn’t know it was him at first, thought maybe it was Stuart again.”
“Gwin Scawen came screaming at my window for me to come quick, and Sarie said your pony broke out of the field and raced for town. She followed him and got there just after we found you in the shed. I called Emily and Coll as soon as I could make sense out of what Gwin was trying to tell me.” Aisling supplied more details.
“Was Uncle Daniel still there when you got there? Not that it really matters, I guess.”
“Emily and I saw him running toward the harbor when we came up the alley,” Coll said.
“I caught him in the act of hitting you when I got there, and thank goodness, one look at Gwin Scawen turned him white as ghost. The man raced past me out the door.” Aisling smoothed some hair back from the stitches. “I thought you were dead.”
“Good thing I have a hard head.” The wounded warrior smiled gently at her and saw a fleeting look of the Lady Nuina about her. Grateful the memories remained, he thanked GogMagog for helping him retain the events of his past. A new confidence grew in him at the memory of his time as Sir Gawain. At some point, it would be time to figure out what went wrong on his journey to the Mystery Gog talked about. Not now, however.
“Nobody’s seen him since,” Coll said. “I should go and call Gramma and Sarie and let them know you’re awake. I think Ted wants to talk to you, too, when you feel up to it.”
“Ted won’t do anything about Uncle Daniel.” His voice was thick with disgust.
“He just might this time,” Coll said. “He was pretty shocked by the state you were in, and I heard Gramma telling Sarie that Old Man Pritch from over in Mousehole had been to speak to him about the situation.” The tow headed boy turned and left the room. Something in his movements and the tilt of his head reminded Gort sharply of the way another blonde man with steely eyes held himself. A shock of recognition seared through him. He almost called out to Lance before he remembered this was another place and time, a step beyond where his memories would take him.
“I just hope he’s gone for good this time.” Gort shifted his body, looking for a more comfortable position and noticed for this first time his right leg was encased in plaster as well as his arm. “How broken am I?” Raising his eyebrows and wincing when the movement pulled on his stitches.
Aisling listed his various wounded parts which included a concussion as well as his broken bones. She had just finished when a nurse came into the room and shooed her and Coll out of the way so she could check on her patient.
Gort waved at them with his good hand, before laying his head back and submitting to the nurse’s examination. His body was very grateful when she finished her assessment and then gave him a shot of something which made him feel delightfully detached from his pain. As the rain ran down the windowpane beside him, his mind floated away into the soft blackness again.
* * *
It was night when he opened his eyes, and Sarie slept in the chair beside his bed. She woke when she heard him stir in his bed and smiled at him wearily.
“Back in the land of the living are we?” Sarie greeted him.
“Barely.”
“How do you feel? Shall I ring the nurse for more pain killers?” Sarie moved to stand beside him.
“I think I’m all right for now, thanks.”
“Go back to sleep if you can then; it’s only three in the morning.” Sarie offered a sip of water from the bent straw in the cup by his bed.
“Have you been here all night?”
“Either Emily, or me, or Aisling and Coll will be with you while you are in hospital,” Sarie informed him. “No one has seen Daniel about, but we aren’t taking any chances until they find him.”
“I should feel guilty for being such a pain, but I don’t.” The words rang with truth. “Thanks Sarie.”
“No need to feel guilty, child. Close your eyes and sleep.” Sarie stroked his face.
The sound of the nurse bringing in his breakfast tray woke him the next morning, and Coll and Aisling had replaced Sarie at his bedside. Coll was fairly bursting with excitement about something. Aisling shushed him and glanced at the nurse. At last, the nurse left, and Coll bounced out of the chair and came over to the bed.
“What’s got your knickers in a knot?” Gort asked quickly.
“You’re never gonna guess,” Coll began. “You know what they found in the bay this morning?”
“I’m never gonna know unless you tell me.”
“They found your Uncle Daniel floating in on the tide. Deader than a doornail,” Coll said with much satisfaction.
“Coll, for heaven’s sake, what a way to tell him,” Aisling exclaimed in alarm as Gort’s face turned white and then red and then white again.
A fierce roaring filled his ears, and the bed spun beneath him.
Uncle Daniel is dead. Uncle Daniel is dead. Really and truly dead, gone where he can never find me again. What if it’s not true? What if it’s someone else they found and only think it’s him?
“Are they sure it’s him? Did you see the body, or Emily, or Sarie?” The voice sounded faint and faraway as if it weren’t really coming out of his mouth.
“Sarie identified the body this morning,” Aisling told him, holding his left hand.
“So he’s really and truly gone, like, forever?” Gort was beginning to believe it was true.
“Gone and good riddance,” Coll said sharply.
A brilliant happiness overwhelmed him, and he felt free for the first time in forever. Life could go on without constantly looking over his shoulder wondering if Uncle Daniel was hiding in the alley or waiting to grab him.
He looked up at Aisling, his happiness shining in his eyes, gently pulling on her hand he drew her toward him. Aisling leaned close without removing her eyes from his. Very gently, she kissed his swollen lips, trying to avoid the stitches and bits of sticking plaster adorning them. Gort kissed her back and tightened his grip on her hand.
“Hey now, enough of that mush, you two.” Coll broke the spell they had woven around themselves.
“Get your own woman.” His best friend scolded him.
“The only one I want is in freaking Alberta,” Coll said sourly. “Right, I should call Laurel and let her know what has been going on.” Coll brightened at the thought and left the room on the run, digging his cell phone out of his jacket.
“I thought you were dead. I thought I had lost you.” Aisling settled in the chair beside the bed and continued to hold onto his fingers like a life line. “You stopped breathing, did you know that?”
“You called me back.” His fingers squeezed hers in return. “I heard you, and I came back. For a while I really didn’t want to, but you looked up right at me and called me back. I had to come.”
“That was you, then,” Aisling breathed. “Gwin kept insisting you were there, and I should call you before it was too late. Pointing up at that corner of the roof, like I should be able to see you or something.”
“I was there and GogMagog, too. Telling me I had to choose quickly, or the fates would do it for me. But I couldn’t decide. There was so much pain there and none where I was. But you called me, and I came. I couldn’t help myself.”
“Are you sorry you came back, then?” Aisling eyes shone with tears.
“Never, Ash. I’ll come for you wherever you call me.”
“Where did you go? You kept muttering weird names after Doc gave you that shot in the shed. You kept calling me Nuina, and you called Gog by some strange sounding name. It sounded like Alim.” Aisling frowned slightly.
“I said Ailim. It means silver fir.” The answer came without him knowing where it sprang from.
“Who is Nuina?” Aisling persisted.
“She is the Lady Nuina, and I loved her in a past life.” Heat rose in his face.
“Oh,” Aisling was silent for a moment. “What did she look like, was she pretty?”
“She was very beautiful.” The words came softly, his gaze turned inward to his memories. “She looked very much like you, Ash. I think in some weird way she was you, or you are her. I don’t know Ash, it’s all kind of jumbled together in my head.” A frown creased his stitch puckered forehead.
“So you think you visited a former life that you lived before?” Aisling tipped her head quizzically.
“I did; it was. I was one of King Arthur’s knights, and I knew Lancelot and King Arthur and Queen Gwenhwyfar. You were one of her ladies-in-waiting. We were promised to each other.” His voice faltered. “It seemed like it was real, Ash.”
“Maybe it was, Gort, maybe it was. Who’s to say what is and isn’t possible,” Aisling soothed him. “I can ask Gwin Scawen if you like.”
“GogMagog was with me; that’s who I called Ailim. He can tell me if it truly happened, or if it was just a hallucination from getting beat about the head.”
“Well, that pony certainly knew you were in trouble and exactly where you were because Sarie followed his black butt straight to you.” Aisling told him. “Do you think Gog will speak to me directly one day instead of through Gwin?”
“I’m sure of it. He would talk to the Lady Nuina and her mare, so I’m sure you should be able to hear him. Ailim had a thing for Nuina’s mare Rose, quite besotted with her as I recall.” A grin crossed his face at the memory.
“Laurel says get better quick.” Coll bounded back into the room in much better humour than before. “She’s talked her parents into letting her come for a visit this summer so you’d better be well by then.”
“Oh, that so super, Coll,” Aisling squealed. “I can’t wait.”
Coll perched on the side of the bed again and folded his arms. He looked pointedly at his friends’ joined hands and grinned at them both.
“Looks as if talking to his lady love has improved someone’s temper,” Gort teased him.
“Enough of that, you,” Coll blushed. “So what happened after you left Ash at her corner? Give it up, all the gory details.”
Gort related the details including the part where Daniel beat him unconscious. He surprised Coll, but not Aisling, by smiling happily and raising Aisling’s hand to kiss it.
“Did you know the stories saying there was land once between Lands End and the Scillies are true? There really was a huge ancient forest around St. Michael’s Mount?”
The End
Laurel's Quest (The Cornwall Adventures Book 1)
Go Gently (The Cornwall Adventures Book 3)
Storm's Refuge (A Longview Romance Book 1)
The Selkie’s Song
Historical Horror
By N.M. Bell
No Absolution
About the Author
Nancy M Bell has publishing credits in poetry, fiction and non-fiction. Nancy has presented at the Surrey International Writers Conference and the Writers Guild of Alberta Conference. She loves writing fiction and poetry and following wherever her muse takes her.
Please visit her webpage http://www.nancymbell.ca
You can find her on Facebook at http://facebook.com/NancyMBell
Follow on twitter: @emilypikkasso
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