Of Wars and Weddings
Page 11
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During the trip back all The Groom could think about was the meeting. Preparations had to be made. It dawned on him that the two men responsible for poisoning the governor still needed to be found but the coming conflict took precedence. He didn't care about a new United States or even the old one - he just wanted to live with his wife in peace. He was certain his sister wouldn't make a move without their cousin’s say-so. If he had to he could strike first against his sister but that would risk forcing his cousin's hand too early, and there was no way he could hold him off.
Such thoughts occupied him all the way to his office and up until his wife came home. When she saw the look on his face The Bride became concerned. Her concern increased when her husband recounted the conversation on the tape. But despite her apprehension she still maintained a comforting, albeit startling steadfastness about her. The Groom often asked himself how she was able to remain calm in the face of adversity but that’s what soothed him in times like these. He’d need it again very soon.
His wife was looking at him. She said, "What happens next?"
"We wait. We wait and build."
"Do we have time?"
"More or less. My cousin still has to consolidate his power up north. If it hasn't happened already New York will surrender, from there Massachusetts, and then the rest."
The Bride said his brother's name. "He said he'd defend you. You trust him, right?"
He sighed. She didn't know his brother like he did. Tomorrow if The Prince's army crossed into Maryland, his brother would move heaven and earth to help... And then he'd ask for something in return. That's just the way he was. He said as much to his wife. The Groom said, "My brother won't make a move until our cousin does. Until that happens he's stuck trying to take North Carolina, and that conquest is going to be drawn out. More than anyone thinks, and more than he's willing to admit out loud."
The Bride thought about it. She said, "Yes, you're right."
Both fell silent.
Something fell from The Groom’s eyes and hit the table. He stared at the spot until his vision began blurring. He didn't know he was crying until it came in a flood and he was hiding his face in his hands. The incident at the reception. His cousin's betrayal. His sister's revenge. It had all become too much, too fast. The Bride embraced him in protective arms and he buried his face in her chest. In the back of his mind somewhere he felt the hardness of the blue sapphire necklace he had given her.
In between sobs he asked, "What am I going to do?"
She kissed his face and forehead. She said, "We'll figure it out. We always do. And if it becomes too much I'll protect you."
The Groom nodded.
She said, "I'll protect you. I swear it."
And with those words he was calmed. The tears stopped and his dread had disappeared. Everything would be fine. War would come and they’ll face it prepared. But more importantly, they would face it together.
Epilogue
The Chemist
The man's black skin was gleaming with sweat and blood. Some of the blood was his, but most belonged to the man whose lifeless body was lying on the floor next to him. In that small, dark room the gunshot that felled him sounded like a cannon. The bullet had entered the back of the man's skull and out the front, splattering his partner with blood and awful. The person wielding the gun had been making slow laps around him until they stopped. The black man felt the muzzle press against his temple and he began to whimper. In a creaking voice he said, "Please, I did what you asked."
"You poisoned the wrong person," said The Chemist.
The man was breathing hard. "God..."
The Chemist pressed the gun harder into the kneeling man's temple until it cut into his skin. "There is no God."
"No, please. Please! How were we supposed to know the fat man was gonna drink the wine? We laced it just like you ordered us to. I offered the glasses to them like we planned but-"
"You failed. They were supposed to die and now they're out of reach."
The man looked for a way out with wild eyes but found none. He was held down by thick chains bolted to the floor. He said, "I can make it up to you. I can kill the woman first. I can get close to her. I can-"
"There's no need," said The Chemist before pulling the trigger. The report was loud and deafening in the confined space. A red mist puffed out the other side of the man's head and the would-be assassin slumped over and had nothing more to say.
Without a second thought The Chemist walked past the two bodies and rapped on the metal door. A peep hole appeared as the guard on the other side slid it open. Seeing The Chemist the man closed the peep hole and unlocked the heavy metal door. As it swung open The Chemist walked past the guard who asked, "How do you want me to dispose of them?"
The Chemist reached the stairs and spoke without turning. "Toss them into the furnace." The guard nodded his head as The Chemist ascended.
The floor opened inside a small warehouse in an abandoned part of Baltimore. A young woman was pacing back and forth until she saw The Chemist. She walked up to her boss and said, "You were down there a long time."
"Yes."
"Did they say anything useful?"
The Chemist gave her a sardonic look. "Other than they fucked up? No."
The woman shrugged. "Figured."
Remembering the gun The Chemist handed it to the young woman who took it with two dainty fingers. She disliked guns. "Clean it and put it away once you're done."
The woman nodded. "Yes, ma'am." The Chemist began walking away until the woman called out to her. She turned. "But, ma’am, the arrangements-"
The Chemist snickered. "You take care of it," she said and walked away. The woman gulped and thought how annoying this task was going to be. It was going to be a really long day.