The Pearl Savage

by Tamara Rose Blodgett

  “Fetch it then, servant.”

  “Yes, my Queen.”

  Clara loathed her mother.

  Elvira brought the list to Clara, and while looking it over noticed a different thing. “What is this, spirits?” Clara looked up sharply, her suspicions confirmed.

  “It was Frederic’s suggestion…” Ada remarked casually.

  He wishes to have her drunk with something stronger than grapes; this would aid his plan of power.

  “Are the grapes not enough?” Clara asked with transparent disdain.

  “Watch your tone, Princess.”

  Clara waited.

  “I tire of wine, methinks spirits a refreshing distraction.”

  Liar, Clara thought.

  Well, she would not be getting any spirits on this journey. That thought appeared the happiest of the day.

  Olive entered the Queen’s chamber. After a low curtsey, she turned to Clara. “Princess, Sarah has requested your presence.”

  “Really?” Ada’s eyes narrowed and Clara rushed to explain.

  “I was compelled to cut our visit short one night past.”

  “That is not what I heard. I was told that you arrived back at the Royal Manse, half past one this morn.”

  Clara was speechless for a heartbeat. “We had much to discuss.”

  The Queen approached Clara, all subdued violence-in-motion, her hand moving restlessly over the strand of pearls she always wore about her neck.

  “Do not let your discussions stray to royal tales, Clara.”

  “I will not.”

  “Will not, what?”

  “I will not, my Queen.”

  Ada smiled cruelly, and turned on her heel, giving a dismissive wave to Clara.

  Clara was almost to the door when she spoke again, never turning, “What will you tell others when they see your face?”

  “That I fell, Queen Ada.”

  “Very well.”

  And Clara walked out, eternally grateful to leave the space the Queen occupied.

  CHAPTER 18

  President Bowen was as distressed as Bracus over the Princess’s state, but was equally interested as to why Bracus would have been in close enough proximity to know that the Princess had been thus abused.

  “I do not have a plausible explanation but I had a feeling of foreboding…”

  “One day past?” President Bowen asked.

  Bracus nodded.

  Bowen palmed his chin thoughtfully, bringing it over the front of his face, rubbing back and forth in irritation while Bracus waited.

  “I cannot dismiss the relevance of that. I remember very well your intuition saving us during the fragment conflict.”

  Still Bracus waited and the silence drew out.

  Finally, Bowen said, “Take half the Band and extract her.”

  Bracus swung around to leave. “Goodman,” Bowen called after him.

  Bracus turned, his body illuminated by the early morning light that filtered in through the cave’s entrance.

  “Keep the casualties at zero, if you can.”

  “Yes, President Bowen,” his chin brushing his sternum in a formal nod.

  Bracus jogged outside the cave where Matthew waited, saddled upon his mount, his eyebrows raised in question.

  “He agrees.”

  Matthew’s shoulders settled into a relieved posture.

  “We must retrieve four members and acquire the Princess.”

  “Including us?”

  Bracus nodded, “Yes, we must keep a contingent here in our absence. There have been sightings of the fragment.”

  Bracus knew that the fragment lurked around the perimeters of the clans, searching for the lone female as easy pickings. Not during his time. It would not happen, had not happened. He was ever vigilant in securing his clan’s safety.

  Matthew brought him back from his thoughts. “Let us take our leave and alert the others.”

  Bracus mounted his horse, and turned her, at the same time stroking the animal’s side. Briar Rose was a fast ride, well trusted. He felt as if they were of one body when he rode upon her.

  ****

  Bracus made careful selection amongst the Band. Philip would accompany him, of course and Jack would stay with Lillian as he would be too much in his head to fight if it were needed.

  He looked at each of the male’s faces and called out, “Philip, Stephen, Matthew, and Joseph.”

  Matthew gave Bracus a hard look. “Captain Goodman, do you think only five is wise? Did the President not say…”

  “He did. But,” and Bracus held up a finger, Briar Rose shifting under his weight, “I am not comfortable leaving the clan with only two of the Band.”

  Philip looked sharply at him, his hand shielding the sunlight from his eyes. “Do you have… a…”

  “Yes. I am disquieted on both fronts. We need to rescue the Princess and defend the clan while the majority of the Band is not here,” Bracus said, looking at each Band member’s upturned face, except for Matthew, who was mounted as he.

  “We mustn’t return to a compromised security. This is the only way I can leave and have my heart stay within my breastbone.”

  The Band laid their fists over their heart and Bracus was moved by their loyalty.

  He dismounted and a lad of about ten and three years took Briar Rose. Bracus turned, telling the boy, “Please give her the oats and only one cube of sugar… you will rot her teeth out of her head, boy!” he said in admonition, but smiled to soften it. That boy took very good care of his mount, who looked upon him quietly as if she understood she would receive a treat.

  He slapped her on her hindquarters, making it a long caress at its end, she neighed softly at him as she was led away to the stable.

  There was much to do and Bracus wished to make the most of it. He gathered up his weapons and a fresh change of tunic for the journey, storing a soft, cotton blanket in a tight weave… what else? Ah! He grabbed his flask, filling it with the salt. It would not have done to forget that! Which reminded him to go to Evelyn and see how she fared with the hot water.

  Bracus approached the cistern with a swinging bucket resting atop. Evelyn gave him her charming smile, her hair tied with a single, blue ribbon of satin.

  “Captain,” she curtsied.

  “Evelyn… how fare you?”

  “Very well this day,” she said, smiling through platinum hairs which escaped their tether.

  He smiled and held up his flask, which she frowned at and Bracus raised his eyebrows.

  “Is it the flask that is lined with duck?”

  He nodded and she sighed with relief. “Good, this will need to be very hot to dissolve the salt and…” she mimed twirling the whole lot of it, “needs to be shaken about like this,” she did it again, “to keep the salt from settling at the bottom and hardening like the clay beneath our feet.”

  Bracus looked down at the dirt floor of his clan and did agree. It was heavily trod upon and acted almost like the cobblestone paths and roads he had seen outside of the clan, where vines grew rampant over everything the eye could see.

  He grabbed the flask away from her and she held on, not letting go until he gave her a good tickle. Finally, she gave in clutching her ribs and giggling as he captured his prize. An important one, as it held the key to the penetration of the sphere.

  The sphere which held the special female, his female his mind whispered. His heart sped in anticipation of rescuing her. For that was what it now was. It was no simple acquisition mission. Not that it ever had been simple. He now had her safety to secure as well. Who preyed upon her? And where were her protectors? Bracus thought yet again as he said goodbye to Evelyn.

  He strode to Briar Rose, the lad Jonathan, gently holding the bridle, being mindful of her mouth. Bracus grabbed the reigns, tossing them over her neck with slack, he stuffed one leather encased foot in the stirrup and heaved his body on the saddle, settling in comfortably.

  The Band looked at Bracus and he looked at who he left behind.
They would be the protectors in their comrades’ absence. It should be sufficient he told himself. But his gut churned and his intuition flared to life, whispering to him it was not a perfect solution.

  They nudged their horses’ sides and the great beasts sprang to life, taking the path that had been trod so often before. That which led outside the clan gates and into the forest below.

  CHAPTER 19

  Clara clutched Sarah in her arms, both women not wanting to say goodbye. Finally, Sarah pulled away and looked into Clara’s face. “You are doing what is right, Princess.”

  “Do not call me thus, I do not deserve the title.”

  “Clara, our People do not wish for your death. And that is what this would be, if you stayed,” Sarah said, a finger tracing first Clara’s lip then the swollen lump which made her eye a fraction of its normal size.

  Clara sighed. “I am glad that you think so highly of me, it will take some doing for me to share your esteem.”

  “It may not be as long as you think, once things settle here…”

  “Or if they do not?” Clara said, anger slipping into her tone.

  “We will not revisit this conversation, it is circular as well you know.”

  Clara did.

  Charles said, “We must go.”

  The women looked at him, sighing then Clara nodded.

  Sarah and Charles embraced each other and she said, “Take care of her, Charles.”

  He looked insulted. “You know that I will.”

  “I must say the words.”

  Charles laid his hand on her shoulder, looking down into her earnest face. “I know, we are all on edge. We will see you sometime.”

  “Yes sometime,” Sarah said sadly.

  Clara ran to her again, skirt pouring behind her, all but flinging herself in Sarah’s arms. “Do not weep for me, there will not be one day that I do not think of you and all that you have been to me.”

  “And I, you,” Sarah said through a voice choked by emotion.

  Charles separated them and pulled her out of Sarah’s vestibule, with no definitive time of returning.

  ****

  Clarence saw Charles’ tall form and that of the Princess in her royal attire and fought his emotions. He was the main guard at the intersection of the trade tunnel and their sphere, and felt derelict in his duties. Yet, after Charles had explained the Princess’ plight, he felt honor-bound to assist them.

  And as she drew near, the evidence of the violence divested upon her stood out in stark relief. Her glorious eyes, usually filled with fire and good humor, were now tight with anxiety and one of them almost swollen shut. Prince Frederic should be put out of his misery, Clarence thought, not for the first time.

  “Greetings, Princess,” Clarence said, bowing low.

  “Please Clarence, Clara is fine. The Queen is not here to notice in any event.”

  Clarence contained his expression of shock as Clara’s face came into view as the light grew brighter at this junction of the sphere. However, she noticed some of the dismay he could not contain and self-consciously covered her face in shame, a small hand in front of the damaged eye.

  Charles took her hand away. “It is I that should be ashamed, as I could not aid you, not you. Never you.”

  “Princess, he is less than a man for having hurt you,” Clarence added in agreement.

  “I could do nothing, and that is what shames me, not the beating.”

  They heard the hissing at the same moment and looked as the tunnel seams released steam to the Outside. That happened at the top of each hour. And sure enough, the time piece that hung, suspended from its copper housing, clanged two chimes, the gears moving almost soundlessly below the crystal.

  “The hour draws near for my replacement to relieve me.”

  Charles was already searching through his knapsack and finally came out with a small crystal vial with cork for a cap.

  The liquid gleamed inside the vial, Charles also extracted a decanter with something in it.

  Clarence raised his brows.

  “Wine. We ‘shared’ a glass before you saw us through the first milepost.”

  “Clever.”

  “I thought so.”

  “Oh! You two, you make me nervous, get on with it.”

  They looked at her, her hands white from clenched tension, their self-congratulation lost in the brevity of the circumstance.

  Humor disappearing, Charles solemnly poured a small amount in the wine decanter. Handing it to Clarence, who took it and brought it to his lips, downing the entire flask.

  Giving it back to Charles he asked, “How long?”

  “I do not know, but soon.”

  Clarence nodded and sat upon the chair pulled up closely to the small table that was high and narrow. Upon it was the ledger of the comings and goings of all who passed to and fro the Kingdom of Ohio.

  Clara and Charles stared at Clarence, his eyelids heavy. Finally, they drooped closed, and Charles approached him, catching him as he slipped from the chair. “Clarence, Clarence, wake up!”

  The twilight drug had worked. Now Clarence was safe from prosecution, the blame placed squarely on their shoulders.

  ****

  They moved quickly through the tunnel, making haste. There would be a rest station only a mile ahead but Charles wished for distance. They needed to arrive at the least-heavily trafficked part of the tunnel, then use the salt mixture to penetrate the sphere wall.

  Clara was literally gasping for breath, the clothes she wore a hindrance, the corset constricting her breathing. The crown gleamed like a living thing atop her head.

  Charles had stopped to allow a brief rest with water; Clara and he guzzling the lot of it like thieves in the desert.

  “I am so tired,” Clara said, dangerously close to complaining.

  “It is not much further, Clara,” Charles replied in a calmer voice than he felt.

  He drew her body into the circle of his arms and she gradually stilled, wrapping her arms around his waist, resting her head on his breastbone. “Thank you for coming with me. I feel safer with you. And thank you for not hating me.”

  Charles pulled back, looking down into her injured face. “I could never hate you. Do not say such. You cannot help who you were born to any more than anyone. We are righting an injustice.”

  Charles was not entirely convinced that she believed him.

  They replaced the glass bottles of water in the knapsacks. Charles checked his timepiece, thinking that Clarence’s replacement would arrive at three o’clock and they needed to breach the sphere at the same time.

  Ten minutes hence.

  He grabbed Clara’s hand and they hurried on.

  ****

  Bracus rode hard, the Band flanking him, Briar Rose a sleek machine beneath him, her breath labored but steady. As the trees thinned on either side and the path narrowed, Bracus slowed, pressing his thighs into her sides, gently squeezing. Briar Rose slowed to a trot, then a walk, stopping as the crest of the hill came into view.

  The Band dismounted, leading the horses to a small stream which flowed along the interior forest border. They drank greedy gulps, their sides heaving from the fifteen mile ride.

  Philip came to stand beside Bracus, putting one hand up to shield his eyes as he looked upon the sun, ascertaining its position in the sky. “Mayhap two hours past noon.”

  “No, I say near three.” Philip leveled a look at Bracus.

  Stephen sighed. “We do not have time for sibling rivalry about the time Captain.”

  Bracus did not need to be reminded of his duties and turned his penetrating stare to Stephen who threw up his hands, stalking away.

  Tempers were short.

  Bracus knew that much depended on the success of this mission. He sighed, turning to Philip. “We let the horses have their fill and tether them here.” Bracus indicated the pole they had fashioned for their exploration outside the forest perimeter.

  Philip grinned, giving Bracus’ shoulder a hard c
lap.

  Matthew approached the pair, his solemn expression unchanged as always. “What is next?”

  Bracus outlined the strategy to Joseph, Philip, Matthew and Stephen. Matthew asked thoughtful questions, but it was Joseph who asked the most intelligent, “What if she is guarded?”

  “We assumed until most recently, that she would be under heavy guard because of her stature in the hierarchy of the kingdom. Now, we are not sure what is happening,” Bracus shrugged.

  Philip said, “It is best for preparedness. Let us assume that she will be under heavy guard.”

  “Our females would be!” Stephen scoffed.

  “That is our way, our necessity, but sphere-dwellers…” Joseph trailed off with disdain.

  “We will have answers soon enough. Let us keep our speculations and curiosities in the back of our minds. We do not need to be inside our heads this day, but cognizant of the dangers,” Bracus said.

  Their heads almost touching, leaning over the mock dirt map of approach that Bracus had outlined, they stood, straightening their posture. Philip rotated his massive neck, the muscles bunching and releasing with the movement. Joseph placed one of his hands on the opposite elbow, stretching the arm behind his head, then doing the same for the opposing side.

  The Band was restless.

  They were ready.

  CHAPTER 20

  Clara could see the rest stop just ahead, nothing more than a distended crescent along the wall of the sphere. It afforded a bench, towel and a spigot which stood three feet above ground, fed by the underwater copper piping that had been laid by the Guardians over a hundred years past.

  As Charles and she approached, she was grateful for the sight of the slender, copper pipe, its goose neck posture a welcome view.

  “It will be divine to have another spot of water,” Clara said gratefully. Her sides were burning and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.

  Charles nodded, gaining his bearings as he looked Outside; everything looked as it always did, the Great Forest Outside a familiar flag post. Turning, he dug for the water bottles again, and filling them, he saw that the cleanse had been most recent as the water from the spigot was still chilled.