“Oh, well I bet I’m the best boat sitter you will ever see!” Jessica chirped, excited to be included.
“Team F will be Shemmy and myself. Zan, you will be coming with us too. That will leave Roland and Katrina as our gatekeepers, team D. Alex will be taking my father to the loft we purchased in the heart of the slums, keeping him hidden.”
Zan shot up as soon as he heard his name. “Nonsense! Why the hell am I with you and not Roland? And why in the world would you put Katrina in such a dangerous post?” Slapping his hands down on the table, he pointed an angry gaze at Billiam before walking over to Katrina and setting his hands on her shoulders. I realize I never mentioned that Katrina and my brother were betrothed. At the point of this meeting their romance was about three years old. She looked up at Zan, but didn’t seem worried in the least about her assignment.
“Katrina is smart and is well trained in explosives by her father, as well as being the only one I trust to care for my cat. Have more faith in your lady. As to why you are stuck with me, Shemmy made it clear to me that when we reach the faerie spring, I will need to hold the prince for her as she revives him. We will need someone fearsome to protect us from the faeries while she performs the ritual. It may take quite a few minutes. I know that you will protect me with your life, since you are in love with me, and protect the prince since I am in love with him. You won’t want me to feel the pain of losing him again. That is why I need you with me,” Billiam replied, staring seriously at Zan. The whole table seemed enveloped by uneasiness, until Shemmy’s outburst of laughter broke it.
Zan’s gray skin turned completely porcelain white, and his eyes bulged as he jumped back from Katrina. “I have no idea what nonsense you are spouting, you egomaniacal faggot!” He spat out the words along with actual spit, overcompensating his rage to an extreme. “I will protect you and the prince out of my belief in him and duty to the crown. Cease your shameless self-flattery!” He still hadn’t regained any color as he turned his back to the table, trembling with fear and anger.
Billiam waved dismissively and responded, “You asked.”
Ackerman mustered up enough strength to outstretch his hand and swat it against his son’s. This was to show his distaste for him causing a scene, but I could tell he was fairly amused.
Roland got up, grunting out, “Thanks for making everything fuckin’ weird, guys.” He pushed his long blond hair out of his face and walked over to his wounded friend. He broke dress code, as always, wearing a gray sweater over his dress shirt, and baggy black jeans instead of trousers. He had a collection of chains hanging off his pants, individual expression I suppose, the jingling of which created a nice diversion as he crossed the room. “We’ll go out for a smoke, hm?” Pushing his friend along, he walked out quickly, trying to maintain whatever shred of cool they might have left.
Katrina had her head sunk down since Billiam first uttered that strange reason. She felt as though she was behind everyone most of the time, and here was another thing she didn’t know. She thought to herself, Why would Billiam say something so obviously untrue? Does Zan truly fancy a man? Am I not enough? It made no sense to her. She pushed out her chair, coaching herself to remain calm. “Seems we are taking a break?” she queried, forcing a smile and trying hard to let no tears escape. “I’m parched,” she continued while running over to the kitchen.
“Ten-minute break, everyone!” Billiam shouted. Turning to Shemmy, he whispered, “If I had a wet rag, would you be able to enchant the water to freeze around it?”
“Easy as lemon cake!” She had been pawing through her strange-feeling hair the entire meeting and had started to make some new braids.
“Wonderful, come with me.” He walked with her the few paces to the bar and leaned over it. He emerged with two rags and soaked them with the water hose they had at their tap. With these in hand, he slapped on a stool, prompting Shemmy to sit beside him. Nairee and Pierre had come over to gather around Billiam’s father as they quietly discussed particulars of the plan. Alex left to start dusting upstairs.
Katrina was a rather private girl, so as she cried over the sink, she left it running to avoid being heard. Jess came up behind her with a hug, and I put my hand on her shoulder. Between loud sobs, all she could say was, “I don’t understand,” about three or four times. After she calmed some, she tried speaking more. “We made love as recently as yesterday afternoon…. In the beginning it was him who…. He sought me, fought for me. Why would Billiam think that?” She turned around to fall against her sister’s chest, and Jess played with her hair.
I felt a great need to comfort her as I had grown fond of the twins upon moving in with them when the inn was first started. “Katrina, you should know faelocks, like Zan and myself, have a different way of being attracted or falling in love than humans. We take after the ogres, who were practically asexual, and we put much more importance on our platonic relationships.” She looked at me and stopped crying but seemed just as upset. “This leads us to become extremely attached and eventually attracted to people we admire. This was true of Billiam’s parents, as his mother was a faelock and private in the Order. She looked up to Ackerman like no one else, and fell madly in love. Many faelocks fall for their heroes, no matter their gender, and that is why our species’ population is frequently in decline.” This last part caused Katrina to bawl again.
“You ain’t helping, Leke!” Jess squealed.
“I’m not done,” I said calmly, grabbing Katrina’s shoulders and turning her toward me to hug her. “Billiam is half faelock, and he knows of the way we think and feel. That is why he has been so hopelessly in love with Micah since boyhood. Micah is his prince, and he always looked up to him despite his younger age. Billiam knows it is likely that either my brother or I might fall for him, being the acting captain. I love him as a second brother, but neither of us would be attracted to each other in an intimate way, so that leaves Zan. He probably just guessed and ended up hitting a sore spot. Whether Zan has any real feelings of that nature for Billiam, I cannot tell you. What I can tell you is he is mad for you and has been since the day you met.”
I abhorred lying, but I also hated seeing Katrina in so much pain. I was partially telling the truth; the farce was simply feigning ignorance of what Zan’s relationship with Billiam had truly been. We really are ensnared far more by feelings of adoration and honor than physical or lustful ideals. It was because of this that Jessica and I could maintain our carefree and secret relationship. I enjoyed her body and company and she mine, without any troublesome emotions like love mucking things up.
“Good save!” I saw Jess mouth to me.
Katrina picked her head up off my stomach and let a smile break through her stormy face. “Oh gosh, finally. It made no sense to me. I never knew that about faelocks! I am ashamed of Billiam for being so hasty; it seems so unlike him. Perhaps Zan does have a secret affection for him, but he truly does love me, and I’m the one he’s with. That’s what matters!” She backed away from me suddenly and frowned. “Physically he won’t be for the next few months, though. He will be with Billiam. I can’t just sit around here knowing he’s there and might be falling in love with our captain!”
She turned to Jessica, grabbing her hands hard, and implored her, “Sister, switch me spots, please! I can’t stay here with his memory all around, jealousy and worry biting at me constantly. It’s already happening. If Billiam doesn’t allow it, we can just pretend to be each other. Please, Jessica!”
“What? I have no explosive skills. What am I going to do without Leke protecting me?” Jess wanted to help her sister but felt very reluctant about this.
“You will have Roland! You can just leave Drummond sooner if there are even whispers of danger. Khur is not supposed to be a frightening place at all.” She was now on her knees, pulling on Jessica’s legs as she begged.
Jess looked at me mortified and then lovingly down at Katrina. “Roland ain’t even remotely a replacement for Leke, and you know that. However, you are my sis and my b
est mate, so fine. I will be a stupid gatekeeper instead of an awesome boat watcher.”
“I think you have those two things confused,” I teased Jess, laughing as I knelt to help Katrina up. “You feel better, then? You’ll get to talk everything out with Zan too. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“You’re right, and I do. I hope you don’t mind protecting me instead,” she said, her face starting to look like its regular self again. The sadness had distorted it terribly.
“I’m sure I will have much less protecting to do this way.” Both the girls giggled, and I got a small punch in the arm from Jess before we were ready to rejoin the group.
At the time Jess and I were consoling Katrina, Billiam and Shemmy were making themselves comfortable at the bar. He had reached over it and fumbled for a bottle of mead. Shemmy kneeled up on her stool, grabbing two glasses from the rack above her. They had begun sneaking in their quick drinks when Zan and Roland came back.
Roland sat back in his seat and plopped his leather boots on the table, before Nairee quickly smacked them down. Unfazed, the young rebel leaned back in his chair, appearing to have fallen asleep in an instant.
Roland was the bastard son of a prostitute named Amber Dallow, though Pierre and Nairee unofficially adopted him when his mother went missing. Roland was nine at the time and hadn’t seen her since. He had no education prior to his adoption, so Nairee devoted herself to giving him knowledge on a variety of subjects while she nursed Katrina through her illness. Roland’s mother gave him a gun when he was four, to help protect them from her dates. He continued using pistols as he grew up and had a natural talent that was fostered by Zan when he joined the reformed Order. He was an asset to our group, but he was only eighteen, and his lack of discipline was worrisome. Roland was the only person I had seen my brother care to take under his wing.
Billiam felt a tap on his shoulder. As soon as he spun around, Zan’s fist slammed square against his right cheek. His whole skull seemed to vibrate with the force. Recovering his wits and regaining his breath, he calmly said, “Well, I deserved that.” He grabbed his face and put his other hand onto Shemmy’s shoulder. “Be a dear and freeze one of those rags now please.”
She nodded and drew a hex, freezing the water all around the rag. She set it over the right side of his face for him.
“I can’t believe you would say something like that in front of everyone. I mean Katrina and your damn father were right there! Do you not think of anyone but yourself?” Zan was seething mad but equally embarrassed.
“I could’ve asked you that same thing over a hundred times, wouldn’t you say, Zan? Besides, when else was I to say it? Who knows how things will turn up and if I’d get to humiliate you ever again? I hate the thought of your secrets being buried with either of us.” Billiam had turned from him to gulp some of his mead. He was acting once again as if he barely noticed Zan’s presence, even when speaking to him.
The tension was getting to Shemmy. She, like everyone except those two men and myself, had not a clue what Billiam could be referring to. It excited her, but all the drama that rose from it was bringing her down. “I say you boys oughta kiss and make up! Or get your aggression out wif a good wrassle, a nekkid one!” She grinned from ear to ear, and Billiam snorted out a laugh.
“Only in his dreams and my nightmares, Shemmy,” he grunted before turning and bracing himself. The second punch landed in his left eye and forced him to fall back against the bar. Shemmy froze the next cloth with no prompting this time and handed it to the punching bag.
“Why do you think I’d be good for protecting you, if you apparently cannot stand me and I am content bashing your head in? You are being stupid, Billiam,” Zan chided, while rubbing the knuckles on his right hand and finally sitting beside him at the bar. “You are being rather morbid too. Obviously if you do bring me with you, there is no way either of us will be meeting our graves.”
“Zan, you know you owe me at least this much.” Shemmy saw a pain fall over Billiam’s face, but it was not physical. He edged over a bit in his chair, only getting an inch from Zan, but even that short distance made him feel more comfortable. “I need Leke to lead her own team, and you are the only other I have confidence in. I feel you will protect me just as fiercely and probably be less clouded by emotions than your sister. She loves me like family, an unshakeable bond. Your affection for me is far more practical, thus I feel you will have better judgment when it comes to the protection of myself and the prince.” He looked at him seriously and grimaced before turning forward. “That is my reason. I just uttered the short version.”
He held his hand out to Zan, who feigned a disgruntled face and shook it briefly. In truth, his heart was beating like a jackhammer, feeling things get better between them and having Billiam’s hand in his own. It had been a year since he had touched him in any way.
“I dun get it,” Shemmy groaned, hating to be left in the dark on a topic so juicy.
“You don’t need to,” said Zan with his large fake smile. His mood was immediately lifted by the small contact with Billiam. “You really should get your meeting back in order, sir. Also, no more of this!” he lectured, grabbing the bottle and both glasses in one swift motion. “No one wants to hear about a life-threatening mission from a drunkard.”
“About that, you are telling the truth,” Billiam replied, pulling the frozen rags from his eyes and staring at his reflection in the bar’s shining, metal sink. “I don’t think I’ll have black eyes. Just a bit puffy, I’d say, with no permanent deformation, thank Spirit,” he muttered after pulling himself away from his reflection. He looked much more disturbed by his proximity to Zan than by his swollen face.
“No matter how mad I may be, I wouldn’t be stupid enough to damage a face like that beyond repair,” Zan replied cheerfully.
Shemmy scratched her head as she followed the men toward the meeting table. She had thought that hearing them speak would shed light on whatever was going on between her soon-to-be travel companions. Conversely, their interaction provided her with more questions than answers. She could only hope Billiam’s interactions with Micah would be much more satisfying.
The boys and Shemmy arrived back at the table just as the girls and myself had taken our seats. Zan jabbed Roland in the side to wake him up, encouraging an entirely unmanly yelp to leap out of him. He was about to be angry but could see his strange friend was feeling better. Instead, he returned the hard poke with a smile. “All sussed out, then?”
Zan nodded and grinned sheepishly across the table to Katrina. She forced a smile and returned the gesture.
Malcolm set down his pen and sat up straight in his chair. He hoarsely asked, “Are the juveniles done reliving primary school, now?” Ackerman scoffed loudly at this, causing a small coughing fit.
Malcolm was a portly fellow. He was scarcely as tall as Shemmy but made up for his diminished height in rotundity. His balloon of a body seemed a bit less silly when clad in his well-tailored suit than it had in the ill-fitting chain mail back in our heyday. His skin was a golden tan, and his eyes were hooded, traits he inherited from his ancestors who came to Drummond from Khur about a century prior. He was thirty-eight years of age and was completely cynical and utterly rational. I rather enjoyed that about him, actually.
“Right, I am quite done providing entertainment for this afternoon. Everyone else?” Billiam said, grinning and sending a look to each of the younger members at the table. “Well, I didn’t quite plan my responses to inquiries as thoroughly as I did the presentation itself. Do forgive me.
“In the briefings Pierre will be handing out, there are specific tasks for each group. The main objective is to find people to stand behind our prince. We must get their sympathy, their love, and their loyalty. We will be strangers from a country whose current leader is feared and hated, so this will take tact and persistence. The key is to show how joining us will benefit them, not ourselves. We will be fully prepared for battle, but after the prince’s extraction,
the only group expected to have genuine violence thrust upon them is my own. It is important you know what you all mean to me and that you are not sacrificial lambs. That may sound weak for a leader to say, but we are the only real strength remaining in this nation, and that makes each of our lives invaluably precious. This being said, give your all, fulfill each task in the briefing as quickly and completely as possible, and take the utmost care of one another.” Everyone yelled a small cheer and gave the salute of Logos to their leader, by holding their hand lengthways from their face and raising it swiftly above their heads into a fist. Shemmy was exempt from this, of course.
“Gear and weapons shall be prepared at nine tomorrow morning. Pack light, and to the specifics of your location, of course. You shouldn’t wear your little dresses in Alafor, Jessica. You’ll come back with frostbitten legs!” he teased with a smile.
“About that….” Jess rebutted before trailing off. She stared at the table, twirling her finger in her hair until Katrina nudged her hard with her shoulder. “Right, well, I don’t wanna go. Katrina said she would. I gotta see those kittens when Buttercup pops. Someone needs to make sure the perfect, most stupid-looking one is saved for Shemmy. That, and I refuse to wear sweaters….” It wasn’t the most convincing performance, as she was still not thrilled about having to stay behind.
“Oh, so Kat refuses her cat duty? That’s a bit unexpected. I guess you and Shemmy really are fast friends, huh, Jess?” he asked, not believing her reasons at all, but also not caring enough to anger the girls.
“Katrina, are you sure?” Zan called, attempting to get up before she waved him down dismissively.
“You were worried about me staying here, weren’t you? I will be fine; I’ll have your sister with me. I’ve always wanted to see Alafor, and I obviously have a much more suited wardrobe!” she replied, sounding warm but looking distant.
Billiam was a bit baffled but felt he could stop the meeting now, regardless. “That sounds fine, girls, if you are so decided. Each team can meet with Pierre individually to get their briefing pamphlets and discuss any particulars. As I said, nine in the morning is when we will be equipping, and nine forty-five we move out. Until then, take care of whatever you need. It feels like short notice, but we’ve been waiting for this for five years, so it really isn’t. In fact, it’s about damn time!” We all cheered and saluted again. Shemmy attempted, but smacked herself lightly in the face and then gave up. “Make sure you all have some fun tonight! No oversleeping!” That last part came with a thunk on the head for Shemmy.
Defiant Revival Page 5