“And you do? Know him?” Stephen spit out, angry at the situation, frustrated at their position. The Princess gone, maybe taken by a member of the Band. Or worse, in the hands of the fragment.
“He spoke of his past only one time.” They all waited for him to continue. “And there was a girl...”
“How old was he when he came to us?” Lillian asked for clarity, knowing that Anna knew even less than she.
“Ten and two years.” Stephen said immediately.
“He was with the fragment and how he was with them we do not know, as they have no Band. But, he was mistreated by all, save one girl, Margaret. She saw that he had food enough to exist, but could do no more. Later, when some males discovered what she meant to him, they assaulted her in front of him unto her death. He vowed that he would never care about a female again.”
“This would have been good information to share,” Stephen said with real reproach.
Joseph sighed. “He swore me to secrecy. He promised it would not affect his duty to the Band.”
“Isn't it a biological directive to protect if you are Band?” Lillian asked.
“It is,” Stephen said slowly. “But it is entirely possible he has some internal wires crossed; his directive becoming mixed with the environment in which he was raised.”
“When he was forming, a young man subjected to that much abuse...” Anna trailing off, entering the conversation again.
“Yes, it would be a devastating start for one of the Band. We are aggressive by nature and that kind of treatment, over time would not be ideal.” Joseph said.
“Ideal?” Stephen questioned sarcastically. “If he has indeed taken Clara, then we are honor-bound to find him before something irrevocable happens to her or to him.”
“Agreed,” Joseph said. “But how,” he asked, flashing a palm toward the women. “We cannot leave them here and the clan unguarded.”
Stephen had an idea. “Is President Bowen still here?”
Joseph nodded.
A look of relief washed over Stephen's face. “He can remain with his Band and leave after our return.”
“What do we say about Matthew?”
“For now we treat this as a disappearance, what if Matthew is not responsible? Then we cast doubt upon him forever with an unproven accusation. No. We see the President now,” he looked at the women, “Go now to your dwellings, say nothing. We will return and tell you what will happen.”
Lillian did not like that Matthew was being afforded this benefit. But, she realized it was justice, of a sort. After all, he was twenty and two years and there had never been anything she had heard that was contrary to his loyal protection of the clan. Still, Clara was gone.
A frown furrowed the area between her eyes. How much more could the Princess withstand?
****
Charles and Clarence came into view of a huge timber fence with single logs too big for a man to embrace. The tops of which had been sharpened to pencil points. He was sure that he could see the flash of a fire which burned in the heart of it.
“It looks like this is the end of the trail. The savages must abide here.”
Charles nodded. They were achingly tired, having traveled two days to this spot. But he must try to penetrate the fence and find Clara. At the very least, he needed to know that she lived.
A large gate swung open and two huge men exited One was speaking heatedly with the smaller guard that was operating the gate. Another man that was noticeably older with an air of authority (the Queen came to mind) gestured toward a point which was north of here.
They crouched down, unmoving. “Savages,” Clarence breathed out.
Charles nodded, taking in the huge males' height and something he wasn't sure how to name. There was a lethal grace in the way they moved. He had trepidation about the potential to come against them, yet Clara had been taken. He swallowed back his anxiety. Some things needed to be done, regardless of how one felt about it. Bravery was a matter of containing your fear while throwing away caution.
They watched as the savages threw strange-looking knapsacks on their backs. A small stable boy approached with giant horses; horses that bore no resemblance to those of the sphere. Where was Clara, Charles thought in frustration?
Suddenly, a women ran to one of the savages throwing her arms around him. He hugged her hesitantly at first then the hug turned fierce as he wrapped his arms around her until she was engulfed in his embrace, his size overwhelming hers.
They waited.
****
Anna and Lillian watched President Bowen argue with Stephen and knew that if Bracus was here, things would not be at the fever pitch that they had slid into.
“Bracus is rescuing Evelyn now and you are reclaiming the Princess?” President Bowen said derisively. “Why was there only one guard on her?”
Stephen held his temper, but it was a near thing, swimmingly close to the surface, as it was for all the Band. “It is as I said before. The women,” he gestured to Lillian and Anna, “planned to bathe at the springs and we felt that inside the border, they would be safe enough with one member of the Band about.”
President Bowen's gaze fell like a weight on Stephen. He held his breath, hoping beyond anything that Bowen would not intuit the circumstances of her disappearance. What if Matthew had claimed her in some odd way? What if she were a select? After all, had she not responded strangely to first Philip and then Matthew? None if it bore any sense. It was his natural directive to protect, which would be even more amplified with a female. However, with the knowledge of his abuse at the hands of the fragment, his motives were now in question.
The President ran a hand through what little hair he had atop his head and with a heavy sigh said, “We will stay for two days hence, with my Band.” and he frowned. “But know this, I want that Princess back here, standing in front of me, unharmed. Do you understand?”
He did.
“I will, Mr. President,” Stephen replied, casting a glance at Joseph who looked like he may have been nervous. But the Band were predators, heaping emotion or perceived weakness under the veil of blankness. They all did that very well. It was automatic, akin to breathing.
Bowen narrowed his eyes at Stephen and pointed his finger at his chest, where his head reached. “Do not engage the fragment, they are too many without your Band mates. Even for her.”
He nodded but knew if she was coming to harm, he and Joseph would die to save her.
A sound made him turn and it was Anna, running toward them.
Now what?
Joseph looked at her with contained care, his desire riding in his eyes, bypassing his instinct for indifference. She leaped into his arms making him stagger back from the impact. Then hesitatingly, he wrapped her in his fierce embrace.
She pulled away from him just a little and they stared into each others eyes. Hers were brimming with unshed tears. On his face rode a stunned expression of surprise that he made no attempt to hide.
Stephen looked on with interest. He could not believe this was Anna.
Apparently, neither could Joseph.
“Why now?” he whispered bending down, his lips moving close to her ear.
“I don't want to lose you, I know that now,” she stammered, the first fat tear making a wet trail down her cheek. It trembled at her jaw and Joseph used a finger to catch it.
“I will return for you,” Joseph said simply, his fingertips climbing their way up her arms, where they grasped her shoulders. He drew her closer and she looked up at him, putting a hand on his chest.
She warned, “It will not be simple between us.”
Joseph shrugged. “Nothing valuable is gained through ease.”
She smiled and it was sun breaking through the clouds, he couldn't help but grin back. It was a contagious thing, breaking the tension of the preceding moments like rain in a desert. It was a fine thing to see a member of the Band commit to a female and she to him.
The President said, “I do not wish to separa
te two so newly linked...” he trailed off.
Anna looked at him with gravity. “I understand duty.”
He nodded. “I am glad that you do, but I will not lie. I am unsure as to how and where the Princess and Matthew may be... what danger awaits them.” he looked at Joseph and Stephen tilting his head in their direction. “I cannot make promises.”
She nodded, drying tears marking her face. But it was a face that shone with hope, an expression she had not owned in some time.
Joseph felt for the first time in his life there may be something beside purpose and duty. And he now had an inkling about what made Jack who he was. He had Lillian, the other half that made him whole.
Anna felt the feather light kiss that Joseph brushed against her forehead and steeled herself not to hurl her body on his; stopping him from leaving her. Now that she had decided to trust him the grief she felt from his departure crushed her, immobilizing her. She prayed that he felt as she did.
She watched his broad back disappear on his horse, Stephen riding beside him.
Trepidation and fear swirled around her heart like clinging fingers of mist, a shroud she hoped not to bear forever.
CHAPTER 31
Queen Ada's gaze narrowed on the scarred mess of the sphere tunnel's wall. She was unconcerned about the ramifications of her actions. All that mattered is she retrieve her imbecilic daughter and keep the Wedded Day firmly within sight.
She looked about her impatiently, where was that ridiculous man? Ah! Coming toward him in a halting bumble was the Record Keeper's associate, Ernest. He was an abiding fool, but Ada needed him. He held precious maps, set aside from the time Before Ash Covered the Earth.
He twisted and wrung his hands as he neared her. A fine sweat beaded his upper lip, his waistcoat soaked with nervous sweat. “My Queen,” he said dipping his head and bowing twice.
Insufferable fool.
She placed her hands on her hips, the guards swarming around her like pesky but necessary wasps.
“I have the records you need, the maps.” He held up long scrolls of paper bound together with different colored ribbons, each color signifying a different geographical area.
“Fine,” she said the word curtly and she saw him cringe. Ada looked around for a moment then snapped her fingers, her string of pearls hitting her hip as she whirled around to face the nearest guard who approached.
“My Queen,” the guard dropped to his knee before her.
She rolled her eyes. “Stand.”
He stood, his guarded eyes assessing her mood and finding it foul, as usual.
“You will be in charge of these documents,” flinging her hand in Ernest's direction.
“Yes, my Queen,” he said with gravity. What he really knew, looking at Ernest, who nodded with a bob of his head, was he would pay with his life if they left his sight or he guided them wrong. Or, if the Princess was not recovered.
He had a dim hope that something good would come of this. But like the other guards, he knew that without the princess' involvement in the kingdom, they were utterly lost. The Queen wished to drink from the cup and the Prince of Kentucky was a tyrant bent on reigning through fear, threats and abuse. How he wished for the days under Kind Raymond. Henry hoped that they could recover the Princess and put her where she belonged. Selfishly, he knew that the Prince was the very worst match for her. From what he had heard from the guards who were on shift the prior eve, the prince was a danger to the Princess as well.
There was no easy solution.
The Queen observed the machinations of Henry and did not care for a guard that thought overly much. She preferred her guards simpler. Ada had been fortunate not to have Henry or other guards like him that night when Clara had needed discipline.
“Leave us,” the Queen said, dismissing Ernest by turning her back on him.
He glanced nervously at her back then at Henry. Finally he shuffled to Henry, keeping a wide berth around the queen and handing the maps off to him. Henry nodded to Ernest as his departure kicked up dust from the floor of the tunnel.
Henry called over the guard who had the salt solution then turned to the Queen. “The sphere's wall is but a vapor now, my Queen. May I restate my earlier opinion that a...” he began.
She cut him off with an impatient wave of her hand, “Your opinions have been duly noted and I care not. Obviously, our need for protection from the Outside air has been greatly exaggerated. Mayhap the Guardians were not so benign after all.”
Henry sucked in his breath, she had overstepped herself. Such blasphemy was inexcusable.
She smiled slyly at him. “Fear not, the Guardians have not been a presence these one hundred forty years past. I do not quibble with things that are no longer real.”
Henry felt they were very real considering the advancements that kept their sphere and the other nineteen running seamlessly. The spheres themselves were also a marvel. Could she not see the importance of it all? He loathed her for her purposeful ignorance.
“We will traverse this wall, we will follow the trail of my disobedient daughter and her cohort. Do you wish to contradict me in this, guard?” she stepped into his personal space, so close that their chests were almost touching.
He stood his ground, keeping his gaze respectful with an effort. She took the challenge of civility seriously.
“I thought not,” she said triumphantly.
He wished to strike her.
Her thoughtlessness for the people of the sphere a palpable disregard.
She smiled at him, some of what he felt must leak out of the pores of his skin, he could not contain it all. His allegiance to the kingdom lay firmly with the dead monarch, not the living one. And in the future it would most certainly be with Princess Clara; that was his fervent wish.
The guard who Henry had called stood before him and he nodded. The Queen watched from his side as a large glass canister was emptied of its contents in one smooth movement and flick of the wrist.
It splattered across the surface of the tunnel wall, now thrice compromised, a thing of terrible beauty damaged forever. It no longer hissed but began to evaporate at a maddening pace. The once opaque iridescence dissolving to the Outside. The wind and smell of a million different things in a nature Henry had never experienced, assaulted his senses.
It was overwhelming.
He looked over at the Queen and saw that she was similarly stunned. The other guards shifted around nervously. Finally, after a few long minutes, the Queen's royal guard led their stout horses through the portal into the Outside, the sunlight streaming down upon them.
The heat from the orb lit upon their skin with a vibrant warmth that instantly cheered Henry, his very marrow awakening. He thought regardless of circumstance that he would like the experience. Very much. The smells of the Outside were like tasting food in his nose. Impossibly rich.
Henry immediately surveyed his surroundings, looking for the clues of other humans and found many. His frown deepened. The meadow grass had many imprints, but of varying size, depth and type.
He knew the footprints of the savages by sheer size alone. The leathers that they wore were distinctive as well. An odd configuration possibly meant for traction graced the soil in the soft earth. Henry was internally relieved that no rain had fallen since Clara was taken. That would have ruined the trail. He placed his shoe next to indentations of the savages' prints and saw theirs were thirty percent longer and half that more wide. They were formidable in size, the savages.
He looked up at Queen Ada from his crouch and he could see that she understood his advice for the entire guard had not been unfounded.
They looked at each other for a swollen moment. Henry stood, looking at the guards on their mounts. He gave the signal with his finger that they needed to spread out, twirling it once, twice. One guard stayed behind, the Queen pulled behind his horse in a contraption most odd. But it saved her sensibilities and her wine was within reach as well.
She spoke to him almost on a level eq
ual with he, lifting her flask, she used it to gesture at him. “What say you? How much longer?”
Henry held a neutral expression as she took a very un-royal like pull from the flask. “I do not know. However, they would have had to seek shelter somewhere nearby. They sought a place with cover, water... seclusion.” he shrugged. “Mayhap, it will be eight hours hence to reach such a place.”
Henry unrolled one of the scrolled maps looking at it intently. One such water source could be clearly seen. Perhaps it was the source of the Great Lake that the pearls were harvested from. He shoved that thought away for future reflection. He had not time to think on speculations.
Ada narrowed her eyes on him, glaring. He understood that she wished to find Clara but he could not instantly transport them to the proper location. He was as new to this terrain as she.
“Let us make haste,” she said.
Henry nodded. Finally she would be silent and let them begin the journey.
He walked over to his guards and they all took turns looking at the map, discussing the different routes. They decided on bedding down adjacent to the water source, which looked to be some kind of stream or small river. Possibly feeding into the Ohio he decided.
He jogged back to where the Queen was and conveyed the plan.
“Fine,” she said tersely, taking another pull from her wine flask. “Fill this, Henry. I become thirsty and need additional quenching.”
He turned, sighing quietly to himself... ghastly royal.
Henry poured the wine from the larger flask into the smaller then added some spirits. He would get the Queen drunk enough so that she passed out. That would be merciful to the guard, he thought, adding a bit more.
Turning, he handed over the flask and she tore it out of his grip without acknowledgment.
She reclined in her odd contraption, equal parts leather and wood. The cage-like creation of hammered copper with brass fittings held her in a half egg metal cocoon piled with cushions in the interior. Steam hissed to provide light when it was needed, hanging off a brass hook which shimmered like gold in the sunlight.
The SAVAGE Series, Books 1-3: The Pearl Savage, The Savage Blood and The Savage Principle Page 21