Vincent watched row after row pass, and all the while the deep drumming continued, dun dun d-dun dun, dun dun d-dun dun. The drummers appeared intermittently at their sides. Soon after came men sporting long vicious-looking halberds with steel bands running up the length of the haft. Tall though the weapons were, the flag still waved much higher from its place further down the road leading to the city. Next came men with similar shields as the swordsmen, who wore iron helms instead of just coifs, and walked resting the upper hafts of heavy bearded axes atop their shoulders. Lastly, men marched carrying shields and spears, wearing leather and short-swords at their sides.
A couple steps behind the men in the rear, walked a loose collection of wizards wearing mostly blue and red robes who kept to no organized formation. A few men and women wearing the white robes of healers were among them. He saw the two women who had healed him, walking and talking within the group yet appearing in not nearly as high of spirits as before.
It had taken a good while for the procession to pass, allowing Vincent ample time to approach the gate and stand idly as they marched by. He guessed that no less than five-hundred men were in that detachment; it looked a full battalion. The keep was not rendered defenseless though, far from it. Because of its large size, this was only a small fraction of the garrison.
He found it strange, thinking that perhaps a war had even started, but paid it no mind as he walked in through the outer gate, carrying the bucket, washboard, and soap. He reminded himself bitterly that it was none of his business unless the masters told him it was. He had no enthusiasm to find out what was taking place. Right now his business was to report in to Master Clemens and resume doing his job of standing guard over the vault. Behind him, the clanking, rustling, and the drums continued to sound.
People thought it odd that he was carrying the clothes-washing implements that he did, and a burly Dwarf reading a book looked on curiously before shaking his head in disapproval and delving back into the pages. A groundskeeper trimming the lawn with a horizontal-bladed scythe held low asked him what he was doing with those. When he answered that he was only borrowing them, he got a scolding about how he was not to take such things off the property. Vincent said once that he was sorry, and ignored the rest of what he said while he continued walking. Partway down the paved road leading to the keep, he immediately caught sight of Rick and Karl running frantically toward him, and stopped with a frown.
“Vincent!” They each called out from afar, trying to get his attention. They had it.
When they finally arrived, out of breath, Karl leaned down and supported himself with his hands on his knees. Rick remained standing and spoke first. “Vincent, where have you been! We’ve been looking all over for you!”
“Well,…you found me,” he replied. “What’s going on?”
Karl burst out, “Grandmaster Treyfon is dead!”
“Flares have been sighted from Ogden to Hathorn!” Rick added.
“What!” Vincent exclaimed, dropping the bucket.
Karl stood up straight. “Clyde poisoned him,” he said between breaths, “he’s not dead, but very close.”
“He might as well be!” Rick burst out, turning his way. “They said they could cure him if they knew what was in the poison, but they don’t! And there’s no way to find out! He’s finished!” He looked back toward Vincent. “Damn near killing a score of healers just to keep him alive on a false hope!”
Vincent was still in shock and kept silent. Karl bent down again and supported himself on his knees, taking ragged breaths. “What’s the bucket for?” He asked. Rick also looked on as though mentally asking the same question.
“Oh these?” Vincent responded, looking down at the bucket and washboard, having almost forgotten they were there. “I was just getting cleaned up.”
“Well just leave them!” Rick suggested hastily. “We have to go right away!”
“What are you talking about?” Vincent asked in confusion.
Karl quickly stood up straight again, his fatigue forgotten. “The cult has been found again! Master Anthony is gathering an army to attack them! He’s taking any wizard that volunteers!”
“We have to go with them!” Rick added. “That’s why we’ve been looking for you! So you could join!”
Vincent didn’t see why he should have been punished for going after them the first time. Fighting them was fighting them. The severe bitterness that had accrued within him surfaced once again, and he felt a scowl form on his face. “Forget it.” The other two stared back in wide-eyed disbelief as he picked up the bucket and was about to start walking past.
Karl put up his hands as though to stop him. “Didn’t you hear us! We’re going on a mission to destroy the cult!”
“I already tried to do that before,” Vincent responded with venom, “and they threw me in the dungeon for it!”
“This time we have the official blessing!”
“If it’s so damn important that the masters sanction everything, then they can take care of it themselves. To hell with it. I’m just a guard. I haven’t been ordered to do this, and I’m not doing them any favors.”
“What about Stacy!” Karl exclaimed. “She’s already with them! We’re her friends! We should be there to help her out!”
“If she’s with that army, she should be fine.”
Karl and Rick shared a quick look. “She’s not with the army,” Karl said slowly.
“She’s with the scouts,” Rick clarified.
This surprised Vincent but didn’t change his mind. “Then Stacy won’t be alone, and she knows how to handle herself.”
He tried to walk past, but Karl moved to stand in his way, still holding his hands up to halt him. His voice took on an aggravated tone. “Vincent, you aren’t the only one who was punished. I know it all seems unfair, but you can’t just walk away. What about all the victims you tried to seek justice for? This is our chance to settle our vendetta with the cult once and for all. Our chance to make them pay for everything they’ve done.”
“Including getting us into trouble,” Rick put in, an angry frown on his face.
Vincent looked from one to the other. Karl’s brown eyes were stern with dissatisfaction, and Rick continued to wear an angry frown but twitched his red mustache irritably. The opportunity to finally gain closure was indeed a tempting offer. If he could somehow take everything out on the cult, he wondered if it might make him feel better. They would certainly deserve it. There were dangers though; it would not be a simple venting of frustration.
Memories of surviving the attack on the vault passed before his mind’s eye as did the frightful horror of their last encounter in which he was nearly killed several times and almost fatally bitten by a wyvern. He had come so close. They had barely made it back at all. This time he might not be so lucky, and he knew it. Even with more people on his side, this time he might die. Everyone left things unsaid, things unfinished in their life, and after they had passed away, there was no chance to go back and do them. There were several things that Vincent wanted done before he died, but one stood out more than others.
“Alright, I’ll come,” he relented. “But there’s something I have to take care of first.”
“Well whatever it is, you better make it quick,” Karl said. “We’re stopping in the city to gather supplies. Then we’re going to hire some mercenaries and join forces with the magistrate’s men. After that, we march. You have until then.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll catch up.”
Karl and Rick ran off toward the gate while Vincent hurriedly set down the bucket and its contents to his right on the grass near the paved road. “Don’t take long!” Rick called out after him.
Vincent’s legs worked as fast as they could, pushing past stiffness and his own slightly damp clothes. The air raced past him, cooling him, but his body heated up just the same. His heart continued to beat faster, and not from the quick pace alone. An inscrutable feeling, both anxious and fearful at the same time, made his pulse
quicken. His left hand holding his sword steady at his side clenched tighter, and his feet moved rapidly in front of one another, carrying him toward the one place he wanted to go before he left.
The gardens.
* * *
When Vincent arrived, Jessica wasn’t there. He paced swiftly around every tree, every bush, searching frantically, but didn’t find her. He went through to the other side again and then back. Nothing. He grabbed his hair in his fists, slowly walking back down the small path that would lead him toward the outside. Then he turned around and headed back. How long could he dare to wait? Desperation boiled up through his chest, scalding his insides with anxiety, demanding release. He needed to talk to her but he needed to go. What would he do if he couldn’t find her? Where was she! He paced several moments more, searching while feeling as though he would lose his mind.
As soon as he saw her come out of a door on the side of one of the buildings, carrying a small clay pot with a flower in it, he called out her name excitedly. She looked up with a surprised expression. He immediately felt his previous anxiety replaced by another, one that threatened him with inaction. He stepped forward anyway, remembering why he was here.
“I need to talk to you.”
When he came closer, going around a low hanging branch of thin leaves, her eyes met his. “What is it?”
His heart pounded and he gently took hold of the pot she carried and set it on the ring of gray bricks surrounding the tree at his right. Then he took her dirty hands in his, and her beautiful blue eyes looked up more shocked and confused than ever. He tried his best to make himself speak. “Things have gotten out of hand,” he started. “Master Anthony has assembled a…we’re going after Clyde.” She looked on with an expression that said she didn’t quite understand, and so he quickly explained further. “Clyde is the cult’s ringleader.” Her eyes widened. “We found him again, only this time he’s razing villages. Master Anthony is leading a force to destroy him.
And I’m going with them.”
“Oh,” she said, removing her hands. An angry visage crept over her features and she averted her eyes. He could tell she was having other thoughts. He knew she had a score to settle with the cult as well. He had to get through to her before he lost her.
When he spoke, her gaze returned to his. “Jessica, I didn’t come to tell you just to make up for not having done so before. I have to tell you something else and I may not get another chance.” A warm and unusual feeling grew in his stomach. “It’s perfectly alright if you don’t feel the same way, I’ll understand if you don’t, but before I go, I just wanted to tell you…” he stared into her eyes, holding them in the moment as he took another breath, “…that I love you.”
Jessica backed away, blinking several times, looking bewildered but also distinctly uncomfortable. She bumped into the door behind her. Vincent couldn’t take the next breath. Jessica didn’t seem to be able to bring herself to say anything.
Vincent swallowed, thinking that maybe he had said more than he should have. Maybe this was a mistake. His voice, when it came, was unusually soft as he looked in her eyes. “…I mean, couldn’t you tell? I like plants…but I didn’t keep coming here this whole time just for the greenery…I came to be with you.”
Jessica’s face was suddenly overcome with a sullen look. She folded her arms across her breasts. Her eyes glanced off to the side and then came back to his with a glare. “What about Stacy? What would she say?”
Vincent was confused both by the question and her seeming anger. “She already knows that I like you…she’d probably be happy for me…” he forced himself to swallow, “…if my feelings were requited.”
“But you and Stacy are…” she stopped, appearing to find the subject unpleasant.
“Are what?”
“You know.” She declared, prompting him to make a connection.
His head kept its aim at her while it jerked back, a frown creasing his brow. “Oh, you think that Stacy and I…” his head moved slightly forward again and he looked at her questioningly as if to make sure this was what she was thinking. Her own expression continued on as before as if to affirm it, and he became more perplexed than he had ever been. “…What?…No! What gave you that idea?”
“I heard someone say you’ve been spending a lot of time with her in the library…at night.”
Vincent shook his head. “That’s absurd. We were researching something the boys found out about the cult. It’s not like we’ve ever…we never even kissed or anything.”
Her mind seemed to toss this back and forth. She probably thought he could be lying and trying to be with two women. Vincent couldn’t see how she could believe that. The idea of him ascending to the status of being the lover of Stacy, of all people, who was then trying to cheat on her…it was ridiculous. He didn’t know where such a rumor had started, but it was insane.
It was clear that Jessica was still considering. “So you and Stacy aren’t really…?”
Vincent looked her in the eyes with affection and concern. “No. I’ve always wanted you,” he said honestly. She said nothing. “Ask Stacy if you don’t believe me,” he suggested, “I mean…well she’s not around…she went with the scouts…but if she were here, you could ask her…and she would tell you that we’re not…”
Jessica’s smile came slowly, accompanied by a few small laughs. “It’s alright, Vincent. I believe you.”
She took a few steps forward and closed the distance, stopping just in front of him, and gazed at him lovingly with her beautiful blue eyes and smile. She let out a quiet yet excited breath. His heart pounded in his ears louder than ever before, so much that he thought she could surely hear it. A warmth surged throughout his entire body while they stared at one another. He felt her soft wonderful hands reach out and take hold of his arms.
She gently pulled him down for a kiss, and he went willingly. Their lips touched and his world turned to bliss. Her soft hands went higher, one holding him behind the neck, the other behind his shoulder. He instinctively put his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. Her breasts pressed against him. Their lips moved but only a little.
The experience was like nothing he had ever felt before. It was warmth, goodness, fulfillment, and ecstasy all wrapped into one. He didn’t want it to ever end, but finally it did. She pulled back and they both opened their eyes. They stood holding each other lovingly, listening to each other’s breaths and gazing into each other’s eyes. Jessica gave him a gentle, affectionate squeeze of her hands. She smiled and pulled him in for another. Hot passion ignited within him.
They parted lips again but held the embrace, staring at one another. All he could think about was how much he loved her. Every fiber of his being resonated with happiness and contentment. It was like something warm, something tangible. It was so strong that if he could have poured it out of his heart and into hers, to let her know how much he loved her, he would have.
“You should have said something sooner,” she whispered.
“How does one go about giving a flower to someone who is surrounded by them all day?” She laughed softly again, continuing to show him her beautiful smile, and when done, it gave him joy to hear her let out a satisfied sigh.
It was soon tempered by a rising worry. His sudden alarm triggered a look of concern on her face. He pushed out from Jessica, holding her by the shoulders at arm’s length. “I have to go!” He said frantically. “My friends need me!”
She held on tight to his lower arms before he could pull away, making him turn his attention back to her. “Wait! Maybe they already have enough people. You might not have to go. Stay here.”
Vincent shook his head vigorously. “The dark ones are intractable! You don’t know how ruthless they are! Things could go very wrong very fast! I have to be there to help!” He couldn’t believe that earlier he had even thought about not helping.
She looked into his eyes, considering. “Then I’ll let you come with me,” she said at last.
He no
w understood her original meaning.
Images of the blood-filled, gut-wrenching horror of combat immediately flashed before his eyes. “No!” He burst out loudly, making her flinch. He then remembered himself. “…I mean um, it’s too dangerous. I’ll fight much better knowing that you’re safe over here.”
A scowl formed on her face. “They killed Harold!” She reminded. “I have more magic than you do. If anything, I should go and you should stay!”
Jessica was underestimating him. She didn’t know what he had been through. At the moment, he didn’t care about his pride. That wasn’t what he was worried about. He was far more worried that she was underestimating their enemy, underestimating what it meant to be caught up in a violent struggle. She just didn’t know. How could she?
He shook his head. He had to make her understand. “You’re going to need more than magic to survive them.”
“Like what?” She asked, the scowl still on her face.
Vincent tried his best to articulate it. “Like courage………and a lot of luck. Your nerves can improve over time, but no one can give you luck. Death isn’t so easy to avoid.”
“I’m not staying here after they killed my little brother!”
“Jessica, it’s not…”
“Get out of my way!” She started to push past him.
Before she could, he forcefully grabbed her by the shoulders. “YOU’LL JUST BE KILLED TOO!”
Everything was quiet for several moments. Jessica stared long and hard at him. For a time, his own expression didn’t change. He strained himself to quickly think of how best to reason with her again, and made himself speak before her shock wore off.
“Jessica, I know you’re angry about what they did to Harold. I know you want revenge. I do too. But you can’t rush into this. Battles are a terror you can’t even begin to imagine. You may think you are doing the right thing by trying to avenge your brother, but if you enter the fight, none of that will matter. They won’t care that he was your brother, and they won’t care that what they did was wrong. They’ll just kill you, viciously, any way they can. That you are right won’t save you. It will come so quick you might not even see it, and once done, it can’t be undone-you’ll be gone. The others won’t be able to help you; you’ll be dead, and they’ll be too busy fighting to keep the same from happening to them.”
Storm of Prophecy: Book 1, Dark Awakening Page 34