by S L Dearing
"What have you done with my sister?"
Sara smiled and looked at Sam.
“This is your doing, isn’t it?”
Sam kept smiling and shrugged. Coeli made a stupid face at the end of the table and everyone laughed. Sam looked at Coeli and at that moment he knew he wasn't leaving Lia Fail anytime soon.
35
Sean and Alia had spent breakfast going over their plans for the day. Sean had detailed the events of the morning and that he was still waiting for Todd and Quinn to return with an update about Rona.
"I don't like that you let her stay on with the healers, Al. She's manipulative. I don't trust her."
"You never have."
"True. You know, I used to make it my life's work to know the difference between an ally and an adversary and she's not an ally, that's for sure."
"You think I'm naïve, don't you?"
"No, I think you have an amazing heart. I think you want to see the best in people and that's admirable, but some people just aren't good… no matter how good you are to them."
Alia reached over and took Sean's hand, which made his stomach leap. He took hers in turn.
"And some are. I trust you, my closest friends and a few advisors. I also trust that you and your soldiers are here to protect me."
Sean nodded as she continued.
"I'm not sure what to make of all of this, but for now, she's out of power. We have no proof of anything other than negligence, besides, the first rule of war, keep your friends close and your enemies closer."
Sean raised his eyebrows and smiled, and then he looked at her hand, so long and slender. He noticed she now wore her wedding ring on her right hand. He put his thumb and index finger to it and turned it around as he looked at it. Then he looked at Alia, who smiled and shrugged.
"I did it a few months ago. It was time. I’m not married anymore, you know."
Sean nodded and smiled.
"Yeah, I know."
"Look, right now I'm more concerned with all these strange things that are going on. There have been times in my past I thought I had seen magic, but in the last few weeks, I know I've seen it."
"Yeah, last night was the first time I can unequivocally say that I've seen magic happen. What other things are you talking about?"
"A few weeks ago I was casting. Nothing big, just a meditation spell, but as I was chanting, the flowers on the balcony of my room, which were on the verge of dead by the way, those flowers were coming back to life, full bloom, straight up and beautiful, straight out of E.T. They're still alive and bigger. And then a few days ago..."
Sean raised his brow.
"What?"
"Well, I'm not sure about this, but I think there's something in the woods."
"Like what?"
"Something that looks like a horse, but I don't think it is a horse."
"What like a zebra from the old zoo?"
Alia laughed and took her hand back as she started to pick up the dishes.
"No, I don't know. I just thought I saw something that's all. I'm sure whatever it is isn't dangerous."
Sean leaned back in the chair and watched her with a puzzled look on his face, then stood up.
"All the same, I think I should take some men out there and check it out."
Alia shook her head and turned around.
"No, you don't need to do that."
Sean crossed his arms and stood in front of her before she could leave. She stopped and looked at him.
"What?"
"You're telling me you saw something strange in the trees outside this village and in spite of what happened last night, you expect me to believe whatever it is isn't dangerous?"
"Yes, I do. Please don't go out to the woods, not yet. Promise me, Sean, promise me."
Sean sighed and put his hands on his hips, looking down at the floor. He knew he should go, but then he felt her fingers on his chin, lifting his gaze to her own. Her gold eyes shined as he found himself nodding.
"Thank you."
"I'm gonna regret this, I know it."
"No, you won't. Besides, we'll be busy enough making sure that everyone here is protected from whatever those things are. Elena thinks we should make talismans for everyone here, but I'm not sure everyone would wear them."
"I wear mine."
Sean pulled a pendant from inside his shirt. Alia smiled and took it in her hands.
"I made this for you right after you pulled the girls out of the river. I didn't know you still wore it."
"Almost never take it off actually, but now I do have to soak it salt water, Miss Touchy Feely."
Alia laughed as Sean got up and put water in a cup and poured salt into it. Sean then laid the pendant in the cup and sat down. Alia sat down with him.
"Sorry, I depleted your energy."
"That's ok, I'm recharging as we speak."
"I guess we'll have to address what happened to Scott last night with the dignitaries."
"I've already had my men deliver requests to meet with them this afternoon."
"Good, I have to get ready for my petitioners and then I want to see Janeen and Vivian. Oh yeah, have we heard from Salt Lake II?"
“Yeah, they radioed last night to tell us that the group had left and they were expected at St. Viviana’s this morning and they should get here tomorrow. We tried the KMC, but no answer. Might be some kind of weather interference or something. We’ll try again later.”
Alia nodded and stood up. Sean got up as Alia turned to leave, but after a few steps she came back and kissed Sean on the cheek.
"Thanks for breakfast."
"I didn't make it."
Alia smiled.
"Whatever," she said. "See you later."
Alia left the room and started up the stairs. Gloria, the head cook, started to wash the dishes, but Sean stepped up and took the washrag from her.
Gloria shrugged and moved to the kitchen door, lit a cigarette and watched Sean wash. He looked over at her and she smiled and inhaled.
"I want one of those when I'm done," he said.
Gloria nodded and patted her breast pocket.
Amanda Stark was sitting on the steps of the main castle entrance watching the petitioners line up to seek an audience with her mother. Sean had finished the dishes and was taking a last drag on his cigarette when he walked out the door and looked over at the mass of people gathering and then down at the little girl.
Every morning, anyone who had a dispute would line up outside the throne room and petition for an audience with the queen by telling their story to one of Vivian's assistants. They would determine which issues were of the most importance and give them numbers. They would then go before Alia and she would render judgment. The whole event lasted about an hour to two hours every morning.
Amanda had her knees pulled up to her chin and was resting her head on her hands. He flicked the butt away, walked down several steps and then sat down next to Amanda.
"What are you doin', Little Girl?"
Amanda turned her face towards him and squinted up at him.
"Being bored."
She then turned back to watch the people, as Sean smiled.
"Why are you bored?"
"They all left me here and mom says I can't go off by myself."
"‘They’ being your brothers and sisters?"
"Yup."
"Even Lisa and Brandon?"
“They went to the library, I think.”
Sean nodded and looked over at the people. He turned his head when he heard the door open behind them and saw Helen in the doorway. He lifted his hand and motioned to her to wait a moment, so she waited in the doorway.
"Well, did you want to come and hang out with me for a while?"
Amanda sat up and turned to look at Sean.
"You feel sorry for me, don’t you?”
Sean smiled and shook his head.
"No, Ma'am. Just thought I might get to spend some time with you, but if you'd rather stay here…"
> Sean started to get up, but Amanda jumped at him and smiled.
"No, I don't want to stay, I was just checking."
Sean laughed and swept her into his arms as he walked down the steps.
“You wanna help check the barracks?”
Amanda nodded and smiled.
“Yeah, can I blow the whistle?”
“We’ll see.”
Helen smiled as she watched them walk off, and then closed the door.
36
The desert morning was warm and dry as a slight wind blew through the valley. Normally a breeze was a welcome relief in this hot, arid region, but this draft brought an air of foreboding. It smelled of smoke and something sickly sweet. Bill Nyland tried not to sneeze. He rubbed his nose as he looked towards the west, then pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped his forehead where sweat had started to glisten. He had stopped to water his horse and had become separated from the rest of the party that was traveling to the Gathering.
They had been riding since the previous day and Bill knew that the party would have to stop at St. Viviana's. It wasn't far now. Bill was from Salt Lake II and all the people in his village, actually everyone he had ever met, had always referred to the Keepers of Holy Mother Church, St. Viviana's, as KMC. The older folks would always laugh and ask if anyone wanted original recipe, grilled or extra crispy.
Bill was eighteen and he was making this trip to prove himself a man to the only one that mattered, Alisha Stark. He had seen her several years ago at the Gathering at Salt Lake II. Every six months he would beg and plead with his father to go just so he might see her and speak to her. At the last Gathering he had even mustered up the courage to ask her to dance, even though one of the heathens from her village had scowled and watched them until their dance was over. He had tried to tell her then of his love, but the heathen had come over and cut in. This was the time to tell her and he was sure he could convince Alisha of the true path to the Heavenly Father so they could be married. After all, he would be going off on his mission soon. The sun rose ever higher and the heat became more intense as Bill came over the ridge.
There in the distance he saw the KMC and not far from the village was his wagon train. As Bill rode closer to the wagons, he noticed that they were stopped just outside the gates.
"Why would they be outside?" he wondered.
The closer he came to the wagons, the thicker the cloud of smoke and the rank fumes of sweetness grew, clogging his throat. He began to choke on it.
Bill dismounted his horse and walked towards the wagons, taking his horse’s reigns in his right hand he approached the last wagon and peered inside. It was empty. He then looked in the next wagon and then the next. They were all empty. He was surrounded by silence; the only sound he heard was his horse's hooves against the dirt and rock of the makeshift road. He stopped and tied his horse to the lead wagon. He patted the animal on the neck, as the steed began to step anxiously; Bill walked around the lead horses of the wagon, which he noticed were also nervous, snorting against the hot air. Dread began to seep in.
Bill gagged as he moved towards the corner of the village, where the fetid wind grew ever thicker. His nervousness quelled as he came around the corner and saw his traveling party standing in the main gate of St. Viviana's. He grabbed his heart in mock exasperation, relieved to see them all there. He put on his best game face and walked towards the crowd.
"Hello, what are we all doing…?”
His words trailed away as he saw several of the women in their party, including his mother and sister, crying and standing to the right of the gate, their faces pale and drawn. Several other women were holding their children to their breasts, trying to stop them from crying.
Bill looked over at the gate and walked towards the men, several of whom were also outside the gate, leaning against the wall. They were pale and white, gasping for air, which was sweet and smoky and now also laced with the scent of vomit. Confused and frightened, Bill moved to the gate and pushed his way into the compound. He felt several hands try to stop him, but he shoved them aside. Once inside the gate he stopped.
The first thing he noticed was the way the ground changed under his feet. He looked down expecting to see a puddle of water, but it wasn't water. It was red and thick. A pool of coagulated blood had encompassed his feet. He followed the trail of blood to its source and it was then he felt his stomach lurch. He couldn’t breathe. Gasping for air, dizzy, he staggered back and fell against the wall behind him. The horror before him was like nothing he had ever seen.
It was a massacre and the carnage was fanatical. There was blood everywhere. Body parts littered the ground like needles that had fallen from a pine. Some of the villagers had been impaled on giant spikes that rose randomly into the air; their bodies bloodied and suspended in the air like grotesque marionettes. The majority of the villagers were lying broken and battered, scattered about the compound.
A woman was lying on the ground, holding tightly to the lifeless body of her infant. The side of her head had been crushed and she had apparently fallen on her child, causing it to suffocate. Others had been beaten, stabbed, dismembered and tortured before they were killed. Smoke came from all of the windows and several mounds of what appeared to be bodies, now black and charred. Some of them had still been alive when the fire consumed them. Their lifeless charred arms and hands reaching for mercy and their eyes, white and open, pleading.
Bill tried desperately to breathe when he felt something sticky and wet between his fingers, which were still pressed against the wall. He pulled his hand forward and saw that it was covered with blood and hair. He slowly turned and again felt his stomach lurch. Hanging from a nail in the wall behind him was a young girl's head. The head lolled gently against the wall, attached by long brown hair as her lifeless dead eyes plead with Bill to help her. Bill could tell that she was no more than sixteen.
Bill grabbed the handkerchief from his back pocket and frantically wiped the blood from his hands. He started to back up and felt his foot slide back into the giant puddle of blood. His heart raced and his head spun. The horrible visions in front of him began to blur as his feet slipped through the rancid mud. It was only then, in that moment, he realized what that sweet smell was; it was the smell of death. He felt the stabbing in his gut and the spit in his mouth and he pushed though the group. Stumbling out the gate he moved through the crowd and stopped, leaning forward, almost falling in his daze.
A large man with thinning hair and gray eyes turned and saw Bill stumble. Edward Nyland reached for his son and held him as he began to retch.
Above the crowd, perched on the wall, a falcon watched.
37
Larry Hearst was sitting at the breakfast table watching his oldest son from across the room. The other dignitaries were also there, talking and eating. Aaron Levine leaned over in Larry’s line of sight and raised his eyebrows.
“You alright?” He asked.
Larry picked up his fork and started to eat again.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
Jeb was sitting on the other side of Larry and watched Scott as intently as Larry had been watching Sam.
Aaron sighed and leaned back.
“The two of you look like someone pissed on your Wheaties.”
Jeb and Larry smiled. Chelsea Hearst had walked over and was picking up a piece of sausage from her father’s plate.
“What are Wheaties?”
Her dad pulled her braid and she leaned in and he kissed her cheek.
“They were a kind of cereal from before the war. Go get your own plate.”
“I’m not hungry," she said as she grabbed another piece of sausage and ran over to the table where Hannah Turner sat.
Aaron laughed and shook his head.
“Things happen a lot faster now, don’t they?”
Jeb nodded and looked over at Henry, who was trying to convince a few girls that he would be the perfect date for that evening, and he smiled, as they appeared to be buyi
ng it.
“It’s hard," Jeb said.
Larry and Aaron looked at Jeb as he continued.
“I know I have to let him go, but after everything that’s happened in the last couple of days, I just want to hold on to him, make sure he’s safe. I know he’s a man, but he’s my little boy too.”
Larry reached over and gripped Jeb around the neck. He felt the same way about Sam.
“Well, it’s not like they would be moving to my neck of the woods or Salt Lake II. Just a half a day away, and you’d actually like your in-laws.” Aaron said.
Larry smiled.
“Yeah, I know. I knew it when I saw that look on his face. He’s done. Just like I was when I met his mother.”
Jeb shook his head.
“I didn’t even know Scott knew Sara. Now I see them together and, well…I guess I better let Beth know so it doesn’t come as a shock.”
Beth and Lilli had been watching their husbands. Beth threw a roll at Jeb’s head. He turned and looked at her with an eyebrow cocked. She pointed at her husband with a determined look on her face.
“All I care about is that my boy is alive and healthy and after what I saw this girl’s mom do last night, he can stay here forever.”
With that, Beth Forrester turned back around to continue a previous conversation with Ellen Turner, who was now laughing.
Jeb picked up the roll and looked at before he bit into it.
“Looks like I don’t have to do much. How many weddings to you think we’ll see at the end of this thing?”
Larry and Aaron smiled.
“I’m glad my oldest is only sixteen,” Aaron said.
“Coeli is sixteen,” Larry added.
“You’re not funny.”
The men laughed and talked as they watched the kids finish eating and walk out of the hall.
