Gylain and William embraced at the foot of the cliffs, their backs in the darkness and their faces in the light. Yet Gylain had given himself to lust. He did not combat it because he did not desire to. Though he could have done anything, he did not want to do it.
“The curse of God!” Gylain whispered to himself as he embraced William. “I cannot do otherwise than what I desire, and it is God who shapes those desires. I am damned, now. But I do not care – I will have what I will have.”
Gylain fell back into the darkness to hide his scowling face.
“Come,” he said, “We will take them in the pass.”
They hid in the center of the pass and waited in the darkness. They could hear the heavy breathing of the approaching Vikings, but stalked backwards – remaining always in front of them. The Vikings did not know they were near.
Then, in a flash of brilliance, the sun came over the cliffs far above and shone into the pass. The light was as great as the darkness had been. The Atiltians attacked, spreading themselves over the narrow pass and charging down the surprised Vikings, who turned and ran to the beaches. Yet Gylain chased after them, and his heart boiled within him. He used the power of his lust to fight the Vikings. No one could not withstand it.
“Destroy me now, God,” he muttered as his sword flew forward on its own accord. “Destroy me now, or else I will destroy you. I will have Casandra!”
The Vikings were routed and banished forever to their icy homes. The Atiltian army and navy returned to Eden amidst a great celebration. The empire was saved, as was western civilization, for good or ill. William was dispatched to rebuild the navy, and Gylain paraded through the streets as a hero.
Casandra’s passion, meanwhile, was fully converted to a passion of hatred. She met Gylain in the secret of the night and they plotted to overthrow the king. Casandra hated the man who took her husband and Gylain the man who had power over him. But Gylain was discovered and placed in the city jail. The jailers, however, were Gylain’s followers. They released him and he escaped to Casandra’s chamber.
Fate played their side in the matter, for Casandra’s father died, and she became queen of Saxony. The king did not suspect her, but held a banquet in her honor. Gylain came disguised as her handmaiden, sitting opposite the king and queen. Then, in the middle of the feast, he sprang forward and slew the king, while one of his men did the same to the queen. The castle guards sprang upon them, but Gylain had positioned his own men around him. It was a desperate struggle. Alfonzo of Melborough escaped with the prince, but the rest of the castle was taken. Casandra hated William so much that she imprisoned her own daughter, hoping to bring pain to her husband.
William, however, did not know what had happened and returned to the city. He was arrested by the new king’s army as he left the safety of his fleet and taken to the top room of Castle Plantagenet. The guards secured him to a post – his arms apart and his back open to the air – then left, as Casandra and Gylain came in.
“What is this, my love?” William asked, concealing his emotions. “What is this cruel joke?”
“I do not jest, William. I loved you long ago, but I have since grown to despise you.”
William looked to his friend Gylain for comfort, but there was none to be had in him. He had been overtaken by his lust and was no longer a man, but a beast. His lusts were fulfilled yet he was not satisfied. So he looked deeper into evil, where there is no satisfaction to be had.
“This is the end, friend,” and he walked behind William, out of his view.
Casandra stood in front of William. She grabbed a whip from the table beside her. She slashed him across the face. He did not wince at the physical pain, but could not hold himself through the spiritual.
“Why have you forsaken me?” he said through his tears.
“Was I not forsaken first?”
Gylain began to scourge William’s back with a glass-tipped whip. His flesh was flayed away piece by bloody piece. Yet William did not feel the pain of this, for his spirit had died within him. His eyes grew emotionless; his face as the face of the dead. He said nothing but stared at Casandra with the innocence of a child. He did not perceive what happened to him. He did not understand.
When the evil was complete they left William alone in the upper room of the tower. Casandra saw the wrong she had done and fled to Saxony with her youngest daughter, Cybele. She could not return to William, yet that ancient love within her rejected Gylain. So she faded away to the land of her youth and was no more. Gylain, however, hardened his heart against sorrow and numbed his conscience with ever greater evils.
William, meanwhile, was rescued by Erwin Meredith. The newly formed rebellion took him to the Western Marches, where William was returned to health in Milada’s castle. The forest could not be crossed by an army and the navy had been destroyed and deserted. But Gylain pushed to rebuild it and, when it was ready, sent it after them. The Battle of Thunder Bay followed: William was captured, but the fledging navy was taken by the rebellion.
William Stuart was taken into exile by Nicholas Montague, traveling the world on a ship of torture. But then, in a daring action, the Admiral took over the ship, with the help of his fellow prisoner Barnes Griffith. They turned course to Atilta. On the way the winds beset them, wrecking them on the African coast. Without tools, it took years to rebuild the ship. But William led them on, his eyes always smoldering for revenge. At last, he had returned to take it.
“Admiral!” a voice cried through the noise of the storm, “Admiral!”
The old man’s eyes opened, as if awoken from a deep slumber.
“What is it, Barnes?” he asked with an air of sorrow.
“Sir, Gylain’s fleet has begun besieging us. Their arrows barely miss our stern: we will soon be in range.”
“It is time,” the Admiral sighed deeply with a distracted countenance. “It is time that I fought Gylain to the death.”
“And your daughter, Cybele?” Barnes asked with an air of worry.
The old man laid his weather-beaten hand upon the young man’s shoulder, with a look in his eyes that showed his weather-beaten heart. Their ship tore through the water, and the waves beat fiercely against the bow, crashing down on those aboard the ship. The swell kept The King’s Arm from seeing their pursuers at times, though they were only fifty yards apart. A steady crash filled the air as the waves collided with themselves and the floodgates of heaven were swept aside by the rain.
For a moment, the eyes of the youth and the old man met and broke like stubborn waves upon each other’s faces. At last, the Admiral spoke in a quiet, heartless voice:
“My daughter,” he said slowly, “Has already chosen her side.”
Chapter 47
“Archers, take your positions,” Gylain roared above the noise of the storm. “Show no mercy, have no fear – the deluge and the end are near!”
There was a wild scramble on the deck as the archers tried to gain a sturdy foothold. The waves crashed down, spraying them with the cold, salty water until they were frozen. Yet there was a fire within them that no physical pain could extinguish.
Gylain still stood at the bow of the ship, staring forward into the ever gathering gloom of the night. The moon shone above the clouds, but its light did not break through to the sea below. The waves grew stronger. By now they were rising above the sides of the deck. A constant roar filled the air – the wind and thunder partaking in a terrifying duet. It was as if Hades himself had taken control of the seas, and as if his only desire was to destroy those two men who fought with fiercer wrath than even he knew.