She'd try again tonight. Now she had to prepare her two allies, so that when the time came there would be no hesitation -- for hesitation could cost Anala's life. That was something Hope could not bear.
Settling into a relaxed posture, she closed her eyes and prepared to make a dream-self to contact Captain Merry. It was a little-used facet of her dream powers, for it was very difficult to do. Most likely this one would drain her, but it had to be done. She could sleep out the day.
Anala had to be safe, and Lares with her -- for Hope knew that Lares would protect her darling daughter. Hope would die in peace if she knew they'd made it safely to Athering. As safe as one could be in Athering.
And some day...she can come and claim her birthright.
Not now. Not tonight. Not while Maurice still lived. Some day.
Merry
A light breeze blew in across the sea, causing little wavelets and ruffling the sails of Merry's ship. He stood on the stern, arms folded, facing the town on the shore. The lights of Auport flickered in the darkness, sending bits of light dancing over the restless sea.
It was an old merc trick, to face the ship to sea whenever and wherever in harbour, a custom Merry had found no reason to drop. It aided in a speedy getaway.
They might need it on this trip. He'd been waiting for nearly a sevenday now, and still no word from Anala, whether she lived or no. The boys stayed in Tellangia; Merrik had come down once to inform Merry of those orders. They said they would stay until Anala's return to the town.
"And if'n she'd not be ta return?" Merry had asked his former crewman.
Merrik shrugged defiantly. "Then we'd be waiting forever."
That had been that. Merry could not have swayed the boys' loyalty from Anala, nor would he have wanted to. She'd need an honour guard, for she was truly alone here.
She had Mara, if the bellica made it back to the ship, but the girl was no good in a fight. Or hadn't been. After knot lessons, Merry had taught Mara a few basic knife-fighting techniques, and had even given her a dirk for her belt. She'd been a bit frightened of fighting, but Merry had made it as much fun as possible and soon the girl had warmed to it. Good. He was sure Anala would want her sister to know such things. Still, a few moves did not a fighter make. He may have given her no more than the ability to survive a few more minutes than she otherwise would have in a bad situation.
He stole a glance to where Mara kept her vigil, leaning against the railing as she'd done every night since Anala's departure. Some nights, she almost fell asleep on her feet, but she never left until Merry told her to go rest. A quick girl, but loyal to a fault.
He could see how Anala inspired such loyalty, even if the bellica herself couldn't. She had a strange charisma, no doubt inherited from the strange powers that defined her mother and aunt. Those attracted to her usually wanted to obey her every word.
Usually. The charisma had not, apparently, extended to her foster-parents or the Empress and Empreeena -- but why count them?
He was glad Anala's gift for inspiring obedience, which she'd had since she'd been a babe in swaddling clothes, had held true for her foster-sister. He did not relish the idea of having to watch the child all hours of the day.
Mara had grown a great deal since she'd been discovered on board. Merry had barely known of her save for hearsay and he could see the changes already. It was if that small internal thing that made one a child had snapped in her, letting adulthood flood in and take hold.
Oh, she was still quick to smile and laugh, and had that joyful spontaneity that Morgan also had, but Merry sensed a newfound seriousness and resilience in the girl.
He was glad for it. Things could get rough in the near future, and Mara would need to be as strong as the one she so idolised.
He stole another glance at her and saw her head was nodding, her chin drooping to her chest, eyes half-closed. He gave a sharp, short whistle, and her head snapped up and she looked at him sheepishly, knowing what he was going to say. "Get ta bed, child. I'll not have ye fall overboard, ye ken? Anala'd have me head," he would add if she looked rebellious.
She sighed and headed towards the hatch. "Yes, Uncle Merry," she said, flashing him a quick smile to show there were no hard feelings.
"G'night, child," he said, smiling at the honorific she'd used.
He was her uncle, truly -- or would have been, had Tenea not refused his proposal all those years ago. He sighed. Someday their respective careers wouldn't interfere with their love. They'd never stopped caring for each other. Her letters to him confirmed as much. They had their duties -- she in Atherton, so she could watch over Anala, and he in Harbourtown, so he could keep an eye on the Tanners. Someday the girls would be his nieces in truth.
A flicker on the ocean, between ship and town, caught his eye. A strange sight. A mist, illuminated from within, floated in off the sea to hover above the deck.
He frowned, his hand at his cutlass automatically, and he tensed, ready to shout the alarm if need be. The mist landed on the deck and coalesced into a humanoid and familiar shape.
Merry relaxed a bit at seeing Anala's aunt -- her real aunt. "Charity? I thought ye'd gone ta Mudflat."
The figure shook her head, and Merry realised this must be Hope, Anala's mother. A'course. Charity's hair'd been much lighter. Aside from that small difference, the two women could have passed as each other; so he forgave himself his mistake. At least he had not been totally shocked at the mist: from what Charity had told him twenty-seven years ago, he should expect this sort of thing from her sister. He was glad he'd remembered what she'd told him.
He bowed, deep and respectful. "Lady Exsil Vis. What can I do for ye?"
The figure spoke in a thin, wavery voice, and Merry guessed it took some strength for Hope to maintain it, for he could not imagine Anala's mother as having a weak voice or spirit. "Anala will be coming shortly, but she will be in need of help, and a speedy retreat. You did me a favour once before, Captain -- I ask you to save my daughter one last time. I promise you whatsoever you wish in return." The figure flickered, once, twice. She was losing power.
Merry shook his head. What he wanted she couldn't give. "I'd need no recompense, Lady. When'd Anala be coming, then?"
Her features were blurring into one another as she struggled to remain present enough to reply. "A day...mayhap more. She'll have...man with her. Stout-Heart," she gasped out and then the apparition disappeared, the mist dissipating into the chill evening air.
Merry sighed. He had a ship to get ready.
He turned to raise the silent alarm among his crew and caught sight of a figure retreating below decks.
Mara? What was she still doing up here? No, it couldn't have been Mara -- the figure was shorter. It was Ros, he realised. Why would Ros be up here when he was not even on duty....
His musings trailed off as the realisation hit him like a slap of cold water on a hot day. Merry set his mouth in a tight line as he headed below decks. Looked like he had more than Anala's imminent escape to warn the crew about.
At least now Mara would have a chance to test out those knots she'd learned. He'd be damned if he let a spy of the Empress escape the justice of his crew.
Yarrow
The last day of winter dawned gloomy and cold. The snow of last night lay in small white patches on the untrodden ground, which was better than the black slush it had turned into on the city streets.
She'd not been kidding when she'd said tardiness would not be tolerated, and had been glad to see that the others had taken it to heart. She didn't include Caelum in the term "others." Why couldn't he have been late -- as usual?
No, he'd been there even before she, determined not to be left behind. Damn him. She'd agreed to let him come only because she hadn't wanted to hurt him. I should've, really. Anything to keep him away from me.
She could still hurt him in Mudflat, she supposed. After Ghia, Jules, and Aro leave for Harbourtown, though. Wouldn't want him under care of the first regiment's CMO and Head
Healer for the nation.
In truth, she couldn't really do anything like that to him, and deep down she knew it. She just didn't want to admit it to anyone.
Shaking her head to clear the cobwebs of her thoughts, she glanced behind her to see Caelum engaged in conversation with Jules and Ghia -- apparently friendly enough. Goddess knew Caelum could use a friend right now.
Jules glanced her way and the look that then passed his face was almost guilty. As if he knows and doesn't want to upset me.
The whole castle likely knew she and Caelum had fought. She held no illusions about that. Did Jules know the nature of her fight with Caelum? How could he? That was between her, Caelum, and...the spy.
Feck. Looked like a misstep in judgment there! Trusting your CMO? Were you crazy?
I thought I was. Mayhap I wasn't far off the mark.
Nothing to be done about it now, except to curse her stupidity in bringing a possible spy along on this trip.
Two possible spies, she amended, seeing Jules and Ghia ride together. They were close -- if one was a spy it was likely the other was, too.
It was her own fault that Ghia had no horse on this trip, and had to share. She'd forgotten that not everyone was so lucky as Jules and had not requested the use of a castle horse for the healer. Instead of wasting more time in the finding of a mount, Ghia had elected to ride with Jules.
She could have shared with someone else and she chose Jules instead. Why?
Maybe they're just friends, Yarrow. They work in the same field, after all, said a sensible voice in her head.
She dismissed it. She worked in the same field as Anita and they weren't necessarily friends.
She realised she was still staring at the three behind her and Jules still had that guilty look on his face. She kept her face carefully neutral and shrugged her shoulders slightly before turning away.
What was that guilty, hangdog look? As if he feared her anger for speaking to Caelum...which indicated he was still loyal to her, obviously. That could just be an act. No, no -- I've known Jules for a long time and he's not that good a liar.
She'd just have to order him to remain in Mudflat with her and Caelum. And Lt. James, when they found him. Then Yarrow could discover...whatever I can discover. She'd at least be separating the two possible spies in the group -- always a good thing.
She glanced to her left and noted Aro looked a lot better than he had last night, though he must have a terrible hangover. Good thing it wasn't bright today. Strange thing, that. Aro had a reputation, albeit now ruined, of being extremely levelheaded and sober. In fact, thinking back on it, had Yarrow ever seen him drink in public? How could he allow himself to get like that? Was it just that he missed Anala so much?
Considering that, she shook her head. No, that didn't seem very Aro-like. But after he'd had that drink with her, he'd disappeared into his room. It wasn't until Ghia had roused him that the truth had come out and spread like wildfire throughout the castle -- that he'd disappeared into a drunken stupor.
It was quite mysterious. Sober Aro, drunk for over a sevenday. Yarrow wanted to ask, but she didn't have the courage to be quite that rude. She just hoped she hadn't been an enabler to a dangerous addiction for him.
The sun broke through the clouds then, and Yarrow was able to note its position in the sky. Not bad. They were making good time, for the castle was a small dot on the horizon already and they still had plenty of daylight left. In an hour, she'd call a break.
~
The break came in a little less than an hour, because on seeing the small brook, she decided it would be a good chance to water the horses.
They dismounted and let their horses drink while they walked out the bunched muscles in their own legs. Ghia was having difficulty dismounting and walking, and Yarrow guessed the girl wasn't used to long rides. She doesn't even have a mount -- of course she's not used to this.
What had possessed her to take along a non-military girl as escort? Ghia was soft; she could only slow them down.
Not as if I had much choice. Going to Harbourtown was, after all, Ghia's crazy idea. Yarrow had just offered them the chance to do it without certain court martial for Aro and Jules, while solving her own escort problem. She couldn't tell Ghia to stay behind, for it was obvious the girl would go anyway, and that could have proved extremely dangerous for the healer. Yarrow and the boys were as much an escort for Ghia as she was for them.
Who knew? They might need her skills as Head Healer, which were undoubtedly greater than Jules' CMO skills. There was a reason Ghia stood to inherit that post and he didn't. Yarrow just hoped the girl wouldn't cripple them.
Her solitude by the brook was then interrupted by none other than the very one she was trying to avoid. Intent on talking again, it seemed.
"Will nothing make you feck off, Caelum?" she asked tiredly.
He shrugged and settled down beside her. "No," he said simply. "I'm very persistent."
She rolled her eyes. "Yeah. I know."
They sat in an almost comfortable silence, though it wasn't quite there yet. It wasn't angry or insurmountably awkward, however. It would be a while before their silences were comfortable as they had once been. Or comforting.
At length he spoke, and she suppressed a sigh. He wanted to talk and she probably couldn't stop him. Why fight the inevitable? I don't have to really care or even forgive him. I'll just listen.
"I spent some time at my family's farm during leave. What was left of it. Paid my respects to mother, father, and Stella. Spent time with Uncle Pieter, whom, I'd like to think I learned a lot from."
Ok, so I was right -- but where are you going with this? He sighed and stopped speaking, but Yarrow doubted he was done. She waited.
"One very important thing he taught me, which I'd never really grasped until I heard him say it, is that the ends don't justify the means. They never have and never will, no matter what certain tacticians and historians have said."
Yarrow nodded. He was referring to Bellica Minerva of the First Age and her many books on military strategy and tactics. The books were considered essential to a military education, and required reading for all bellicas, majors, and majoras to be. They'd studied them together. There was no doubt in Yarrow's mind that Minerva had been a brilliant bellica in her time, but Yarrow had never agreed with the woman's insistence that the ends would always justify the means.
Sometimes there was no choice, however.
Caelum had finally grasped that. Good. It didn't change what he'd done, but it gave hope for him to change. Hope for the future.
He sighed again. "I suppose I could tell you the reason I did what I did, but in the end -- it was wrong, no matter how well-intentioned I was. The Road to Tyvian...." He trailed off. "I'm sorry, Yarrow. I did something stupid -- well, I've done a lot of that. But this was perhaps the most monumentally stupid thing I've ever done in my long history of doing stupid things. I hope someday you can forgive me. I know that's too much to ask, so I only hope that you hear me out, and maybe not hate me."
A silence followed his speech, and then he got up to leave her alone with her thoughts. Again.
Except now they were all a jumbled mess. Dammit! She'd gotten clarity and now he'd fecked things up again.
But he's trying. Isn't that what matters?
No. Trying and failing means nothing -- only accomplishment is important.
Her two sides battled it out for a while until she told them to SHUT UP because she couldn't think with their bickering going on.
She was out of time to think. Break was over.
She got up and shouted for her party to get their butts in gear, because they were leaving now.
She went and checked her saddle and stroked Pyrrhus while the others scrambled, Ghia lifted up by Jules because she was obviously too stiff to move. Yarrow stopped herself from making a pitying noise--what a tomboy!
She glanced to her side and saw Caelum getting ready to mount Gloaming. She hesitated for all of five seconds
, then faced him and said very softly: "I don't hate you." Then she mounted and headed back to the trail, giving him no time to respond.
Still, she didn't forgive him.
Well. Maybe.
Ghia
This wasn't so bad, she supposed. I mean, once you get past the hardness of the saddle...and all the bumps on the road...and the constant jostling that make my tits feel as if they're about to fall off....
Scratch that. Horseback riding was terrible. Her continued cramping made it worse. She'd thought that pain was part of the drug's effects on her. But didn't the drug get cleared from me? Maybe it was having lingering side effects on her system. Terribly vexing, to have abdomen cramps while on a steady trot along a hard road.
At least she had Jules to sit in front of -- he made a comfy cushion -- for all that he'd been acting incredibly standoffish all day. She could've found out why quite easily, but honestly, she respected him too much to want to pry into his thoughts. Weren't they friends? Friends don't read each others' minds without permission. Maybe he's just in one of his moods.
But he'd been friendly enough with Caelum through their conversation, and with his bellica and Aro earlier in the day. It was only with her, Ghia, that he'd been...awkward. Almost cold.
Maybe it was she. What had she done? Nothing, to be sure. Mayhap he's mad I took over his bed last night. He should have said something, instead of keeping things bottled up.
Ugh. She didn't want to spend this trip wondering about what she may have or may not have done. Jules would get over it eventually, and they could talk about it, and she could call him an idiot for not sharing it earlier. Things would get back to normal.
Aside from a prolonged trot on a horse who definitely did not like her, Jules' moodiness, and the constant cramps, she was excited about this trip. She could be riding into danger but she couldn't curb her happy anticipation. for, as of midnight that night, Ghia would be twenty years of age.
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