Love and Betrayal
The lovers left the cave that day each with very different thoughts. Raissa glorying in the simple fantasy of family and a home. Carlos meanwhile earnestly seeking extradition from the noose of his own making. They parted with a gentle, final kiss, just as the sun dipped over the highest peak, sending the first long shadows forth into the center of the settlement. Carlos then stood for a long time watching Raissa's retreating back, absently stroking his black stubble, brow furrowed with care.
He had secreted the knife beneath a rock in the cave, no point risking being found with it now. He knew that he would have to plan any attack carefully with such a small blade. The margin for error was significant. However he also knew that if he did things right he could make the weapon count. Bennett was his biggest worry, while he lived on here and commanded, there would be no easy escape from this wretched place. Many had been the times he had made a break for it, and even though his navigation and bush skills were good, the men had still eventually run him down.
With their leader disposed of Carlos knew that the remainder of this feral horde would be too busy infighting for leadership amongst themselves to care where he was. He could then slip away, alone, into the resultant confusion that would undoubtedly ensue with Bennett's demise. Bennett would be at his most vulnerable when he returned, lust would get the better of him Carlos mused with distaste. That would lead to his undoing. Already the vision of the knife driven with such force into the brute neck, life's blood spurting with each beat of his tormentor's dying heart starkly materializing in his mind.
While he was thankful to Raissa and the risk she had undergone, there was no way on this earth that he would take her with him. She would hate him for that certainly, but there was no way that he could hope to traverse this desert with a woman in tow. She really did not appreciate the hardship or danger of what she wished to undertake, and stood a much better chance of survival if she stayed right here. Besides he was just a man alone, he had no security or wealth to offer. Somehow and soon he must tell her of his decision even if it meant that she despised him.
Also in his thoughts reigned confusion, as he reviewed the events of the afternoon. Part of him truly cherished her, adoring her gentleness, her naiveté, her ability to love and give of herself fully, an ability which he did not possess. Part of him though despised her, and suddenly he would find himself at once too severe and hurting her as they made love. It was as if this anger he directed at her was directed at all women, especially his mother who had treated him as one of little consequence. So with all these troubles to contemplate he watched the majestic sun slowly set, the long purple shadows fading finally into black. Until he could bear the evening's chill touch no further, to retreat to his disturbed guilt ridden thoughts, and bed.
Five full days had elapsed since they had begun their foray into the unknown south beyond, and things had gone satisfyingly well. Renard had bagged yet another boar, and the men were now engaged in gorging of its tasty, roasted flesh. Water had also been plentiful and safe, generally things boded well. Bennett finished his meal unhurriedly, as he observed the bloody sun's departure this night. Time to move soon he knew. The war party had covered vast tracts of ground at a swift pace, not sighting another living soul. The only traces of humanity were the charred remains of settlements, which they had previously lain waste, many weeks, and months before.
The intelligent leader had watched Renard closely, still he could detect nothing amiss with the man. Though always this uneasy feeling pervaded that Renard was somehow not all that he seemed. Bennett's hunches were rarely proven wrong and doubt ate at him constantly over this man. Sven's words of caution ever present in his mind.
He signaled to his men that it was indeed time to move out, and in all but a few moments they stood eager to depart. Weapons at the ready, hunger for the kill in their eyes. The terrain here to the south had changed markedly, with the flatter sandy dunes and open plains giving way to thicker scrub land, littered with rocky outcrops and treacherous, undulating ground. From here on in the going would get slower, as this was not at all the familiar territory that they had traveled before.
Renard was in the lead carefully scouting the land ahead, crossbow always at the ready, and his keen brown eyes meticulously surveying all. There was a real risk of ambush here, for the brush afforded plenty of cover, every shadow at any moment could reveal an enemy threat. He wished with all his heart that he could have been anywhere else but here right now, for unlike the others he had been to this place before, and knew with full certainty what lie just over the ridge beyond....
Not more than half a mile south the stronghold lay, its massive metal walls thrusting up blackly from the sands. He could picture it, still standing defiantly with its battlements well defended, bristling with soldiers and armaments. To attack would be certain suicide even with a hundred men, all this and more Renard already knew. None of this information he had confided to his leader however, Bennett would see it soon enough. It would be interesting to see what would happen then?
He was nervous now, sweating even in the cold which was fast enveloping all. If only he could engineer a situation where all these men were killed? Perhaps then he could slip away to the quiet valley of his home, forever more. Such traitorous ideas flooded Renard's thoughts, as he led the party in silence through the rocky landscape.
This stronghold had been known to him ever since the war. His Father fearing the warlord ensconced within, had initiated talks and trade. Still as far as Renard knew his father's farms paid tribute to this Lord, in return for protection and peace. A fragile peace at best as he had often argued with his father, regretting all that now. He just wished he was home.
Cresting the jagged rise, the men stopped in their tracks, triumph evident in their hungry eyes. Their leader had as always provided them what he had promised, and there below squatted the immense brooding compound; a new victory clearly in their sights.
They had been positioned in sight of the fortress for the best part of four days, remaining unseen and ever watchful. This would not be easy Bennett considered, as he fixed his intense pale gaze at the fortress looming beyond. Dark it stood monstrous, and forbidding. A wall of solid, riveted, metal, thrusting some twenty or so feet up from the earth. The only detectable breach in its defenses the massive portal of the entry gate. This too was well guarded, and more often then not the gate remained shut fast. He had watched, studying the vista below carefully, though as yet no chink in the fortress's armor had presented to him. The longer he watched the more obvious it became to Bennett that to mount a successful attack would be much harder than he had first surmised.
The men too had become more fractious and argumentative, as it became increasingly apparent that any attempt to attack would be futile. However Bennett ruled with an iron grip and maintained discipline in his force, but morale was another matter. This was a magnificent prize to be sure, but the usual methods his warriors employed would not work here. There must be another way and in time he was positive it would present itself.
At moments such as these Bennett's thoughts turned to the ever trusted Sven and hoped that all was well back home. Wishing that his most loyal aide was here beside him to give him useful advice. Many things were often clearer when the two of them could confer, Bennett at once deciding that tomorrow he would depart, leaving his men to watch covertly and learn all they could. Meanwhile he would return to camp to brief the others and seek Sven's council, before shortly returning with his full force.
He would take only Renard on the return trip. It was a bit of a risk but he was confident in Aran's ability to hold the men in check, besides Gareth would be there to back Aran up. There would be no trouble Bennett was quietly confident, and he would take this magnificent stronghold soon, just like he took everything else. He would not be denied. This he thought as he stared out at the fortress, the black wolf on the blood red banner fluttered defiantly in the breeze above its armored gates.
The hot days ran by each melding into a sea of sameness, as the repetitive rhythms of the valley played out below. During this quiet time in the war party's absence Carlos and Raissa met often in their new and special place. Although physically close, each unable to tell the other of their private thoughts and hopes.
It had been close to two weeks now since Raissa in good faith had given him the knife. Still there had been no escape plan forthcoming. She had waited patiently, sure that he would tell her what he would need her to do when at last the moment came. Instead nothing did he reveal to her. Every time they met, every session in the cave, Carlos seemed to take what it was he wanted, giving little. Often it was starkly apparent he cared naught for what she felt. Hurting her more than usual, his tenderness all but gone, now he seemed distant and estranged. Raissa suddenly finding herself, bereft and alone.
As she sat quietly next to Lucy engaged in the endless chore of grinding corn, listening to the breeze rustle the spent corn stalks that stood tall and dry nearby. The feeling clawed at her dark in its intent that she had indeed been cast aside by the man she loved. Deep down she was achingly sure that whatever Carlos was planning, it did not include her. Tears sprang to her eyes as she smarted with the thought, making her work difficult to see. Yes, she would go to him again later today this time resolving to at last confront him on the issue.
Warren meanwhile had made a good recovery, though he needed the help of crutches to get about. Father Andrew had kindly made him a pair, and Warren had found himself despite the older man's religious fervor, enjoying his company.
Lucy too had taken him under her wing, promptly installing him in her hut. The canvas shelter wasn't much but it was all she had and Warren was grateful for her kindness. As the warm days went by, and he began to feel much better, he found himself drifting into comfortable complacency. Settling easily into the routine of the camp, helping where he could, though in truth his contribution was meagre.
Today as on most days he sat near the women beneath the shade of a tarpaulin, swatting at the numerous clouds of black flies. Watching on as they made flour from the corn that Father Andrew had grown in his little plot. Perhaps the warriors had indeed forgotten him he wondered, and he would be able to go on here quite unnoticed. Maybe things would not be as bad as they had seemed, all those long terror stricken days ago.
Gingerly he stretched his leg, it still pained to do so, and walking was tiring and difficult. I hope this gets better soon came the little prayer, interrupted at once by the sight of Carlos striding purposely by. As usual he again appeared dark and troubled, not once acknowledging Warren's presence.
