Providence Ch 05

Bo – Hebrew; Strong and Fast

Devlin – Celtic/Gaelic; Brave, Fierce

Dominic – Latin; Belonging To God

Mabyn – Welsh; Ever Young

Miya – Japanese; Sacred House

Rylie – Celtic/Gaelic; Valiant

Part 5

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“How are you feeling?” Will asked softly, as he neared Isabel. She had been alone in the quiet living room gazing into the burning fire of the stoned hearth.

She turned towards his voice, her eyes sullen and red from tears. She held a sweater around her shoulders to fight off the chill that had settled into her bones since the night before. No matter how many cups of tea she drank, or how many warm baths she took, the cold just wouldn’t leave. Her muscles ached from her constant shivering. The sleep she had found previously only lasted for two short hours, and even then they were far from restful.

Her voice was hoarse and raspy from fatigue. “Like shit.”

He nodded with a slight, half smile on his face, knowing the feeling well. He had lain on his cot for some time, staring at the ceiling unable to find rest. Will had heard her get up and leave the room and after several long moments, finally deciding that she wasn’t going to return, he went in search of her.

He was sure that he looked as awful as she did, though he was careful to not let his opinion of her appearance show on his face. Despite the fact that she had declined his marriage proposal years before, they were and had remained uncharacteristically close. He wasn’t surprised when she said no, more disappointed. William had known that the King and Queen were expecting them to wed, and feeling compelled to fulfill their wish, he had proposed. But he couldn’t lie and say that he hadn’t also been relieved. It would have been incredibly awkward if they had actually gotten married. He did love her, but in a brotherly way. Not enough to marry her, not in the way she needed to be loved.

Isabel crossed the small living area and took a seat by the fireplace. The couch cushions were fluffy and comfortable, and she quickly found a small, but nonetheless fleeting, sense of relaxation in the warmth around her.

She had been telling the truth; she did feel like shit and she knew that she looked it too. She had caught her reflection in the bathroom mirror when she had finally found the strength to freshen up earlier. Her makeup was smeared and smudged along her face. Her royal tunic had been torn in several places, holding leaves and grass in the holes. Her hair was disheveled, strands of her silky golden hair torn from her up-do. She was unsure what had happened to the crown that she had worn at the Festival. More than likely it was forever lost in the forest.

Good riddance,

she thought.

One less thing to worry about.

If it were up to her she would never think of the palace or the Festival or her parents again. The heart-wrenching agony was becoming too unbearable. Isabel was strong, but not that strong.

But it seemed that she was a glutton for punishment, because no matter what she did, she could not get the memory or image of her parents’ deaths out of her exhausted mind. It haunted her.

Will watched her as her eyes unfocussed, and he sighed heavily knowing exactly what she was doing, what she was always doing. Over thinking. This situation was already wearisome and arduous. And to not think of the circumstances they found themselves in would be insane. But to over think the situation would prove just as foolish. The past was unchangeable. Will found no need in dwelling in what could not be altered. It was common sense to make peace, and move on.

But Isabel was different.

“Iz,” he said quietly, trying to break her from her silent, torturous reverie. When she made no move, he continued. “Isabel, stop.”

She gave him a sardonic look. “Stop what?” she said, asking for no particular answer.

“Stop acting like you can change it. It’s not going away. What happened happened. You need to move on.” His voice was quiet and soothing, but Isabel found little solace in his words.

She turned quickly in his direction, tears forming in the brim of her eyes. “William, my parents died not twenty-four hours ago. Give me a break.” She shook her head in disbelief and self-pity. If he didn’t stop this right now, she was going to loose it all over again, and she couldn’t let that happen.

“Maybe you should talk about it. You know? Let some of your … emotion out.” He was never good with sentiment or feelings, but desperate times definitely called for desperate measures.

She dismissed the offer quickly, waiving her hand in the air dismissively.

This isn’t going very well,

he thought. Will tried again. “You know, we’re going to have a hard couple of months ahead of us. Maybe even years.” He kept his voice soft, and what he hoped was soothing. “Maybe … maybe the sooner you let this go, the sooner you can move on.”

Her reaction was unspoken but nonetheless harsh. Her face told him in so many unspoken words that she found the idea ridiculous, and he forged ahead before she could yell at him, which was her tendency.

“I don’t mean you should forget, just … accept.”

“Semantics. It’s the same thing!”

“No, its not. Think about it. There’s nothing you can do…”

“I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear this!” she said, her voice bordering hysteria.

“Okay, okay,” he said quietly, trying to get her to lower her voice. He had never meant to upset her, especially now. He crossed the rug that separated them and sat next to her, slinging his arm over her shoulder in apology. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry.”

She nodded, not trusting her voice.

Silent moments passed until she spoke again. “Do you think they suffered Will? Do you … do you think that the pain was very bad?” Her voice was choked with emotion.

He turned to her and slightly faltered at her appearance. In that moment, she was not a Princess, or a daughter, or a sister, or a friend. She was a scared, helpless, desperate girl trying to come to terms with her parents’ gruesome death. Her eyes were round with grief and anticipation of his answer. Her lower lip trembled slightly.

He chose his words carefully.

“Iz …” He hesitated involuntarily, and took another moment. “No. No I don’t think they suffered.” Why distress her more? He would do anything to ease her heartache, and if this consolation did it, all the better.

Her brows furrowed. “Are you sure? You really mean that?”

“Yeah Iz. Everything was happening so fast, I really don’t think they even knew what was going on until it was over.”

“Thank you.”

He nodded.

“So … what are we going to do now?” It wasn’t a question of helplessness, but of hope. She knew that William would come up with a plan that would work in their favor. If she knew anything about him, she knew that he was smart and cunning. Any plan that he devised would save them, and Aevar, from any more pain.

“I talked to Alec and …” When he saw her unknowing look, “Alec is the guy … the protector.”

“Oh.”

He inwardly rolled his eyes. Even now, Isabel was still … Isabel. Unknowingly taking advantage of the little people.

“Anyway, I told him to have the other survivors meet us at the Moana dock. We’ll leave first thing.”

“Survivors?” she asked surprised.

“Yeah. There are eight other royal survivors. There were originally twenty or so, but … with their injuries, they …” She nodded, understanding. He didn’t want to bring up death, and she didn’t want to talk about death. So they each let the topic lie.

“You said we’re going to leave. What do you mean leave?”

“I mentioned this last night. I guess you didn’t hear.” When she shook her head in the negative, he continued, “We’re leaving Aevar.”

“William! How can you say that? We can’t just leave. Our people need us.”

He raked his hand through his hair in uncertainty. How on earth was he supposed to explain this to her, to make her understand?

“Isabel, we have to. Cyrus has attacked every major port, every base, the palace, the Festival…the list goes on. Thousands have died. It’s a miracle that we’re even alive. There are only eight other royal survivors. Eight, Isabel. We need to regroup, get supplies … heal.”

Especially heal,

he thought, and gave her a knowing look.

“I’m sure by now, many have already left the planet for safety. We have to contact our allies, and get an army together, a strategy. This is the time where we lick our wounds and rest and figure out what the hell we’re going to do next. This is no time to counterattack when we have absolutely no firepower. We can’t afford to be foolish. Cyrus is a smart man. Devious as hell, but smart. We have to be smarter. Getting off the planet is the only thing I can think of that he might not expect. For obvious reasons.”

She nodded. Cyrus certainly wouldn’t be expecting it. Aevarians were known to be kamikaze-like, ‘going down with the ship’ so to speak. Isabel had to sift through his entire soldier-second-in-command talk, but she agreed with what she could understand. They did need to regroup and ‘lick their wounds.’

What a disgusting analogy,

she thought.

“Yeah … I guess you’re right. When do we leave?”

“In a couple of hours. I told Alec to take the first watch. But when you left the bedroom, I relieved him. Him and Koen are sleeping now.”

“Will … are we going to make it through this? I mean, how are we going to get through this? This is Cyrus we’re talking about.”

“I know, I know. Listen, I’ve spent nearly my entire life studying attack patterns and reconnaissance. Isabel, this is what I have been training for since I was ten years old. We’ll be okay.”

She laid her head on his shoulder, and nodded in acceptance. Will always seemed to know what to say to make her feel better.

She had no idea that Will had very little faith in himself, and was at that moment praying that he wouldn’t have to break his promise.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He scanned the horizon, searching, waiting, anticipating the arrival of the others. It had been hours since they had last heard from Omega Beta, and his nerves were literally standing on end. If the protector was correct, and if nothing else had gone wrong since they last spoke, the royal family – or what still remained of it – was still alive.

Dominic’s eyes never stopped their search, skirting from left, to the right, to the forest, to the lake. Nothing.

He sighed and turned to the cave behind him where his companions were hiding. They had arrived about an hour ago, two hours early, and despite injury and illness, most were actually in rather high spirits. All wanted to see their Prince and Princess. Just their presence would offer a kind of solace that their hearts needed from the malevolence attack from Cyrus.

The previous night had been hard for him. He had not seen so much death and suffering since years before when he fought in the Miyan Wars. Aevar had aided the failing planet of Miya with soldiers, and he had fought bravely along side their long-time ally. And they had won.

But this … this was very different. The Miyan Wars were a time of bravery and honor and camaraderie. But what Cyrus did the other night … that was nothing short of spiteful, and unlawful, and hostile. There was no honor in what Cyrus had done. There was no honor in ordering your men to murder women and children, or spraying entire villages with chemical weapons, or unleashing pain and death unseen or unknown before.

Dominic entered the dark cave that sat just outside of the Moana port, waiting for the Omega Beta protector and his survivors to show. The other survivors of the three safehouses sat quietly, but looked at him expectantly waiting for his answer.

“Nothing yet,” he said softly, and they all turned they heads, staring off into the dark, waiting.

He sat roughly on the rocky floor, and picked at the pebbles that lined the cave.

He realized he needed to see them as much as his companions did. He needed to see William, Koen, and Isabel with his own eyes, confirming that they were really still alive. He needed to see them to prove that his greatest fears were indeed false. He had thought the worst when he had made it to the safehouse the night before, and heard about the attack on the Festival and the death of King Eamon and Queen Deva. He had thought them all dead.

He shook his head, warding off the painful memory of brief moments spent in agony. His friends’ deaths would have been too much for him to bear, and just remembering the few minutes spent in that knowledge was grievous.

He turned to take an inventory of the other survivors in the cave. Across from him sat a young man by the name of Bo, a soldier like himself. He had not fought with this man, but could tell that he was strong, and confident. To Bo’s right there were two other men, older but not elderly. Perhaps assistants of the royal family. If they were in this company, they were of royal regard.

He turned his head further to the left, aligning his gaze with a woman, a nurse. Since they had all arrived at the safehouse the night before, she had spent tireless hours attending to injuries. She had saved the life of one of the men across from her. He had had a severe laceration in his neck, and she had been able to stop the bleeding and repair the severed artery. The three soldiers had offered some help, having taken first aid training. But she had proven quite praiseworthy in her efforts. She was unable to save the lives of all the survivors the night before. But she had been able to ease their suffering some.

He stumbled over her name, sifting through his jumbled thoughts … Rylie. Her name was Rylie.

Closer to himself sat Devlin, the third of three soldiers. Dominic had served with Devlin before, although it had been many years ago. If they were lucky, working with William, they could form a plan and save Aevar. He could only hope …

Lastly the child. He had found her huddled underneath fallen rubble, clutching a doll tightly to her chest with her hands covering her ears from the screams and fighting. Upon hearing her crying, he had picked her up and carried her the several miles to the safehouse not bothering to question her of family. If the village they had been in was any indication, her family had died along with hundreds of others.

He leaned in closer to the girl, and spoke softly. “Mabyn. Are you okay?”

The girl turned her head, and her hair hung in her face shielding her eyes somewhat. She nodded, but he could tell that she was hurting, even if it wasn’t physical. He slung his left arm lightly across her shoulders and brought her closer, giving her some of his warmth and support. There was something about this little girl that touched him. He had never had a sister or a mother. The closest he had gotten was Isabel, but even that was fleeting. Being a soldier was hardly conducive of friendly, civilian relationships.

Maybe it was the fact the she had no one. Maybe it was the fact the he had no one either. Whatever it was, he found himself becoming very protective of the little girl at his side. The men at the safehouse had automatically thought that Rylie would care for the child, seeing as how Mabyn was all alone. But Rylie had been far too busy with saving lives to think about a small child, and so the task had been given to him. And he had accepted it sincerely. He had spoken with her, learned her name, her doll’s name, her favorite food, the list went on. He had only left her briefly to help Rylie when she needed it, but other than those short moments, Mabyn had his full attention.

They sat this way for several moments, until shadows crossed the light from the opening of the cave. Immediately the three soldiers were on their feet, moving toward the entrance, raising their weapons in case it was Cyrus’s men.

“Identify yourself!” he yelled out.

There was a brief pause. The figures outside the cave turned in the direction of his voice, and then entered carefully. The dark of the cave immersed the four newcomers in shadow, until the torches surrounding them illuminated their faces.

“Nic? Is that you?”

“William!”

Dominic motioned for the other two to lower their weapons, and Will and him embraced swiftly in relief. Dominic then turned to Koen and Isabel who were standing behind him. They were alive. His heart was beating wildly in his chest with the knowledge.

“How are you?” he asked softly to no one in particular. It seemed that they were all healthy with no evident injuries. But he noted the melancholy looks on Koen and Isabel’s faces. He wasn’t surprised however, after hearing of the events at the Festival.

“As well as can be expected.” Nic nodded at Will’s words. “You’re early.”

Dominic nodded again. “We left as soon as we could. We didn’t want to be late or keep you waiting. I think they all want off this planet as much as you do. Its kind of surprising how readily they accepted it.”

Will nodded.

He then turned away from Dominic towards his companions. “Nic, I’d like to introduce you. You’ve already met Koen and Isabel.”

They all shared a companionable smile and Nic nodded, bowing in reverence.

“Please,” Koen said, extending his hand. “There is no need to be so formal. Its nice to see you again Dominic.”

He hesitated slightly, unused to such an everyday, common gesture from a royal figure. But he shook Koen’s hand wholeheartedly and said, “Same here. I heard about the Festival. I’m so sorry. I wish I could have been there.”

Koen averted his eyes, but nodded his thanks.

Isabel approached him with a smile, extending her hand as well. Dominic remembered her being beautiful when she was younger. And now she was just as beautiful, even with her common clothing and unkempt hair. When they had been younger, and he was a guest of Will’s in the palace, he remembered her taking delight in her royal status. Seeing her this way, dethroned and defeated, it was … disconcerting. There was a sadness in her eyes that had not been there years before. He was sure Koen held the same sadness but had expertly disguised it.

Will turned towards the fourth of their group. “This is Alec. He’s the protector from the safehouse we were at.”

They shook hands as well, exchanging pleasantries.

Dominic spoke. “Koen, Isabel. The survivors have been waiting for you,” he said, gesturing to the seven other individuals now standing behind them.

Koen and Isabel nodded and walked off to greet the small group, Isabel reveling in the comfort that the survivors offered, and Koen shaking hands, acting genuine as best he could.

Nic turned to Alec and Will. “So Will, what’s the plan?”

He glanced at his watch. “We’ll leave in half an hour. From what I saw the dock is pretty deserted, so we shouldn’t have a problem getting access. Finding a descent ship to break gravity and get us to Cantu is another story.”

Dominic nodded, and then turned to Alec.

“Um … the other three protectors have left already.” He hesitantly asked, looking to Will in question, and then back to Alec. “Will you be leaving soon as well?”

Will shook his head. “No, he’s coming with us.”

He went to question Will’s response, but the query died in his throat. Now was not the time. Instead he nodded and offered Alec another welcoming handshake.

“I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into.”

Alec smiled, and returned the handshake. “That I do,” he said as he gazed at the group of now jubilant survivors.