“That was hilarious,” Visola said with a grin. “Stabbed twice by the same enemy! We should name the whole battle after that. ‘The Shoulder Skirmish.’ Or perhaps ‘Shoulder Scuffle’ sounds better. “
“Wonderful. I shall be mocked for this mistake for the rest of my breathing life,” Aazuria said. She lifted a hand to absentmindedly prod the bandages around her wound. Talking about it seemed to make it hurt more.
“Adding insult to injury is my sister’s specialty,” Sionna said. “We’re here.” She turned into a corridor and threw another set of double doors open.
An unexpected sight greeted them. Callder was bare-chested, with bandages wrapping much of his chest and midsection, while two nurses fawned over him. One had her lips attached to his, while the other sat in his lap with her dress hiked up around her waist.
“For Sedna’s sake!” Sionna shouted, throwing her hands into the air. “Both of you! Who authorized coitus with the patients? You’re both fired!”
The nurses immediately ripped themselves away from Callder and arranged their clothing before facing Sionna shamefully.
“Please, Doctor Ramaris… he is just a lonely war hero…”
Sionna extended an incredulous finger towards Callder. “Him? A war hero? Is that what he’s been telling you?”
The other nurse turned to Aazuria, curtseying deeply. “My dear Princess!” she pleaded, knowing that Aazuria had a reputation for being far more merciful than the Ramaris twins. “Take pity on us! He was so charming…”
“No. There are dozens of war victims in need of assistance,” Aazuria said evenly. She did not raise her voice, but it was laced with authority. “This is no time for dallying. You both will go at once to aid the other nurses. Once the volume of patients is reduced, your employment here is terminated.”
“Yes, Princess,” they both said softly.
“And your employment with me begins,” Visola added with a gleeful nod. “You both have been recruited to Adlivun’s military. Yay! Now get back to work.”
The two nurses scurried from the room, their heads lowered in embarrassment. Aazuria felt a small pang of remorse for them—there were hardly any men in Adlivun, thanks to the destructive impact of her father’s long reign as king. She observed Callder’s state of undress and she had to conceal a smirk. She found him as handsome as his older brother, but decidedly more coarse and jagged around the edges; both men were almost impossible to resist.
“Now why’d you all have to go and do that?” Callder complained, pointing at his bandages with a pout. “Can’t you see I’m in need of some serious sexual healin’? Those ladies were just…” Callder trailed off when he saw his fourth visitor. He slowly raised himself from where he was seated. He took several shaky steps forward, with his hand clutching his bandaged chest. “Big brother?”
Trevain felt tears prick the back of his eyes. He shook his head and cleared his throat gruffly. He did not know what to say. It was true; the Coast Guard had been wrong. The death certificate needed to be ripped up into tiny shreds and cheerfully trampled. His little brother was really alive and well. Very well. He looked at Callder affectionately, trying to think of the appropriate greeting for this situation. He uttered the first three tender words which came to mind.
“You whoring buffoon!”
Callder crossed the room as quickly as he could, and ignoring his injury, he seized his brother in a manly embrace. “I’m so sorry, Trevain. I should have listened to you. I’m so sorry.”
Trevain hugged him back strongly, needing to feel that he was really made of flesh and blood. “You fool,” he said, trying to fight back his tears. “Callder, you foolish… fool!”
“I love you too,” Callder said earnestly. He winced, but did not complain that Trevain’s arms were crushing his still-healing ribs.
Sionna and Visola exchanged small smiles with each other. Aazuria looked at them, and she could see that they both were thrilled about the newest additions to their family. Although the Ramaris twins were tough on the exterior, they were the most loving siblings that she knew underneath their crass manner. She turned back to the embracing men, and felt emotion brim up inside of her. It seemed that the bond between Ramaris siblings had stayed strong throughout the generations, even though the Murphy brothers had a different name and overseas upbringing. How uncanny it was that the relationship between Trevain and Callder was so similar to that between Visola and Sionna, even though they had not grown up around them to be influenced. Nature is powerful, Aazuria thought to herself. Nurture is important in determining the path we take, but nature is what defines us, and defines exactly how we will traverse that path…
“Where’s mom?” Trevain asked Callder. “I thought she’d be here with you.”
“She’s sleeping in the hot springs,” Callder said, gesturing to the pool. He punched Trevain in the arm and grinned. “Hey, did you know we can breathe underwater? How cool is that? And all this time you had mom locked up because you thought she was crazy…”
“Callder, my boat exploded.”
“What?” Callder frowned. “How? Well, that’s no big deal, right? You have insurance.”
Trevain closed his eyes.
“Hey, what’s wrong big brother?” Callder hit him again playfully. “We’ll just get a new boat with a better name than the stupid Fishin’ Magician. You know what would be epic? Let’s call it The Master Baiter.”
A burst of laughter shot out of Visola’s throat. Aazuria bit her lip to conceal the giggle that was threatening to erupt; she knew that this was no time for laughter. Sionna’s eyes had widened. “Whoa. This is unbelievable; he has Viso’s sense of humor. It skipped a generation.”
Trevain opened his eyes. “Callder, the boat exploded with the whole crew aboard.”
“No.” Callder’s face darkened. He took a step back from his brother, and looked him squarely in the eyes. “No. No! You’d better not be saying what I think you’re saying. Were you on the boat when it happened? Is… is everyone okay?”
Trevain shook his head. His fists clenched and unclenched. “Only Brynne survived.”
“Thank God!” Callder said, throwing his head back in relief. He exhaled a huge gush of wind. Then he realized how callous his words sounded and he cleared his throat. “I mean… that’s horrible. It really is horrible, but I am just so, so glad Brynne is okay…”
“Leander. Arnav. Doughlas. Edwin. Ujarak. The Wade brothers.” Trevain slowly listed the names between breaths, gritting his teeth. “They’re all gone.”
Callder shook his head, swallowing. “I guess we’re way past decimation now, huh? I wonder if Arnav would say we’ve been obliterated or annihilated. Which one would be more correct?”
“Neither,” Visola said firmly. “You are alive, young man. You were pitted against a mighty enemy, and you survived. You joined with us, your mother’s people, and what you are is victorious. We have succeeded in defending ourselves, despite suffering losses—the first wave of the Clan of Zalcan has fallen.”
Callder was carefully observing the woman who had spoken. Captivated by the gorgeous redhead, he cleared his throat and tried to put on his best charming smile. “Victorious, huh? Well, I can assure you of one thing, you beautiful sex goddess. Although I may have been harpooned like the wild animal that I am, every part of my body is still fully functioning. I’m just as virile as ever—and I can take you (and your lovely sister if she’s interested) to heights of pleasure you’ve never imagined! So if you’re looking to do a little celebratin’ of this great victory…”
Both of Visola’s eyebrows lifted in amusement. Aazuria placed a hand on her bandaged shoulder, looking around a bit awkwardly. Sionna screwed up her face and made a gagging noise.
“Callder…” Trevain said with a sigh, placing a palm against his forehead. “You’re not going to believe this, but that woman you’re shamelessly trying to get into bed with is actually our grandmother.”
“What?” Callder erupted in laughter. “Y
eah, ‘cause I have a grandma who’s younger than I am with the juiciest pair of tits and tightest little ass…”
A small grey-haired and wrinkled woman had just shakily raised herself out of the hot spring in time to hear her son speak these words. She immediately wanted to sink back down and bury her face in the sand. “Ugh,” Alcyone said, cringing in horror. “Callder, that’s disgusting! That’s my mother you’re speaking to. Mama, please forgive him, he doesn’t know. Apologize this instant, Callder!”
“Are you kidding?” Callder saw that the expression on Alcyone’s wrinkled face was humorless. He looked from his mother to his brother in disbelief and confusion. “You’re both joking… how is it possible?”
“It’s okay, kid,” said Visola winking at Callder. She approached him and lightly slapped him on the bottom. “I’d rather be called ‘sex goddess’ than ‘grandma’ any day. I’m way more accustomed to it. I didn’t even know I was a grandmother until a few days ago, but I’ve known I was a sex goddess for a few centuries.”
“Mama!” Alcyone complained in a dismayed whine. “Stop flirting with my son!”
“Sorry, Alcie. He started it.” Visola looked at Callder curiously before poking his cheek. “Hey, I like this one. He’s got spunk. A bit slouchy though…”
“What? I have no clue what the hell is going on here,” Callder admitted blankly, “but I do gather that I’ve done something wrong, which is a familiar and comforting feeling.”
“Straighten yourself!” Visola commanded in her General-voice. Callder found himself following her command without really intending to. Visola walked around Callder slowly, sizing him up. “I’m going to train both of you boys to be warriors in the Ramaris tradition. Callder will shadow Elandria’s personal guard once she is healed.”
“Warrior? Sounds like fun,” Callder said. “I know how to use a sword—mom signed me and Trevain up for fencing lessons when we were little.”
“Aw, really?” Visola asked her daughter. “That’s so smart of you, baby.” Although Alcyone looked like an elderly woman, Visola still spoke to her as though she was younger—which she was.
“He’s always had a passion for it,” Alcyone explained. “He is quite skilled and relaxed with a sword in his hand.”
“It’s because I’ve had so much practice,” Callder joked.
“Okay, Callder. You’re going to have to cool it with the masturbation jokes,” Trevain cautioned in a fatherly tone of voice. “You’re in the presence of a princess.”
Callder turned to the white haired woman who had remained rather quiet throughout the conversation. He studied her face, and thought that she looked vaguely familiar. “That’s right, those pretty nurses called you ‘Princess’ and begged you for mercy. Mom explained to me that this was a different type of place with an old-fashioned monarchy. I just want you to know how awesome I think it is that you’re powerful and stuff. People respect you.” He approached her, taking her hand and kissing it while bowing. “You’re also ravishingly lovely, Miss Princess of Adlivun—are you single?”
Aazuria smiled. “I am engaged to your brother.”
“What?” Callder exclaimed. “Oh, snap! Trevain is boinking a princess!”
“Boinking?” Alcyone shrieked, pointing a wrinkled finger at her son. “Callder! Show some respect.”
Sionna had brought a hand up to her neck in horror. “Good Sedna, preserve me. He speaks exactly like Visola. I may be forced to slice my own head off if I must listen to more blasphemous vocabulary.”
A deep blush had come to Aazuria’s cheeks, but she kept smiling. Trevain had been studying this exchange angrily—he did not like the way his brother held Aazuria’s hand a little too long. He also felt a pang of jealousy at the amused look on his fiancée’s face. She was normally so stern and impassive, but when it came to his brother’s antics she always became too lenient and forgiving.
“When did this happen?” Callder asked eagerly. “Jeez, how long was I unconscious? Tell me everything! How did you two meet?”
“I should thank you for that, Callder,” she responded warmly. “It was you who introduced me to Trevain. I am Aazuria Vellamo—do you not remember me?”
“No way,” he said, stumbling backwards. “The… the stripper? Undina? But… that’s impossible. You don’t look anything like her. She had black hair and dark eyes… but your face! Yes, your face is exactly the same. You’re Undina. You were a princess going incognito?”
“I chose the stage name Undina because it was my mother’s name,” Aazuria said softly. “She was the descendant of a Celtic warrior clan.”
“Wow.” Callder’s brow furrowed as he turned to his brother. “If this is true, Trevain, then you owe me big time for making you talk to her. Imagine that I hadn’t forced you to get off your lazy, antisocial ass and talk to the pretty girl? You would have been miserable and alone forever. Say it. Say that I’m your hero!”
When Trevain frowned and his lips parted to protest, Visola jumped in. “No way! It was all my idea,” she said with a grin. “I needed money for weapons and I chose to work in that bar. Who knew that a little strip club in Soldotna would reunite long lost relatives? Regardless, I should get the credit for this.”
“I give all my gratitude to Princess Aazuria,” Alcyone said softly, dipping into a solemn curtsy. “Zuri killed her own father to make Adlivun safe for us. She freed me from my white-walled prison and brought me back to my family and my best friend. While Callder was unconscious I had a chance to catch up with Corallyn, and it just reduced me to tears. I hadn’t spoken to her in sixty years, but it was like not a single day had passed. This is where I belong. This is where I need to be.”
“Corallyn?” Callder asked. “Aazuria’s little kid sister who wasn’t even a pre-teen? I’m so confused. Mom spent all of yesterday just explaining to me where we are and why I woke up underwater. It took her hours to convince me that I wasn’t dreaming or dead. This is a lot of information to take in all at once.”
Trevain put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Vikings, Samurai, and Celts. I know it seems outrageous, but let’s just go with it.”
“My boys need to learn sign language so they can communicate with us in the water,” Alcyone said.
“We’ll assign them private tutors,” Sionna said. “They’ll be fine.”
Visola nodded. “I hate to have to leave my two favorite new grandsons,” she said, “but I have an important meeting at the palace. Are you coming, Aazuria?”
“Of course. We have serious matters at hand, and thousands of bodies to dispose of.”
Chapter 3: Napoleon of the Undersea
“…And he implied that in exchange for his help getting those guns off the black market, he wanted me to sleep with him,” Visola said, taking a long swig of the warm sake, “so I did.”
“No!” Queen Amabie gasped. “Earnestly, Visola?”
“Why would I lie to you? You’re my hero,” Visola said. She exhaled ecstatically. “I just can’t believe that in all the mayhem of battle you managed to remember to bring my drink!”
Aazuria had left the war council seven beverages ago. Once the conversation had gone from concerning the good of the nation to drunkenly catching up on the gossip of the last fifty years, she had excused herself to see to other affairs. She knew that her general had a special fondness for Queen Amabie, and she thought that the two women should have some alone time.
“What are allies for, good friend? Besides, you know I only brought my army to help defend your nation because I wanted a rematch. I need to prove that I can win against you in a drinking competition. You have wiped the floor with me in days of yore, but it shall not happen again, General.”
“My power is constant like the waves,” Visola boasted with a smirk.
Amabie frowned and leaned forward keenly. “Truly, Visola. How could you sell yourself like that? Is it not difficult for a weapons master to do such a thing? You are so connected to your body.”
“Why would be di
fficult for me?” Visola asked, with a halfhearted smile “Over the years I have come to see my body as little more than a weapon. An inadequate one at that! If I can sell the temporary access to one inadequate weapon and use the proceeds to purchase ownership of more effective weapons which will protect the lives of innocent people and their innocent bodies, then I think that’s a great deal.”
“Your logic is as flawless as your firearms are mighty.” Queen Amabie studied her friend’s face carefully. “This is about Vachlan, is it not? Everything you do has always been about him, Visola.”
Visola suddenly found the floor very fascinating. Her fingers played nervously with the unicorn trident attached to her hip. After several seconds of silence, she reached for her sake, and doused her throat with it. The warmth of the drink was comforting. It even inspired a creative response.
“If what you mean by that is I went to extra, possibly unnecessary measures because I thought he might be the one attacking us, then you are correct. He might have sent a first wave led by that crazy woman, Atargatis, but he almost certainly knew she would fail. He was behind this all along—he sells his loyalties to the highest bidder, and now he is Zalcan’s little bitch. Shouldn’t even a mercenary have morals? That’s the textbook definition of a whore!”
“Calm down, Visola…”
“I do all I have ever done for Adlivun, for Aazuria, and my daughter. I would do anything to stop him! Anything; whatever it took to defeat him. I would do much worse than anything I have ever done. So, yes. It’s all about Vachlan”
“That is not what I mean, dear,” Amabie said kindly. “I am not speaking to the warrior in you. I am speaking to the woman.”
“Then you are speaking to no one at all.” Visola looked up at her friend with vacant eyes. “Not much of that remains.”
“I saw her yesterday,” Amabie said, reaching out to stroke her friend’s wild red hair. “You knew that we were supposed to have a formal, public execution for the leader of the enemy forces. It is hallowed tradition, the formal drowning in blood. Yet all Atargatis had to do was mention that she had slept with your husband, and you threw a knife into her eye. Do you not think that was a tiny bit impatient of you, Visola?”
Fathoms of Forgiveness (Sacred Breath, Book 2) Page 2
