Chapter 33
‘We move at dawn,’ announced Aganippus as he joined Cordelia in the roundhouse they had been allocated by Kamber.
‘I shall accompany you,’ she said in a tone of such fierceness, Aganippus took a step backwards.
‘And if I were to forbid it?’ he asked.
‘I would ignore you,’ she replied.
Aganippus looked anguished. ‘The battle will be brutal and the wind is whipping up into a storm,’ he said. ‘How will I be able to protect you?’
‘You won’t,’ she replied, ‘but, equally, how will I protect you?’
‘You can’t,’ he said. ‘Cordelia, it will be wet and cold, people will die.’
‘Exactly, it’s a battle and I will ride beside my husband and my father,’ she said. ‘Fa trained us to bear arms, but if things become fiercer than my skills warrant, I shall retreat.’
‘You promise?’
‘Nest will not be an orphan,’ she said.
Aganippus stared at her contemplatively. ‘You’re an extraordinary woman Cordelia Leardohtor.’
‘Actually,’ she replied, her eyes alight with mischief as she slipped her tunic from her shoulders, ‘I am Queen of Gallia and deserve to be treated with the respect such a position deserves.’
He raised his eyebrows in surprise and began unlacing his own tunic before sweeping her into his arms and carrying her to their bed. ‘Your majesty, I’ll do my best to show you such respect,’ he said as she giggled into his shoulder.
Cordelia was glad of the darkness and the distraction of her husband’s touch because in her heart was fear at the potential devastation she believed would follow on the battlefield.
Each day since they had left Gallia, the vision of her father standing above her, his face full of bloodlust, wielding a sword, had been intensifying.
Was this her path? To die at her father’s hands?
The thought haunted her, but she had to know: were her visions and their interpretation correct or was there more?
Despite the horror of her father’s madness, she did not believe he could kill her.
Was this the catastrophe that led to the quest in the Everywhen, the terrible shadow path, the second part of Angarad’s curse: As punishment for your disrespect of the feminine, you will bear the greatest of all pain, one of such magnitude your mind will shatter into dust for all eternity.
Were the souls of Gloigin, Ignogin and Oudar to wander the passages of the spirit plane while their father absorbed the pain of all lost love?
Would her death be the beginning of the journey or the end?
She was prepared to sacrifice herself if it were to free her sisters, all of them, and their father.
But, she thought, as she curled into Aganippus’s arms, what of Goneril and Regan? Could they be saved from themselves, from the curse? She was unsure; both had displayed such violence, were they even the same women she remembered?
Cordelia breathed deeply as Angarad had taught her during her early days as a neophyte in the temple, calming her teeming mind, reaching for sleep, but as the darkness enfolded her, her mind slipping into unconsciousness, there was a panicked shout from outside.
‘Lear! He’s gone!’
The drumbeat echoed through the hill fort as the alarm was raised.
Aganippus leapt out of bed, pulling on his tunic and trousers.
Cordelia reached for the clothes she had laid out for the battle, a smaller version of the male tunic and trousers, with a heavy leather jerkin to protect her.
She pulled on her boots and wound her hair into a plait as she raced after her husband.
Voices and confusion rose above the sound of the drum, but when it stopped, the roar of the wind filled the void of silence.
Lagon stood in the centre of the oppidum, supporting his father.
They spoke urgently to Kamber, gesticulating towards the narrow passage that led to the back entrance of the fort.
People were emerging from roundhouses and the many animal-hide bivouacs scattered around the oppidum.
As the crowd grew, each bringing more lights, they created a circle of fire with their flaming torches.
‘What’s happened?’ demanded Aganippus, pushing his way through the gathering crowd towards Lagon and Kamber.
‘We are undone!’ howled Locrinus in misery. ‘Lear’s madness has returned.’
Cordelia felt a cold terror grip her heart.
‘Tell us!’ she demanded, taking Locrinus by the arm.
‘We were sitting in the roundhouse, talking about our youth, our children, our loves, then the conversation turned and we ran through the plans for the battle tomorrow, discussing our strategy. We were about to prepare for sleep when he began to sing.’
‘To sing?’ said Cordelia in bemusement.
‘Yes, the words, “Poor Lear, poor Lear, they have taken what is mine and I shall have it returned” over and over again in a low, flat monotone, faster and faster until the words no longer made sense. I tried to speak to him, to soothe his mind, but he became agitated, pacing around the room, then, suddenly, he announced he was tired. The bed creaked and he became quiet. I was relieved and hoped he had fallen asleep. A slumber overcame me, but I awoke with a start and realised there was no sound beside me of breathing. My hearing is more acute since my sight has been taken,’ he explained.
‘I called for Lagon but when he emerged from his quarters, he discovered our roundhouse was empty. When I believed Lear slept, he had tricked me, he had left.’
Above them, lightning forked the sky and thunder roared, the wind whipped through the trees, the branches rattling like bones and the storm broke over their heads, the rain lashing in icy torrents.
‘We must find him!’ shouted Cordelia. ‘He is a danger to himself.’
Kamber began shouting instructions.
Cordelia caught Aganippus by the hand, called to Lagon and headed for the narrow back entrance to the fort.
‘He must have used this exit,’ she said. ‘He’s an old man, he can’t have gone far.’
Above and below them, they saw the search parties spreading out in long lines, torches guttering in the deluge, calling his name, travelling further and further from the hill fort.
Cordelia walked the paths behind the hill fort with Aganippus and Lagon, their voices snatched by the cackling wind as they shouted for Lear.
‘This is a madness all its own!’ Cordelia shouted to her husband as she shook her wet hair from her eyes. ‘He will have died from the cold before we find him. Let me reach him in the Everywhen and ask him to show me where he is in this plane.’
‘Are you able?’ said Aganippus.
‘I can try,’ she replied and looked around the unfamiliar landscape for a suitable place to enter the Everywhen. ‘Over there, the oak tree will offer me sanctuary.’
Cordelia ran towards the small copse around the ancient tree. Its branches, nearly bare from the autumn storms, offered scant protection from the rain.
‘What shall we do?’ shouted Aganippus over the storm.
‘Protect me while I’m walking,’ she replied.
‘I’ll show you,’ Lagon said to Aganippus, standing beside Cordelia, his arms outstretched but not touching her, ready to catch her if she fell.
As Cordelia faced the tree, Aganippus took up a position on her other side and Cordelia closed her eyes.
She offered a prayer to the mother goddess and to the soul of the oak itself, asking for permission to use it as an entrance to another plane.
A whisper of milder air surrounded her and she knew her prayers had been answered.
With great reverence, she placed her hands on the roughened trunk.
‘With thanks and rejoicing I ask you mighty oak to connect me to the earth. Matronae, the Mother Goddess, hear my prayer. Corycia, Kleodora, Melaina, the Bee Maidens Three, show me the path to my father so I may bring him home safely,’ she intoned.
‘Show me the way to heal these wounds and save my father and my sisters.’
The howling of the wind ceased and Cordelia saw her rook spirit guide standing before her.
The creature blinked twice and bowed before flying down a twisted, wooded path.
Cordelia followed and as she rounded a corner, she saw the tree where she stood in the mortal plane.
A light glowed, illuminating a track through the woods.
It sloped downwards to a clearing, where huge chalky white stones formed a natural ring.
Her father strode around the circle, shouting, threatening, waving his sword aloft but Cordelia could see no other person: was her father talking to the stones as though they were people or were there movements in the shadows?
Above her, there was flash of lightning and Cordelia was back in the storm, her clothes sodden, her teeth chattering with cold but her heart determined.
‘This way!’ she shouted and Aganippus followed, while Lagon shouted to the other searchers.
‘Fa!’ screamed Cordelia through the storm, outstripping the men as she raced down the slope, swerving branches, jumping over rabbit holes, shouting her father’s name, driven by a primal urge to protect, to save. ‘Fa, can you hear me?’
All around her, men shouted his name, sheathed swords clanging against axes strung on belts as their owners ran in her wake, the noise resembling a battle.
‘There!’ Cordelia yelled as the glowing white of the natural stone ring appeared, ‘Fa! King Lear!’
She raced into the circle, calling his name.
‘Fa, I’m here!’ she shouted and he turned, his eyes lucid but livid with fear at the sight of her.
‘No!’ he screeched. ‘Not here, not you, not now! They will kill you.’
He raised his sword and as he did, she skidded, landing on her back in the mud.
‘You shall not take her too!’ her father screamed and as he raised his sword, she saw the truth.
Maglaurus had been in the shadows behind her and he was running towards her prone figure.
‘She is mine!’ screamed Lear in a frenzy as he brought down the sword again and again.
Cordelia curled into a ball, waiting for the pain, but none came. Instead, Maglaurus screamed and there was a heavy thud beside her before her father’s fingers reached for her.
‘Cordelia,’ he gasped. ‘You live, it is the chance which does redeem all sorrows.’
‘Fa, watch out!’ she screamed, pulling her father to one side as Henwinus, teeth bared, sword raised, ran from the other side of the stone circle, but before he could reach them, his legs buckled and a sword point erupted through his chest, spraying blood and sinew into the falling rain.
‘Leave her!’ screamed Aganippus, throwing his full force behind his sword as he cut Henwinus down. ‘She is my wife and you will not have her.’
Cordelia pulled her father’s trembling body into her arms, then the strong grip of her husband enveloped them both as Aganippus pulled her to her feet. Lagon supported Lear while Aganippus embraced Cordelia.
‘My love, my love,’ he whispered as he held her so tightly she thought he would squeeze the life from her.
A tentative hand touched her shoulder and Aganippus released her to the battered old man, her father.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, tears mixing with blood, mud and rain on his cheeks. ‘My love for you never wavered.’
‘Nor mine for you,’ she whispered as father and daughter embraced.