LOVE CHASE
Chapter 17
Mr. Shaw diverted my attention from my domestic problems at our next session. I needed the diversion. With ease he slide directly into his tale…
Fuller and his men wondered gravely about their guide through the thick forest. The rusty knight never uttered a word. He never dismounted to relieve himself or to camp. He directed his horse through the densest of foliage even if clear paths seemed more opportune. On the third day into the forest Fuller rode side by side with the knight. He asked a hundred questions and rambled on about anything that popped into his head. Only twice did the knight so much as turn his head. Nothing more.
Out of pure boredom Fuller took to examining the knight as if to be properly able to describe the escort to Lord Alfred. Except for its shoddy condition the knight's armor resembled standard wear for a renegade of the Crusades. A lock of hair emerging from under the escort's helmet captured Fuller's attention most of all. The curling lock shone true blonde in the scattered light from the forest. Few men hailing from England were capable of growing blonde hair. Fuller silently summarized he must have been from Normandy, or worse, France. This caused a chill of anxiety through Fuller, was he being escorted by an enemy of the Kingdom? Was John Tenlis an enemy of the throne?
The lock of hair dropped down with each trot from the horse. Then disappeared between strides. Also, the hair appeared to be delicate in nature. The hair of a female? Fuller's eyes instinctively glided down along the armor in search for a break that would reveal what hid under the metal. Not even the armor's crotch lay bare. But his eyes took distinct notice of the knight's gloved hands. They were long and slender; again like a woman's. Or, perhaps like a young boy's? Fuller could not discern which. Had the knight never uttered a word, he would certainly believe a female or a child escorted them to who knew where.
Finally on the morning of the fourth day Fuller refused to mount until the knight told him the distance remaining. The knight did not answer. Fuller approached the mounted knight. "I command you to tell me how much further," he roared up at the unmoving creature. No reply. He then drew his sword and placed its point to the knight's belly. "Speak to me, damn idiot!" But no sound came from the knight. "Fuller pushed the blade just to show his serious intent. But, to his dismay, the armor fell to the ground with no one inside it.
Back in Weare Alfred stood aghast as he watched John Tenlis lead a caravan into his courtyard. He stared from his chamber's window while tearing at his nightshirt, almost ripping it away. Esther laid sleeping until he loudly cursed Tenlis, Fuller, daughters, caravans and anything else that came to mind.
What is it, my husband? Esther rose feebly.
That monster has come! Alfred growled at the window.
That is a delightful surprise. Esther fought off her sleep.
A surprise it is! Alfred mumbled within his beard. Turning to the door he bellowed for his valet. Before the boy entered, however, Alfred swung open the door and literally dragged the valet into his dressing room. Dress me, quickly!
Lisbeth sat at her window from across the courtyard. The music from Tenlis' caravan drew her from her bed. She sat comfortably gazing down at the object of her affections. Cuddling herself in the warmth left in her nightgown, she purred. Her eyes could not leave Tenlis' eyes. For, yes, he dearly was looking up at her. Seeing her clutching to the windowsill, calling him to climb the ivy that lead up the wall to her and steal her away. In that short conversing of eye contact they pledged love to each other. Time meant nothing to them within that conversation; words meant less. He had come to her. She had been there awaiting him.
Two escorts left the castle to bring John inside. He followed them only glancing for sure footage from time to time. Otherwise he saw only Lisbeth smiling down upon him.
Inside the escorts lead John Tenlis to the lord's receiving room. Alfred dismissed the escorts then beckoned Tenlis to sit. The lord moved over to an furnace. Bitterly he mumbled about the late spring's chill as he ignited the small furnace. Before turning to face Tenlis, Alfred flatly asked, Where is Edward Fuller?
Fuller was detained, John calmly answered. I did not want to miss our dinner and the moment when Lisbeth and I finally meet.
Alfred turned and took a chair across from Tenlis. He folded his hands tightly to his stomach and eyed the young man for a long while. This did not upset John in the least. I do not like you, sir. Alfred peered hard at him.
Many get accustomed to me in short time.
Alfred refused to be amused. You are reputed to be a sorcerer. Is that true?
I am also by repute a private, a nobleman, a spy and a thief.
But are you a sorcerer?
Do I appear to be one?
Alfred distrusted his replies and grew colder under the stress of his temper. But he held himself in check. Must you fool with my concern for Lisbeth? Is this an example of how you will treat her? Alfreds cleverness impressed John.
I apologize, my Lord. Forgive me. He did so like an upright fellow. I profess no religious affiliation.
Not a Christian? A Jew then?
Neither, sire.
Alfred found that unusual. The other choice had to be an occultist. And your occupation?
I have none, my lord, John spoke with a feeling of honest humility. My father left me with much wealth.
Oh? Alfred enjoyed hearing that. And just who is - was your father?
The Galt of Malin. Alfred paused by his reply. He glanced side wise at John then studied him for a long while. Alfred had one up on John though John did not realize it. The Galt of Malin was indeed a sorcerer, a Magi in fact, but Alfred knew John thought he never heard of the man. Should I know this person? He asked.
My family hails from Arabia. All I can say is that my father was a very wealthy man.
Alfred nodded. Rising, as John did in respect, Alfred closed the meeting with, You are to camp outside Weare. You are not to contact my daughter in any manner. I will send for you when the suitor's dinner is to commence. Understood?
Indeed, my lord, Tenlis smiled thinking himself home free.
Alfred discovered Lisbeth in his chamber with Esther. She ran with open arms to her father. Her eyes tearing and her voice filled with gratitude. Alfred juggled the emotions of a parent having to keep her joy alive but dash it enough for its eventual destruction. Do not pour over with love for this man, Lisbeth, until you get to know him.
Oh! Father, I know he is the man for me! Lisbeth clutched her breast. Mother likes him also!
I did not precisely say that, child. Esther called across the room from her bed. Allow me to meet him first.
Your mother is a woman of methods, Alfred shook his finger in Lisbeth's face. You are not. Therefore heed her advice, little one.
Oh! Mother is mundane, uninspired, she tried to keep her voice low. Then with a sparkle in her eye she cheered, There is the inspiration of an artist of wool in me. I feel so many things, Father.
That may be so, child, Alfred said off the cuff. But until the dinner you are to remain in the castle. Tend to your affairs and be patient.
I will obey, Lisbeth smiled as she raced from the room.
Esther noticed Alfred's change of face as their daughter scurried off. What do you think of Tenlis? You spoke with him, I assume.
Alfred came to Esther's side. He took her pale hand. His father is the Galt of Malin. He awaited her reply but she only looked blankly at him. The man is worse than a sorcerer. Esther frowned at the remark. The Galt of Malin is a Magusa Magician.
This is not good news? That this John is son to a magic man? Esther bowed her head then brought it up again.
No, it's not. Magi are a sect. Sorcerers are individual men of Magic. What dark secrets they know they pass down to one or two up and coming sorcerers. But a Magi is one of a long line and organization of men. A Magi's magic is a thousand fold greater than a sorcerer's.
That was his father. Esther looked for a ray of hope. Does this also mean Tenlis is a Magi?
It would likely be true. But even a lord's implication is not proof. Still, I think it best not to permit a union here. Alfred gazed tenderly down upon his wife. Her body barely filled her nightgown. Her eyes swelled sadly displaying an unknown ailment that robbed her of strength, wasted her body and carved deep ruts under her eyes. You should not be hearing such things, Esther. He gently stroked her lusterless hair. I know you long to see Lisbeth's wedding day, and you shall. But not to this strange intruder.
A glimmering hint of tears made pools of her eyes. I shall not see it, she answered in a tone striking sore spots in Alfred's heart.
Do not speak like that! Alfred softly insisted. He took both her hands in his and peered into her sad face. His eyes formed narrow slits as he tried to implant confidence directly into her heart. Embracing her he felt her fully in his arms; she seemed so slight, so easily accounted for in two hands. Why not dress and come out into the healthy sunlight, Esther. No one has seen you in many days. This room must grow awfully lonely for you. Will you accompany me, my love?
Perhaps later, she forced a smile for her husband. "I prefer to be alone with my thoughts of Lisbeth.
Alfred left her side and remained only long enough to place a kiss to the palms of her hands. Do not scourge yourself over our daughter. Like you, she is in my care. I am her father, her lord, her consul and her protector. Nothing will happen to either of you without my succumbing to the reason of it.
Tenlis camped on a hillside outside Weare while Alfred drove himself half crazy to come up with an excuse not to have the two lovers meet. John sent jugglers to Alfred and unusual yet lovely flowers to Esther daily. Minstrels entertained villagers as the folks spun at their looms or went about their chores. Soon popular opinion had turned to favor the sorcerer in the tent high above the meadow of Weare.
You know Fuller will arrive shortly. The knight watched down toward the meadow castle. The last splashes of a sharp red sunset washed the castle in crimson and orange. The knight's tarred armor captured brilliantly those last rays of day light as the large figure spoke with Tenlis. Fuller will command the act which will fulfill our destiny.
Tenlis stepped nearer the knight. His sandals clung atop the large bulging roots of a thick oak tree. Eyes filled with dreams, his face the memory of a exploding sunset, John leaned back against the tree fading into the colors of night. Then, soon, I will have her at last.'
Soon but not soon. The knight replied without the slightest of movement. In a short time, when all is complete. Then you shall have what is rightfully yours, my ungrateful friend.
You baffle me, knight! Tenlis fell from his daydreams. His passion tainted from hopeful love into a controlled anger. You are far more of a wizard than my father! Hell to heaven the distance between you two! John grabbed the knight by his nearest arm and forced the now dark helmet to face him squarely. Remove that shield that hides your face from me! Allow me to speak plainly to you. And you must speak plainly to me!
The knight simply pushed John from off the metal of its arm. Turning again toward Weare, a flat voice echoed from within the heavy helmet, I have brought you this far, John Tenlis. Do not distrust the threshold of your destiny. Think always of her.
One stands between me and this destiny you present me: Lord Alfred. He moved from the knight then as if afraid the monster would strike. The gloomy figure standing against the night sky reminded him of when first they met. John saw again the cavern home he forged out of a cave. He felt the chill in the summer breeze as it held the snow to the Scottish mountaintops. He went there to mediate and wait. He went there because what he sought he did not find within the ranks of men. So he became a recluse waiting what clawed at his heart to find him.
One evening while he knelt in prayer he heard the clanking for the first time. Looking round his cavern home he saw no armored men. He looked for it unsuccessfully up and down the mountain.
Here, the hallow voice called to him. The spatial tone of the voice reminded him of the bored-out horns he had heard during his travels through Norway; horns that sounded through the nocturnal depths, the wail of Vikings calling homeward the spirits of their dead.
He turned to find the Knight standing inside the entrance to his cavern. The singular experience of finding a stranger breaching the security of his private domain frightened him. He bent low and squinted his eyes to see the figure more clearly as he slowly approached the cavern. John glanced for his weapons but they remained behind the knight. What brings you to me, eerie knight? He asked. Moving to the entrance he watched the knight step closer. It left the boundaries of the cave yet the shadows of the enclosure came fully with it.
It stretched its hands out at John. I offer you this. Its hands opened. A glittering light formed a ball in its hands. An unearthly light, bright but burning entirely within itself. Nothing licked the surrounding rock or illuminated the mask of awe on John's face. And there in the light he saw Lisbeth's image for the first time. This I offer you. This is returned to you so that mine shall be cleaved to me.
The memory John relived shattered when the knight spoke once more. Alfred shall succumb to the method of his destiny. He shall, as willingly as you, accept back your soul mate. He shall give her up both from his castle and from his heart. He shall, in the scheme of things, very soon.
Fuller arrived by nightfall after leaving his band to their own pace Fuller rode hard back to Alfred. Breaking into the lord's chamber, Fuller physically dragged Alfred from sleep and bed into his dressing room. This Tenlis is a strong sorcerer! Fuller put aside all greetings.
One of the Magi from Persia, Alfred stated tossing the sleep from his eyes. I feared you were lost, Edward. I need you desperately.
A Magnus. Fuller pondered and marveled. His eyes dropped into a blank stare as he stepped away from Alfred. He walked across the room like a man sleepwalking. Why should he be on English shores?
That I can not answer. All I know is that he will dine with us tomorrow evening. Unless we can obstruct him.
He is here? Fuller's face dropped.
"'That is news to you? Alfred wondered why until Fuller filled him in.
The man lied to me. I could have him banished for that! Excellent! Alfred guessed at a method to rid himself of Tenlis and still save face with his daughter.
It will not work against a Magi, Alfred. Fuller wrung his hands trying to achieve a hasty answer. We are against a man who can destroy us in a heart beat.
Perhaps not, Alfred placed an arm about Fuller as he started to walk him into the hallway. They strolled together in conversation. This man may not be a Magi himself. His father was the Galt of Malin. This does not mean he is any more powerful than you and I.
Perhaps we should call on the clergy to help us.
Since Magicians are renowned for their purity and holiness, I would think the sin stained souls of a priest would drop dead before the sight of a Magi. We must take precautions with this man.
Fuller sought out options but found none. We must either stand or retreat. He may already know of our thoughts. We must resolve ourselves to a course of action or inaction and abide by it.
I fear we must retreat, Alfred grimly said. Just bundle up Lisbeth and send her off to London or, better yet, to Canterbury. Fuller had no better suggestion.
The plan went well at first. Lisbeth was ushered from her bed and thrown right into traveling clothes while Fuller informed her that the Black Death had come to Weare. She continually asked about her parents and if John had been notified. Fuller assured her that her parents would join her in Canterbury shortly and that John would also. By starry night, escorted by seven knights and nine squires, Lisbeth was dashed away from Weare.
Mr. Shaw paused here. I looked over at him. "That's it for this week? Don't leave me hanging like this!"
"No." He shook his hands as if molding me to my chair. "This session shall be the end of all my tales. I desire to finish it and get on with what I originally came to you for."
"Now you're talking!" I beamed feeling a little like Lord Alfred who figured he had Tenlis right where he wanted him. "Please, go on."
No more than a mile's ride from the castle the small band came under attack by robbers." His tone of voice and the words he said struck at me. Lisbeth's surely was facing an ordeal. "Swiftly the hooded men poured from out of the night. Swords clashed the still of the evening sky as blood sprouted from fatal wounds. Screaming, Lisbeth was torn from her horse by two laughing men. Squires and knights struggled to recapture her from the bandits to no avail. They ripped at her. Fought away her infant like attacks to disrobe her, rape her then left all for dead."
This was terrible! Shaw's turn of events struck me to the heart with its awful tragedy. This was his last tale, his last chance at gaining love, and it was beaten, raped, murdered!
I saw Mr. Shaw now truly as a patient in distress. He stood on an edge glimpsing at an abyss, which he named his goal. A deep and deadly abyss wherein lay only the promise of utter sexual frustration leading to violence of all sorts. Finally I thought I had him all figured out. Oh, I was so sure, so positive! And I felt relieved because he wasn't standing alone on that edge. I was there to help him turn away from it.
But how much time remained before his first strike at society? Could I formulate a treatment for him before he raped and murdered?
"The disruption had been heard all the way to the castle. Villagers pulled themselves from the safety of their beds to grab weapons and hurry toward the sounds of the slaughter. Fuller sent out an entire troop of lances then mounted himself in pursuit. But none of these arrived in time and none arrived before Tenlis.
Cold horror poured over his flesh as he found the courage to look down at Lisbeth's mangled body. He fell hard to his knees. A silence grew over him, a deadly, awful silence that emptied his devastated soul and claimed the very limits of his grief stricken body. The sorrow soiled everything within the vast boundaries of his mind. The further his scope of thought the deeper the darkness. With a breath wrecked by a moan, John dropped his right hand to Lisbeth's torn skull. His fingers dipped into her wounds, the blood turning away the memory of life as it cooled to his touch. As if all the elements of grief rushed directly into his palm the hand bolted skyward. His face twisted as a loud wail rattled from his throat. Dashing both hands into the twilight, John cried, 'Entrust this hallowed soul! Give me her destiny as I am her destiny!' So saying the twilight cracked apart with lightning as never seen before. The fiery bolt clenched at his blood soaked fist and exploded into a white sun like messenger from God.
"John was thrown far from Lisbeth's body. His arm felt numb and ripped from its shoulder. Cowering from the sunburst still in full array above Lisbeth's dead form, John grabbed for his burnt hand. Opening it he discovered a stone of wondrous beauty. A blue crystal that symbolized a promise from the gods!"
The session ended with insight to the man and on a note of relief for me. I believed, more than ever, that he was a walking time bomb set to go off. The mood of his last tale recalled Tanu's defiance of the forces that are. However, he displayed more futility, very little hope echoed through this last tale. Martin Shaw was close to his edge. My only hope remained in the promise that he would, on our next session, open up. I felt more assured, at that moment, that one of us would catch him before he fell.
Chapter 18
Tightly tucked between Yvonne and the aircraft's tiny, oval window, I recapped Mr. Shaw's unusual tale while Yvonne verbalized her opinion on the matter.
"I really believe there is a profound connection between your wife, and the ladies in Mr. Shaw's stories." She said. I made no reply. Instead I peeked back to the first day I met Mr. Shaw while Yvonne went cautiously on with her thoughts.
He came to me as Mr. Martin Shaw. But soon he became, to my imagination, Tanu: a simple primitive who would be a king but lost his queen. Catiline: a Roman outlaw whose distraction for Rome kept him from his true love. John: a sorcerer who could love but his queen was stricken from him; and finally a patient whose tales mysteriously found manifestation in my wife's imagination.
Better said: a big pain in my ass. With all the evidence, I dared not believe there lived a connection between my wife and Martin Shaw. How could such a thing occur? They never met. I carefully hid all the tales from Denise. Above all, I saw no connection between her recent lack of affection for me and Shaw's tales.
How could Yvonne mention any?
"Maybe there is no connection." Yvonne changed the pace of her words. "Maybe he is reaching her..." I frowned over at her suggestion. "As if he were casting a spell over her."
"Sure!" I half smiled then turned away. I mumbled, Shaw: Galt of Malin. It made me snicker.
Over the intercom a metallic voice described the perfect weather conditions we were to expect in Dallas. The friendly sounding pilot then announced our descending approach and eventual landing. Because we had to prepare for the landing, I felt profoundly relieved that for now our minds would become distracted by other things.
That it did for me. However, Yvonne still remained in a maze of thought. She gathered her things very automatically and followed me off board with eyes that should have been shut for all they took in. Finding a helpful baggage man easily enough, I followed him and dragged my daydreaming zombie over to a rent-a-car booth.
I began conversing with a faceless stranger about renting when like sudden thunder at my back, Yvonne erupted, "It's true!" Grabbing me in a brisk manner that reminded me of how my mother use to tear my little body away from danger when I was young, Yvonne brought me round about, face to face. I captured sudden awareness in her eyes, a hard red color in her face. "It is he! My dear God! It was he! It still is him! And he's after what is his!" There lived also in the twirl of her head and the glance of her eye the glimpse of a play actor. Though not enough to tip me off, it seemed then more like exaggeration making things bigger than life. What a dummy I was, she was too methodical for that!
Glancing awkwardly about at those around us, I blushed a deep red. "Von," I half whispered. "This is not..."
"Forget it, Bob!" She cut me off and pushed me back toward the main terminal. With wide eyes she cried, "I don't know exactly how; maybe when he was John and studied black magic? But Mr. Shaw is Tanu and all the others. He even has John's blue crystalthat diamond on his finger!"
"Are you nuts?" I attempted to stop her. Still she dragged me on.
"In each tale, in each life he tried to retain that which was his. In every case it was his wife."
"Not all the girls were his wife - err, wives."
"Yes, sir! They were all Sheba. And in every case there existed a man who had rightful possession of Sheba. A man involved with another woman who knew, befriended or was related to Sheba. And this man always knew Tanu intimately and he always stood between Tanu and Sheba. Doctor." She stopped speaking and froze our steps to press the point. Sticking her finger directly between my eyes she stated, "You are that man. I am the other woman. Shaw is Tanu. You are Karut, Cicero and the virgin's father. Denise is Sheba, Elena, and Lisbeth. She is your wife in this life, a daughter and a slave in the past because Tanu entrusted her to you, Karut. He's been trying to ask for her back ever since. You refused then but he will not be refused this time!"
"I know him intimately?" I suggested she was wrong with a coy smug.
"You think you don't?" She fired back. "How many people can say they know someone's life story from his very first life time?"
"What the hell are you saying?" I asked but her conclusion struck something within that part of the mind that instinctively recognizes truth no matter how well disguised from time to time.
"God damn it, Bob! Mr. Shaw is out to seduce your wife - body, soul, breath and life!" She became seriously somber. Bob, he is going to kill Denise.
I thought about it for a moment. The possibility bore down at me. Perhaps that was his game. I terribly misinterpreted it because, I thought, he was trying to relay to me a sexual problem designed to penetrate society. Instead he played out a twisted sexual fantasy aimed at a specific individual. A fantasy that involved Denise and I! Not seeing this was my mistake professionally. The fuse to his bomb was much shorter than I ever realized. How sick could a man be to conspire such an involved operation just to rape a woman? Then again perhaps it is not so crazy. By drawing up such a fantasy for himselfthat he rightfully should have my wifeand by personally involving myself, he also rapes me! "The man is a very sick genius!"
"Never mind that!" Yvonne nudged me willingly on. "Let's get back home!"
On the return trip the crew treated us with extreme kindness. The pilot allowed us up close to the cabin while we all awaited a return call from the New York Police Department. The pilot placed the call leaving it to me to explain whom I was and what I suspected may be transpiring.
It took more than half the flight before a call did come back. Someone back home established that Denise was quite safe at home alone. I pleaded a bit which got an officer to watch my house. Relieved, I joined Yvonne at a steward's station and forced a smiled as I related where things sat.
She seemed confused by what I told her but remained silent for a long time, actually until we were just touching down at JFK. As the engines screamed and the plane reared she asked, I don't see how you think the police can help."
I just shrugged. "What was I suppose to do?"
"I see no choice." She frowned as time neared for deplaning. "You must let her go."
"Go?" I could not believe my ears. She merely continued frowning the entire time we left the plane, met a patrolman and rode off toward Long Island.
Getting over the protocol with the cop, I finally asked Yvonne why she hid under a dark cloud.
"You think Mr. Shaw is some rapist?" She insinuated it more than she asked it.
"You first thought of it, Von." I reminded her.
"I said nothing of the kind, Bob." She confused me. "I said that Mr. Shaw is Tanu and you are Karut. He is just taking what is his."
"I know." I insisted. "He believes it to be true. That is how he justifies his crime. The sicko."
"No." She blew me away. "He is really Tanu. You are really Karut."
"Yvonne, are you all right?" I worried. The concern was scribbled all over my face. I was in no mood to deal with two many nuts at one time. Irritation began to grate at me.
"Bob, you don't see it, do you?" She shook, faced forward then back toward me. "His story is no fantasy. He has been chasing his other half, that other part of himself which will fulfill his destiny of being one, being a god. He has been incarnating from one life to another trying to reunite with Sheba. And you have been and are standing in the way of his magic because of your own love for Sheba and your own envy of Tanu. It's a simple case of jealousy." Then turning that profile to me again, the one wherein she looked as if this was just a role for her, she stated from pointed eyes and a set jaw, "That's the whole of it, Bob. Don't make me force the issue, accept the fact that you're jealous!"
"No!" I roared loosing grip on myself. A unique anger boiled within me that I could not recognize or extinguish. From my neck up I corded with anger. My stomach felt flurried with Gordian knots! Her words so boggled me and my anguish so rattled my soul that I grabbed her and pulled her eye-to-eye with me. The patrolman glanced back to ascertain what events brought such upheaval. "This can't be true!" I shook her.
"No?" Yvonne pushed at me, forcing back my composure but not my heart wrecking anguish. "Then why do you carry on so? You know it's true. I can read you like a book!"
She sat back. "Ah! Have it your way then." She waved me away with disgust in her voice. "Don't say I didn't warn you."
This was all ridiculous, I thought at the time, but my chest heaved and my mind boiled. Hateful thoughts with colorful images shot through my head. In one instant I pictured Denise being handled and ravished by Mr. Shaw. In another I stood protecting her from some savage warrior. Time and identities became confused. His tales were interrupting the present reality! I turned to the cop. "Speed it up, please." I ordered coldly behind clenched teeth and a huff of craziness in my voice. A transition grew swiftly over me, one that I did not question. Emotionally it flowed through me and I succumbed to its impact. It gripped my mind with confusing images. For a moment I did fall back to the primitive Karut or desired to rise above all the struggling confusion of theories and crave only to be with Denise. Eventually I fell back hard in my seat. My eyes rolled and my head spun as I gasped aloud, "What kind of magic is this?"
Even with every car on the road moving aside from the siren, the ride home seemed to last for years. And when we turned onto my block a terrible feeling of our motion dropping into nightmare speed overtook me. Through the patrol car's unwashed windshield I saw my house. The patrolman and Yvonne also witnessed it. With wide questioning eyes we tried to evaluate the scene. Outside on the sidewalk stood a cop. Two or three others were beside him. I peered harder to see they were looking toward my house, at the roof's terrace, to be exact. "What's happening?" Yvonne asked as she too moved forward for a better look. I did not answer. It was as if I knew but did not want to admit it even unto myself. And I also believed she knew as well, better in fact.
Was then I saw the light; a light that fired deep into the recesses of my soul. I knew what it meant then. At that second I knew what had happened and it riled me beyond words. Before the car stopped, I flew like a madman from the car. Running far beyond the limits of my body would ever allow me to. I dashed through those gathered about and only stopped inches from my front door. My teeth clenched, my fists balled like iron hammers, I stood challenging the forces above me. My eyes peered toward the roof while my throat squealed out in utter disapproval and despair.
Yvonne caught up with me then. "My God, Bob! Its on fire, get away!" She pulled at me.
"That's no fire!" I bellowed. "He is with her and you know it!"
"Get back!" She tried to push me from the house with her entire form. Others also grabbed onto me. They piled atop me yet I refused to surrender any ground. "Bob!" Yvonne cried upon my unhearing ears. "There's nothing you can do! Now move away or you will pay with the remainder of your lives!"
I did not hear it rightly then. She did say, Lives.
I was a fool not to listen for destiny cannot be altered. Perhaps not even delayed.
To accurately describe how I tore away from them and ripped directly through the front door one would have to ask another beside me. I just did it. Over powering inner feelings and abilities produced the effects.
As if consciously realizing my entrance into the house would leave me with no escape, I turned to rivet my last gaze upon a woman who loved me well in her own fashion. Yvonne had vanished from the scurrying crowd that yielded me to my fate. I felt inside that I'd never see her again, not in this lifetime. So I said good-bye to Yvonne, Meka, Terentia, Esther and the rusty knight. Thinking she was pulled to her own safety, I drew an affectionate mental picture of her then tossed it aside for the more perfect image of Denise. Sheba. Elena. Lisbethand so many others I then remembered.
I followed the inner man driving me onward. A man who clawed into, then through, anything that blocked his path. Smoke and fire reached out at me from all angels like miserable, ugly hordes of demons clothed in colorful boiling oils. The demonic flames licked at me as if attempting to swallow me straight into the bitterness of hell. The blistering heat touched off dramatically cold pangs of gripping fear from within me. "He knew I feared fire!" I verbally fought at my phobia. "He knows everything about me, damn magician!" But I now knew about him; he, himself, by his stories, revealed his true self to me. Martin Shaw tried to collapse me into ruin. He wanted revenge for my having kept Sheba from him all these thousands of years. A well plotted revenge, wherein this life I would know what he was and why he came to steal from me the one I loved. To make me suffer as he had, but I would not allow him to win, destiny was mine to choose!
I ignored the fire cascading violently through each room. I allowed nothing to stand for long the object of my desire and me. Everythingdoors, hallways, stairs and fireseemed to rush aside as I raced to the roof terrace.
I ran to the entrance of the terrace like a mortal man running from the depths of hell. Flames filled every inch of the walls around me but for a small crease. A tear in the fire flew open just large enough for me to move forward. Then I filled with fright. My fear of fire gripped down hard upon me. Mr. Shaw must have known my weakness; he used the flames against my passionate desire to regain my wife. Suddenly, briefly I realized what I was doing. In no tale he told me, none that I could even recall on my own was there fire before this one. This fire, this one that roared around me and tried to consume my flesh is the fire I had instinctively feared all my life! Somehow I always knew this last battle had to come. I wrestled against the invoked fear. Willfully demanding an unearthly courage from my inner soul, ignoring the crackling blaze, I leaped onto the terrace.
There I saw them. Like two gods they stood only paces before me. They were nude. Embraced, he touched her dear face and kissed her. She embraced him and responded totally to him. Around them burned no fire yet another light grew. It grew from them; a stunning blue white light that cooled the lovers. But the light was not complete I could sense that! I fought to get to my wife before it totally engulfed them both. Straining against time and the physical powers I had to overcome to move fast enough to them I screamed, "Sheba! Sheba!"
It all came to me then, suddenly and obviously. She turned to me, a warm smile lightened her features as she stepped so close I thought she would embrace me. "My brother," she placed her hand in mine, "at long last you remove the curse that fell upon you. I am free to return to the gods." Shaw also moved in close. He too smiled.
"I can not bare to be without you, Dennie!" I roared above the crackling of the flames. "You are mine!"
Her reaction was one of pity. Shaw confidently shook his head and extended his hand before me. Opening it, I saw the blue crystal in the palm of his hand. "She is mine, always was. For we are one forever no matter what you do, my brother."
"Deny your jealousy, Karut," Denise said urgently. "Allow us all to meet our destinies as prescribed from the beginnings of time. You must discard me for the love that is awaiting you. You must and you will in this life or another, doesn't matter."
"No!" I raved as they stepped from me and joined hands. They intended to leave.
Rage claimed my heart as I saw them drawing close to each other, a heavenly light glowing from their skin. I shook; looked around instinctively as if demons from the fire could chain her to my side, abduct her from this god!
Then I saw it. It was a dagger of glass from off one of the terrace doors. Ten inches long, they told me later. I grabbed it. It ripped my hands and the blood caused the glass to run red. I pointed the dagger at them and took firm hold of Denise, pulling her from him. "No! Never!" I wailed as I stabbed the image of all the women I loved from the grip I held on her against my chest. "If I can't have her, no one will!" I stabbed and cut deeply as if violently ripping away my own heart!
Yet she did not struggle or look with any fear at the glass puncturing her breast. Her eyes were fixed on her man. Sending him another farewell, another good-bye, for the moment.
She fell dead. She dropped to the burning floor and my heart emptied like blood pouring down over her. A dreaded agony sprang from me for what I had done. Grief could not explain what turned my madness into sanity. But all at once, as if proud of my actions, an ecstasy overtook me. For I realized I had not bound anyone to lifelessness, I freed us all!
Shaw came to me then, all five of him, and so many more. The flesh which deceived me just hours ago cascaded with numerous faces until only one likeness projected itself clearly. Mr. Shaw studied me carefully and with intense curiosity, so that in my agony, my ecstasy, I took notice of his thoughts. He wanted to know my inner feelings with a thirst new to memory. He wanted to rediscover me as I was before I desired insanely to be him.
And he communicated great caring to me.
I understood. Understood because we were brothers. We were friends too often; sometimes we were adversaries, sometimes we were perfect strangers. And during each lifetime that flashed across my mind, I studied him. I pried at him to discover his weakness, wanting to know who he was, wanting to be him. Of course, I did because if I were he, I'd have Sheba.
Though I never could. And I never will.
The End
Love Chase
By Joe Pegasus
Copyright 2013
ISBN 9781301858354