Devoured Innocence

by Michelle Marquis

  Nathan bowed his head in respect then rode off down the road. Before she realized what was happening, Kharon pulled her into a big, warm hug. Harlan returned it.

  He released her and said, “Thank you for talking Gavin out of coming. I think this is a little too delicate for him and the root of Gypsy’s guilt is more with you than him.”

  Harlan nodded, hoping she didn’t look as heartbroken as she felt. “Gavin understood. He’ll talk to her again before her match with Lieutenant Falken.”

  Kharon handed her mount’s reins off to a stable boy with instructions to cool down Harlan’s beast and give him a good brushing before stabling him with a feed bag of grain. He then took Harlan’s small, slender hand in his large one and led her down the brick path that circled around to the back of the villa. Harlan never denied her initial misgivings about Kharon. The powerful influence of the Primal Fever frightened her. But now she had no doubt he truly loved Gypsy and could keep her safer than anyone else.

  “I’m worried about this match with Falken. I’ve seen him fight and I know him. He did a stint in the hospital for a few months because he wanted the medical knowledge to tend to battle wounds in the field. He swore me to secrecy and worked the night shift to remain inconspicuous. Falken is very smart, skilled, and ambitious. I’ve also come to understand he and Gypsy are a little more than friends.”

  Kharon sighed and gave her a short nod. “You are correct about everything, though I didn’t know about his late night volunteer hours at the hospital. It would have never occurred to me to seek out that kind of training.”

  “May I be blunt?”

  Kharon grinned. “Please do.”

  “How do you feel about them fucking?” There was a time Harlan would’ve never said such a thing, but having been with Gavin for so long left an influence.

  “I won’t lie to you. Jealousy was my first reaction, though I kept it hidden. But after our separation, the power of our connection grew stronger. Gypsy is also smart, skilled and ambitious. But in my heart I believe that no matter where she roams, she will always return to me. I can’t ignore the difference in our age. Sex is sex. But I know no one can match what we have. As Dr. Krull explained to me, the Primal Fever is for life whether you like it or not. I’ve had to accept her relationship with Falken because I doubt he will be the only one. She’s young, there will be others. Unfortunately, it will be the others bearing the emotional wounds from trysts with my wife, not me.”

  “Aren’t you the one who sets up the matches?”

  Kharon stopped by the side door and turned around. “Yes.”

  “Then why would you match them?” she asked out of curiosity.

  “Their affair happened after I posted the matches. Besides, it has to be him, Harlan. He is her equal in both mind and fighting skill. The other eligible junior officers don’t come close to their abilities. I can’t look like I’m favoring her.”

  Harlan let the subject fade. This was not going to turn out well. As with most military decisions they were out of her purview so she kept it to herself. When they stepped inside the rear doorway she could feel every organ in her torso tremble. I need to convince my poor child that Missy’s abduction was not her fault.

  The smell of cooking meat floated out from the kitchen. “I guess she knows I’m coming to dinner.”

  “It was supposed to be a surprise. But I suspect cooking meat for you was a bit revealing.”

  “I’d think it would be a dead giveaway," Harlan said with a brief smile.

  Inside the kitchen, Gypsy stood at the gray stone counter. She had removed the meat from the grill and was poking at it with a fork. Her pretty face was pale, with gray crescents discoloring the skin beneath her eyes. Her mouth was taut and seemed frozen in a permanent frown. Harlan had never seen her daughter so stricken with grief.

  Gypsy glanced up, then abruptly looked down again with her gaze riveted on the meat. “I think it’s overcooked.” Then in a fractured voice, very small and quiet, she said, “I’m so sorry, mom. How can you ever forgive me?”

  The feeble hold Harlan had on her emotions loosed immediately. In the midst of her own sobs and tears she went to Gypsy and pulled her into her arms. They held each other for a long time, both crying and shaking in their shared agony. Harlan pulled back and with both hands, gently gripped Gypsy’s face, forcing her to look her in the eye.

  Wiping her daughter’s tears away with her thumbs, she said, “Listen to me. I don’t blame you for what’s happened. Over the years I’ve learned it’s impossible to guard against all peril. Had I not been willing to accept that truth about AEssyria, I’d have returned to Earth a long time ago. Even your father, as ferocious and feared as he is, hasn’t always been able to protect me. Our lives are dangerous and unpredictable. I’ve certainly had my share of abductions. Gavin and Trajan say that this man, Makara is not an evil man. If we can lure him here with a big enough bounty, we will get her back. Augustus needs your father and has collected a fortune from the nobles to pay the hunter. Please Gypsy, please stop blaming yourself. You kept her safe for as long as you were able. If Megolyth had gotten her, I have no doubt she’d already be dead or worse. You have to believe we will get Missy back.”

  Tears continued to stream down Gypsy’s face. “You can’t know that! Gavin already told me about Makara. It doesn’t make me feel any better. What if Caraculla gets her first?”

  Despite her attempt to struggle free, Harlan held tight and kissed Gypsy’s cheek. “Caraculla won’t hurt her either, and deep down, you know as much. Word about the bounty is spreading all over the empire and beyond. It will reach the hunter.”

  Gypsy nodded but still wouldn’t look Harlan in the eye.

  “Come,” Kharon said pulling out a chair for Harlan. “Let’s eat.”

  Harlan sat down and Kharon put a plate down in front of her. The meat smelled fresh and spicy. Next to it was some of her favorite gamba fruit neatly cut into wedges. He had gone to a lot of trouble to make this for her. Harlan didn’t have the heart to tell him she wasn’t hungry so she would eat it regardless.

  Gypsy looked down and sighed at Harlan’s plate. “That meat is way overcooked. I’ll cook another slice of meat for you.”

  Harlan was already shaking her head when Kharon said, “Nonsense.”

  Then Kharon put his hand on Gypsy’s shoulder and pushed her down into a dining room chair. Placing two more plates, piled with raw meat, on the table, Kharon sat down. When Gypsy made no move to eat, he pointed to her plate with his fork. “Eat. Augustus wants the empire to return to normal. The junior officer’s match schedule remains unchanged. You have some additional training sessions tomorrow and you’ll need all of your strength against your new sparring partner.”

  “My new sparring partner? What happened to Desmond?”

  “Don’t concern yourself with it tonight,” he said dismissively. Harlan couldn’t help but grin because she already knew who it was.

  “Who’s my new partner?” Gypsy pressed. “It’s not you, is it? I put up with enough of your crap at home. I don’t need it in the arena too.”

  Kharon was enjoying this, Harlan could tell. She knew he’d never give it up.

  He picked up a three-pronged fork and dug into his meal. “Forget it. You don’t need to worry about any of that. And just for the record, it’s not me. Your father thinks I’m too easy on you.”

  “Easy on me?” Gypsy scoffed. “Are you kidding? You’re only slightly less of a prick than Rakon is. Is it Rakon?”

  Kharon reached over and grabbed her fork. He speared a piece of meat and held it out to her. “Stop obsessing about it. You’ll meet your new partner in the morning. In the meantime, enjoy your meal and your mother’s company.”

  Chapter 25

  The fast, heavy blows rained down one after another. Coming in a relentless barrage of unparalleled violence, they threatened to break Gypsy’s sword and spine in two. When they did stop, which was rare, the desire to lie down and rest or drink her can
teen dry almost drove her to quit so she could do both. Regardless of her desires, there was no way she would dare call uncle. For if she did, if she softened and let her guard down for one moment, she would be severely injured and mercilessly berated.

  For the first time since picking up a sword, her sparring partner was her father, Gavin. No mercy would be given and no weakness would be tolerated. Death or maiming would be preferable to disappointing him. The incredible skill with which her father wielded a blade inspired a deep admiration that cut through all of her misery and exhaustion. It was one thing to watch Gavin fight, it was quite another to be his opponent, and she wasn’t much of one by comparison.

  Earlier in her life, she had often felt slighted because he had directed her practice but never participated, even after his back was healed. Today she understood his reasons. Unlike Desmond, who easily matched and maybe even surpassed Gavin’s skill, their father was far too aggressive and competitive to hold back. He fought to win and may have accidentally killed Gypsy had she not been ready to take him on. It breathed some desperately needed pride into her injured soul.

  I can’t believe how happy I am getting the crap kicked out of me.

  Desmond was sitting in the bleachers. Gypsy knew Gavin had asked him here in case she wasn’t yet up to Gavin’s speed. But every time she thought he was done with her and going to send in her brother, her father launched another attack. All she could do was defend herself. There was no attacking her father...not yet anyway.

  Someday I’ll be good enough to hand him his ass. You just wait, old man. Gypsy’s throat felt like blisters were erupting in it. All her bones ached to the very marrow. I feel like that fifteen-hundred-year-old priest at the temple with the crooked hunch. The muscles in her neck and chest twitched, searing her senses with exhaustion. Compounding her discomfort was her stomach. She was starving and her belly reminded her constantly as it growled and digested itself. She had no idea how many hours had passed, but the energy from her last meal was gone and her stomach was frantic for more food.

  But through all the physical agony there was a sliver of contentment. Not only because she had a little of her father’s approval, which helped, but because it made her forget about Missy. Gypsy knew her mind would never be calm until her sister was found. But at least her training gave her a brief distraction from the devastating hurt.

  Gavin took a step back, holding up his fist in the universal signal for a break. Walking across the black sandy floor he went over to talk to Kharon. They spoke in hushed tense, tones about her. It’s amazing that two males that were fortunate enough to rise above the shitty life dealt them, can’t agree more than half the time on anything. She was often confounded by the fact they could both be so successful yet so very different.

  When she was younger, Gypsy might have been pissed that they didn’t include her in their conversation. But right now she couldn’t have cared less. In fact, she was thankful for the reprieve.

  All she wanted to do was fall down right there in the middle of the arena floor. But expectations were different now that she was an adult and an officer. If she did that, her father would know how battered she was and exploit her weakness. So, ignoring her base desire to collapse, she walked to the lowest bleacher and sat. She tried to still the tremble in her hands but every muscle screamed in painful exhaustion. She removed the canteen cap and drained a lot of the contents in just a few seconds. Then she forced herself to stop. She’d need more water later.

  Gypsy knew to come to training prepared. No allowances were made to leave the arena for more water or snacks. That was especially true when Gavin was in charge. Gypsy had learned the hard way with Master Sergeant Rakon. During one of her earliest training sessions she had been half dead from dehydration. She’d asked to go get more water but all that raving asshole would say was that next time she needed to plan better. No water for her. In fact, she was pretty sure Rakon lengthened the session to punish her.

  Removing a small leather pouch from her weapons tote, she yanked off the tie and pulled open the top. In it she had some dried meat cubes. Dumping out three cubes into her palm she wolfed them down not bothering to chew. Her stomach settled, grateful for the offering as the cubes began to digest.

  The scraping sound of Gavin sheathing his sword made her incredibly happy. He stalked across the arena floor and sat down right next to her. Resting his forearms on his knees, he rubbed a light sweat from the back of his neck then turned to study her face. Unless he was frothing mad or drunk it was impossible to read his thoughts, so she didn’t even try. Unlike him she was drenched with sweat, her armor catching and rubbing in spots. Gavin remained quiet and Gypsy hoped he stayed that way. Shaking out her last four meat cubes, she popped them into her mouth and chewed.

  Gavin pulled a cigar from his boot, clipped the end and lit the tip. Inwardly she groaned. A cigar was a precursor to lengthy conversation. Rich tobacco smoke perfumed the air inundating her with a million memories of the past. Then the sound of his voice that she’d been dreading. Stealing a look at Kharon, her eyes pleaded for a rescue, but he was too busy talking to Desmond to even notice.

  “Do you remember when you were four and I left on that jungle campaign?”

  “I do. They said you were dead. It was awful. I had never seen mom so sad...until now,” her voice caught on the last word. It took every ounce of restraint she had not to start sobbing. Biting the inside of her cheek, she beat back her sorrow.

  “I never discussed the details of my ordeal with anyone but your mother. Officially, I was held captive and managed to escape. There were a few questions put to me, Caraculla being the most relentless, but I never elaborated.” He took a few puffs and continued. “We were ambushed by a jungle tribe and for reasons that still mystify me, I was the sole survivor. You see, I escaped death by falling into a concealed spike pit. I missed the spikes, but was unable to climb out. By the time they pulled me from that hole, the rest of my men had been slaughtered. Rather than kill me, the savages took me prisoner. They delivered me to their queen, a Diamondback. Do you know what that is?”

  “All I know is that they are giants and very reclusive,’ Gypsy replied, glad she at least knew that much.

  “Depending on your definition of giant, I will tell you this; she was almost eight feet tall and far outmatched me in strength and size. The only reason she allowed me to live was because she wanted an heir, a princess to be exact and I convinced her that I could give her one. My biggest fear was that she would conceive, because she had made it clear she would kill any male offspring. Many months went by. I was raped and beaten by her often. It was only her eventual complacency that enabled me to make my escape. The first attempt cost me my eye.”

  Gavin removed a flask from under his chest plate and took a sip. After a few gulps he passed it to her. "As luck would have it, that great bitch was attracted to me and it took almost no time for her to trust me again after my first escape attempt. Back then I might have seen her carelessness as a failing of her sex, but now I see it as a failing of her intellect. It was only dumb luck that she didn’t end up killing me. What I’m saying is this: our world is a difficult one. Anything can happen at any time. Death comes as a smile with a hidden dagger, a routine arena fight or a love affair gone wrong. No matter your thoughts to the contrary, I believe you did everything in your power to protect Missy. You must forgive yourself and move on. Makara will return her to us when he hears of the bounty.”

  Gypsy felt strange. Rarely did her father share his hidden history with her. “I don’t expect you’ll answer me, but I want to know how you feel about the outcome of Missy’s abduction. Different people keep telling me Makara isn’t perverse and won’t hurt her, yet I can see everyone is as terrified as me. I don’t want to be made to feel better. I want to know the truth of this reality.”

  Nodding, Gavin pulled in a deep breath. “From what I knew of the man, he was decent. I have to hold out hope that he hasn’t changed. That faith in him will have to
suffice for now because it’s all I know. Missy’s abduction has devastated me in ways that I can’t even discuss with your mother. Now that I’m older I realize that I love all of my children, even those that are no longer around. Missy was supposed to be my atonement to you all. The irrefutable evidence that I had changed. For over eight hundred years my reputation had been vile enough that no one dared take anything that was mine. It makes me wonder if the world has changed or if love has made me weaker, like some have said. This incident is as horrific as your mother’s abduction. But I have more hope for your sister’s safe return than I ever had for your mother’s. Retrieving Harlan alive was nothing less than miraculous. During that whole pursuit I was positive we were chasing a corpse. In Missy’s taking I must stay strong for your mother. But your sister’s loss is all the more painful because I raised her from infancy and bothered to get close to her from the start. My grief is almost unbearable. Had I allowed myself to develop as deep a bond with my other children, perhaps I would have reaped more rewards than heartache.”

  Gypsy didn’t want to hurt Gavin more, but there were so many things she wanted to say. “You were close to Northe. He had your love and adoration for a time.”

  “No. Not really. Northe’s story is more legend than truth. Like the sons before him I never had any interest until he could wield a sword and train for battle. Yes. Northe was going to be the heir to my warlord legacy. It was a wonderful thought until he grew up and challenged all that I was. For a long time I blamed Northe for forcing my hand to kill him. Now I understand that it was never Northe’s fault. This failing was mine alone. As he got stronger, better, I convinced myself he would destroy me so I treated him as an enemy. Northe was my second biggest failing as a father, not because I killed him, but because I caused the division between us.”

  “You said second biggest failing. Who was your first?”