Vengeance (2 page)

Those five words
shatter Bastien’s existence.  The pain swoops in with such
shocking intensity that he clasps his stomach and doubles over as if
he has been subjected to a literal punch in the gut.  A
strangled moan escapes his lips.  He can hear Kyan calling his
name but he does not care.  He cannot.

How could he not
have known?  Was it willful denial that led him to lose count of
the days?  Was there some unconscious need that kept him
training for hours on end alone on the rooftop instead of down with
the men?  

“I must go.”
 Kyan’s words break through his panic and Bastien raises
up.

“Wait!”
Now that Kyan is here Bastien finds so many things that he wishes he
could say.  It’s not easy being one of only two people who
truly know his identity.  Kyan’s ability to wipe memories
enabled Bastien to slip away without any awkward goodbyes but it has
also left him feeling empty, a black hole with emotions that can't be
shared with anyone for fear that everything will unravel.

No
one apart from Kyan knows he even existed before the attack on the
palace, in which King Aloysius died and the government was finally
overthrown.  That is how Bastien wanted it.  Of course
Kyan’s reach does not extend beyond those he comes in physical
contact with, so each of the men selected to be stationed at this
moon base were chosen personally by Kyan.  It was the only way
for the ruse to work.

Kyan turns back
toward the screen, his hand poised over the disconnect button.
 Bastien sucks in a small breath, holding it till his lungs
begin to burn before he releases it to speak.  “Will you
give her a message for me?”

His friend frowns.
 “I’m not so sure that is a good idea…”

“Please,”
Bastien pleads.  He rises and approaches the screen.  “I
just...I need her to know to be careful.”

Kyan sits back,
steepling his fingers before him.  “Is there some threat
that I should know about?”

“No,”
Bastien draws out, crossing his arms tightly across his chest.  His
muscles ache but he ignores the pain.  He thrives off of it.
 It’s the only thing that reminds him that he’s
still alive when all he can focus on is the hole in his chest that
will never mend.  “I just...just watch over her for me,
ok?”

Kyan offers him a
sad smile.  “I always do.”  

“And Kyan,”
Bastien calls as his friend begins to turn away.  “Can you
tell her that I wish her all the best?”

His friend’s
hesitation doesn’t go unnoticed and Bastien grimaces, shaking
his head.  “Never mind.  That would probably just
confuse her, wouldn’t it?”

“A little,”
Kyan admits.  He turns slightly away from the screen and holds
up his hand.  

“Are you
walking her down the aisle?”  Bastien’s voice wavers
slightly and he clears his throat.  

Kyan nods.  The
lines around his eyes become more prominent.  “Her
father’s illness has weakened him too much, so he asked that I
take his place at her side.”

Bastien
nods, feeling his throat begin to clench.  Soon he won’t
be able to speak or hold back the tears that threaten to fall.  He
closes his eyes and turns away.  News of her father’s
illness upsets him, knowing how much she must be hurting and how he
is incapable of being there for her.

It’s not my
right to be.  I gave that up.

“I truly am
sorry, Bastien.”  Kyan’s whisper tears at Bastien’s
heart, wrenching a sob from his throat.  He presses a trembling
hand to his lips and nods.  

“Me too,”
he whispers.  It takes him a moment to regain control before he
turns to offer Kyan a pained smile.  “Keep her safe for
me,” he whispers.

“Always.”
 Kyan places his fist against the screen and waits. Bastien’s
steps are wooden as he approaches and places his fist to the monitor,
a Caldonian sign of true friendship.  “Goodbye, my
friend.”

Bastien slides his
hand across the screen and punches the disconnect button.  The
screen goes black and his hand falls away.  He walks toward the
window, staring through his tears at Calisted, knowing that he is
missing a wedding that will bring great joy to everyone living on
that planet.  Earth will rejoice as peace is finally brought to
both peoples.

But
Bastien can't bring himself to feel an ounce of joy, for there is
none left in him to be found.  The closest moon, far smaller
than the one he resides on, rises before him with a swirl of deep
reds and dotted with sapphire clouds that match his own eye color.
 In less than an hour it will eclipse the base’s view and
completely block Calisted.

A luminous scarlet
glow lights his feet as he presses a button on a control panel on the
wall and the domed glass window splits in half, disappearing into the
top and bottom of the window frame.

The heat that hits
him is stifling, but welcoming at the same time.  The dancing
waters of the Daldorian waterfall can be heard over the song birds
nestling down in their beds.  The falls call to him.  He
knows that beside them he might be able to drown out his thoughts,
even if only briefly.

Time passes slowly
as he stands on the threshold of the window, listening.  As the
last sliver of Calisted disappears from sight, flashes of light soar
high into the air.  He lifts his gaze as brilliant blues,
purples and reds burst like fireworks over the jungle canopy.  Shouts
of joy rise from across the base.  The clanging of pots and pans
can be heard from the far end of the building as cooks leave their
meal preparations to celebrate.  Bells and shrill whistles
announcing the conclusion of the royal wedding echo in Bastien’s
ears as he lowers his head.

He grips the edge of
his window with trembling fingers, his toes curling over the ledge.
 Winds buffet him, rising from within the great depths of the
ravine.  It is nearly a two hundred foot drop straight down to
reach the canopy below.  Bastien’s tears fall unheeded as
he is overcome with grief.  

“I have truly
lost her,” he whispers and leans over the edge, tumbling down
into darkness.

My
mother used to say that the eyes are the window to a person’s
soul.  Over the past few months I have begun to wonder if that
extends to dreams as well.  

Rolling onto my
side, I slip out from beneath the covers and plod silently across the
cool tile floor.  A shiver that has nothing to do with the cool
breeze wafting through the floor to ceiling windows grips me.  I
cross my arms over my chest and rub my fingers over gooseflesh.  

I
had another dream last night.  They seem to be coming more
frequently.  This one has repeated several times.  Each
morning I dream of the man called Bastien falling into a ravine, and
I awake with tears in my eyes and an ache in my chest.  

Eamon
suspects something is wrong, but I can’t tell him about it for
fear of hurting his feelings.  I have considered seeking Kyan’s
counsel, wondering if these strange dreams are somehow visions of the
future.  
But
how can they be?  The dream was of my wedding day, and that was
months ago.  Perhaps it is a glimpse into the past?

I
lean against a tall marble-veined pillar and look out through the
white gossamer curtains that sway in the breeze.  The hem
tickles my bare feet, but I hardly notice.  
Perhaps
it is nothing more than stress,
I surmise as I think back upon the past few months since my wedding
day.  

My life will never
be the same.  The day King Aloysius’ regime fell and I was
crowned Queen, I set aside my childish fancies and became a woman:
insecure and unsure of herself, but determined none the less.  I
hardly recognize myself when I look in the mirror now.  Although
I have grown fond of my black hair, there is a hollowness in my eyes
that feels foreign to me.  

I was sure Eamon
would notice, but he has his own duties to attend to when back on
Calisted.  I turn and glance back at him over my shoulder,
smiling at the tawny hue of his bare back against the white covers.
 He stirs, restless in his own sleep.  I love moments like
this when the world falls away and I am able to just be.  No one
calling my name.  No one demanding an audience.  

The name “wife”
has been one that I have greatly enjoyed accepting.  Eamon is a
wonderful, attentive husband.  He is kind and gentle, just as I
always knew he would be.  It was he that insisted that we
finally leave for a long overdue honeymoon.  Although I put up a
fight, insisting that I was needed back on Calisted, he enlisted the
help of Kyan to overrule me.  A mutiny among my own ranks.

I turn away from
Eamon, feeling the familiar warmth in my belly as I notice the curve
of his jawline or unruly hair after a night spent in my arms.  I
know that I am blessed.  I have a life that any woman could
dream for and yet, in the early morning stillness, sometimes I feel
completely alone.  As if a part of me has been stolen away and I
am left searching for it, though I have no idea where to look.

The
sound of covers shifting brings a smile to my face.  I listen
without turning as Eamon stirs, groaning as he stretches.  His
feet pad against the floor as he approaches.  His arms encircle
my waist as he places his lips against the nape of my neck.  His
warm breath sends ripples of goosebumps across my bare skin.  

He
brushes his hand across the thin strap that drapes my nightgown
across my body, pushing it down my arms so that he can have unimpeded
access.  It pools at my feet and I close my eyes to the cool
breeze as it washes over my bare skin.

Eamon presses the
length of his body against my back. I lean instinctively back into
him, closing my eyes to his touch.  His fingers graze along my
skin, sliding down my arms to rest against my hip.  “I
missed you,” he whispers against my ear.  

“I’ve
only been gone a moment,” I laugh and turn my face.  His
lips slide up from my neck and he nestles into the hair billowing
around my ear.  

“Feels like an
eternity.”  His groan and the press of his fingers against
my hips makes me laugh softly.  

“After last
night I expected you to sleep the day away.”

“And miss
having you in my arms?”  He pulls back my curtain of hair
and presses his lips just behind my ear.  I shiver as his arm
winds around my waist, drawing me in close.  “I wouldn’t
miss this for the world.”

“Is that all?”
 I wind my hand back around my side to grasp his hand as it
begins to journey into sensitive regions.  His fingers flex as
if he doesn’t want to give up control but he allows me to wind
my fingers through his and draw him back to my waist.  I turn to
face him, my resolve wavering in the face of his endearing pout.

I will never get
used to the sight of Eamon.  I have spent years looking at him,
hunting beside him, even falling asleep in his arms under the stars,
but this is different.  He stands before me without any
barriers.  Nothing hidden.  Nothing secret.  The level
of intimacy is one that I could never have conceived of before,
bonding us together in ways that make my toes curl with excitement.
  

Eamon leans forward
and kisses the end of my nose.  It is his sign that he is
willing to concede defeat...for the moment.

“You seem
distracted,” Eamon whispers as he winds his arms around my
waist, holding me close.  

I nod, allowing a
small frown to tear down my smile.  “I’m sorry.  I’m
being a terrible wife, aren’t I?”

Eamon gently uses
his thumb and forefinger to lift my chin so that I meet his tender
gaze.  “That is not possible.”  He smiles and
tucks a stray clump of hair behind my ear.  I can only imagine
how messy it looks after so many hours spent lounging in bed.  Hardly
the behavior expected of a Queen, but at the moment I struggle to
find a reason to care while in his arms.  “Homesick
already?”

“A bit,”
I admit sheepishly.  Though we have only been gone a short time,
I find myself drawn back to my people.  Our people.  On
Earth my only purpose in life was to hunt, to bring in the game so we
could eat.  It was a simple task; not always an easy one, but it
was something I was good at.  Now my days are filled with
meetings, delegations, official reports, and I hardly have time to
think of myself.

I do not begrudge
this new role.  A part of me actually enjoys it, especially when
I am able to get out among the people and see the changes that have
occurred since my late husband’s death.

Aloysius
was a cruel dictator.  It took the first three months after his
death to recall many of the troops from Earth and allow them to be
with their families.  Husbands and wives, mothers and fathers,
siblings reunited for the first time since the invasion.  Countless
officials within Aloysius’ court were released to be returned
to their homes, their abilities no longer being exploited for
personal gain but used for the greater good.  Many volunteered
to return to Earth to see to the repairs but those who wished to
remain behind were granted their desire.

Regular
supply routes have been created to send much needed supplies to the
people of Earth.  Rebuilding teams have already begun working
alongside the survivors to uncover ruins of cities and begin
restoring them to their former glory.  I dearly wish that I
could take part in the renovations myself, but my place is here.  

Kyan is still head
of my war council, seeing to the finer details of keeping our
defenses intact.  Carleon is his second-in-command now, a
position that I believe is all too fitting for my friend.  His
most pressing task has been to nominate other leaders to take over
command of Caldonian soldiers who live among the stars.  

Distant worlds are
being explored and inhabited.  Peace flows like the river that
trails through the heart of Calahorra, which has been recently
renamed “City of the Queen.”