All His Wrath

“Please now, mother of Paign, listen deeply with your heart. Listen for the who of your son. Fix your heart on the sounds of his heart. He is in great pain, this much is known to me. Physical anguish, yes, there is. Yet, there is something more…something deeper…great suffering of a different kind.”

Gudrun experienced sensations unlike anything she’d felt before, as if she inhabited not only her own body but also that of another’s. She assumed that her connection to Zarentil provided her increased sense of time and place. Even as simple as she was, she knew she could not be in two places at the same time. And yet, she was. Her eyes still took in the fiendish gargoyles around her, unmoving, with Sepanyahd’s snarling visage just inches away from her.

Strangely, her new vantage point was not seen through Zarentil’s eyes. It was, somehow, the sum of the two. While she could, if she wished, see things as the little gargoyle did— looking at her as she looked at him—her vision now took flight, encompassing beauties and horrors that defied description or understanding. Gudrun choked momentarily at the realization that she was empowered to see everything. Whatever she wished. Whoever she wished. That this power had come upon her unbidden, to a poor, uncultured, military widow, distraught and weary of torment, was intoxicating. Gudrun’s senses grew dull and sluggish. In a stupor, her mind wandered impulsively to times, places and people she sought something from. Forgiveness she sought from some. With others, it was forgiveness she sought to bring. But as she scanned the horizons of her life, Gudrun began to search out those she wished for retribution. Quickly, she searched for those officers who had commanded her beloved Roald into the battle where he was slain. Before she could pursue this thought, an enormous desire to see Roald swept over her. Perhaps, she could save him from the battle! Could it be that with this newfound power, she could intercede and direct her husband to a different end? Wild hope bloomed inside of Gudrun as she bent her will to see into that specific time and place where she could save her husband.

If only this terrible ringing would stop! I can’t hear myself think! The sound hammering against her wasn’t the ringing of the church bell she sometimes heard, especially in the quite of a still evening. This ringing must be more like standing within the huge, iron bell of their stave church, she thought. Oh, my head will shatter soon! Nausea assaulted her. Her eyes still open, seeing through time and place, Gudrun instinctively made her mind go blank. The severe ringing immediately stopped. Zarentil’s voice broke through.

You must listen! Seek not these other cares of your heart. There will be time later. You must listen for your son, mother of Paign! His need is urgent! Please, listen your way to him. I will take us to the there he is.

Revulsion and loathing crashed through Gudrun; her intuition told her the terrible ringing had been Zarentil trying to break through all along. She’d wasted precious time, indulging her sense of importance and power. Guilt surged up within her like bile.