by J. McSpadden
It took everything Camille had not to turn tail and head back to Sierra Village. If the threat had been neutralized, was there any reason not to go home? It made no sense to keep running from home unless it was safer for her to keep her distance, but why? Sierra Village held no danger to her, did it?
Strangely enough, the notion of returning to Peter's home rubbed Camille the wrong way. It wasn't just that she’d left, Peter had made it very clear she was no longer welcome to stay. Perhaps the deal between Peter and Vesyon had run its course, or worse —she’d run out her welcome. She knew her part in Vesyon's plan, whatever it had be originally, was now far off course. She wouldn’t be returning to Sierra Village, there was more to it all than the Chimera, more to it than her lost history as a Praetorian.
After an hour of hunting, she made her way back with one rabbit and three squirrels, annoyed with such a small takeaway. The soft leaves and grass beneath her feet muffled her steps, and she crept silently over to the camp, listening in on Vesyon's and Theo's conversation as their voices floated through the open space between the bare frigid trees.
"It's good to see you Theo, but I gave you strict orders to stay in the village. The borders of Aspera are wide open, and there is unrest in the East, making our patrols important. We have no idea what to expect from the outside kingdoms," Vesyon said, pushing the kindling back and forth with a stick.
"Yeah, I know, but the second Neeko showed up, I knew she'd be with you. You couldn't have expected me not to come," Theo said pointedly.
"Oh, and I guess I'm just supposed to believe you 'happened' upon her in the forest a few days ago? Don't try to con me, Theo. I know you better than that," Vesyon said.
Theo kept quiet for a moment, staring idly into the dancing flames. He seemed so young and weary for a sliver of a second, his shoulders drooping forward as though they couldn't withstand the pressure of his internal torture. What was troubling him? Camille felt a sort of tenderness and desire to comfort him—but then he straightened with aggressive bravado, and it disintegrated into nothing.
Vesyon hadn't noticed the transition of Theo's body language and continued as though Theo was listening. "I expect you to do what you're told. If the High Court found us—"
"I don't care about the High King or his Regent. I'm sick of hiding Vee! Besides—" Theo interrupted, picking at a wayward pine-cone and tossing it into the crackling flames, "nobody has seen the King since the massacre. We're fighting against an enemy that no longer exists! The border kingdoms are pushing back against foreign invaders, which is its own new beast." Theo tossed a handful of brush and twigs into the fire, and the flames danced and sparked wildly. "There's also this new problem we hadn't planned for," Theo said, his head tilting in the direction Camille had entered the brush. "I doubt you'll be able to keep her whereabouts secret much longer."
Vesyon sighed. "I'm sure he already knows she's fled Sierra Village. Peter said the Moon Tax collector saw her blood medallion, and it's only a matter of time before someone else recognizes her. Despite his absence from the throne, LeMarc will learn of her whereabouts. I'm sure of it. He sent the Chimera after her, I've no doubt."
"Why does he want her so badly?"
"I don't know why. We have no knowledge of what happened to her after the destruction of Charlie Town, but he obviously wants her back."
Camille found it interesting that Vesyon habitually referred to the High King without his title. He knew a lot more than he was willing to discuss, and by the stern look of determination blazing across his darkened features, she had a hunch that pulling her from Sierra Village was the beginning of a plan set in place long ago.
"Does she remember anything?" Theo asked, sounding fragile once more.
"This is not the place to discuss her past."
Theo heeded Vesyon's harsh tone, albeit begrudgingly. "So, let me get this straight," he said as he poked the stick he held into the belly of the dancing flames. "The High King has sent bloodthirsty monsters after a Praetorian everyone thought was dead or exiled to Olin because of one glimpse of her medallion? Do I have that right?"
Vesyon scoffed before flipping open a pouch filled with shelled nuts. "LeMarc knew she was alive and within the Asperian Kingdom. He's known since I rescued her that she didn't miraculously 'disappear.' Now, because of that oaf, Grenswald, he found where I hid her. It's only going to get worse from here."
Camille couldn't keep herself in the shadows any longer. "How could this possibly get any worse?" she asked, ignoring the look of annoyance on Vesyon's face and shoving the game into Theo's hands. "I'm not going anywhere with you until you tell me what's going on—Chimera or not."
"It's not so easy to explain," Vesyon said.
"Try me," she shot back.
Theo got to work on skinning the game as Camille settled onto a round stone near the fire.
"You already know what the plan is. We're leading the Chimera away," Vesyon said, cracking a nut and popping the salty insides into his mouth.
"And we killed those Chimera—all twenty-seven of them," Camille said. "So why are we still on the move, and why is he here?"
Theo smirked at this but continued his work on the game.
"Theo's presence here is inconsequential. He disregarded his orders to stay behind and will be reprimanded once we get back to Romeo Village," Vesyon explained.
Theo grunted as he chucked a skinned squirrel back at Camille. "Like you could keep me away, Vee. Besides, you know as well as I do that my duty is to be here with you. I'm tired of staying under the radar and playing 'lead babysitter' of Romeo Village."
"Duty? What duty?" Camille asked.
"The duty of being a Praetorian. Theo should've stayed in Romeo Village, until we arrived, to guard the people, but he apparently wants to do things his own way," Vesyon said, grabbing a portion of the squirrel meat and wrapping it around a skinned branch to dangle over the fire.
"If my duty is to the people, why am I here with you?" Camille asked.
"I'd watch that mouth of yours, Cam. The sharp attitude is completely ineffective with him. You can't ruffle his feathers; I've seen you try and fail many times," Theo said while attacking a particularly stubborn piece of blackened meat with his front teeth.
Camille and Vesyon each stared venomous daggers at Theo.
"Well, it's true!" Theo burst out, his lips covered in shiny squirrel grease. "You know she's good at weaseling her way under someone's skin." Theo shook the animal's bone in Vesyon's direction.
"You might know something about that, hmm?" Vesyon said under his breath.
"You can shut your trap, 'mister high and mighty.' Just because you have the personality of a rock doesn't mean you're better than me!" Theo shouted. "I have feelings, you know. I'm a sensitive man."
"'Better than,' did you say? I can't argue with your logic."
Theo opened his mouth to shoot another snide comment in Vesyon's direction, but Camille wasn't in the mood to listen to a wordplay cockfight. "Enough! Please," she said with a huff, doing her best not to release the burning frustration boiling in the pit of her belly. "Just answer the question."
Vesyon gave Theo one last look before wearily turning his attention toward Camille. "There are a lot of things I can't explain," Vesyon began. "You understand the importance of that, right? That it's for your own good?"
She took a minute to register his words, the same ones Peter had said the first day she woke up. "Whether it's for my own good or not, I'd like to have the choice to decide my own fate." Camille finished eating her squirrel meat and tossed the bone onto the ground. "So no, I don't understand the point of keeping valuable information from me. I just want to know where I come from. I want to know what I am. I want to know who I was before I woke up in Peter's home. Is that so much to ask?"
Vesyon's heart appeared to break a little at her words. His face scrunched in what looked like pain, but the emotions vanished as quickly as they'd appeared, and his visage was once again impenetrable.
"I'm sorry man, but I'm with her. She deserves to know," Theo said, his eyes hooded with defiance. "I should be allowed to tell her—"
"No!" Vesyon roared. "Camille—we aren't keeping information from you. We're protecting you from an uncertain reaction. We want you to remember your past at the right time, when you're ready."
"And if I don't remember things on my own?"
"You'll know everything you need to when the time is right," Vesyon cut back. His voice didn't carry an ounce of emotion, but his eyes were filled with concern saying everything his words couldn't. Despite the harsh, dry tone, Camille saw an undercurrent of tenderness there.
Vesyon cared about her, and despite his use of manipulation to pull her away from Peter and Lunci, she trusted him. Perhaps it was the way he looked at her, those grey, storming eyes filled to the brim with honest concern, or maybe her intuition was feeding her a long-forgotten memory.
"A year ago, you brought me to Peter's. Right?" Camille asked.
Vesyon's lips pressed into a hard line as he nodded, his hesitance igniting Camille's curiosity that much more.
"Why?"
"The why isn't important; it had to be done. You are extremely vital, Camille, in ways I can't even begin to explain. Peter was the only one I could trust to watch over you while I solidified our plans. Few people know anything about what happened to you back in—"
Without warning, Vesyon's head snapped up in attention. An intense, primal awareness slipped over his features as he crouched, ready to attack with a blade in his grip. "We need to leave. Now," he ordered, tossing his pack over his shoulder. He kicked dirt and wet leaves over the fire, causing the flames to plume into a swirl of white smoke.
Camille saw it then, a lazy swirl of ashy smoke twirling up into the stars, the signal of life undone. The bitter stench of burnt flesh filled her nostrils. It smashed into her system like a tidal wave, vibrant reds and flickering orange, a tapestry of horror laid out before her like a grotesque masterpiece. She shook her head, pinched her eyes closed as hard as she could but the smell of death increased.
"Camille!" Theo barked at her.
Opening her eyes again, she looked up to see the swirling trails of smoke had vanished, the bitter stench and canvas of endless red having disappeared from sight.
"Grab your things," Theo commanded, while Camille remained sitting in a haze. He tossed her a bag and several loose belongings, and she fumbled with them, hands shaking at the men's urgency.
"Camille," Vesyon barked from the distant tree line. "Let's move, they're gaining on us!"
Glancing up across the misty wooded expanse, she saw a group of soldiers charging toward them through the foggy haze dressed in full black from head to toe. Their armor shone dully in the evening atmosphere, a chinking tune of impending doom sounding out with their horses' every gallop. Strips of red leather in two straight lines encircled their right bicep: the mark of a High King Equestrian.
"The High King's Guard?" Theo snarled. "They're far away from home."
Vesyon pulled his sword free of its scabbard, and it appeared to Camille that running was no longer an option. They didn't have time; they would have to stand and fight. Camille had never engaged in hand-to-hand combat against a person before. The idea of killing another Asperian bothered her, but she had no other choice. She wasn't a murderer—she was a Praetorian protecting herself. Wasn't that something different?
As the men swarmed around them, Camille waited for the warmth to fill her, for the energy to flood her system, but nothing happened. In her moment of hesitation, her Praetorian abilities failed her. Doubt crept in, a horribly cold and debilitating feeling that rendered her arms and legs useless.
Vesyon moved first, slicing his blade swiftly across the torso of the first soldier to arrive. The man fell with a thunderous crash just as Theo angled in front of Camille, taking on three more soldiers at once. She was quickly left to her own devices, cowering on the ground, hands still gripping her pack, unable to move.
"Hello, little girl," one of the soldiers mocked, entwining his fingers in her long red hair. He yanked her head back so that she was forced to look up at him. The sour stench seeping through his leather chest guard hit her in the face like a charging predator, harsh and unyielding. His heart was pounding, every thud ringing like a battle call in her ears. He wasn't a weak man by any means, and his hands alone looked as though they could crush a man's skull.
She screamed inwardly at herself to move, to act, but her body steadily ignored her. What was going on?! She was Praetorian for Ma'Nada sake, and yet her instincts refused to react.
A second soldier lunged at her, sword in one hand and a dagger in the other, angling to slice right through her. Her body jolted awake at the imminent threat, and she pivoted away, the motion tearing out a chunk of her hair. Her scalp bloomed with pain and tears pricked her eyes as she swayed on her feet, feeling a sense of powerlessness at the mercy of these men.
"Have some training, do you?" the first soldier said with a crooked grin, shaking her loose strands from his meaty fingers. His teeth were pearly white and straight, his face, though possibly considered pleasant, contorted with a nasty sneer of disgust making Camille shiver.
He didn't give her a chance to respond before slamming her head against the tree trunk behind her. She slumped to the ground, her vision swimming as her skull pricked with the rushed urgency to heal itself. Blood crept down the side of her neck, warm and wet, as both soldiers standing in front of her laughed, discussing what to do next.
"You grab her feet, I'll get the top," the first soldier said as he reached for her hands.
"That would be a mistake," Camille gasped, desperately trying to regain her equilibrium. "You should run while you still have a chance."
"Camille!" Vesyon roared a mere ten feet away. "Get away from her, you filthy dogs!"
She should've been able to fight them off, to protect herself, but as one man took her ankles and the other reached under her armpits, Camille's instincts barely flinched.
They pulled her just out of eyesight behind a sizeable flowering bush, dropping her carelessly on the mossy, mud-slicked ground. One man gripped her waist and began to tug aggressively at her pants, his dirt-riddled nails digging into her skin.
"Cam, where are you!" Theo screamed, voice brimming with terror.
She squirmed at the soldiers' efforts, scrambling to get away as one soldier managed to slip a hand inside her pants while the other groped at her breasts.
"It's been far too long since I've touched a woman. Fight all you want, little girl—no one is coming to save you," the first soldier said, grabbing greedily at her naked hips.
He groaned and shuddered with excitement as he pinched her flesh, telling his comrade to hold her down. "This one has some meat on her, and I want to see it!"
The second soldier ripped her shirt and vest wide open as he grappled to press her arms into the mud. One hand cinched down her windpipe to hold her in place as Camille heard the first soldier's pants hit the ground by her feet.
A small voice, piercing and unrelenting, broke free from the depths of her soul. There was no way she was going to let this happen. She would fight to the death if she had to; fear be damned. Camille slammed her boot heel against the first soldier's crotch.
"Agh!" he wailed, slumping over her. Camille felt the familiar rush of blood flow through the tiny veins around her eyes, and she practically whimpered in relief. Her Praetorian instincts took over, and she lost herself to the motions, no longer crippled by panic or pain.
Punching upwards, her fist struck the chin of the soldier holding her down. As his comrade fell forward, they collided into each other with enough force that she was able to pull up her pants and scoot away from them both. With the flood of Praetorian instinct surging through her veins, she allowed a tiny smile to flit across her face as she righted her clothing the best she could.
"Got a little fight in you, eh? Think this is fun?" the second soldier growled, spitting blood
on the ground and wiping at his busted chin. "Good—I like 'em feisty!"
He lunged toward her again, sword in hand. Camille evaded the blade and yanked him into a headlock, twisting his chin with such violent force that she heard the quiet pop of his spine snapping. She dropped his dead weight on the forest floor like a heavy sack of grain, then removed a small knife from his belt. The first soldier gawked at her, his pants still down and his hands cradling his groin.
"I told you," Camille said as she wiped the sticky wetness of blood from her cheek, "that attacking me was a mistake."
The guard backed up and tripped over a tree root, crashing over it as Camille pursued him. She pulled his hair as hard as he'd done to her, driving the blade straight into the side of his neck.
The soldier's face went white, his eyes bulging purple as his mouth opened and closed like a beached fish.
"Struggle all you want," she said, throwing his words back at him in a smooth, whispering lilt, "no one is coming to save you."
"Who are you?" he gurgled.
Camille removed the knife from his neck and watched the dying man's crimson blood coat her forearm, trailing into her shirtsleeve. "My name is Camille Scipio, and I'm a Praetorian."
"Camille?"
She spun with a menacing snarl, but it was only Theo jogging through the trees. His blue eyes moved from her bloodied weapon and torn clothing to the dead men beside her and understanding darkened his features.
"They came at me. They almost they pulled my pants down—they were going to—" Camille blubbered, dropping the knife beside the first soldier's slain form as her entire body began to shake. What have I done?
"It's okay, you're okay," Theo said as he approached with slow, calculated steps. She shifted warily but didn't move away from him despite her desire to bolt. "I'm not going to hurt you, but I need to see your head. It's bleeding a lot."