The Road To Avea

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The Road To Avea Page 27

by Lynn Lorenz


  "But I have to talk to her."

  "She asked to be transferred." The chief's fist clenched and he took a step forward.

  For a split second, Stefan's heart stopped. The thought of Sarah gone from him was almost as bad as the thought of her with someone else.

  "You didn't grant it, did you?" His voice dropped and he stepped back.

  "No, I did not. She then offered to resign her commission." Damon advanced on Stefan as he spoke. "I refused that also."

  Backing up, Stefan met the wall.

  Damon stood so close to Stefan their chests touched. He spoke from between gritted teeth. Stefan hadn't seen Damon so mad in a long time. "If you weren't a grown man, Stefan, I'd turn you over my knee and beat some sense into you. Fool! What did you say to her? What did you do?"

  Stefan could see the water standing in Thatcher's eyes. It hurt to see the disappointment on his face, and Stefan didn't know how to seek Damon's forgiveness or salvage his damaged honor.

  Damon was right. He needed a good beating.

  "I only wanted to protect her."

  "This is protecting her? The One God save us from fools." Damon turned on his heels and strode away.

  Stefan would rather have been on the receiving end of Damon's fists than left with only himself and Damon's contempt.

  Stefan took a last look at Sarah's door and then 'ported to his office downstairs.

  * * * *

  Leaving the Avea train station, Sarah flagged down a carriage to the house where she once lived. As the one-horse buggy turned the corner, they passed the chapel where just six months ago she'd spent her spare time praying and thinking. She had a feeling she'd be back there on her favorite bench before long. She had much to think and pray about.

  Her carpetbag felt like it was filled with bricks as she trudged up the steps up to the second-floor rooms. Sarah put her key in the lock and opened the door.

  "Luci, I'm back."

  Luci crushed Sarah to her chest. Then, holding her at arm's length, she examined her. "Are you well?"

  "Fine, really, Luci. I'm fine."

  Sarah put her carpetbag in her room and looked around. It was familiar and comfortable, but for the first time it didn't feel like home.

  "Let's have dinner first, then we'll stay up late and talk." Luci sat on the sofa and pulled Sarah down beside her.

  Sarah only wanted to sleep. Perhaps here, away from Stefan, she could. "Can we talk tomorrow, dearest? I don't think I can do it tonight." Sarah's eyes met Luci's and she tried to smile.

  "Of course. Oh, Sarah, I don't like seeing you like this." Luci began to cry.

  "I'm fine. Please, don't cry. I'm not."

  "Why aren't you? It's as if you've pulled the shutters closed. You're scaring me, Sarah."

  Sarah opened her mouth to speak, but instead, tears came, hot, salty, and for an hour it seemed they wouldn't end. Luci held her friend in her arms as Sarah wept, her body shaking with the sobs.

  That stupid, thoughtless, arrogant bastard,Luci raved to herself. Didn't he know what he had in Sarah?

  At last, Sarah seemed to empty the well of her sorrow. She sat back and wiped her face with a handkerchief.

  "Do you still love him, Sarah?" Luci watched Sarah's face, so sad, as if she would never be happy again.

  "What does it matter anyway?" Sarah closed her eyes and leaned back on the couch. "He doesn't love me."

  "But I saw him, Sarah. I saw the way he looked at you. I saw his love for you." Luci couldn't understand what had brought about this change. She would have sworn the man was in love with Sarah.

  "It was all an act, Luci. He said he was good at disguising himself, and he is. He's the best."

  Luci wondered if Stefan had told Sarah about the other women just to push her away. That sounded more like the inspector than this image of a man with a girl in every village. But for what possible reason? Perhaps he was insane.

  "He'll come for you, Sarah. I know it. Once he realizes he's made a mistake and discovers he can't live without you, he'll come." She said the words, but even she had a hard time believing them.

  "That's a wonderful, romantic notion, Luci. Except, there's nothing romantic about the hurt I feel. I'm going to transfer to another station. If Thatcher won't approve that, I'll resign, whether he permits it or not."

  "You can't resign, Sarah. You've worked so hard to get where you are."

  "How can I stay there? Knowing Stefan is with someone else?" She shook her head. "I'll go insane if I stay. What should I do, Luci? How do I stop loving him?" Sarah's face held expectation as she gazed at her friend.

  Luci knew the heartache of a love gone wrong. "Time, dearest. It's the only thing I've found that dulls the pain. Eventually, if you're lucky, there'll be someone else to make you forget."

  "That's what Inspector Loch said."

  Sarah pulled her legs under her and put her head on her knees. Luci wrapped a small quilt over her shoulders and left her on the sofa, staring into the fire.

  Luci went to her room, took out her pen, conjured a parchment, and began to write. After sealing the letter, she pulled on her boots and grabbed her cloak, then fastened it around her. Kneeling next to her best friend, she said, "Sarah, I'm going out for a while. I need to prepare to go to the estate. Mama and Papa want me to visit tomorrow."

  Sarah nodded. Her gaze never left the fire.

  * * * *

  Inspector Mercy Loch stood in Thatcher's office with a worried look on her face and her hands on her hips.

  "You need to do something, Damon. I think Stefan's drunk. Yesterday, it was just a foul temper. Now he's locked himself in his office and missed his duty shift. Even Firestone refuses to enter. When he goes in, Stefan shoots at him!" She threw up her hands in exasperation.

  "Have you tried talking to him?" Thatcher seemed distracted by a letter he was writing.

  "Not me! What would I say? He needs to talk to a man, someone he can confide in."

  "Well, I doubt that would be me." He continued writing. "I sent her away."

  "He's so miserable. This behavior is so unlike him. Someone has to speak to him." She looked so worried Thatcher finally put down the quill.

  "I'll see what I can do." He folded the large parchment, dripped the molten red wax onto the translucent paper, pressed his signet ring into it, and sealed the letter.

  * * * *

  Rolf stood outside the door of Stefan's office and heard the breaking of glass.

  The chief's going to owe me for doing this.

  He'd arm-twisted Rolf into talking to Stefan. Why Damon thought Stefan would listen to him, Rolf didn't understand. He didn't have the first idea of what to say. After taking a deep breath and bracing himself, he opened the door and peeked in.

  Stefan sat behind his desk. Unshaven, hair unkempt, with dark circles under his eyes, he looked as if he were in one of his disguises. He must have slept in those clothes over the last three days, and an almost empty decanter of what Rolf assumed was some sort of strong drink sat on the desk, along with a half-full glass.

  Stefan's eyes narrowed as he glared at Rolf. "What are you doing here?"

  "Drinking again, Stefan? And you didn't invite me?" Rolf walked over to the desk and sat in one of the chairs.

  "Did I ask you to sit?"

  "No, and that was very impolite of you, by the way." Rolf put his booted feet up on the edge of the desk and leaned back in his chair.

  "Did he send you? Are you Thatcher's dog now?"

  "Not dog, Stefan--wolf," Rolf said. "Aye, I drew the short straw. I'm here to talk some sense into you, but seeing the state you're in, I can see I'd probably be wasting my breath." Rolf made no move to leave.

  "Well, what's keeping you? You know your way out." Stefan pointed his wand over Rolf's shoulder.

  Rolf didn't move, just continued to stare at him.

  Picking up his glass, Stefan took a gulp of the whiskey, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

  "By the One God, Stefan, you lo
ok worse than I ever did when I was drinking. You've got it bad, old man." Rolf shook his head.

  "I don't know what you're talking about, now get out." Stefan's voice was low and threatening.

  "Trying to drink her away? It won't work. If your feelings for Sarah are as deep as I think they are, no amount of drink will erase her from your heart."

  "You! What do you know about love?"

  "Well, in my younger days I knew enough." Rolf scratched behind his ear as he smiled. "At least I can recognize the feeling and put a name to it." He folded his arms and raised his eyebrow.

  Stefan sat back. "I've never thought of you as a lover, Rolf."

  "Let's just say, Luci brought out the animal in me, and leave it at that." Rolf's use of humor took Stefan by surprise and his mouth gave a slight jerk.

  Rolf stood, but instead of leaving, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black box. He held it out and opened it. Inside, a very delicate gold ring with a beautiful diamond nestled on black velvet.

  "I made up my mind. I'm giving this to Luci on Holy Day and ask her to marry me. I don't have two silvers to rub together and I spent everything I could beg and borrow on this ring. It's nowhere near as fine as she deserves. The One God knows, I have nothing to offer her, but, if she'll have me, I'll be the luckiest man on this or any other world."

  "I'm not interested in your affairs, Rolf." Stefan waved the box away.

  "No, I didn't think you were. But I'm supposed to say something to you, so here goes..." Rolf took a deep breath and gathered his thoughts. "Face it, we don't deserve the women who love us, Stefan, and if we're lucky, they'll never realize it. If I were you, I'd sober up and buy the most expensive ring all the money I'd been saving for the last twenty years of my lonely, miserable life can get me. Then I'd find Sarah, get down on my unworthy knees, and beg her to marry me." After he finished, he waited to be hit with a blast from Stefan's wand.

  Stefan didn't raise his wand. Instead, he reached down, opened a drawer, and pulled out a second glass. He poured a shot into it and pushed it toward Rolf.

  "You would, would you? If you were me?" Stefan took a swallow of the bitter stuff.

  "It's what I'm doing. I love Lucinda, but I knew it from the moment I saw her. That was my advantage. You've had all this time with Sarah and you can't even admit you love her, can you?" Stefan didn't look up. "What are you afraid of, Stefan? She might say no? Or maybe you're afraid she might say aye, and then you'd have to let someone in?"

  "There is more to it than that. You know my fears, the vision I had." Stefan took another gulp.

  Rolf picked up his glass and tossed it down. It was not the best he'd had, but then it wasn't as bad as the stuff he had used to forget his lot, those many years ago. "Where did you buy this swill?" Rolf looked at the bottle.

  Stefan shrugged. "Chester. It was the best I could find there. I don't really need the best do I, to get drunk?" He tossed back the last of his glass and then poured another round.

  "No, I suppose not." Rolf leaned back. "Look, even if it was the Sorcerer and not just some dream, he's merely toying with you, Stefan." Rolf tried again to dismiss his worries.

  "Do you really think I would risk her and our--" Stefan cut his words off as he slammed his fist onto the desk. The glass bounced, spilling some of the dark liquid.

  They both sat there looking at each other, unspoken dreams of a family passing between them.

  Rolf broke the silence. "That might never happen. You can't live your life by what might be. There isn't a man, woman or child who doesn't know our fight against the dark ways could fail at any time. You, as well as I, know we could die on any given assignment. Should all our lives come to a halt? Are you willing to destroy any chance for a life on something that might or might not happen? And suppose you do give her up, will she be in any less danger? Or would you love her any less? Do you really believe you can live without her?" He leaned forward, the intensity of his words echoed on his face.

  "Would you give Luci up, to protect her?" Stefan threw the dare back to him.

  Rolf hesitated. "Luci, that beautiful creature, has chosen me, even knowing of my curse. If I died one day after I married Luci, I'd be content just to have known her love for that day. I don't intend to waste the rest of my life being without her." His voice was quiet as he spoke, leaning forward, the glass between his hands. "For the last fifteen years, my life has been hell."

  He ran his hand over his face in a vicious swipe, his shoulders hunched. "What friends and family I had left when I was bitten. For three years, I lived like an animal in the woods wearing rotting clothing, eating what I could find or kill, less than a man. When I stumbled out of these woods and walked up to Avalon Castle determined to turn myself in and be killed, Damon Thatcher saw my worth as an officer and gave me a chance at a new life."

  His jaw clenched. "Now I have another chance. Luci sees my worth as a man. Me! I'm no fool, Stefan. I took the chance that was offered me before and I'm taking this one." Rolf's boots hit the floor as he shot to his feet and leaned across the desk, his face wrought with anger.

  "And now, I have to deal with you! You self-centered, insecure, dense fool! Every month I have to look in your cold eyes, allow you take me down to that room, and lock me inside like an animal. You've seen my body, the scars. They're only on the outside. Do you know my shame as I stand naked in front of you, a monster?" Rolf fought hard to control his rage.

  "Hell's demons!" He raked both hands through his hair and pulled at it. "You can't even see when you have it good! You have everything! You have the rank, Stefan. You will be Thatcher's replacement and lead the patrol! You're the one he calls son." He took a breath and blew it out. "I'm so tired of watching you sulk around this place, lovesick over Sarah, yet afraid to tell her your true feelings! Everyone knows it. Even the addlers talk about it! The only one you're hiding it from is Sarah. She deserves better than this treatment.

  "Damn you, Bane! I don't know why I care." Turning his back on Stefan, Rolf scrubbed his hands over his face and lowered his voice to a whisper. "I don't know about you, but I'm going to grab whatever small chance for happiness I can before my time runs out."

  He walked to the door and turned back to look at Stefan one last time. "If you walk away from Sarah, then you're nothing but a coward."

  It was the worse insult he could hurl, and if Stefan wanted to duel over it, so be it. Rolf no longer cared.

  Stefan slumped into his chair and put his head in his hands, unwilling or unable to refute the insult.

  "If you decide to abandon this insane course you're on and come to your senses, she's in Avea at Luci's rooms." With those words, Rolf left the room and slammed the door behind him.

  Chapter 22

  Sarah stood outside the small chapel down the street from their rooms. She had always found comfort sitting in a sanctuary, head bent, hands clasped together.

  Even when she had been off-world and the chapels weren't quite the same, she drew strength from her time communing with the One God. She never felt He'd left her, even when she was a child and the pain of her mark still kept her awake at night. She might have lost her place in this world, her mother, and her trust in men, but she never lost her faith.

  Now, as she opened the door and let herself inside, she understood her faith was being tested again. She passed the candles, rows of tall white tapers burning with the hopes and prayers of so many, she paused, dropped a silver into the box, picked up a candle, waved her hand to light it, and then seated it in an empty holder, as her mother had taught her when she was a child.

  Sarah took a seat and searched for her faith. She had done everything she could to live a life of honor, a life to be proud of. All the people she had wanted to please and make proud were gone or disappointed in her.

  Her mother, left behind to face the wrath of her father, was dead these last fifteen years. The memory of her face and her soft voice was all Sarah had left to hold onto.

  Emily Tallow had ta
ken her in when Sarah had needed a new family. Her kindness, warmth, and bravery had saved a frightened little girl. Her recent death was a fresh, painful memory.

  Damon Thatcher had trusted and believed in her when no one else would. If she could forget the disappointment in his eyes when she stood before him in disgrace, not once, but twice, maybe she could sleep.

  Sarah renewed her prayers, refusing to let her mind turn to Stefan, but it was no use. He was everything. She loved him no matter how much he'd hurt her. She couldn't understand it.

  I should hate him. Revile his name. Banish his face from my mind.

  She heard a noise beside her as the bench creaked. She opened her eyes and saw the old priest's familiar jovial face. He sat with his head bowed and rested his clasped hands on his round belly.

  "Good evening, Holy One," Sarah said.

  He lifted his head and smiled at her. "It's been a long time, Sarah, since I've seen you. Luci told me you're stationed at Avalon now. It's a good patrol, I understand."

  "Yes, it is. The best." She worried at her bottom lip.

  "And now, you're back."

  "Aye. For a short time."

  "Will the time fit the need?"

  "I hope so."

  He sat back and raised his eyes to the stone altar in front of them. Large crossed wands, in wood, hung above it, like a giant X signifying His way. It was no coincidence that His symbol, the crossed wands, was the patrols' symbols. They were His army, sworn to keep the faithful safe and to fight against those who would try to destroy the right and light of their world.

  "Sarah, I know you. You don't warm my bench idly. I first felt your strength when you wandered into my little chapel and took a seat all those months ago."

  She sighed.

  "Is the position more or less than you thought?"

  "It is everything I'd hoped for." Sarah smiled.

  "Well, then, if that's going well, could it be a man that troubles you?"

  Sarah nodded, sadness etched on her face.

  "You must love him very much." The words were a whisper.

  "I do. And I don't understand why."

  "We aren't meant to understand why we love someone. We just do."

 

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