"Demons?" His face tightened. "I don’t know about allowing that, Beulah."
Soft lips made a moue of disgust. "Demons are not the way to go--ever. They are treacherous and lead to hell everlasting. No, the assistance will be from friendly sources. Nature, if you will. Sources that dwell side by side with us--or far away." She looked thoughtful for a moment, then shook her head. "Anyway, you must be ready to help in any situation, at anytime. Anywhere. No matter how scared you are, how angry. Never be swayed by what you will see and hear. Be strong. What seems harsh will be for the best later. Do you understand me?"
"I think so."
"Sinya, you must be sure. If you don’t--"
"I don’t understand a lot of what you say I will see and feel, but I know I’ll do anything for my little brother. I’ll do whatever you tell me."
"You have faith in me?"
In her eyes he saw nothing but calmness and candor. The skin of her hands were warm against his. Warm, capable hands. And he knew without a doubt that he could trust her. "Yes."
~ * ~
Wes wandered along in the white with no thought or vision. He felt nothing, no sadness, no fear, no gut-churning agony. It was pleasant or would be, if he could feel even that. But he didn’t want to feel anything. Here he had control...or did he? Never mind, it was of no consequence now. Here he was safe, in the whiteness where no one could touch him with either thought or emotions. There was no demand on his weary body and overburdened senses. In the white safeness he could be... nothing. Just a floating soul in the warm haven of oblivion. Wes never wanted to leave this sanctuary.
~ * ~
"Where is she?" Hortra roared at his head guard. "Belya, bring her to me!"
Furious, he waited while Belya snapped out orders and sent four of the guards out of the room. Slouched in the huge chair, he leaned his head back against the backrest and contemplated the grey sky through the window opposite.
Curse the girl, must she forever be defying me? If she but followed my instructions, there would be no need of this continued arguing!
Belya stood quietly by the door, his face as inscrutable as ever. Silently he waited, then they heard the footsteps approaching, a lighter tread amongst the heavy tramp of boots.
"She is here, Lord," he announced unnecessarily.
"Yes, yes." Hortra waved his had impatiently, his gaze fastened on the door.
The four guards entered, but his eyes sought out one person only. The child walked in the middle of the guards, guided by their presence. As always, a dark glass shield was strapped across her eyes.
"Sister, you displease me yet again," Hortra growled, pushing himself upright.
Thin shoulders hunching slightly, she bowed her head.
"If you would but work with me, do as I tell you--"
"I can’t." Her voice was high and wavering.
"Curse you!" He strode forward angrily, stopping before her to grasp her chin in a cruel hand and force her head up. "Aria, you little bitch, you will do as I order!"
"Please, Lord--"
"No! No more pleas, Aria! From now on, you will do as you are bidden!" Wrenching her chin up higher, he glared down into the darkened shields. "You are cursed, Aria! Cursed! Only I stand between you and death at the hands of those who would fear you, if they knew you existed."
She trembled in his grasp, wincing at the discomfort of his hold.
"Who is your Lord?"
"You," she whispered.
"Me! And it’s I you will obey! When I call for you, you will come running, no questions asked. You will take off that shield and--"
"No!" Aria balked, trying to pull away. "No, I can’t!"
"Can and will!" Raising his hand, he dealt her a savage blow to the side of the face, sending her cannoning into one of the guards.
Without a flicker of expression on his face, the guard side-stepped, letting her fall to the floor.
"Take her back to her rooms," Hortra ordered Belya. "When I call for her, bring her to me. If she doesn’t come, then whip her."
"Yes, Lord." Belya nodded to one of the guards.
Disgusted, Hortra watched the guard pull Aria to her feet. She stumbled as they left the room, but not a drop of pity filled him. Traitorous little bitch! I’ll break her spirit. I need her power, and I will have it. With her power alone, I can crush nations, and I will do it!
Spinning on his heel, he stalked over to the window to gaze out over his kingdom. Craggy rocks rose up into the grey sky, their ragged edges echoing the harsh, dead landscape around the fortress. Lightning flickered through the sky, and a rumble of thunder could be heard in the distance.
The weather reflected his mood.
~ * ~
In the large dining cabin, Sinya faced his crew. For the first time in years, he really looked at them. Fifteen pirates dressed in billowing shirts of all colors and tight pants tucked into knee-high boots with the tops folded down. Some were scruffy, others neat. Several were portly, some lean, some muscular. All were hard-eyed and dangerous looking and he knew that in the case of most of them, looks could be deceiving. Not that they couldn’t be dangerous when they needed to be, but he’d seen their softer sides, mostly when dealing with Wes, whom they all regarded as a younger brother. Their overprotectiveness was almost as much as his own.
"We could be here for some time. Probably will be, in fact." He looked at them.
They all nodded.
"It could be days, weeks, maybe even a couple of months."
They all shrugged.
"No ale, no wenches, no fights."
This got him a reaction. Eyes widened all around the cabin.
"No wenches?" Drake queried.
"No ale?" Ephim asked.
"No fights?" Ralfis stared.
"Correct. It could get quite boring, in fact, which is why I’ve come to a very hard decision."
"This doesn’t sound good," Franc said mournfully.
Sinya sighed. "It wasn’t easy. You’ve all been loyal to me and so I feel that in this you all must have a choice. You can choose to stay here or leave."
"Leave?" A fat pirate dropped the mug of una back onto the table. "You want us to leave?"
"I don’t want it, but it’s your decision to make."
"Listen here, Sinya," Drake said. "Lay it on the line." His eyes widened suddenly. "Has the witch put a spell on you?" He started to stamp both feet.
"Spit on the floor and I’ll rub your nose in it!" Franc threatened.
Drake stopped, giving him a glare.
"Now, lad, what’s going on in that head of yours?" Stroking his grey beard, Ephim scrutinized his young captain.
Sinya leaned his hip against the corner of the table. "I haven’t explained myself very well, have I? And no, Drake, Beulah hasn’t put a spell on me. To put it simply, Wes could be here a long time and she needs me to assist in his recovery--"
"He’s going to be cured?" Ralfis’s face lit up.
"Sort of. Apparently he’s an empathic, feeling others’ emotions, but he’s more powerful, going so far as to exhibit the signs of their pain. According to the witch-woman, if he can’t control it, this power of his will destroy him."
"Shooting stars of Cyran," the fat pirate said.
"Ditto, Beli." Ephim worriedly rubbed one hand through his shaggy, pepper-colored hair. "He could die, then?"
"Yes," Sinya replied bleakly. "But I won’t have it. I’ll give my life for him before I allow that, which is why I must stay here with him. Beulah is his only hope and I intend to give my all to see him learn this control."
The pirates all nodded.
"We’re right behind you with this, Sinya," Ralfis assured him, "But I don’t get the letting us go part."
"It’s simple, really. I don’t know how long this will take, and I don’t think it’s fair to expect you all to stay here and wait."
The pirates looked at each other before transferring their gazes to Ephim.
Clearing his throat, he puffed out his barrel-ch
est indignantly. "So you expect us to just leave you and Wes?"
"I didn’t actually mean to give that impression--"
"To just walk away? Abandon you? Never look back?"
"Well, no. I thought you might return later--"
"Later? Hell, no!"
"He’s getting his dander up now," Franc sighed.
Several pirates laughed aloud.
Ignoring them, Ephim walked up to Sinya and poked him in the chest. "Let me tell you something, lad. We helped rear that boy and we aim to see him right. Correct, you band of sorry cut-throats?"
"Hell, yes," Beli agreed, and heads nodded all around the cabin.
"And we’ll be here to see that this witch-woman does right by you and Wes. Correct, lads?"
"Correct," Drake echoed, stamped both feet and spat. "That for the witch-woman!"
Franc rolled his eyes.
Seeing the agreement in every face of his pirates, a lump rose in Sinya’s throat. He swallowed it down before managing to say, "I appreciate this, I really do. Your loyalty goes beyond the call of duty and I’ll never forget it. Nor will Wes when he awakens."
"Ought to be ashamed for even thinking such a thing," Ephim continued, now on a roll. "After all you’ve done for each of us? Thinking we’d desert you now in your hour of need--"
"Someone shut him up!" groaned Ralfis.
"I think it’s lovely." A skinny pirate smiled dreamily. "Reminds me of my dear old mother."
Ephim ignored him. Slapping his hand atop Sinya’s shoulder, he finished, "Come hell or high water, we’re with you all the way. Right, lads?"
"Right," Franc agreed.
"Besides," Beli added. "The nearest tavern is only thirty miles away. We can get wenches aplenty there."
"Does your crotch rule your head?" Franc snapped.
"Now and again. But it doesn’t stop my loyalty," he returned, offended. "If Sinya needs us here the whole time, I’m more than happy to stay."
Sinya grinned. "I appreciate it, I really do, but I think Beli has a point."
"That’d be a first," Drake muttered.
"Seriously. If you’re all going to be staying here with me, then I think you need some time off to help alleviate the boredom. Feel free to go to the settlement whenever any of you want to. But just watch for peacekeepers. Remember, this planet is on the outskirts of the Outlaw Sector, not in it. When taking the ship, ensure you hide it from view. That’s all I ask."
"None of us is wanted for anything," Ralfis said. "Or at least, we haven’t been individually identified."
"True. Or not that we know of. Still, it’s open season on pirates. Bounty hunters and peacekeepers alike will attack if they know who we are. At least don’t dress like pirates when you go into the settlements. Agreed?"
The pirates all nodded.
"So," Ephim said. "How is the lad?"
The smile left Sinya’s face. "Still unconscious."
"Oh."
"I’d better go back." He straightened. "Is there enough food on board for us all?"
"Heaps. We’ll be fine, don’t worry."
"I’ll let you know what’s happening with Wes. You can visit him if you like, I’m sure Beulah wouldn’t mind. I’ll ask her."
"She’s a witch. Probably already knows," Drake said sourly.
"She does," a voice whispered in his ear.
"Who said that?" he demanded.
"What?" Franc asked.
"That she already does. Someone said it in my ear!"
"Hard to do, considering no one is near you," Ralfis pointed out. "You’re hearing things."
Scratching his head, he glanced around him. "Maybe I am. This witch business is unnatural."
"You’re bloody unnatural, you superstitious lack-wit," Franc snapped.
"Who’re you calling a lack-wit, you skinny ramp pole?"
"I’m looking at the lack-wit that spits on the floor!"
The pirates howled with laughter.
Sinya left them to it.
Leaving the ship, he glanced around, surprised by how peaceful he actually found it here. The sun shone brightly upon the land, bathing everything in its warm glow. Glancing towards the river, he spotted Beulah walking down the path to the bank, a wooden bucket in her hand. Obviously she was getting some water--which was strange, considering she had a tap in the hut.
Curious, he followed her.
Drawing close, he heard her humming softly. When he drew level, she didn’t seemed surprised to see him.
"So, your pirates are staying."
"How did you know?"
"I have my ways." She cast a sidelong glance at him. "They’re very loyal to you."
"They are."
"Like a family."
He turned his head to study her frankly. "You know this, yet haven’t met them all."
She merely smiled, keeping her face forward.
She had a nice profile, he thought with surprise. A small, straight nose instead of the hooked one he’d expect of a witch. No thin lips, the exact opposite, in fact. Full and pink and--he stumbled.
"Watch out," she said calmly. "Sometimes the bumps in the path make themselves known."
"Bumps?" He glanced over his shoulder, puzzled. "There are none on this path."
"Oh. It must be magic, then."
He heard the laughter in her voice but before he could retort, they came to the bank and Beulah squatted down, dipping the bucket into the chilly depths.
Kneeling beside her, Sinya reached out for the handle. "Allow me."
"There’s no need."
"Yes there is. While we are here, we can do the heavy chores for you."
"Very well." She relinquished the handle. "I won’t argue."
A cool breeze brushed unexpectedly across his face and he glanced up, expecting to see the tree tops moving gently. They remained still and as quickly as it had started, the breeze vanished. Lowering his gaze to the river, he started to pull the bucket up, but froze at the reflection in the water.
Three
A face shimmered within the rippling depths, eyes that danced darkly, full lips that laughed silently. A young face, girlish, full of spirit and the joy of youth. Beautiful. He straightened abruptly, looking over his shoulder, expecting to see the young girl behind him. There was no one.
Beulah pushed upright and stepped back. "Are you all right?"
"I thought I saw someone." Sinya shook his head and peered once more into the water, but only his reflection stared back at him.
"There’s no one in there."
"I know, I just..." He glanced back towards the hut then around them. Finally, he shrugged and stood upright, holding the brimming bucket in one hand. "Never mind. Maybe I’m tired."
"Or something," was whispered in his ear.
"What?"
Beulah frowned, saying nothing.
"Did you hear something?" Sinya queried.
"Maybe. What was it?"
"A voice. I think."
"You think?"
Sinya scratched his head. "Does someone else live here with you?"
"Not someone."
A breeze curled around his neck, making the hairs stand upright. "This place is actually quite eerie, isn’t it?"
He could have sworn something chuckled in his ear but wasn’t certain.
"Only when it has to be." Beulah snapped her fingers sharply. "But not now."
Instantly the breeze vanished.
Relieved, he started to walk away from the river.
"In a hurry?" she asked dryly.
Realizing he was outdistancing her, he slowed down. "Sorry."
"No need to be."
They continued up the path for several minutes in silence before he broke the silence again. "It must get lonely out here."
"No."
"Never?"
"There’s always something to keep me busy."
He looked around, wondering what she found to keep her occupied. Perhaps an elderly woman didn’t need much. Not that she was elderly. His
first impression had been such but now he knew she wasn’t. How old was she? He glanced sideways again. No lines on her face, ancient eyes, and white hair. Long hair in a bun. Several wisps had come loose and drifted across a slender shoulder. She seemed ageless. Part of being a witch?
"If you’re curious about something, ask," she stated pleasantly.
"I’m sorry. It was rude to stare."
"You’re sorry about a lot of things, but not this."
How could she know that? He wasn’t sorry for staring, it was true. He was curious about her. But he was afraid that if he questioned too much, she’d refuse to help Wes. He might cause a rift to come between the witch and himself, which was silly because how could he have formed a bond with a wench he hardly knew?
"You must get a headache with all those thoughts going around in your head."
"Are you sure you don’t read minds?"
"It’s plain to see that you’re thinking hard. If you have a question, ask."
He took a deep breath.
"I won’t refuse to help Wes. He’s my responsibility now and I won’t fail him, come what may."
"I was just wondering... you’re a mystery."
"Aren’t all women?"
"Not all women are witches. You, in fact, are the first I’ve met."
"Really? And here I thought you traveled around a fair bit."
"I do, but I’ve not met your kind before."
"And what is my kind?"
"A witch." How had they ended up coming full circle without an answer?
"I’m glad that’s cleared up." She grinned.
"I’m not so sure it is."
Beulah said nothing, her step light and carefree. A little bouncy, actually. Sinya had the oddest feeling about her, as though he wasn’t really seeing the true person. Or was--but just glimpses. By the suns of Coxyn, even without the witch’s cryptic conversation, he was getting confused!
"She does that to everyone," a voice whispered in his ear.
Sinya jumped, water sloshing from the bucket to land on the path, where it disappeared with astonishing speed. Whipping around, he stared about him but no one was in sight.
"Problem?" Beulah asked calmly.
"I’m hearing voices. Are you sure there’s no one else here?"
"Do you see anyone else?"
"Well, no, but--"
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