“Now I want to begin it again with presence.”
“Don’t make a fool of me, Vachlan,” she begged. “History repeats itself and people don’t change. You know you still have the power to hurt me like no one else on earth ever has, or ever will. I can’t go through this again.
“It was King Kyrosed’s fault… he convinced me that you and he had…”
“No,” she whispered, pushing his hand away from her shoulder. “How could you even believe that? That’s absurd, and you know it’s absurd. If Kyrosed had ever tried to touch me I could have killed him with my eyes closed—with one finger, or even with one toe…”
“I know, Viso, I know… I was just so in love with you, and the jealousy killed me!”
“Like Othello,” Visola said with a sad smile. She reached out and placed her hand on her husband’s stomach. “I’m not some weak, trusting girl that you can wreck just because someone planted an idea in your head. I’m the general of an army, and I’m your equal, your match, your counterpart. I could destroy the world for a price just like you, if I was so inclined. I watched everything you did, and I learned from you. I could hurt you too. You know this, don’t you?”
When he nodded, she continued. “Then please understand if I need a divorce for the sake of my soul. I am a lot like you, but I don’t want to become any more like you. So let me think about this and make my decision.”
“I won’t allow you to even consider that, Visola,” he said, turning to look at her fiercely. He leaned over her, and crushed his lips to hers in a demanding kiss. He allowed the determination in his touch to speak for him for several minutes, as he hungrily kissed her. When he withdrew, he could see that her cheeks were flushed to match her hair and eyebrows. “We are going to be together from now on. Viso. Like we used to be.”
She had returned his kiss, but she toiled not to allow the abundance of happy, tingly feelings which had been generated inside of her to cloud her judgment. “I’ll let you know what I decide,” she told him. Her voice faltered slightly in the giddy, scatterbrained wake of his kiss. “I really think divorce could be a positive thing for both of us.”
He ripped himself away from her angrily, and began to pack up their supplies. “Just kill me if you decide that you don’t want me anymore. What is there left for me in this world if not for you? What is the point anymore? Do you know how much gold, money, and diamonds I have? Do you know how many safety deposit boxes, in how many banks, in how many different countries? How many identities, how many properties, how many passports, how many…”
“Shh,” Visola said, carefully raising herself to a seated position. “Don’t be silly. I would never hurt you.”
“Then, if you decide you want your divorce, just ask your sister or Aazuria to kill me. I am sure they will do it without a second’s hesitation—they will do it before you can even finish nodding to give them permission to do so.”
“You’re still a barrel of piranhas,” she whispered. “You’re the love of my life and the father of my child, but you already gnawed all my flesh off once. I don’t know about you, but I really hate being eaten alive. I prefer to eat than to be eaten—speaking of which, can you hunt some breakfast, V?”
“Mind if we take a break? We’re not being followed,” Vachlan said, panting slightly to catch his breath. He readjusted Visola in his arms.
“No, we can’t stop. Keep moving, and pick up the pace. You’re the one who smashed my knee, so why don’t you reflect on your actions while you carry me.”
“I guess being a wife is like riding a bicycle.”
“Are you implying that I’m nagging? You broke my fucking knee, Vachlan!”
“Sound has been coming out of your mouth for two days and I’m already sick of it. Can you please return to giving me the silent treatment?”
She clamped her lips shut obediently.
“Visola?” he asked, as he continued walking and panting. He looked down at her. “Viso, why aren’t you talking? I was just kidding. Please don’t give me the silent treatment again.”
By the time they had pitched their tent for a second time, they were already familiar enough with each other that they felt like no time had passed since they had last spoken. They really were exactly the same people they had always been.
“Vachlan, tell me something,” Visola said with a smile. “It’s been bugging me for, like, hundreds of years. The night we met—did you really not have sex with me?”
He smiled, and turned to face her. He placed his face very close to hers, allowing the corner of his lips to brush her cheek. “Am I not a gentleman, Visola?” he asked, his breath and voice tickling her ear.
She closed her eyes at the butterfly-like sensation. “That depends. Would a gentleman have broken my kneecap with a pickaxe?”
“I suppose not.”
“Would a gentleman have literally crucified me?”
“Well… I sanitized the nails first.”
“So we did have sex that night?”
“You’ve asked me this about a million times. I’m still insulted that you don’t remember.”
“Are you ever going to tell me?”
“If I told you I would lose my mystery and charisma. You wouldn’t find me so enigmatic.”
“Vachlan… you conquered half of the world. Twice. Once for the Emperor of Bimini, and now for Emperor Zalcan. I think that pretty much gives you infinite enigmatic-points, so don’t worry about that.”
“Yes. But conquering half the world—half of the undersea world—twice, does not equal conquering the whole world,” Vachlan said, with a little bit of disappointment.
“Good Sedna, you don’t really want to do that, do you?” she asked him, hitting him in the arm.
He gave her a small shrug, and rolled away from her onto his back. “What else is there for me to do? I’ve already proved that I can’t be a successful writer.” He stared up at the tent thoughtfully.
“Vachlan,” she asked quietly. “You conquered the Rusalka. You could have come at us from both sides. You have access to huge military resources. You could have conquered Adlivun by now, but you didn’t. Why did you spare us?”
He sighed, reaching down to take her hand. “I sent the Emperor’s forces to go south from Russia and conquer Ker-ys in France. I convinced them that Adlivun would be easy to take, and that we should focus on expanding into the Atlantic. I have the whole European underworld fighting amongst itself right now to take the focus off Adlivun. I don’t even really know why I did that.”
“He’s calling enough troops to defeat fifty thousand warriors,” Visola said. “We can’t even defeat the troops currently stationed in Zimovia, and you want to make it harder for us?”
“Time is precious. I wanted to give us time,” he said. “I told the Prince that you and Aazuria were the main defense of Adlivun; that together, you two were the reason that it had never fallen. I told him that if we removed one of you, that Adlivun would be defenseless, and that I thought you were a bigger asset because you were the general. I think I really just wanted to get you out of Adlivun in case we really did wage war on it and destroy your home.”
Visola listened to him curiously. “You summoned me to protect me?” she asked in confusion. Had he really been on her side all along? She cleared her throat. “But you intended to attack Adlivun all along. Did you… did you make it easier for me to defeat Atargatis? I heard that it was under your authority to throw everything at me at once, but you chose to ‘test the waters.’ Did you do that on purpose to give me a chance?”
He did not respond.
“Vachlan?”
“I guess I did sabotage her, and I did expect her to fail. I did intend for her to fail.” He paused. “Viso, there’s something you need to understand. Even if we defeat the troops in Zimovia, and even if we manage to stand after that… it’s all futile. Emperor Zalcan’s mission isn’t to conquer Adlivun. He’s trying to conquer the world. He’s moving towards having his dominion of the sea recogniz
ed by all the major governments on land. It’s eventually going to happen. He’s going to join the UN, have defense coalitions with the governments…”
Visola frowned. “That’s unheard of. That goes against the sea-dweller tenets.”
“I know, but it’s brilliant. The Emperor wants all of the oceans to be recognized as one country of which he is the leader. He wants Aboriginal rights to all international waters.”
“I see,” Visola said, “because we’re the indigenous population…”
“It will change the economy of the world forever.”
“Why do you say that it ‘will?’ Don’t you think we can stop him? We have you now, and you know exactly what’s happening.”
“I can’t stop him. He’s been planning this for centuries. He has sea-dwellers stationed on land in the parliaments and senates of all major countries. Emperor Zalcan’s got it in the bag.”
“So why on earth would you abandon the winning team to join the underdog so late in the game?”
“Why do you think?” he asked her, reaching out and tucking her hair behind her ear.
She looked at him crossly. “Don’t take me for a fool, Vachlan. I know that you’re not doing this for me. You had a place cemented for yourself in the new world order, and you don’t just give that up for some dumb broad from your past...”
“Hey, watch your language! That’s my wife you’re talking about.”
Visola made a face at him. “Tell me; is this part of the game too? You helping me escape? Is this some strategic move planned by you and your emperor?”
“No. I want you.”
“Don’t exaggerate what I mean to you.”
“I’m not. I’ll prove that eventually,” he insisted. “If you want to know the truth, I do have a plan. I’ve thought about it, and there is a way we could repel the Clan of Zalcan’s forces.”
“Tell me. We’ll discuss it with Aazuria as soon as we can.”
“If she lets me live,” Vachlan said with a smile. “My plan capitalizes on one basic truth: Adlivun is in Alaska.”
“Well, I suppose that if you want to be technical…”
“No, listen to me Visola. Adlivun is in Alaska. We go to Aazuria, and together we go to the American government. We ask them for protection.”
“The American government?” Visola asked, with a chuckle. “You’re out of your mind. Aazuria will never agree to that. What will they want from us in return?”
“Then we go to Russia. Adlivun used to be in Russia until 1867 before they sold it to the Americans. If that doesn’t work, we go to Canada. There is a way, and we will find it.”
“Does Canada even have an army?” Visola asked with a frown.
Vachlan shrugged. “I’m not too sure. I think they should.”
“Begging,” Visola remarked. “So this is what we are reduced to. You want us to beg the land-dwellers for help.”
“It’s not begging, it’s asking a neighbor for protection. They exploited the Aleutian people above the surface, they exploited the Inuit—they should understand why we remained hidden from him for so long. If they want some kind of… I don’t know, official merger, or if they want us to pay for the military support, we’ll negotiate all that.”
“And then our privacy is gone? Then we become national news? A tourist destination? Farewell sovereignty?”
“I don’t know what will happen. It’s just a suggestion of the only thing that I think will work. It’s the only thing that I think will keep us alive, Viso.”
She turned her back on him. Her mind was racing so much that she knew she would be unable to sleep, and her eyes were stretched wide open as though she had been injected with caffeine. It occurred to her that all of Adlivun had been completely innocent to what was happening in the rest of the undersea world, and Vachlan returning home with all of this knowledge was a blessing in disguise.
“What about Namaka?” she asked him.
“You know about her?” he asked in surprise.
“I had a weird dream. I remembered when you took her from her parents in Australia.”
“I just used her to check up on you over the years. You know—if you had ever gotten really sick I would have come and taken care of you, or if you had ever gotten serious about another guy I would have come and slit his throat.”
“So romantic, sweetie, really,” Visola said teasingly. She was glad that her back was turned to him, because she could not resist smiling. When she felt him move closer to her, and cuddle against her back, she stared down at the arm he had wrapped around her stomach. It felt right, but it still felt uncomfortable. She knew she would miss him far too much when his arm was no longer around her. “Tell me one thing.”
“Sure,” he answered, as he nestled his chin against her shoulder.
“Did you love Atargatis?”
He paused in his nestling. “What do you know about her?”
“I only know what she told me herself. I want to hear the rest directly from you.”
“Atargatis was stupid. She was not a warrior, she was a ballerina.”
“If she was so stupid why did you sleep with her?” Visola asked.
“How did you find out about that?”
“She boasted about it to me,” Visola said, grinding her teeth together. “She insinuated that you belonged to her.”
“Oh, dear God! She really said that? What a foolish landlubber. Koraline Kolarevic—that innocent country bumpkin.” Vachlan began to chuckle. Then he began to laugh harder, until his whole torso shook.
“Why are you laughing?” Visola asked, turning toward him incredulously. “Was she lying?”
“No—she and I had a thing. Visola, please tell me you killed the poor girl quickly.”
“The words were barely out of her mouth before her life ended. Vachlan! How can you laugh about this? Do you laugh about the death of all of your women?”
“If she was bragging to you and acting like she and I had anything beyond the occasional tryst, then she deserved what she got. She knew what you meant to me.”
“Fifty years of occasional trysts?” Visola asked angrily.
“Viso…”
She pushed his arm away from her waist and sat up. “I don’t feel like sleeping anymore. Let’s keep moving. I’ll walk.” She unzipped the tent and crawled out of it before shakily raising herself to her feet. She tested bending her knee gently before taking a step. There was pain, but it was manageable.
Vachlan exited the tent, after her. “Don’t be silly, V. You can’t walk on that leg. Come back and rest with me.” He sighed. “You know that if Atargatis had meant anything to me, I would not have sacrificed her life by letting her lead an attack that was doomed from the start. I sent her to Adlivun knowing that you would slaughter her.”
“I know,” she said softly, as she tested her leg, walking in small circles in the snow. “I shouldn’t be upset. I may not have cheated on you when we were together, but obviously you were gone for a really long time and in recent years I stopped caring. I never thought I was going to see you again, so there were other men. There were lots of other men. Lots and lots of other men! So I have no right to be upset.”
“Lots?” he asked, frowning. “Who?”
She smiled sweetly. “You’ll know when they come rubbing it in your face and showing off.”
Vachlan sighed, knowing quite well that no one would be doing such a thing. “Viso, what she and I had together…”
“I don’t want to hear about it,” she said, as she began walking away through the snow.
“We were united by hate!” he called after her.
“That makes sense!” she shouted back. “Hate gets me horny all the time.”
“Listen to me, Visola. Stop walking and listen for a second,” Vachlan said, chasing after her and grabbing her shoulders. “Atargatis hated Kyrosed because he stole her daughter. I hated Kyrosed because I thought he stole you. We spent all our time together fantasizing about killing Kyrosed Vellamo.”
“Yes, there was some of that too.”
“Fifty years,” Visola repeated. It broke her heart to think about it. “You spent more time with Atargatis than you did with me!”
“I didn’t love her.”
“Obviously your ability to hate is stronger than your ability to love,” Visola said bitterly, as she continued limping away.
“I can’t believe you had me carry you for two days when all this time you could walk,” Vachlan said, but he was impressed. He had gone back to pack up their tent and supplies, and he had caught up with Visola rather quickly. The two had been walking together for several hours, although Visola occasionally had to pause to rest. He had alternated between carrying her and letting her try to walk on her own for most of the day.
“You call this walking?” Visola asked with a frown. “I call it hobbling. Shambling, at best.”
“Still… I really was worried that I had crippled you.”
“Ramaris warrior genes,” she said cheerfully. “We heal fast. By the way—that whole ‘you’ll-never-walk-again’ bit? Very terrifying. I took mental notes. I’d give it an eight out of ten.”
“Eight? And you could do better?” he said with a scowl.
“Yes. Nine out of ten would be breaking both legs. Ten out of ten would be not giving the person immediate medical attention, not putting the leg in a brace, and not always remembering to keep it elevated.”
“Are you calling me transparent?” he asked.
“No, dear. You’re completely mystifying.”
They smiled at each other, silently acknowledging that through all of their squabbles they were happy to be together and alone again. Even trudging through the wintry fields of snow and ice felt refreshing. Visola sometimes wondered to herself if they sounded like an ‘old married couple.’ The thought of being anything resembling normal amused her.
“Look at that,” Vachlan said, pointing to the horizon. “It looks like we’re close to a city.”
Fathoms of Forgiveness (Sacred Breath, Book 2) Page 25