Rising - Forgive me for I have sinned.
RISING
Rising is the unforgiving tale of a man damaged by my actions.
His character is my sin and this story is my confession.
INTRODUCTION
Forgive me for I have sinned.
Many have suffered because of it, but I have repented, and in the end, paid the ultimate price. It is a price I should have paid the first time – but I was selfish and reluctant to orchestrate my own demise.
I ask you not to judge me – I sin differently to you.
******
CHAPTER 1
The Village, North Western Scotland
He watched her sleep, silently counting each shallow breath before stepping forward and reaching for a tartan blanket that had fallen at her feet. He moved to cover her with the blanket and then suddenly dropped it. His eyes narrowed. Weakness and compassion would ruin the game. She was his ivory trophy and treasured central pawn, tarnished by time and him.
“Wake up old woman.”
Marta’s grey eyes flickered open and came to rest on the familiar form of Old Alastair MacIain, chief of the MacDonalds of Glencoe.
“Was it absolutely necessary to present yourself in this way, Stag?” Marta said, rubbing her eyes to clear them of sleep. My chief is long since dead, why take his shape?”
“You respected him.”
“And what happened to him sickened me.”
“But you haven’t averted your gaze – perhaps you are relieved that it is he who died and not you.”
She fell silent.
“Are you not disgusted when you think back to what the Campbells did?” the Stag taunted.
“It wasn’t just the Campbells who destroyed my people.”
“So you blame me for the massacre?”
“Aye – you could have stopped it.”
“I cannot save everyone.”
“Enough! Why are you here, Stag?”
“The child is born.”
“And it’s mother?”
“She is dead.”
Marta closed her eyes and sighed deeply. “She was my best friend’s daughter – I loved her as my own.”
“We must all die at some point.”
“What of her husband?” Marta asked, choosing to ignore the Stag’s blunt statement.
“Simon Campbell is, as I predicted – no use to man nor beast.”
“He is a strong man, he will heal in time.”
“Unlikely. He is crippled with grief – and guilt. He will not recover.”
“Would it not have been better to simply save Corran?”
“You know very well that it wasn’t possible to save her.”
“I don’t believe you. You granted Corran immortality after the massacre…”
“As I did you,” he interrupted.
“You could have saved her now, if you had wanted to,” Marta said, deliberately ignoring his reference to her own immortality.
“Perhaps – but the deed is done and the woman is dead, petty regrets are futile.”
“You used her.”
“What of it?”
“She was the closest thing I had to a daughter.”
“And now she is dead – our priority lies with the child. It must be reared.”
“You mean raised?”
“Simple mistake – I have found it a mother.”
“He had a mother.”
“And I let her die – yes, I know. You must now deal with my judgment, that is if you still want to control the child’s powers one day.”
“You know I have no choice.”
“Then you must go to Simon and bring the child here.”
“What makes you think he will hand his son over to me?”
“He won’t care who takes the boy – but he remembers you well enough, and in time he will find some comfort in knowing that you have his son.”
“I am too old to raise a child – you cannot possibly…”
“No – of course I don’t expect you to be its mother.”
“Then what are we to do with him?”
“He will be reared in the twenty first century, the safest time I know – by the woman who bore Duncan.”
“Does this woman know yet?”
“Not yet – but she will.”
“And you are certain she will be happy to do this?”
“Quite the contrary – she will despise the job.”
“Then we must find another – someone who will cherish the boy.”
“No. My decision is final.”
“You are a despicable creature.”
“Yes, I most certainly am – but you will follow me nonetheless.”
“Only because you have left me with no choice.”
“And you will leave Grace with no choice.”
“Exactly how do you expect me to do that?”
“I credited you with more intelligence than that – we have her son. The woman is desperate to find him. Blackmail her.”
“And you think forcing a woman to raise another’s child is the right decision?”
“Yes.”
“You disgust me.”
“Don’t fool yourself old woman – we have more in common than you like to admit. It is time – go and do your job.”
******
Rising is the unforgiving tale of a man damaged by my actions.
His character is my sin and this story is my confession.
INTRODUCTION
Forgive me for I have sinned.
Many have suffered because of it, but I have repented, and in the end, paid the ultimate price. It is a price I should have paid the first time – but I was selfish and reluctant to orchestrate my own demise.
I ask you not to judge me – I sin differently to you.
******
CHAPTER 1
The Village, North Western Scotland
He watched her sleep, silently counting each shallow breath before stepping forward and reaching for a tartan blanket that had fallen at her feet. He moved to cover her with the blanket and then suddenly dropped it. His eyes narrowed. Weakness and compassion would ruin the game. She was his ivory trophy and treasured central pawn, tarnished by time and him.
“Wake up old woman.”
Marta’s grey eyes flickered open and came to rest on the familiar form of Old Alastair MacIain, chief of the MacDonalds of Glencoe.
“Was it absolutely necessary to present yourself in this way, Stag?” Marta said, rubbing her eyes to clear them of sleep. My chief is long since dead, why take his shape?”
“You respected him.”
“And what happened to him sickened me.”
“But you haven’t averted your gaze – perhaps you are relieved that it is he who died and not you.”
She fell silent.
“Are you not disgusted when you think back to what the Campbells did?” the Stag taunted.
“It wasn’t just the Campbells who destroyed my people.”
“So you blame me for the massacre?”
“Aye – you could have stopped it.”
“I cannot save everyone.”
“Enough! Why are you here, Stag?”
“The child is born.”
“And it’s mother?”
“She is dead.”
Marta closed her eyes and sighed deeply. “She was my best friend’s daughter – I loved her as my own.”
“We must all die at some point.”
“What of her husband?” Marta asked, choosing to ignore the Stag’s blunt statement.
“Simon Campbell is, as I predicted – no use to man nor beast.”
“He is a strong man, he will heal in time.”
“Unlikely. He is crippled with grief – and guilt. He will not recover.”
“Would it not have been better to simply save Corran?”
“You know very well that it wasn’t possible to save her.”
“I don’t believe you. You granted Corran immortality after the massacre…”
“As I did you,” he interrupted.
“You could have saved her now, if you had wanted to,” Marta said, deliberately ignoring his reference to her own immortality.
“Perhaps – but the deed is done and the woman is dead, petty regrets are futile.”
“You used her.”
“What of it?”
“She was the closest thing I had to a daughter.”
“And now she is dead – our priority lies with the child. It must be reared.”
“You mean raised?”
“Simple mistake – I have found it a mother.”
“He had a mother.”
“And I let her die – yes, I know. You must now deal with my judgment, that is if you still want to control the child’s powers one day.”
“You know I have no choice.”
“Then you must go to Simon and bring the child here.”
“What makes you think he will hand his son over to me?”
“He won’t care who takes the boy – but he remembers you well enough, and in time he will find some comfort in knowing that you have his son.”
“I am too old to raise a child – you cannot possibly…”
“No – of course I don’t expect you to be its mother.”
“Then what are we to do with him?”
“He will be reared in the twenty first century, the safest time I know – by the woman who bore Duncan.”
“Does this woman know yet?”
“Not yet – but she will.”
“And you are certain she will be happy to do this?”
“Quite the contrary – she will despise the job.”
“Then we must find another – someone who will cherish the boy.”
“No. My decision is final.”
“You are a despicable creature.”
“Yes, I most certainly am – but you will follow me nonetheless.”
“Only because you have left me with no choice.”
“And you will leave Grace with no choice.”
“Exactly how do you expect me to do that?”
“I credited you with more intelligence than that – we have her son. The woman is desperate to find him. Blackmail her.”
“And you think forcing a woman to raise another’s child is the right decision?”
“Yes.”
“You disgust me.”
“Don’t fool yourself old woman – we have more in common than you like to admit. It is time – go and do your job.”
******
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