The Touching of Souls: The Ghost Runner Series Book 3

By Robin E Freeman

It is the fourteenth century, and after finding the survivors who have been taken from their island home and sold into slavery to a Sultan’s son in a far distant realm, Avalon is critically wounded in a fierce battle. His poisoned wounds leave him in a deep coma.

While waiting for Avalon to recover, Genevieve and Ameliana purchase the slaves’ freedom and prepare the Ghost Runner for the upcoming voyage to return the islanders to their ancestral lands so they can rebuild their lives.

The sorcerer Caligastia follows them on their journey on his black-sailed ship using a homing device, a pyramid-shaped crystal that was hidden in the hold of Ghost Runner, but when it was discovered and jettisoned over the side, it implodes in the ocean’s deep depths with such catastrophic force it caused a massive tidal wave.

Upon reaching the islanders’ archipelago, they set about the laborious task of rebuilding the derelict town. Both of Avalon’s wives, who are soon due to give birth, decide to take Ghost Runner to the neighboring archipelago where bird life abounds and turtles lay their eggs on a small sandy quay. The egg hunt is ill-fated when a hurricane appears over the horizon. Not wanting to be surrounded by dangerous reef inside the lagoon when the storm hits, Genevieve decides to sail Ghost Runner back to the safety of their home anchorage but with disastrous results.

Ten years came and went on their island paradise when, early one morning, a tsunami sweeps across the archipelago and in minutes destroys all they knew and love as they are swept out to sea amongst the debris. Fate intervenes when they are plucked from the storm-tossed and littered ocean by the one man who can lead them back to Avalon’s homeland thousands of miles to the east.

After many adventures of sailing through the hurricane season to take advantage of favorable winds to blow them thousands of miles to the east, they arrive at their destination and leave their beloved schooner to travel overland for many months on horseback into the formidable and distant Alps. The expedition is fraught with danger as snow leopards stalk and attack the horses. Not only do they have to contend with snow leopards, wolf packs, treacherous snow-covered trails, and precipitous ravines in the rugged Alps, but a relentless enemy is lying in wait to ambush them to ensure they never reach the kingdom of Nebadon.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: Jun 4, 2019
• ISBN: 9781796003055

Book preview

The Touching

of Souls

The Ghost Runner Series Book 3

Robin E Freeman

Copyright © 2019 by Robin E Freeman.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2019906114

ISBN:      Hardcover      978-1-7960-0307-9

                Softcover        978-1-7960-0306-2

                eBook             978-1-7960-0305-5

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 05/27/2019

Xlibris

1-800-455-039

www.Xlibris.com.au

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I would like to

dedicate this book to my loving mother Dorothy who has always been there for me and is my greatest supporter.

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D uring his

perilous decent in the lift-box Asmin shed himself of his heavy waterproof cloak, weapons, boots and shirt and now stood shivering in his pantaloons as the cold, gale force wind howled and screamed around him, sending the lift swinging from side to side in a wide arc like a wind blown leaf.

Thunder boomed repeatedly and he involuntarily flinched every time at the explosion of deafening sound. As the lift again crashed into the granite cliff with shocking force he hung on grimly to the handrails, half expecting the support ropes to part at any moment and send him plummeting to his death on the rocks below.

By the time the lift stopped near the base of the cliff where the waves were pounding themselves into oblivion against the rocks with a mighty roar, he was bruised, battered and bleeding from several deep gashes where he had been thrown against the wall of the lift when he had been violently wrenched from his handhold. He was normally fearless in the face of adversity, but the descent had shaken him badly and he was not looking forward to the return ascension up the cliff face, let alone the swim out to the white ship in the horrendous seas to fetch the healer, Ameliana.

Looking out through the wide gaps in the plank wall of the lift, he saw that the small sandy beach was obliterated under the pounding waves and knew he would have to jump from the madly swinging lift onto the ledge, before diving into the breaking waves and swimming for his life to avoid being sucked back onto the jagged rocks below.

Taking a deep breath he steeled himself and with great difficulty opened the door. As soon as the wind caught it, the heavily reinforced door was plucked from his grip and thrown open with a crash of splintering timbers.

Hanging on tight to the handrails, he looked down into the foaming, turbulent seas and the sight of the dangerous conditions made him blanch, but he knew he could not disobey his mistress. Taking a deep breath he nimbly jumped onto the ledge and landed on all fours like a cat. He knew from long experience that the waves usually came in sets of four or five and there was always a brief respite before they rolled in again, so he stood waiting for the break in the roaring waves with his heart hammering in his chest. When it came he said a quick prayer and before he changed his mind dived headlong into the swirling white-water on the back of the retreating wave.

He was hoping the receding wave would carry him clear of the oyster covered rocks just below the foaming surface and out into deeper water before the next set of waves surged in.

As the cold water closed over him in a smothering embrace, he felt something scrape against his right foot and there was a flare of sharp pain, but he dare not stop to inspect his foot or he would be courting disaster so he kept swimming underwater for dear life.

Stars eventually began to dance before his eyes and his craving for air became acute before he struck out for the surface. When his head broke through the water he greedily gulped a lung full of air before swimming strongly away from the cliff.

The break between the set of waves would only be about fifteen seconds, and he had mentally been counting down the seconds. It was the longest fifteen seconds of his life as he swam furiously trying to get beyond the dangerous pull and suck of the next wave.

When he felt his body beginning to rise sharply he knew the first of the waves was upon him and he swam as if the demons from hell were close upon his heels. Up and up he went and he felt as if he was swimming towards the sky above, until all of a sudden he reached the crest, and shooting over the top began to body surf down the back of the monster wave as it began to curl and break. He could feel the deadly suck just behind him, but he kicked harder and thrashed at the water with all his strength.

Two more waves came and went in quick succession, and after they had passed without breaking upon him he decided to stop for a moment and risk looking around to get his bearings. He was intensely relieved to see he had reached the back of the waves and was now in deep and safer water.

He trod water as he looked over his shoulder and for a brief moment saw the white ship in the driving rain before the next rising wall of water blocked it from his view. Taking a deep breath he struck out.

Asmin did not realise that he was leaving a trail of blood in the water from the gashes he had suffered in the wildly swinging lift and from the deep laceration his foot had sustained from brushing against the oysters covering the rocks at the base of the cliff. The blood quickly dispersed in the turbulent water with the currents spreading it far and wide, a sure attractant to any predator of the ocean.

The olfactory glands of a nearby eight foot shark cruising along the edge of the drop-off picked up the scent of fresh blood, and in the blink of an eye it turned to follow the tantalizing smell to its source. Its slow, aimless glide through the water of just moments before was now full of deadly intent as it effortlessly increased speed with stronger flicks of its massive tail. The shark’s voracious appetite was never appeased and it was forever questing for its next meal, so when its keen senses detected vibrations of something thrashing on the surface of the water ahead its pectoral fins angled down into attack mode and it surged ahead at incredible speed.

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A meliana had been feeling agitated and unsettled for no particular reason and she couldn’t put her finger on it. A deep sense of foreboding had made her more apprehensive as the morning wore on and she kept thinking about Avalon and wondered time and again if all was well with him and Genevieve on shore.

Earlier she and Sarina had been observing a change in the clouds and they knew from experience that a storm was brewing somewhere. At first they were not unduly concerned as a storm could go in any direction, but later they saw an ominous black storm front rise up over the distant horizon like a lurking beast and quickly began to fill the sky.

She and Sarina had sat watching the front for another fifteen minutes, and when they saw it was definitely making a beeline towards the anchorage they grabbed up the many cushions and padded seats in the cockpit and took them below deck. Ameliana then fetched Seagle and carried him below to his other perch beside the companionway steps, and once his leather thonging was secured to his stand she set off to help Sarina shut and lock the hatches and portholes before the approaching storm struck. Once the lower deck was secured, they grabbed their foul-weather coats in passing from the pegs beside the companionway steps and after putting them on went topsides to make everything more secure. They had then split up and while Sarina went towards the stern, Ameliana went forward checking and tying down anything that could be blown over the side or come loose during the storm, and ensured the lashings on the sails were double-tied.

Upon reaching the bow Ameliana had then checked the anchor chain and windlass to make sure all was in order, and once she was assured all was as it should be, she had looked up to check on the storm. She was disconcerted to see that the inky-black, swirling clouds were already overhead and could see the fast approaching storm front was now only a quarter of a mile away whipping up white caps as it bore down on the ship. From the direction of the wind she knew Ghost Runner would be on a lee-shore and she frowned in consternation. The rain was also bearing down on the ship in a wall of grey water behind the wind whipped sea and she frowned as she pulled her hood closer.

They came together in the cockpit and sat side by side holding hands in awed silence while looking at the intimidating looking storm front racing towards the ship.

Before the storm struck, Ameliana looked shore-wards through the telescope hoping to see her travelling companions returning down the cliff face in the lift, but the tiny box remained at the top of the cliff.

At about the same moment in time as the storm struck the ship with a vengeance and Ghost Runner heeled before the onslaught, Avalon received his mortal blow with the poisoned sword blade. His anguished cry to Genevieve also caused Ameliana to quickly stand, and her eyes went wide with fright and a cold hand seemed to grip her heart.

In her mind’s eye she saw Avalon wounded and bleeding, clutching his midriff as he leaned up against a wall. She felt his pain, a searing white-hot pain like none-other, and she cried out. Rushing to the ship’s gunwale she hung on tight against the force of the strong wind lashing at her as she stared towards shore. But there was no sign of the cliffs as the driving rain had obliterated the island completely. She knew that if Avalon did need her, there was nothing she could do with the storm growing in intensity.

She returned to the cockpit and huddled down into the corner of the seat with her back to the gale force wind and driving rain. The awning above them flapped and strained at its securing ropes, but at least it gave them some protection from the full force of the storm.

Ameliana lost track of time as her concerns for Avalon mounted and the storm intensified around them. She had earlier been listening to the approach of distant thunder, and when it was directly overhead and seemingly just above the masts, each and every powerful crash and boom would startle her with a spastic jerk even though she tried to prepare herself for the next one. She snuggled down further into the cosy warmth of her oilskin coat and tried to ignore the occasional drips of cold water running down inside the collar of her coat which eventually began to soak her clothing.

They kept looking shore-wards hoping the rain would disperse long enough to be able to see the cliff and ascertain if the ship was still in position, and also to see if the lift was on its way down.

When there was a break in the driving rain Ameliana snatched up the telescope from the seat beside her and scanned the cliff in search of the lift. It took her a moment to bring the telescope into focus, but when she saw the tiny box hanging suspended at the base of the cliff she cried out in jubilation and quickly jumping to her feet cried out, They are coming back to the ship. We must get the tender ready to row ashore.

They hurried to the side of the ship and nimbly climbed down the boarding ladder and into the tender which was still tied alongside and banging up against the fenders. Because of the large fetch across the wide bay, the waves rolling past were steep and close together and they had to quickly sit down on the seat or risk losing their balance. The tender was already a quarter full of water swishing around and Sarina grabbed hold of the baling bucket from under the seat and began to cast the water over the side while hanging on with her free hand to steady herself.

With the torrential rain the tender seemed to fill up as quickly as she baled, but bailing faster she gradually began to gain on it. When there was just an inch of water sloshing in the bilge she gave up as she had visions of Genevieve and Avalon waiting impatiently for them to come and collect them.

While Sarina was frantically baling, the Princess had readied both oars and once that was done she pulled the small brass hand-bearing compass from her pocket and took a bearing on the lift before the next squall of driving rain obscured it from sight.

When they were ready Sarina released the tender’s warp ropes securing it to Ghost Runner and pushed off from the ship’s side. Regaining her seat they began rowing in unison towards shore.

Ameliana kept the compass on the seat beside her and constantly checked it to ensure they were rowing in the right direction, for the sea was rough and wild and constantly throwing the tender off course. Some of the bigger waves would effortlessly pick up the tender and they would begin surfing down the face of the wave, and they found it almost impossible to steer with the oars.

Ameliana could hear the roar of the surf striking the cliffs getting louder, and knew they were getting close to shore when she heard a strangled cry that sounded different to the sea-birds inhabiting the nests hanging precariously on the cliff face. The sound made the skin on her forearms pucker in tiny goose bumps and the fine hairs on her neck prickled and stood erect.

Did you hear that cry, she shouted to Sarina to make herself heard above the cacophony of roaring noise.

They stopped rowing, and looking over their shoulders were shocked to see someone in the water not far ahead swimming frantically in their direction. They were then horrified to see the dorsal fin of a large shark cutting through the water towards the swimmer. At first they thought it was Avalon, but as the shark circled the person turned in the water to follow the shark with his eyes and they saw it was a dark skinned stranger. They immediately began rowing as hard and fast as they could, trying to bridge the gap between the tender and the man before the shark attacked.

Ameliana kept looking over her shoulder to make sure they were still rowing in the right direction and saw that they were now only fifteen feet from the man. She shouted to Sarina, Slow down Sarina. We are getting close now and don’t want to ram him with the tender.

They then heard a terrible scream, and when they twisted around on the seat they were horror-struck to see the man’s upper torso was being pushed half out of the water. The sea was churned in an agitated frenzy all about him and crimson blood quickly clouded the water in an ever widening circle.

Ameliana screamed out, Hold on. We’re coming. Under her breath she then said, ‘Get away from him you filthy beast.’

As they drew closer they saw the poor, hapless man’s upper body was being thrown from side to side like a rag doll as the shark savaged his legs below the surface in a mindless frenzy. But it was the man’s expression that would stay firmly etched in their minds for a long, long time to come. An expression of pure and unadulterated terror, and his mouth was open wide in a silent scream of shock and pain, his eyes bulging obscenely.

Coming alongside they quickly stowed their oars and together reached down and grabbed hold of the man’s flailing arms. Bracing their feet against the hull they then pulled for all they were worth. The shark thrashed and twisted about as it hung on grimly to its bloody prize, and a tug of war ensued between the two women and the predator of the deep. Water suddenly began slopping over the side and the tender was on the point of capsizing, but they kept pulling in their life or death struggle.

Suddenly the terrible strain was gone as the shark let go and they nearly fell over backwards. They didn’t let go of his arms though, and quickly getting their balance again dragged the man up against the side of the tender. As they began to bodily pull the man up out of the bloody water the shark attacked again. Another tug of war began and they struggled and strained, both women grunting with the effort until they suddenly fell back into the water swishing around in the bilge, and in so doing pulled the man into the tender on top of them. As they clambered to their feet they were horrified and shocked senseless to see that the man’s legs were gone from the knees down. The bloody, shredded stumps were pumping blood into the bilge water, and there were shreds of meat and flaps of skin floating about grotesquely.

Ameliana knew he would die unless she could somehow stop the flow of blood and was in the process of quickly removing her belt when the man suddenly spoke. They both looked at him in surprise, for not only did he speak their language quite fluently, but his voice sounded calm and composed, Urgent message. Sir Avalon poisoned. Dying. Come quickly. Bring medicine and green stone.

He then closed his eyes and with a deep sigh the life-force slowly left him as he died from the shock of his horrific injuries and extreme blood loss. Not knowing what else to do with the body, they agreed to bury the poor man at sea. Gently lifting his corpse, they slipped it over the side and watched in silence as the body sunk below the surface into its watery grave. They were then aghast to see the dark shadow of the shark appear and strike at the body, and in a blur of speed it dived into the depths and disappeared with the corpse.

Ameliana shook her head and wiped away the tears that were coursing down her cheeks unchecked, mingling with the rain which was still lashing at them almost horizontally. Suddenly the man’s words sank into her consciousness and her eyes flew wide as she cried out, Oh god, Avalon. Noooo. Quickly, we must return to the ship for my medicines.

While the Princess took up the oars and began to row back to the ship, away from the treacherous rocks and surf which now sounded ominously close, Sarina bailed the tender frantically, for with so much bloodied water sloshing around in the half-submerged tender it was extremely unstable in the heavy seas.

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G enevieve fretted and worried herself almost sick as she sat on the cot beside Avalon. He still looked more dead than alive and seemed to be slipping further away from her as he fell deeper into a coma. She didn’t know how many times she had held the small mirror up to his lips to see if he was still breathing, but every time she did so his faint breath would cloud the glassy surface and she would sit back sighing with relief.

The silk curtain over the doorway suddenly rustled and she looked up expectantly hoping to see Ameliana entering the room with her medicines, but she was to be disappointed yet again for it was only the wind from the storm raging outside blowing the material about. She wondered if the Princess was even aware of Avalon’s predicament, for with the gale-force wind it would be virtually impossible for anyone to get a message out to Ghost Runner. She had bitten her fingernails down to the quick in the first hour of fretting, and nothing Lyndreith could do or say could ease her anguish and distress.

On the periphery of her vision Genevieve saw the curtain move and she tried to resist the impulse to look up again, but after a moment she looked across and there, standing in the doorway was Ameliana, wet and bedraggled, dripping with water and covered in horrible looking bleeding scratches and cuts which looked worse than they were against her ebony skin. She was clutching her waterproof medicine bag to her chest and looking from patient to patient searching for Avalon. When her eyes finally connected with Genevieve she hurried towards her with a deep frown and worried expression.

Jumping up, Genevieve ran towards her and they came together half way across the room. They both had tears in their eyes as they embraced tightly.

Parting they hurried across to Avalon’s bed and Genevieve said with a catch in her voice, I am so relieved to see you Princess. Avalon has been grievously wounded by a poisoned sword and is on deaths door.

Ameliana frowned and looking down was appalled to see Avalon’s pale, lifeless face. She quickly knelt beside the cot and taking up his limp hand felt for a pulse at his wrist.

Feeling no discernible pulse Ameliana exclaimed before saying in a whisper, Oh no, am I too late? Is, is Avalon dead?

Choking back her sobs Genevieve replied, No. You are not too late. He is still alive, but only by a slim thread. Nothing the physician has been able to do has been able to counteract the poison. He even tried bleeding him in the hope that the poison would find an outlet and escape his body, but to no avail. I have been expecting you for hours. You have to save him Princess or I will surely die without him.

Ameliana felt for a pulse on his carotid artery and hope soared within her when she felt blood pumping through the artery, but the pulse was faint, very faint. Wasting no more time she placed her large oil-skin wrapped bundle upon the nearby table and untied the fastenings which helped to keep it tightly bound together and waterproof. As she worked she said, I came as fast as I could once I received the message. But it is still blowing a gale outside and the seas are horrendous. I sent Sarina back to the ship with the tender to keep an eye on Ghost Runner, and I just hope and pray the anchor doesn’t drag as there will be nothing she can do by herself. The beach is under water and being pounded by huge seas and it is a miracle I survived the swim, let alone that ghastly lift up the cliff face. It must have been swinging in an arc of twenty feet. I’m sure I will grow many grey hairs from that experience.

What she didn’t mention was the battering she had sustained when the waves had bashed her cruelly against the rocks at the base of the cliff, but she had held her medicine bag before her and it had taken the brunt of the collision. With great difficulty she had grabbed onto the doorjamb of the box that had been lowered enough for her to clamber into. She had felt the sting and pain from many cuts and scratches, and was horrified to see the blood running down her legs and arms in a kaleidoscope of crimson. On closer inspection she found they were mostly superficial and none would need stitches for which she was extremely grateful.

Ameliana opened her bag of medicines and began laying out the silk drawstring bags upon the table. The man who had sacrificed his life to tell her of Avalon’s dilemma hadn’t told her what ailed Avalon other than he had been poisoned, so she had brought all of her many herbs, potions, poultices and ointments for fear of not bringing what she would need to help save Avalon. She had also brought the green healing stone with her.

Ameliana gently unwrapped the dressings from Avalon’s wound and gasped when she saw the angry red veins beneath the skin branching out in all directions like tree roots and looking like nothing she had ever seen before. She was horrified at what she saw and what the insidious poison was doing to the love of her life. She then put her face close to the open wound and gently sniffed the raw opening. She was smelling for any telltale odours that might give her an inkling of the poison that had been used and also if infection was setting in.

She ignored the smell of the healing ointments the physician had used and sniffed again and again until she eventually detected a familiar, but very faint aroma. She then knew what herbs she would need to counteract the poison coursing through his blood and to also help strengthen Avalon’s body from within. When the special herbs were placed in her small stone mortar, she began to grind and blend them together with the club shaped pestle. Once she was satisfied they were thoroughly blended and had become one she then added a thick cordial made from wheat grass juice.

She then looked across at Genevieve and whispered, Help me raise him so we don’t waste any of this medicine. He must drink it all for the potion to begin working properly.

Together they supported him one on either side, and Genevieve had to fight the urge not to burst into tears when she felt his cold, clammy skin against hers, for it felt like the touch of a corpse.

It was a long, tedious task trying to get Avalon to drink the potion through slack, lifeless lips, and Ameliana had to gently massage his throat to make the medicine slide down his throat without choking him. As soon as any of it dribbled from his lips Ameliana was quick to scoop it up with her spoon before it was lost in his beard.

When Avalon had finally ingested it all after several choking spasms, they gently laid his head back on the pillow with a sigh of relief.

Looking closer Genevieve thought she could see a faint, barely perceptible flush of colour in his cheeks and she felt a glimmer of hope.

Ameliana then made up a poultice using ingredients that would help to draw out the poison inside the wound, and she added herbs that would kill any germs from the bloody blade that had stabbed him. Once the poultice was packed into the gaping sword slash she then placed the mixture over the wound before covering it with a fresh dressing to keep flies and air-born dust from the gash.

Ameliana took his pulse again, and as weak as it was she thought it seemed marginally stronger than before, but she knew she could also be imagining it. Turning to Genevieve she said, I will now try to heal him with the healing stone, but after that we will just have to let mother-nature take its course and watch him closely for any signs of infection setting in. I will give him another stronger dose of medicine in three hours and we will see if there is any further improvement. So please, stop worrying Genevieve. It will do Avalon no good to feel your fear and distress.

She whispered, You are right of course Princess. But it is hard to remain positive with him looking like this. She smiled bravely and continued, I don’t know what we would do without you Ameliana, and again we are in your debt.

Nonsense, if anything I am in your debt for letting me share your lives and loving me as you both do. I have never in all my life felt so loved and wanted, and you both make me feel whole and complete. Together we will get through this trying time and we will win through, but we must be strong for Avalon’s sake.

Ameliana placed the healing stone over the wound for the next hour and said special prayers known only to her and the old Priestess who had taught her. When she was done they held hands over Avalon’s inert body, and together prayed silently, as they knew that the power of prayer was a miracle in itself.

From his cot nearby Geprahim had watched on in awe at the competence and skill of the ebony skinned Princess as she worked, and in his mind he said a prayer to Allah to save his new friend.

His head wound had been inflicted when he was hard pressed fighting five assassins who were intent on killing him and he had tripped and fallen over one of the dead assassins lying at his feet, and in falling he had hit his head a glancing blow on the edge of a marble table which knocked him unconscious. He’d heard that if it hadn’t been for his faithful soldiers coming to his aid just then and standing over his inert body to defend him, he wouldn’t have lived to see another day.

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D eep in Avalon’s mind he felt something begin to tug and pull at him. Awareness began to bring him back from the long downward spiral into the black, bottomless abyss where the bright white light in the very centre of the blackness had been getting steadily closer and more blinding. Feeling a tugging resistance he slowly looked over his shoulder and saw a cobweb thin, gossamer silver thread trailing behind him as if it was attached to him somehow. He resisted with all his might as he strained toward the white, hypnotic light with a vaguely seen figure in the centre who made him feel sublimely peaceful. Behind him there was only excruciating pain and confusion waiting to consume him.

As the feeling of peace and serenity from the white light slipped further away, he fought harder against the thread that seemed to be pulling him back into a world of pain. He then began to feel pressure all around him, an incredible strain, and in the deepest part of his memories it felt similar to the sensation of being born, down the dark, clinging tunnel of the birthing canal once again. Again he resisted as he fought his silent struggle, but it was in vain, for the white light receded further into the distance. He tried to cry out in protest, but no sound was forthcoming, just more unbearable pressure and the beginning of the pain he had so thankfully left behind, seemingly a lifetime ago.

He began to hear distant, muted sounds, and tried to make out what the noises were and where they were coming from, but they were illusive and faint. By concentrating he heard words but they were jumbled together and made no sense. Then the darkness and oblivion consumed him once more and with a grateful sigh the pain, restriction, and confusion were gone as he fell into a deep, restful sleep.

Ameliana’s antitoxin was slowly reversing the toxic poisons in Avalon’s system, but the virulent poison had taken its toll on the very structure of his cells and vital organs, and the damage was going to take a long time to repair and heal, if indeed he was to ever fully recover.

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T he gale-force storm eventually abated leaving wide spread destruction on the island. Ghost Runners anchor had held firm to the rocky seabed and she was none the worse from the wild weather. But it didn’t concern Ameliana or Genevieve for they were too busy attending to Avalon’s needs. They worked in shifts so that he was never left alone and it was all very stressful for them, particularly when he fouled himself.

The long hours turned into days, and then weeks passed by in a blur as he lay unmoving and in a death-like coma oblivious to Genevieve and Ameliana’s ministrations and attentive care.

With great difficulty they fed him nourishing broth, kept fluids up to his body lest he become dehydrated, as well as administering doses of the special herbal medicines three times a day that he needed to return his health. They bathed him daily, and the task was made more difficult as he was so limp and heavy. They also massaged him all over to keep his blood circulating and exercised his limbs to stop his muscles atrophying.

Ameliana knew that nature had to take its course and it could take a long time before he returned from the dark places in his mind, for she had seen similar cases of poisoning and knew it was going to be a trial by ordeal. She not only fussed and worried over Avalon, but also had to keep a careful eye on Genevieve, for she had lost a lot of weight since he was struck down, and she now had dark circles under her eyes making her look haunted and sick. Ameliana had also prepared a special concoction of herbs to help revitalize Genevieve and keep her healthy, for her constant worrying over Avalon and lack of deep, restful sleep was taking its toll.

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S eagle had taken to roosting in a large dead tree near the palace where he had an uninterrupted view through the open window and could see his friend Avalon. Sometimes he would alight on the balcony balustrade outside Avalon’s room, and tilting his head from side to side peer through the open door as his friend lay on the bed without moving or acknowledging the raptor. Seagle would croon and make soft noises as if he understood that he was not well. Every day he would see Genevieve or Ameliana taking their daily walks along the cliff face, and he would glide down with the wind beneath his enormous, outstretched wings and hover five or six feet above their heads and accompany them.

Ameliana had to force Genevieve to take her walks, but she never stayed away from Avalon for very long in case he awoke and needed her. She particularly liked the solitude of the extensive landscaped gardens within the palace compound where the flowering plants, fragrant frangipani trees, and crimson bougainvillea vines would brighten her walk with colour and heady scents.

Day in and day out Avalon lay as though dead, neither moving nor opening his eyes, and if it wasn’t for the pink, healthy flush on his cheeks, Genevieve would have given in to despair. She prayed constantly for God to return him from the nether world and make him better again, but as the weeks slipped by and there was no change for the better, she began to question her faith in God and wondered time and again if he was even hearing her prayers. She had lost count of the times she had cried herself to sleep, and awoken from dreadful nightmares with Avalon dead in her arms.

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G eprahim had fully recovered from his head injury and his other superficial wounds, and he and Lyndreith couldn’t do enough for their guests. They were daily visitors to the private room where Avalon had been moved to, and they had put the palace servants and the entire garrison at their guest’s disposal. His new room overlooked the sea on the top floor of the palace, and it had its own balcony. The sea breeze blew in through the open doors and arched windows, sweetening and cooling the humid air in the room. They always came to Avalon’s room bearing gifts, be it platters of freshly picked fruit, bowls of ripe purple figs, bunches of dark sweet grapes, or a talisman from the local Shaman to ward off bad spirits, and spells to help the healing process.

One morning a week after Avalon had been struck down they had brought rather good news. They told Genevieve that if she wished, the servant Yaweh could be temporarily relieved from his present duties and made available to be questioned, as he would be the most likely to know the full history of his people.

It was just the sort of distraction Genevieve needed to take her mind off Avalon for a while, and she agreed to their kind offer. It was soon arranged and the next day Genevieve set off with Lyndreith to talk to Yaweh.

They walked side by side down a broad, marble-tiled passageway with four, heavily armed palace guards in attendance walking twenty feet behind them.

Genevieve’s hopes were raised and she found she had a spring in her step and even laughed at one of Lyndreith’s little jokes. With all that had been happening of late she was hoping to resolve this matter of the Chalice and the chest of gold coins once and for all, and as soon as Avalon was well enough to travel, leave these lands and get on with their lives. Perhaps even raise a family.

Lyndreith took Genevieve to a sunlit room