Tuesday 14 March 2017

Mamelon 2 - Epilogue

EPILOGUE



In the sitting room of their home in leafy Tonbridge Wells, Gail and Tim Wright embraced.
“You played your part well, Galia.”
“You also, my love, but Galia and Timon must be put back in the box where they belong and the lid firmly shut, as well you know.”
He laughed, “I defy anyone to put you in a box of any kind, my love.”
Gail Wright chuckled, “You haven’t made bad job of it si far.”
Tim Wright shrugged, grinning from ear to ear, “I am a Holy Seer, always up for Mission Impossible.” The young-old face assumed a more serious expression, "The children…?”
“Are safe, as well you know. They will be back, plaguing us day in and day out before we know it.” They, too, have done well,” she added with a deep sigh of maternal satisfaction.
“All your children have done well. You will want to return and get to know those you thought lost, your grandchildren too. “
“I will,” she said simply.
“If you had known they lived…?”
“Would I have run away with you like a love-sick teenager? I don’t know. I would have loved you no less, but…”
He shrugged again, “What is done is done. I, for one, have no regrets.”
“Nor I, especially given how things were at the time. As it is, I can at least return now and then…”
“Whereas I may never return,” he murmured thoughtfully.
“Even so, you did a pretty good job of contacting Peter when he needed you most.”
“I did, didn’t I?” His expression lightened. “It would seem that even a disgraced Holy Seer is permitted to make some reparation for letting his carnal desires get the better of him.”
“Of me also,” she pointed out, and they laughed together companionably although anyone within earshot might have been forgiven for detecting a hard edge to the sound.
“Bethan…” he began.
“Has made her choice although I have to say it is not one I would have made for her. What kind of life will she have in the mountains? No life at all…”
“Ah, then are things you do not know!”
“Oh?”
Bethan has chosen to make her life with Calum. I dare say they will bear you more grandchildren in due course.”
“But, she cannot. She dare not. She is a Keeper. Look what happened when there was no Keeper to guard the tomb. Ragund…”
“…has been taken care of and can work no further mischief. Keeper or no, Bethan has a mind of her own. I’d have though you of all people would admire her for that.”
“Is Etta behind this? It would be so typical of her to dissuade the girl from her duty out of some misplaced deference to Calum’s…
“Carnal desires…?”
“If you like, yes, and you may smile but this is no laughing matter, Tim. Bethan puts all Mamelon at risk just when everything has come right.”
“Her father seems to think otherwise.”
“What does Gabriel know? He sees a lovelorn daughter and wants to see her happy at any cost, that’s all.”
“Isn’t that what we all want for our children, happiness?”
“Yes, of course, but not at any cost.”
“You could well be right, as you so often are, my love. But I, for one, trust Merlin’s judgement in this matter in spite of his personal involvement.”
“Merlin…?”
“Did you really not guess?” He allowed her a longer pause before replying than he could have hoped for, she being as quick to judge at times as she could be slow to consider the implications of that judgement although he never doubted her integrity.
Gail sighed, “In my heart, perhaps, yes, with hindsight, although my head refused to believe it. Even so, Bethan…”
“…is Merlin’s daughter, and she has made her choice with his blessing. We can only assume, with Ri’s blessing also.”
“We must hope that Ragund is well and truly out of the picture then. We both know only too well that Ri’s blessing is Xu’s curse. If Ragund continues to have access to the Xaruki, anything may yet happen.”
“Be sure, Ragund is a victim of his own ambitions. He is no longer capable of working dark magic... or any magic for that matter. In the unlikely event circumstances should ever change, we will cross that bridge if and when we come to it.”
Unless it proves to be a bridge too far, mused Gail-Galia uneasily. Before she could voice her fears, however, a door burst open. Mick and Peter made their presence noisily known. “Did you enjoy your time in the woods?” she asked innocently, sharing a knowing smile with Tim.
“Is supper nearly ready? I’m starving!”  Pete neatly side-stepped the question without consciously meaning to although it was true, he was famished.
“Nearly,” Gail laughed, keenly aware that her older son was oddly quiet. Their eyes met.
In something behind his mother’s lighthearted expression, Mick sensed a certain unease. He could not put his finger on it, but it reflected his own disquiet with frightening intensity. I am imagining it, surely? The moment quickly passed, however, as both boys pretended filial indifference to their mother’s subsequent hugs.
Tim-Timon looked on, smiling, debating inwardly whether or not perhaps he should have been honest with his wife about that devil Ragund’s no longer posing any threat…
………………………..

Meanwhile, far below the bowels of the Purple Mountains, below even the rocky floor of the Sea of Marmela, on a freak platform within a Black Hole in Time, a lone Xaruki sat cross-legged waiting for The Call.
            The Xaruki looked to neither right nor left as a kikiri approached and squatted in its direct line of vision. Instantly, the Xaruki experienced a great inner disturbance.
The kikiri, in turn, experienced a sense of rapport with the Xaruki, vague and inarticulate but sufficient to suppose that, from it, some form of communication may yet be established. …
For now, the kikiri that had once been Ragund, the Dark Mage, was content to bide its time until the Xaruki fully awoke to its presence and a process of reciprocal manipulation could begin towards a mutually acceptable end.
Although necessarily drained of its senses and all flesh ripped away, the kikiri was unique among its kind. As such, it was not (quite) beyond all feeling, and what remained of that screamed revenge with a deafening silence; it penetrated the Xaruki’s husk, stirring a long forgotten knowledge of The Dark to an, oh, so-faint, and, oh, so-distant, yet, oh, so promising reawakening….

The End

[Note: Book Three of the Mamelon saga is in the planning stages under the (working) title of ‘Merlin’s Daughter’.]

                       







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