A ceremony of loss and celebration of the lives of the fallen males of Clara's sphere was conducted and it offered a sense of finality to the kingdom. The people of the sphere moved forward. Sarah began teaching again, resisting the charms of Clarence and Philip. There were many available females for Philip that had made their interest known but he had eyes only for Sarah. Clara thought her behavior most wicked.
Clara and Sarah walked the sphere-tunnel together as they did each day, the sentry guard accustomed to their daily exercise. Clara had never before felt restless in her sphere. But after the journey to the sea, she was never still.
She walked with her hands clasped behind her, head dipped, her hair partially swept to the crown of her head.
“It is not that I do not like Philip,” Sarah explained and a small smile turned the corners of Clara's mouth up. Sarah laughed and struck Clara lightly on her arm.
Clara laughed from her belly. “Yes, I can see that liking him is not the problem. Not at all!”
Sarah's face reddened. Her fair hair was severely pulled back into a teacher's bun. No matter how she fought it some of the blonde hairs escaped, floating about her face, framing the blush that covered her cheekbones.
“He is Band. I do not know that I wish to be wed with Band. A clan-dweller may be equitable,” she shrugged.
Clara's smile faded. Technically, she herself was Band.
Sarah realized her words too late. She stopped and turned Clara, hands on her arms. “I am sorry. I do not mean offense to you. They are just too...” her eyes wandered to Outside, “wild. Unfinished, unpredictable.”
Clara continued walking and Sarah followed. “We must take chances, Sarah. We cannot let fear and ignorance rule our hearts. What is your greatest fear?”
Sarah's face scrunched, her nose bunching in an appealing way. “Being held amongst the fragment.” She shivered with the memory.
“Are we anything like Rowenna?” Clara asked suddenly.
A vision of Rowenna rose in the memory of Sarah's mind, straddling a steed of pure white, her golden hair streaming behind her, a weapon of death in her hand on her approach.
Sarah shook her head. “She is female, but she is also...”
“Fierce,” Clara supplied.
“Yes,” Sarah agreed.
“So you would agree that it is protection that you most desire?”
Sarah thought about it for a long moment then slowly nodded. But she preempted Clara's next comment, “Someone like Clarence would protect me, provide for my needs.”
“ 'Tis true. Clarence is a man of worth.”
Sarah's eyes met hers.
“There is not a male which can compare with those of savage blood, if protection is what you seek. Care-taking your heart's desire? I think it is under your pretty nose.”
Sarah smiled grudgingly. “You are one that should not talk of such. Three males seek your hand. That is two too many, Clara.”
Clara sighed. It was a sore subject, there was no doubt. “You know why it is the complication it has become. The people...”
“Argh!” Sarah said. “The people want what you want, Clara. Stop worrying over their perceptions. Except Charles.” She wrinkled her nose in distaste.
Clara had not spoken to Charles in nigh a month. They steadfastly avoided each other when she made her rounds in the fields, when she walked. If he saw her, he turned the other way without so much as a greeting. It saddened her.
Sarah watched her face. “He will come around. And if he does not, it matters nothing. He is cross because he assumed too much.”
Clara looked at her and Sarah laughed. “He thought after Prince Frederic was dispatched that you and he would develop a romantic relationship. When the Rite of the Select occurred and it was clear that he was not part of your future...” she shrugged.
Evelyn bounded up from behind and flung herself between them, effectively closing the conversation. Clara was relieved to see that each day her face smoothed out and healed from the abuse inflicted by the fragment. The cuts were but scabs now and purple bruises had faded to yellow.
She blossomed into womanhood before their eyes, having turned ten and four just days after returning to the sphere. Every young male of the sphere and several of the clan had noticed she was no longer a girl but a young woman.
Maddoc was not amused at this development. He was not old enough to school his emotions and glowered when the males were about, drawn to Evelyn like bees to honey. As Sarah did with Philip, Evelyn resisted his attentions. She claimed she should seek the company of her own clan first. After all, that is where she hailed from. Clara thought it was foolish. Maddoc had saved her twice. He was obviously smitten. Could she not see this?
Could she be as heart-blind as Clara was?
“I seek the company of a male tonight!” she squealed.
Please, let it be Maddoc, Clara thought.
“Who now?” Sarah asked and Evelyn pushed out her lip.
“I do not frolic about!” Evelyn said, offended.
Clara and Sarah groaned.
She did very much frolic.
Evelyn looked at their expressions and huffed. “Well then, not a great deal.”
They stared at her.
“Oh! Alright...mayhap a trifle.”
Sarah crossed her arms as the small group made their way to the rest stop near the doors of brass.
“Who is the scoundrel?” Clara asked as she sat upon the long bench which lined the wall of the sphere.
“It is Jonathan,” she said smugly.
Clara remembered him. “The wee boy who took care of the horses for the Band?”
“Wee no longer,” Evelyn enthused.
Dear Guardian, Clara thought.
As if conjured in mid-air, Clara made out a group of men charging down the tunnel toward them.
Clara stood, their posture alarming her.
Sarah stayed seated upon the bench. “Sit Clara. Nothing is afoot. We have a million males in the sphere and ten of the Band. All is well,” she said in a bored voice.
“Yes, Clara,” Evelyn said in droll agreement.
Clara kept standing, she had a keen sense of danger and her intuition had been flagged.
It was then that Clara heard a pop and sizzle. She looked to her left and above.
The portal had opened, two strange men falling out. They did not land awkwardly, as her party had, but with expertise.
They had used the Pathway before.
Clara's head took in their otherness and she whipped her head to where the Band sprinted toward them. They were too far away.
Clara said, “Run to the Band. Now!”
Clara turned, not before noticing they held an apparatus in their hands, its sleekness and ebony color giving hint to the metal it was.
They appeared to be weapons.
“Which one is the Key?” one of the men asked the other.
“The redhead! Shoot her!” Clara heard a pop and something pierced the flesh of her back as she ran. She tried to keep up with the women but landed on her knees, the pads of her hands taking the force of her fall. She began to crawl away.
Clara could feel the lethargy seeping through her body and looked up, her face searching for the Band in a panic.
Matthew's body filled her vision, he was close enough to touch when she heard one of the men behind him.
“Shoot him, Gary! He'll kill us.”
More pops fired and two large needles pierced Matthew's large chest then Maddoc's and finally Edwin and Daniel were hit.
The males fell like mighty trees, their weapons splayed like broken leaves around them.
“Which one is her mate?” The one named Gary asked.
“Don't know. That's one of the things we're not here to botch up.”
Evelyn came forward and surprised the other man, biting his arm. He pushed her back and she fell on her backside. She moved to get up again and he leveled the black metal weapon at her chest and fired. The small arrow sunk into her chest
and she yelped, giving him an angry look, struggling to get to her feet again.
Daniel grabbed the other man's ankle, wrenching him forward. “Hit 'em again, Joe.”
Joe turned and sunk another needle into Daniel. Clara watched as Daniel struggled to keep his eyes open. “Clara... I... I am sor...” his eyes closed and he lay on the dirt floor of the sphere-tunnel.
Sarah ran and dropped beside Clara, brushing her hair back, she looked to the two men. “I do not know who you be, but you must leave. She is our Queen, you have no right,” Sarah said, shaking in abject fury.
“Nail her too.”
Gary did.
Clara watched as the needle hit Sarah in the shoulder, high and beside her collarbone. Tears struggled down her face as she slowly fell on her side, falling asleep as the others.
The Band lay all around her. Matthew crawled to her side, two needles dancing from his chest as he moved.
“I thought you said it would put them under?” Joe asked in disgust.
He nodded his head. “It should put an elephant under. But these men are Band. They have engineered genetics. You understand even now we don't understand all they're capable of.” He leveled the weapon at Matthew and he raised a palm to deflect it. Instead the needle bit into his palm.
Matthew laid his head down beside Clara, his pillow the curtain of her hair. She gazed back at him, her eyes blinking.
“I cannot move my body,” she said to no one in particular as Matthew's eyes fluttered closed as she watched.
*
Clara watched them as they came to her. The one with the weapon knelt beside her. His eyes met Joe's. “How long do we have?”
Joe looked at his wrist where numbers were illuminated beneath his skin. “Maybe five minutes, tops. Get the sample quickly. We've already disturbed the Continuum enough.”
Clara watched the one called Gary withdraw a small, paddle-shaped device where a small beacon of green light beat like a heart at its tip. He began to pass it back and forth, starting at her head and working down until he reached her feet. He made one more pass, depressing his thumb at its base. The light flickered off and he put it inside his strange garment with many pockets.
Tears rolled out of Clara's eyes as she spoke, “You are the Travelers.”
They looked at her. Then Gary reached into his other pocket and extracted a tiny disc which had squat needles covering one side in its entirety.
He ignored her question. Saying instead, “This is going to hurt.”
Joe held her arm in position while Gary pierced her flesh with the disc and turned it a quarter rotation.
Clara screamed. It was as if a mouth with razor blades had been set upon her skin and turned like a barb that once withdrawn, tore the flesh from the bone.
Joe gritted his teeth. “I hate this part.”
“You need to get past the fact she's a woman. She is the Key. Keep that in mind, Pal.”
“You keep it in mind. You're not the one looking into her eyes, asshole.”
Gary met his eyes. “Steady, we're almost done then she can go back to her life. You know, the one she lives so that we can in the future. You feel me.”
Joe glared at him. “I do. But look at her.”
Clara looked into his eyes and let every emotion at this violation stand there naked. She was rewarded by his eyes flinching in response.
She noticed how green they were.
“She seems so young...” he lifted his hand to touch her face.
“Don't. Don't get attached. We're never seeing her again. She's not young for this time.” Gary looked in another pocket, throwing a package to Joe who deftly caught it midair.
“I am scared. I cannot move,” Clara said. Her vulnerability caused a terrible pain in her chest.
Joe flicked his eyes to hers, tearing a strange metallic package apart with his teeth as he pressed his fingers into the crook of her elbow. He blew the scrap away and pushed an opaque gel-like substance out of the top with his fingers. He smeared it on the wound that the disc had left as he handed the offensive thing over to Gary. He flipped his wrist over, as he depressed his fingers against her flesh. He seemed to be counting. Numbers appeared, sequentially getting higher by the moment.
“She's too low. We need to give her something.”
“No, she's part Band, they don't have a heart-rate within our norms. She'll be fine. You put the salve on her, let's get out of here. The Band will wake shortly. They metabolize the juice quicker than humans.”
Clara rolled her eyes to the Band which lay all around. She watched as their bodies began to twitch. Already they wakened from the vileness that had breached their defenses.
Clara noticed that she could move her fingers and toes.
The men surveyed the Band. “Time to go.”
They stood, Joe gently folded Clara's arm across her stomach, his face regretful but determined.
They moved under the Pathway's mouth, a horse length above them and unbuttoned the strange tunics they wore. Clara watched as a light pulsed beneath the skin of their breastbone and they were slowly drawn toward the opening.
Joe's eyes met hers.
Clara whispered her rage, “You are stewards of nothing.”
His jaw clenched and he looked away, Gary's face turned to the mouth of the portal, their bodies being absorbed as if gulped. Then they were gone.
A burst of light pulsed then disappeared, the Pathway along with it.
*
Clara lay upon the dirt of the tunnel floor as the Band gathered around her.
“Can you move?” Evelyn asked and Clara gave her a withering look.
“I would be upon my feet if I could,” Clara said and watched Evelyn's lip quiver.
“Forgive me, Dear Heart. I know that you were frightened. I was as well.” Clara had actually never been more terrified in all her years.
“A better idea is moving to the body of the sphere. These Travelers obviously have advanced weaponry,” Edwin said.
“Their weapons cause the twilight sleep,” Sarah said.
“Not to all,” Matthew said, gathering Clara into his arms. She hung limply in the cradle of his embrace but with an effort was able to put her arm between her body and his chest. It felt so wonderful to be off the ground.
“Are you certain you should carry Clara having just rid yourself of the after effects of …?” Maddoc began.
Matthew looked at him. “I would not carry her if I was unable.”
Evelyn smiled smugly at Maddoc and he glowered at her. His eyes traveled to the small wounds where the needles had punctured Evelyn's skin. His eyes flicked to hers and her face grew warm under his scrutiny.
“Does it hurt?” he asked Evelyn and Clara smiled.
“Do your wounds hurt you?” she countered.
“No,” he said in a dismissive huff.
“It is the same for me,” she said as she shrugged her small shoulder.
“But you are female and therefore more fragile...” he began as if my rote.
“Argh! It matters not. Flesh is flesh. You...!” Evelyn stomped away.
Maddoc looked after her. “Is it so untoward that I inquire over a wound she suffered when males with ill intent raid your sphere, Clara?”
Clara rolled her eyes to his. “I think not. However,” Clara watched as Evelyn marched away toward the sphere, “she is an independent female and likes to feel as if she can defend herself.”
“She cannot!” Maddoc fumed. “She needs one of the Band to protect her, obviously,” he swung his palm after her departing figure. “She is most fragile, even for a female.”
“I do not know, my brother,” Matthew said, the deep rumble of his chest vibrating against Clara's body in a pleasant way. “She seemed to do very well against the intruders. One wears the marks of her teeth even now.”
Sarah smiled and they began to their make way after Evelyn.
They walked in silence for a time then Clara asked, “How was it that you were alerted?”
If it had been the Traveler’s intent to take her, they could have. But they did not. Still, they could not have anticipated the Band being in attendance. Yet, they had the weapons which paralyzed and caused sleep.
“It was fortuitous that they possessed those non-lethal weapons,” Edwin surmised thoughtfully. “They are an enemy that strikes when we least expect it.”
“They are not the Guardians of legend; not the people that saved us from peril. Rather, they were self-serving, caring only for what they may need. That they tamper with this time line says much,” Clara said against Matthew's chest. Finally they arrived at the point where the sentry guarded, his eyes widening as he saw the ragged group.
“Queen Clara, have you been injured?”
“I am fine,” Clara responded as Matthew stood her upon her feet.
She immediately collapsed as her legs were still numb beneath her, Matthew catching her easily.
“Let me get the remainder of the Guard,” the sentry said with real apprehension. The entire Royal Guard were new, Clarence the only one from the old who lived.
She shook her head, embarrassed. “Do not. I have a tale to tell and I will do it after I am my rightful self once again.”
Matthew brought her to her chamber, with Edwin and Daniel as escorts. They were met by a disapproving Olive.
“What has happened?” She launched into a scolding tirade and Clara insisted they lay her down and she would explain all.
The three men bid her goodbye, each face a mirror of the other.
Clara closed her eyes against the emotions so plainly held in them.
The SAVAGE Series, Books 1-3: The Pearl Savage, The Savage Blood and The Savage Principle Page 54
