“Do not harm her! She has done nothing,” Charles said to the group at large.
To which Matthew replied, “That is not our intent, sphere-dweller.”
Charles and Clara both heard the note of disdain in his voice and he looked at them as if insulted that they would think he would harm the female which lay vulnerable and injured at their feet.
Stephen looked down at Charles. “It was our plan to take her, not you. It was happenstance that you were here... and the others,” he shrugged. Like their death had been collateral damage and not of great importance.
Bracus knew that time was short. He stood, and bending over he hauled the Princess to her feet.
Clara was suddenly on her feet and up from her horrible position on the ground, but the movement had been too fast and she swayed, feeling overcome physically with all that had transpired. As she felt her vision narrowing, her body filled up with heat. It began at her feet and rushed to her head, she knew she would faint.
“No you don't, Princess,” the savage said, swooping her right off the ground. Clara wasn't sure this was an improvement as her face lulled against his huge chest and his arms folded her into his body as if she were the size of a child. To him, she probably was.
“Do not take her!” Charles yelled, struggling against the guards and Bracus gave Stephen a terse nod and he slammed his fist into Charles temple, his body slumping to the floor in a heap.
“No!” Clara screamed, struggling in the grip of the savage, but to no avail, he had terrible strength and stood immune to her movements.
Suddenly, the savage that she did not trust was in her face. “Be still. You needed the rescuing from what we saw.”
Clara cringed back from him in fear and Bracus' eyes narrowed. Her response did not make sense. Why was she so afraid?
“Cease this; we mean you no harm,” Bracus told her.
She stopped and looked up into Bracus' face, his intense hazel eyes warm with sincerity and it was all too much.
Clara fainted.
CHAPTER 22
Bracus looked down at the still form of the Princess and couldn't believe she was finally in his arms. He checked his expression to escape notice. She lay so light in his embrace. A fragile thing. He hugged her tighter to him and her head rolled against his chest.
He looked over at the large male with yellow hair who still lived, rage shimmering within Bracus. Killing him now would be best.
He looked at Philip who nodded and prepared to land the killing blow but Stephen interrupted, “Do not.” Philip's hand hesitated, hovering over his breastbone. “He looks to be someone of importance.”
They took in his regal attire, heavy gold rings and thin band which lay atop his head.
Bracus made a noise in the back of his throat, he was a loathsome man. “He does not deserve to live.”
“I agree. But, if we wish for our negotiations to move forward, killing a person of importance may not assist our cause,” Stephen said.
He was right, but there was something primitive in Bracus that wished to end the life of he who had laid violence against the Princess.
He wavered.
Finally, he walked over to him and ground his heel into his groin with crushing force. A low moan escaped Prince Frederic.
Bracus smiled, that had felt good.
The Band laughed. It would be some time before he tried to take a female by force.
The Band silently made their way out of the tear in the sphere wall.
Joseph turned around once they were out, calling out to the Band, “Look upon it,” he said, pointing to the slit.
They watched it begin to repair itself. The Evil Ones had thought of a contingency for a sphere breach. They wished not for an intermingling of the two Peoples. Well... Bracus thought... they would have a surprise.
The Band closed in around him and kept their senses alert for intruders from other clans or the fragment.
*
They reached the forest border, relief washing over Bracus.
They came upon their horses and with the evening meal almost upon them they found a mossy area by the stream and lay the Princess down upon it. She barely stirred. Bracus did not like the deep shadows that lay beneath her eyes and the paleness of her face. He brought out his knapsack and rifled through it until he came upon a blanket, the one he had chosen especially for its tightly woven properties. He laid it over her. As it was made for him, he was able to take the excessive length and use part of it to bundle up as a makeshift pillow.
The Band drew together and looked down upon her.
Stephen spoke first, “She looks weak.”
“She is, dolt,” Philip said, frowning at him, massive hands planted on his hips.
“It would be interesting to find out what her intentions were this day. Where were they going? Were they traveling with that guard?” Joseph reasoned out loud.
Bracus shook his head. “I do not think so. Did you notice the one that was committing violence against her? Their clothing was different. They are not from her home sphere.”
Bracus watched the slight rise and fall of her chest, having never laid eyes on a woman this small, she was very close in stature to the young Evelyn who tended the well. But how brave she had been! With huge, strange males all around, she had pleaded for the life of her friend. He looked more closely at her. She wore the strange clothes again and a bejeweled crown sat upon her head. He shook his head, the mystery of it all deepening.
“So frail,” Matthew said, bending down close to her still form he picked up her hand, the full size of it taking up only his palm, his fingers free of it.
“Don't touch her,” Bracus spoke to Matthew in a low, clear voice.
Matthew looked at him, carefully putting Clara's hand down where it had been, his eyebrows raising as he straightened to his full height.
“Why, Captain?”
Bracus realized his mistake too late. He did not want any male touching her. “I do not wish her to awaken and find your ugly mug above her.”
The Band laughed at the joke and the tenseness left like water through netting.
Philip clapped Matthew on the back. “Come, let us find food. It has been a long day, and I, for one, wish to end it with a full belly and the stars above me.”
Bracus chose Joseph to watch over Clara, instructing him to give the alert if she awoke. He nodded solemnly. He understood better than the others because he wished for Anna to love him. In turn, he may be more careful with this new female.
Bracus walked away, the need to stay by the Princess' side and unbearable pull that no amount of shaking off would loosen.
CHAPTER 23
Clara opened her eyes slowly, the cold waking her. She did not know at first where she lay. A damp, lightweight blanket covered her from foot to chin and she discovered one lay under her head as well. She cautiously turned her head to the left and the huge savage lay beside her, then at her right was the other savage. The one that made her heart race with trepidation.
Her mind flooded with memories of the last moments before she fainted: Charles struck down, the guards killed, Prince Frederic on the floor, unconscious. That they had not killed her was a mystery. They probably wanted details of the kingdom; they would not have it.
It was the least she could do.
Clara removed her crown, laying it behind her head, symbolic of her dislike of being a Princess, it could stay where it lay. She sat up quietly and looked at the sky, the stars glittered above her like diamonds in black velvet. Taking a deep breath she was assaulted by the dryness of the air, cool on her lungs, she stifled an urge to cough. The air was so strange Outside. The Record Keeper had been mistaken, for she lived.
She breathed, and she lived.
Her people did not need to be confined to the sphere.
Clara looked at the savage who lay beside her, his chest rising and falling with each breath, her eyes traveled to his gills and they fascinated her. They flowed apart and together with synchron
icity.
She shook her misgivings away, she need not dally. Now was the time for escape. She spied her knapsack at the base of her bed and quietly crawled to the end of the bedding, careful not to rustle or make noise. She looped the knapsack over her shoulder as she stood, then round the other and backed away.
As she was turning she noted that there were five males, all the biggest she had ever seen in her life. She knew that they were humanoid, but not entirely. With the gills and the hugely muscled physique, she was not absolutely certain of it.
She moved away slowly, gaining distance, placing her feet in areas where the brush was least and she could traverse it silently. She looked above her, noting the moon was full, so bright outside the sphere it hurt her eyes to look upon it.
She traveled, wishing all the while that she could stop and appreciate finally having escaped to the Outside. As she walked she made her way to the forest border, seeing the sphere beneath her and thought of Charles. What would be his fate? Again, it was more her fault than she liked to admit.
Tears burned unshed in her eyes, could she do nothing for anyone? She was by herself, having escaped Prince Frederic and the Queen's abuse. But what of food, shelter and clothing? She sighed, moving forward.
Feeling thirsty, she disentangled her knapsack. Lowering it as she squatted and searched for the water bottle she remembered Charles had filled before the guards and Frederic had come upon them. She shuddered, remembering. He would have raped her had it not been for the savages' timely interruption. A momentary pang of guilt seized her, but she would not let it overwhelm her. She needed to escape them as well. Charles' sacrifice would not be for nothing.
She gulped the cool water down, relishing its sweetness, placing her palm on the rough bark of the tree, feeling the texture of it for the first time. So many new tactile experiences.
It was at that moment Clara became aware of a noise behind her and immediately thought of an animal or some such. The Record Keeper told tales of large animals in the wilderness of the Outside.
Clara whirled around, her skirt swirling around her legs and before her stood the savage. Clara's heart stopped in her throat, a look of rage stood on his face. Clara did not hesitate, she turned and ran.
She could hear his pursuit and realized it might be futile but she would not just stand there, prey to be taken.
Branches grabbed and tore at her clothing as she ran, her shoes a hindrance, the corset binding her lungs.
Crashing behind her, the savage came.
When she felt she could run no more and the breath burned in her throat his strong arms clasped her from behind and he lifted her off her feet. She kicked and flailed about, trying futilely for release but his arms were bands of brass, unyielding and hard.
“Be still! I mean you no harm!” he spoke by her ear urgently.
Clara stilled. It was no use, she could not escape the Prince and his guard, she could not escape the savages. Her fate was sealed, she was not her own mistress but the mistress of others.
****
Bracus looked down at the Princess as she struggled, good Lord, was she a fighter! For such a small female, how she thrashed about. Bracus worked to subdue her without hurting her, harder than it seemed. Finally wrapping his arms over the top of hers from behind and folding her against his frame where her head touched his chest. She slowed her struggles when he told her but he did not trust that she would cooperate. He cautiously released her and she turned on him, furious...those beautiful eyes flashing, one still bruised and swollen.
Clara turned on the savage, angry at him for capturing her, angry at the circumstance, angry about everything.
“Let me go,” she hissed, her bravado slipping before such a huge male.
“I cannot,” he answered, spreading his arms wide.
Somehow, this is not how Bracus envisioned their first meeting to be.
“I have escaped the sphere and wish to be free. I do not want to be forced anymore,” she looked around her and became aware that the remaining savages had subtly appeared in the holes between the trees and her anxiety grew. She felt claustrophobic, their presence a reminder that possibly, a new prison awaited.
“We mean you no harm. We wish to establish a peace between our peoples...”
“So... you kidnap me,” Clara raised a brow, looking at each savage before her, their eyes glittering back in the shattered light cast by the moon. “You rip a hole in the sphere...”
“How else were we to establish communication?” Bracus asked logically.
Clara crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes, feigning bravery she did not feel. “Peaceably?”
Bracus was silent. This was not going as expected, her exterior did not match the fire within. “I am Bracus.”
“I am Clara,” she said, looking at each savage amongst the trees. If they meant to kill her, they would have done so already. Her eyes rested on the savage who had been outside her sphere the one time. She was not sure what role he played but she felt least confident about him.
“We need you to accompany us. Our President has a proposal...”
“Your president?” What was that? thought Clara.
“Our leader,” Philip said stepping forward and Clara automatically stepped back, which made Bracus itch to touch her, his hands clenching by his sides to halt the action.
They had no King she asked herself?
Bracus saw her expression and interpreting it correctly answered, “We have a different hierarchy, Princess,” he said.
“You don't seem like savages...” except for the clothes, or lack thereof, she thought. But she wisely kept that to herself.
Bracus was offended. “We are not savages. We are the Clan of Ohio. And these men and myself... we are the Band, the protectors of our clan.”
Clara covered her mouth, the what? She looked up at him, willing herself not to laugh but they all wore serious expressions.
The savage that frightened her came forward and she cringed back. Bracus, seeing her expression looked that way and saw nothing but the Band. What frightened her so?
He opened his mouth to inquire when she spoke, “What do you mean to do with me?”
“Just a meeting with our President for a possible negotiation. Then you may return.”
She never wanted to return. Not as long as the queen ruled or Frederic held her captive under the sham of a marriage for alliance.
“But first, I must ask: who has laid their hands upon you?”
She had no idea what he was talking about.
He touched his own face, indicating her injuries and she was reminded of the beating.
Automatically she replied, “I fell, in the Royal Manse, two days past.”
He stepped closer and she fought not to move away, her knees weak.
“I know the abuse of a hand and the difference between that and clumsiness. You did not fall,” he stated with surety.
Clara said nothing. By sheer habit and force of will she held her tongue. She was ashamed by her face, by not being able to defend herself. At least she would not admit it all to this stranger. Bracus, her mind supplied.
Bracus wished to run his hand over her injured face, erasing it from her; why would she not admit the truth? There was much here he needed to understand. There would be time for it. Somehow, in some way he could not explain, she reminded him of Anna, but not near so timid. She had a fire inside her that burned bright. He smiled at her upturned face.
She smiled tentatively back, her anger beginning to leak away. She did not feel harm from him. Clara felt she was near expert in determining if someone meant it.
He turned, making his way ahead of her and she followed. Her future lay uncertain before her and she must follow it where it led, even if the outcome was a mystery. He held his hand out, and she lay hers within it as he clasped it around her, the size swallowing it whole. He made her feel safe, she was not sure why. She turned to look behind her. The savage that she did not trust was at her heel, dark intent shadowi
ng his face and she shuddered, walking on.
The guard was biding his time. The Princess, Clara, he corrected, holding the hand of his Captain. She was so close he could have reached out and moved his palm through her hair, which had come undone from its tether during all the transit. But he knew that time was his friend... and soon enough, he would have his chance to have her all to himself. Protecting his clan from the dangerous females of the sphere.
****
They traveled back the way they had come, Clara and the Band. The horses came into view, Briar Rose appearing silver in the moonlight, a spattering of a darker color appearing along her back and sides. She shone like a faded star and Clara was drawn to her as a moth to flame.
Bracus released her hand reluctantly as she approached the horse, and he warned her, “Not from behind, Princess, a horse likes to see a person's approach.”
“Clara,” she corrected absently.
Changing the direction she had been moving, coming right up underneath the animal's nose, she turned to Bracus. “May I pet it?”
“Her,” he corrected. “Briar Rose.”
“From the fairy tale?”
He looked surprised. “I have heard such.”
“Mayhap we have some of the same literature.”
“Much of what we had was lost,” Bracus said.
Philip added, “In the Time when Ash Covered the Earth we lost many things of importance.”
Stephen interrupted harshly, “It is not important. Survival is important. That is all that matters now.”
Matthew shrugged and Joseph said, “It is a hard thing, survival. But, if happiness and purpose could be obtained as well, I would be keen for that.”
The group of men nodded and Clara felt that their two peoples were not as divergent as she had presumed.
Reaching out, she touched the great horse's nose and it was crushed velvet beneath her hand. She had never known another texture like it, so shocking.
She drew her hand away and looked at Bracus. “She is so soft.”
As if on cue, Briar Rose neighed softly, shaking her mane and bumping Clara's hand, an invitation for more petting that made her laugh.
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