by Jane Keeler
Slowly then, and gathering pace, he began to move, backwards and forwards, in and out. Her breath came in pants, and with them small gasps of sound, high in her throat and unbidden. Once he had found his rhythm he became more forceful, thrusting deeper and faster, grunting here and there with the sensations that were stirred in him. She bit her lip, hard, as he put his hands to her breasts again, and she tasted blood.
After a time that was both the barest of moments and the longest of eternities, his cries began to mingle with hers, and he thrust faster and faster until finally the rhythm became lost, staccato. He cried out her name and was lost in ecstasy for a moment, before losing his energy and slumping down to one side of her. She, too, panted for air, feeling the gloss of sweat now on her skin rather than rain. The storm was unabated, heavy drops hitting the roof above them in a furious pattern. He lay down next to her on the sackcloth and pulled his mourning jacket to cover her, and for a while, they rested.
Chapter 7
She did not catch pneumonia. They were forced to stay the night in the barn while the rain passed over, fiercely and unabatedly hammering the old barn until dawn. The straw kept their small loft insulated from the worst of the cold, and so when they awoke, their shared body heat had been enough to keep them well.
They dressed in clothing that was still somewhat damp, feeling the displeasure of wet cotton and muslin against the skin, and rode swiftly to the Spencer house. There Lady Margaret was full of concern, ordering them both to baths of hot water heated on the stove. For a temporary measure Elizabeth borrowed a gown from the late Lady Spencer’s collection – kept for alterations that they might fit her daughter one day – and waited for her gown to dry out fully.
The rest of the week was spent in preparation. Richard was not a poor man, and they had provision enough to make things comfortable. New dresses were ordered, food for the hall, and fresh flowers to brighten their home. Richard purchased a special license for their wedding so that they did not have to wait for the Banns, and then – seven days after leaving the home of her parents – they were wed.
Their marriage was a passionate one. The romance of their first entanglement was enough to drive many more such meetings after they were wed, and in all things, Elizabeth found that Richard was perhaps the best suited partner she could have wished to make. Between them they could raise Lady Margaret all the better, and that was indeed very important if she was to marry well. So high were their spirits that it was not a full year after their wedding that Elizabeth, sweating in her bed, gave him a daughter.
At last, Lord Shelley could not withstand the passions of his wife any longer. He relented to see the child, and with full explanation and the further passage of time, the Shelleys and Spencers were once again able to see eye to eye on a great many things – particularly the love of Elizabeth, which drove both Richard and her parents to a swifter agreement, for her sake.
*** THE END ***
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Book Nineteen
Back to Contents
HERO OF BATTLE
By Sarah Styler
Chapter 1
General Anderson looked up from his diary as there was a light tap on the door. He felt a little irritated by the knock. It was eight in the evening and he had been looking forward to some quite time all on his own. The day had been a long and tiring one with all the troubling events in the army camp since early morning and the General felt his nerves getting a little frayed. He had expected everyone to be back in their huts by now, warming their bodies by the fire. General Anderson put down his diary and felt for his pistol under the pillow. One could never be too sure in those parts. Then he called out, “Come in please!”
“May I come in sir?” Sergeant Walters poked his head in through the small opening.
“Ah…Sergeant, I must say I wasn’t expecting you at this time of the night. Do close the door behind you!”
“Thank you General,” the man said as he entered the small room. He stood there respectfully and waited for his senior to give him the command.
“Oh do sit down,” the General said and pushed a chair towards him. “Like a drink? It’s frightening cold out there, I must say!”
“It sure is! Never imagined that the winter could get so terrible in these parts, did we?”
“Well I guess you just have to be prepared even for the unexpected when you are in such a hell of a place like this!” the General remarked as both of them shared a laugh.
General Gerald Anderson and Sergeant Johan Walters were both part of the US Army. They were presently posted in Afghanistan as part of the US military’s efforts to control extremist activity in the country and flush out the terrorists who were proving to be a major threat to all around the world. The winter season had set in early and before anyone could realize, bitterly cold winds from the Arctic poles were sweeping across the land and even bringing in snowfall to the country. This night was no different.
“So what was it that you wanted to see me about at this time of the night?” the General asked Sergeant Walters. “Anything serious the matter, is it?”
“Umm…no not really! It was just…sir…have you given any consideration to my request for a leave next month?” he asked.
The General laughed. “You are speaking as if you were asking me to review my wife’s death certificate! Speak up son, there’s nothing to be afraid. And to answer your question, yes I have gone through it. You can take your vacation next month!”
“Thank you General,” the Sergeant said.
“Is that all?”
“Yes!”
“Good! Did you check on the two who got injured in the morning? I missed them during my evening rounds.”
“Yes sir I did, both of them are recovering nicely!”
“Nice! Just one afterthought, what have you done to beef up security for the night?”
“We have standard security measures in place sir,” the Sergeant said. “All guard posts will be manned by a couple of soldiers and there will be constant patrolling of the grounds. There is a forecast for a light blizzard later in the night and I’m afraid if that happens, the men will find it a little difficult. In any case I have asked them not to lower their guards.”
Earlier in the day, there had been a sudden attack on the US Army camp by rebel Afghan militants. A minor battle had broken out between the two sides and the rebels had all been shot dead. However, the Americans had faced injuries themselves with two of the soldiers being admitted to the camp hospital with serious injuries. These were the people General Anderson had been referring to.
“Good, good, I am glad to hear that! If there is nothing more to say Sergeant, you can take your leave,” the senior army officer said.
Sergeant Johan Walters stood up from his chair and gave a salute to the General. Then he turned around and respectfully marched out of the place. Outside, it had started to snow very lightly once again. A soldier walked past as part of the night patrol.
Johan took a quick glance around at the security arrangements in place. Everyone seemed to be manning their respective positions and it did not seem as if there was much for the soldiers to worry about. However, just like the General had just said you always had to be prepared for the unexpected while in Afghanistan.
Apart from the patrolling soldiers, there was no one else in sight. All the others were inside their respective camps and warming themselves by the fire. Johan started walking towards his own camp. He smiled at himself at the thought of going home the next month. There was after all no place like home!
Chapter 2
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your in-flight attendant speaking,” a sweet female voice brought Johan out of his sleep. “We will be reaching the John F Kennedy International Airport in another ten minutes. I would request you to…,” and she went on rattling a number of instructions on all that needed to be done in preparation for the landing.
He looked out of the window and out on to the grey cloud cover the plane was tr
aveling through. He waited in anticipation to catch a glimpse of the Manhattan skyline as the first sightings of the country loomed over the horizon. “New York!” he thought. “What sweet memories, what pleasant moments. God, I just can’t wait to be back in there!”
Johan Walters had been a resident of this thriving metropolis all his life. In fact, the Walters family had been settled in the city for three generations and was one of the well-known people in the locality. His father, Steve Walters was a famous businessman in the country and they were pretty rich. Johan had been born with the proverbial golden spoon in his mouth but life had not been too kind to the young boy.
John’s father would often have to stay away on long business trips and driven by this constant loneliness, his mother had taken to having extra-marital affairs. She had never loved her son and would always leave him down to neglect. “I wanted a daughter but you were not able to give me one. I will never love that boy who will grow up to be just like you,” she would tell her husband every time he confronted her on her negligent ways.
Very soon, the not-so-little matter of the extramarital affair was out in the open when Steve caught his wife in bed with another man one evening. Being the gentleman that he was, he did not make a big hue and cry of it all but granted divorce to his wife without a second thought. It turned out to be a win-win situation for all involved apart from a young six-year-old Johan who ended up suffering the most because of this split. His father never married again and he was forced to grow up pretty much all on his own without the love of a mother that all children so cherish.
Before long, Johan was in college. He had grown up into a very handsome young man. He was tall and had an extremely athletic build with muscular arms and physique. He would keep his jet black hair perpetually back-brushed and having been in the company of his sophisticated father all along, possessed highly refined tastes. Combined with the fact that he was from a renowned, rich background Johan was the ideal attractive young man with deep pockets that the teenage girls in college would swoon over. As someone who had craved for a good deal of attention in his childhood but had been deprived of it all along, Johan Walters enjoyed being in the spotlight.
A light rumbling near his feet indicated that the plane had touched down in New York and brought the soldier out of his musings. He looked out at the dull, grey city. There was a cloud cover hanging around and had drowned the place in a pale shadow that made the otherwise colorful and bright city look melancholic.
Johan walked out of the airport terminal and took a cab home. Along the way, they passed New York Metropolitan University, a place that had given him great memories in his life and had also been the cause for considerable amount of heartburn.
He was still a freshman in college but was already ruling over the hearts of almost every girl in his batch. Studies and career had taken a backseat for him in life and every single day of his existence was ruled by drinks and parties. Johan would go around college flashing expensive belongings and show up in brand new sports cars. However, his father was totally unaware of the expensive lifestyle and messy habits his son had started to develop for the man was too busy away on his business trips and barely had time for his son. Things came to the fore when one early morning Johan crashed his Lamborghini while returning home from a party. The cops had found him in an inebriated state and had locked him up. A close business associate of his father had come to know about the developments and bailed him out. Steve Walters had given his son a real big piece of his mind upon returning home a couple of days later and had pulled him out of college, suspecting that the young man had been picking up all his ‘nasty’ habits from there.
Though Johan did not have much interest in studies, he was an exceptional athlete. He had made a name for himself in the University basketball team and was in the reckoning for a spot in the sprint team as well. However, the untimely end to his academic career put paid to his hopes of making it big as a sportsman. He was very diligent and obedient towards the words of his father and did not have the guts to confront him. Nevertheless, his father was worried about the direction his son’s career was going in. After much debate and consideration, Steve finally decided that Johan would be a good match in the US Army. So when the next bulletin was out regarding the recruitment of young soldiers, he enrolled his son. Steve Walters had been a proud man the day his son officially joined the army as a trainee, much to the chagrin of young Johan who did not fancy the strict life for himself.
It was not long before the young recruit started enjoying himself in the new strict environs of the US Army. Many of the supervising seniors considered him to be a natural fit and were pretty amazed at the rapid rate of development that he showed. Johan progressed through the ranks faster than most would have expected and at the tender age of twenty-two, was already working on his first major assignment in Mexico as a private.
Today, the man was almost thirty and held the rank of Sergeant with a number of men under his commandment, fighting against rebels and insurgents in the rocky terrains of Afghanistan. It had been almost two years since he had last visited his Motherland and the feeling inside him when Johan caught sight of his home was one that could not be put in words.
Chapter 3
Steve Walters looked up when he saw a cab pull up in front of the house. A man got down and stood there for a few seconds before starting to pull out a number of bags from the trunk. He was a little surprised for the man was not used to getting visitors. He put down the potted Bonsai he was tending to in his front yard and walked towards the main gate. The stranger had paid the cab driver who was pulling away with his vehicle, and was now preparing to enter the premises.
“Excuse me! May I help you?” Steve asked the man. He may have grown fifty-nine years old but there was a steely toughness about him.
“Oh sure, I could really do with some help here!” the man replied with a glee in his voice. “Boy, these bags are heavy.”
“Who are you? And why would you want me to help you with your bags?”
The man looked at him with a crestfallen expression on his face. “Eh? What are you talking about?”
“You heard me!” Steve almost growled.
“Dad! Can you quit fooling around now?” Johan asked, removing the dark shades he was wearing. “I told you I would be coming home today, remember?”
“Golly, no wonder you looked all too familiar!” his father said with a mix of embarrassment and surprise in his voice. “Of course I do remember, but…anyhow, forget it now! Come and give your old man a hug,” he said and embraced his son.
“I guess this is what happens when you don’t come home for almost two years,” Johan said and the two of them had a good laugh about the incident.
Steve helped his son move in to his room with all thebags and cases that he had brought along. It had been twenty one months since he had last held his son in his arms and it was a pretty amazing feeling for him to have Johan back in the house. The old man had given up his business dealings for quite some time now, unable to deal with the stress of the long-haul tours he often had to make to meet with prospective clients. Besides, his son had also insisted upon him staying at home and looking after his weakening health. “You have done your bit to support the family. I guess it is time for me to take up the reigns,” he had informed his father.
Instead, Steve had found a new hobby – gardening. There large property did not have a dearth of green open space and he had turned the front yard into his own private garden. In his spare time Steve would tend to the plants here and cherish their fulfilling presence in an otherwise empty life.
“Dinner will be ready in an hour,” he announced to his son who was busy unpacking his belongings. “Freshen up and come down, we can talk at the table.”
“Sure thing dad,” Johan remarked as he walked off towards the washroom with his towel and a fresh set of clothes to change into.
Soon he was with his father in their downstairs kitchen, enjoying a hearty meal of pork sausage
s, fresh salad, and cheese and smoked salmon sandwiches.
Steve Walters watched on as his son attacked the simple meal that he had prepared with gusto. From his behavior, he could well make out that the young man had not had a decent meal during his time in the war-torn country. “Life must be hard in Afghanistan right now?” he asked.
“Ummphh!” Johan gave a grunt in reply as he munched on a piece of celery.
“It’s quite evident the way you are eating!” his father said with a laugh. “Have some more, you really have lost a good deal of weight in all this time that you have been away.”
“Thank you dad!” the young soldier said as he helped himself to another sandwich and serving of pork sausages. “How have you been? And how is your gardening going?”
“I have been just the way you last saw me, son,” Steve replied. “As for the gardening, a marigold plant died last month in the frost and has been replaced with another marigold plant. That’s about all the update I have. I guess there is a lot for me to hear about you and your life in the East.”
“Hmm…”
“Have you planned about what you are going to do on your vacation? I take it your friends know of your visit and won’t be letting you sit around at home all day!”
“Yeah dad it will be the usual thing with the guys you know! Party hard, enjoy harder. And maybe get lucky with some chicks for a few nights.” Johan and Steve had a very friendly relation between them and Walters Junior was never scared to indulge in such loose talk with his father.
“May the Almighty be with you son!” his father said and made a blessing gesture towards him.
The father-son duo had a long conversation at the dinner table and before they knew it, the clock had struck ten. “Gosh, it’s night already! How time flies eh Johan?” Steve said. “I bet you are tired and would like to turn in for the day. Good night then, see you in the morning.”
