The Trouble With Heroes.... (11 page)

He turned to her and clung, and she did the
only thing she could and held tighter still. She wished he'd cry,
but he'd surely drained himself of tears long ago.

"You don't want to be here, where you're not
wanted," she murmured, rubbing her face against his hair, stroking
him, tears escaping. "If it's me you want, I'll come with you.
Anywhere."

He turned his head against hers to brush
lips. "It's you I want, Jen. It's you I need. You. I thought of
you, dreamed of you. When I wanted to throw myself into the
blighters because it would be easier, I thought of coming back to
you." He kissed tears from her cheek. "Don't cry, love. Don't
cry."

"How can I not? But you're home now, Dan.
Home."

Then she realized what she'd said. She drew
back, cradled his face, looked into his eyes. "It's important to
you? That you come home?"

"I don't think I can carry on without it,
but... there's more. I'm the only one with a real home to come back
to. To heal, I need you. To live, I need you. But I need the town,
too. To do what needs to be done, to be what I need to be, I need
my family, your family, our family, our friends. Those are the
roots of the tree that I am, the tree that magic is, the tree of
the future."

She remembered then what he’d said. "When
the blighters might return?"

"I don't think we destroyed them, Jen. We
zapped a lot of them, millions, maybe, but I think in the end they
retreated. We were down to eighteen, and though we were each
bloated with power we were close to the end. Yet they went. If this
is their life cycle, perhaps they retreated with enough energy to
reproduce, or whatever they do."

"The last time must have been a thousand
years or more ago."

"But that's because they ate this place
almost to extinction. We’ve survived. If we slacken birth control,
we could build the population again in a generation. Even without
that, it'll probably be back in a century or so. Or Earth might
send more settlers."

Jenny pressed her face against his shoulder.
Eighteen left, all crippled in some way, yet they had to be
teachers for a new generation of fixers who might be needed within
decades -- needed to sacrifice themselves again? He was right.
There had to be a better way.

Dan and the few other sane fixers would have
to come up with that better way while training new ones. And they’d
have to train them in the wild magic as well as the old sort.

She remembered Polly’s baby. She knew now
he’d been right. They shouldn’t interfere too much with nature, but
that meant the world must change so that it could accept that.
Accept that, no matter the personal suffering, the magic must be
restrained unless the blighters returned to feed again. To lead all
this, Dan needed his home, and above all, he needed her.

She turned to touch her lips to his brow. "I
am home. I am yours. Always."

Lips joined, and she tasted need and
lingering ashes. No, need was too frail a word. Starvation. A
gaping hollow in the soul he'd tried so hard to hide from her. She
could not deny him the feast, no matter what the cost. Gathering
him into her arms, she deepened the kiss, took the ashes, and held
him close, until she felt the first desperation diminish.

"Come, love, come." She pulled his shirt
loose, and put hands to the hot skin of his back, already rolling
him out of the fire's low glow into some privacy. They tore at
clothes and he thrust deep within, seeming to burn her in the
surging connection with those alien places only he could touch.

She climaxed quickly, but he went on,
pounding into her until she wanted to protest, to cry stop. She
braced herself and bore it, knowing he was far away seeking
something deeper and stronger than mere orgasm. Something healing
for those invisible, terrible wounds. He drove her through two more
mechanical annihilations before he shuddered and stopped, limp as
the dead.

She winced as she bore his weight, knowing
it symbolized some of what was to come. His need was great, but she
would grow strong enough to bear it. His healing would draw on her,
but she would be a deep enough well. His thoughts would not always
be centered on her, but that was as it should be. He was a hero,
and a hero's intent is always on the greater goal.

Dan had become what he was in order to save
them all. She could do no less. For his sake and the world's, she'd
feed and nurture him.

And tomorrow, she would bring him home.

^^^^^^^^^^

They dressed as the sun began to rise, and
breakfasted on stale bread and stewed tea. They laughed about that,
remembering the park and the horribly boiled tea there. They talked
of the future, gently. He thought there might be many people like
her, with a little fixing ability that could be developed so they
could take on some of the load.

“
Perhaps everyone on Gaia’s that way,”
she said. “It could explain why it’s such a flourishing, stable
world.”

He met her smile. “Which it is, and will
be.”

When the sun was up, they extinguished the
fire, packed his bag, and walked up to knock on the postern gate.
The wide-eyed gatekeeper opened it and put the formal question.

"What business brings you to Anglia?"

Jenny answered. "I’m Jenny Hart, citizen,
and this is my chosen partner, Dan Rutherford Fixer. We’re
returning home."

The rule was ancient and absolute. Any
citizen's partner had freedom of the town.

"I'll have to see about this," the
gatekeeper said, shutting the door on them.

Jenny looked at Dan, trying to see him as
others would see him. She thought he looked as he always had. He’d
done something to make his hair short again, and he didn't think it
would grow so fast any more. Some of the stress was fading from his
features.

They'd made love again with the dawn, that
time for her. When she’d murmured about cameras, he’d said he’d
blocked them. She knew for sure now that it would be all right. She
wasn't bringing wildfire into the town, but winter fire, and she
would be its hearth.

The gatekeeper returned to open the gate for
them. Holding hands, Jenny led Dan through to face the bewildered,
hastily assembled alders.

The trouble with heroes is that they want to
come home.

But home needs its heroes, and home is also
their just reward.

The End

I hope you have enjoyed this story. It’s
definitely an outlier in my work, being science fiction, but I have
written a number of novellas with fantasy elements. I’ve listed
some below.

Most of my work is historical romance in the
Regency, Georgian, and medieval periods, all set in my native
England, but the subject of heroes recur.

Three of my stories were collected in
an omnibus edition called
Three
Heroes,
and
The Demon’s
Mistress
,
The Dragon’s
Bride
, and
The Devil’s
Heiress
feature men back from the Napoleonic Wars.
Their experiences were different as were the ways they changed, but
they each had to come to terms in order to move on and be happy
with their ladies.

All best wishes,

Jo

Other SF&F fiction from Jo
Beverley
.

The Demon’s Bride.

A Georgian paranormal romance.

Originally published in “Moonlit Lovers,”
out of print. Available as an e-book now.)

It’s 1753 and in a remote village in England
Rachel Proudfoot is feeling beleaguered. A rakish lord has decided
her virtue is a challenge, and her father wants her to advance his
studies of local lore by playing the leading role in an ancient
ritual. It’s happened every year, and in only one case had anything
gone awry, so she agrees. This time, however, the great earth
spirit stirs, and Lord Morden might be the only one able to save
Rachel from death.

Go here
http://www.jobev.com/tdbexc.html
for an excerpt and buy buttons.

The Marrying Maid

A Georgian fantasy romance.

An honorable mention for Best Science
Fiction, 2010

(Originally published in “Songs of Love and
Death.” Available as an e-book now)

Clergyman’s daughter, Martha Darby, is
visiting London with her mother as they recover from the death of
her father. She’s amused by the follies of the grandees until one
begins to pursue her with wicked intent. Rob Loxleigh is equally
surprised to be pursuing such a plain lady, but what can he do when
finally his destined bride has been revealed to him? He’s the last
of a magical line which has long been at war with Faery. If he
doesn’t win Martha within weeks, his line will die.

“
Beverley writes a
beautifully detailed historical romance that takes our heroine down
the road of love with Loxsleigh as her guide
.”
Goodreads

“
I was totally charmed by
Jo Beverley’s “The Marrying Maid.”
Fyreflybooks

Excerpt and buy links here.
http://www.jobev.com/mmaidexc.html

Other suggestions.

The Dragon and the Virgin
Princess
(Originally published in “Dragon Lovers.”
This story will be available as an e-novella soon.)

Set in a fairytale medieval land.

Princess Rozlinda of Saramond is the SVP --
the official Sacrificial Virgin Princess -- and has been for seven
long years. She longs for a dragon to come because after she
provides a few drops of her blood her duties will be over and she
can cease to be a V. When a dragon arrives, however, things don’t
go as they should. Rozlinda finds herself on a dragon’s back, being
carried away to the dragon lands of Dorn by a cold-eyed man with
bones in his hair.

Read an excerpt here
http://www.jobev.com/dlexc.html

The Raven and the
Rose
(From “Chalice of Roses.” This story will be
available as an e-novella soon.)

Set in 12th century England.

Sister Gledys wants to be a good nun, but
she has these sinful dreams about a warrior. She prays and resists,
until an old woman convinces her she hold the secret of the Holy
Grail, and only she and her warrior can bring peace to war-torn
England. How to find him, however. And when she does, how to
convince him of their mission?

Read an excerpt here.
http://www.jobev.com/corexc.html

A complete list of my e-novellas is
available at
here.

A complete list of books can be found
at
http://www.jobev.com/booklist.html

My next
new book is
Seduction in
Silk
, a historical romance set in the 18th century,
out in August 2013. Here’s a free sample.

“
You have betrayed me, Giles
Perriam. You have made me a whore and my unborn child a bastard and
your money cannot wash that clean. You’ll hear no more from me, but
now and with my last breath I wish on you the sufferings that your
black heart deserves. May you suffer as I must suffer. May any wife
you take die young as I must die, and any children die young as
mine must die. May you yourself die young and suffering. May your
guilt oppress you every day until Satan comes to carry you to burn
in hell, and may this curse pass to your heirs as long as time may
be.”

(This decades old curse has haunted Perriam
Manor, and now it seems it will fall on the new owner, Peregrine
Perriam, if he cannot persuade a clergyman’s daughter to marry him.
Though inconvenient, that shouldn’t be a challenge. Perry is known
for his charms, and Claris Mallow is reduced to living in a
ramshackle cottage. Little does he know!)

Perry approached a terrace of four small
cottages, skeptical that one housed Miss Claris Mallow, daughter of
the Reverend Henry Mallow, once friend of Giles Perriam. On arrival
in Old Barford, he’d left his horse at the inn and gone to the
rectory, which was a handsome house that couldn’t be more than
forty years old. There he’d learned that Mallow was a year dead and
that his family was living at Lavender Cottage.

Sometimes “cottage” was applied to a small
house of some style and dignity, and that’s what he’d expected.
This row lacked both, but the end one on the left was fronted by
lavender plants, so that must be his destination. The modern
rectory lay only a hundred yards away as the crow flies, but it was
a hundred miles away in all other respects. Henry Mallow hadn’t
provided well for his family, but that could be to his own
advantage.

If the family was impoverished, Miss Mallow
would be eager to wed. In fact, he’d be an angel to rival Gabriel
at the Annunciation. Amused by that image, he walked up to the
warped door and rapped on it with the head of his riding crop. He’d
soon be back in Town.

In the week since Giles’s death, he’d
received two reproaches about tasks abandoned when he’d obeyed
Cousin Giles’s summons. One was indirectly from the king. There’d
also been a fuming letter from his father. As usual, his father
fumed to no purpose, for there was nothing to be done about Perriam
Manor other than this.

He was about to knock again when the door
was opened by a maidservant so short he thought her a child until
he saw the wrinkled face. Sixty if she was a day, though when she
smiled her teeth all seemed sound.

“
Good afternoon, sir. Can I help
you?”