Chapter Eighteen

Janice couldn’t remember the last time she was truly happy. Happy with no strings attached, that is. Maybe the first fencing tournament she’d attended. But no, she’d spent the entire time trying in vain to gain her father’s attention. And he was too busy glad-handing with more powerful men than he.

Perhaps it was the day her mother taught her the power of various crystals after Janice had discovered her hidden altar in the master bedroom. But no, that descended into arguing over Janice’s interest in swordplay.

She and her sister had always argued. And her grandmother. Well, her grandmother hated her father. And every other man, for that matter.

There was that time with Jules. No….. She wasn’t going to think about that

Only in her dreams, it was always in her dreams where she was truly happy. Success was success. No one to interpret it as failure. No one to disappoint, period.

In her dreams, no one wanted anything from her.

And as she drifted underwater through the sea, watching every manner of marine life she’d only read about in books, the coral reds and the scaly blues and the bubbles that brought air into her lungs, she couldn’t understand. How could she have ever wished this gone from her life?

She had a power she didn’t understand. And maybe, she thought, she never would. But as her dream powers bled into the real world, she knew that this was the best it was ever going to get. This was the last place no one would ever need her. Here, she was free.

“Miss.”

Janice shook.

“Miss, please.”

Janice yawned.

“Miss Janice, wake up.”

“The fuck do you want?”

She awoke to find Alistair standing above her. The sun barely shone over his shoulder, glimmering off his armor and into her eyes.

“We need to go,” he said.

“Go away, Alistair,” she said groggily. “I want more.”

Her entire body shook as she was lifted off the ground and re-opened her eyes to find herself in a seated position.

“I’m sorry, my dear, but I don’t have time for gentleness. Or gentlemanliness.”

“What? I don’t think that’s a word.”

“We need to go, Janice,” he said with urgency.

Janice rubbed her eyes and clawed at the crusties formed in the corners.

“Follow me,” Alistair said, as he scrambled out of the trench. Lawrence was still sound asleep. The bottle he’d opened the previous night lay empty at his side.

Janice huffed and stretched her limbs. For a moment, she considered collapsing back into her bedroll for more sleep, but she looked up to see Alistair glaring back down at her. There was fear in his eyes.

“Fine,” she said.

For once, she allowed him to give her a lending hand. She was too damn tired not to. And she was way too damn tired to see the billow of smoke in the distance, only slightly obscuring the march of men behind it.

“What is that?”

“I don’t know who exactly they march for,” Alistair said. “But I know those banners are not friendly to me.”

“What are you talking about? Are they Leuthen soldiers?!”

Alistair paused for a moment. She saw the conflict in his face. Cheeks twitched, and his eyes failed to focus on her. She’d never noticed how intense his gaze had always been on her before then.

“I promise you I did not know about the massacre or any plans for it,” he said. “But it has opened up a cauldron of sin. War is coming to this land. And I intend to fight on the side of righteousness.”

“And these soldiers?”

“They do not. They clearly seek reprisal for the lives lost one week ago. But they do not matter, Janice.” He turned to her and placed a hand on each of her shoulders. “Now, you have power. You can stop this demon. And I can stop these men who seek to ruin our great nation. Come with me, Janice.”

“Wait wait wait wait…... wait wait wait.” She swatted his hands away.

“Jan…..”

“Wait.”

“Wait.” Janice held her head. She thought that perhaps any moment now she could imagine herself fully awake and making sense of Alistair’s words. At any moment.

“Are you telling me? What are you telling me?”

“We are about to undergo a fight for this nation’s soul.”

“Nope.” Janice shook her head. “That’s not it. Why would you have known about the massacre? What’s going on? What do you know?”

Alistair sighed heavily. Even in his full plate mail armor glistening mightily in the sun, damp with the morning dew, his shoulders sunk.

“Your father was in deep,” he said. “I don’t exactly know what he was plotting. But I know in what circles he ran. That massacre wasn’t just an opening salvo in a civil war. It was meant to be a killing blow for one. To end it before it even started. But Janice, you and I meeting was divine providence. God brought us together. With our powers combined…...”

“This is crazy.” Janice started to creep away, one arm straight, the other shyly draped across her chest.

“Janice, I love you.” Alistair paused as a smile burst across his face. “Yes, I know it’s crazy. It is crazy. But I love you.”

He spread his arms open wide and stepped toward her as Janice continued to slip further away.

“You have cast a spell over me. It’s like one of those fairy tales. I know you probably don’t think yourself worthy of me, but come, Janice. Come with me. Let’s fight this together.”

He held out a hand for her as Janice inched toward the trench’s precipice. She looked toward the army in the distance, no longer just dust on the horizon but a calamity of pounding boots and hooves into the earth. She looked to Lawrence. He still slept.

“Forget about him,” Alistair said. “He’s with them. He is not a man of honor. He is beneath people like us. Now come, my love.”

“No,” Janice creaked.

“What?”

“No,” she said more sternly. “I’m not going. I don’t know what’s happening, but I’m not going.”

Alistair paused. She saw the calculations burning through his mind as his eyes drifted from her to the sky. From her to the ground. From her back to the army stalking just over his shoulder.

“Janice, I don’t think you understand,” he said shaking his head.

“No,” she said again. “Go if you must. I have my own plans.”

She began climbing down into the trench, her boots sliding along the dirt wall. Lawrence was now awake below, packing his goods. Alistair took one look at him, and then another at Janice. She only watched him from the corner of her eye, as he finally fled from sight.

“What was that all about?” Lawrence asked.

“Nothing,” Janice said, as she joined him in packing up the camp, preparing for another day’s journey.

“Is he coming back?”

“Doubt it.”

“Ok.”

They both emerged from the trench, eyes squarely on the army, which now shook the earth at their feet, a mere hundred yards away.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Lawrence said with a chuckle.

“What?”

“I know that banner,” he said. “Wooooooo! Almost makes me believe in God.”

Janice crinkled her nose.

“What do I care about some warring army?”

“Isn’t this what you wanted? A chance to fight? C’mon, we’ll get you a real master to train under.”

Lawrence began to move toward the army, but Janice stayed her ground. She didn’t know what she wanted anymore.

“What are you doing?”

She could only stare at the ground. Her body did not move.

Lawrence stuttered a few meaningless words before regaining his thoughts.

“What do you want?”

“I don’t know.” She didn’t. Janice shuffled her feet in the dirt, watching the path she drew with the toes of her boot. Circles and lines. Circles and lines.

Lawrence stepped toward her. She continued to look down and avoided his eyes.

“We’ll go where you want to go,” he said.

“Why?” She didn’t understand why he said that.

“I just want to see you safe, Janice.”

“Why though?”

“I… because….”

“Because you loved my mother? What? Ten years ago?”

“I guess so,” he said with a sigh, rubbing the back of his head. Both stared toward the ground as they talked. “I loved you too. And your sister. I know you don’t remember.”

“No, I don’t,” she said. “So what? What, are you going to tell me something stupid, like you’re my real father or something.”

“No, of course not.”

She looked upon him. And he looked lost. Broken. She knew she would feel sorry for him someday, at some point. But at this moment, all she felt was disdain. She saw an anchor around her neck.

“Go with them, Lawrence. Go to the people who need you.”

He met her gaze.

“I can’t just leave you here, alone.”

“I think if this last week has proven anything, it’s that you need my protection more than I need yours.”

Lawrence laughed and nodded as he looked to the sky. His shoulders slumped, and his legs twitched nervously. And slowly, he turned to leave.

“Lawrence,” she thought about calling to him. And she imagined he’d pause, back still to her. “Thank you. And I’m sorry.” She didn’t actually say that though.

He’d nod, and pad off toward the horizon. She did watch him leave and didn’t move until he disappeared into the morass of armor and dust.

And finally she was alone. It did not feel as freeing as she thought it would. It felt lonely.