Clarke eventually used Gabriel's sword — honed to a razor-sharp edge, just as he'd boasted — to cut up a silky fabric lying beneath one of the glass display cases. Under strenuous protest, a wadded-up section was stuffed into his mouth and another strip tied tightly around his head to hold the gag in place.
"We're going to need something stronger than this to tie his hands," Bellamy told her, his glance falling on the old-fashioned blinds that covered every window. "I think those things go up and down on a cord. See if you can cut off enough to tie him with."
Within minutes, the window cords had been converted into tight bindings, Bellamy doing the honors while Clarke held the gun on Gabriel to ensure his cooperation. He was soon trussed up grounder-style, the cord looping around his shoulders and then knotting his hands together behind his back. Bellamy temporarily secured him to a straight-backed chair.
"Okay, that's done," he said, straightening up. "I could ask for an explanation now, but I'd just as soon get the hell out of here."
"Agreed." She shrugged and headed to the door. "Pointless to wait. We can't go anywhere until we get out of this room."
But when she carefully unlocked and opened the door, she was shocked to find the silent hallway wasn't empty after all. The housekeeper, Grace, was standing like a sentry just outside the room.
Clarke jumped back with a startled gasp, but Grace hurriedly launched into speech.
"You're the mother of the prophecy child, right? I saw you at the meeting."
"That's right," Clark acknowledged warily.
Grace shook her head. "It's not right what Gabriel's doing. His father would be so ashamed."
"Do you mean bringing me here or... other things."
"I mean everything. All of it. He shouldn't have brought you here like that. I saw you, knew you weren't awake, and that was bad enough. But that other stuff," she paused, her lips pinched in disapproval, "I didn't know what to do, but now you can take care of it. You and your man in there."
Clarke wasn't surprised to find that the woman had known what Gabriel had been up to.
"We can only take care of things if we can figure out how to get out of here, Grace. Bring Gabriel into the city so we can turn him over to the authorities. But with all his men roaming around, I don't see how..."
"Through the kitchen door," the woman interrupted, like she'd already thought it all through. "There's no one in there this time of day."
"But Bellamy's vehicle..."
"Is out front. I know. But the men are all outside and none of them know what's happened here. So he just walks out, cool as you please like the visit's over, but instead of driving away, he can circle around to the kitchen entrance. I'll let him in and then you can move Gabriel down the back hallway and into the kitchen."
Clarke nodded. It just might work.
"It's a good plan, Grace, but won't it put you in some danger? If something goes wrong and Gabriel finds out you helped us?"
But the woman looked determined. "You let me worry about that. I owe it to William - Gabriel's father - to see to it his son doesn't disgrace the family name. No matter what."
Clarke nodded in sympathy. She understood that motivation very well. "Okay, if you're sure, I'll tell Bellamy. And, Grace... thanks."
The first part of the plan went like clockwork. Clarke watched through a gap in the blinds as Bellamy casually retrieved his car, giving the three curious men in the main drive a friendly salute. Within minutes, he'd returned to the house, parking as close as possible to the kitchen entrance, with the car facing away from the house for an easier getaway.
Still leaving them with a steep graveled path of about thirty yards to traverse between the house and the vehicle.
The gun Clarke held at his back persuaded Gabriel to cooperate while Bellamy hustled him through the house. But when they stepped through the kitchen doorway and Gabriel saw the vehicle, understood that they were actually spiriting him away, he tried to dig in his heels. Bellamy clutched at his bindings and began to drag him down the incline.
It was at that most inopportune moment that the man Clarke recognized as Jacko suddenly emerged from the dense woods that surrounded the massive house.
"Hey, what the hell do you think you're doing!" he accused loudly.
Clarke turned and trained the gun on him. "Nothing you need to get involved in, Jacko."
But Gabriel, seeing apparent rescue at hand, began to squirm heavily and kick out until Bellamy finally gut-punched him, hefting him over one shoulder, and jogging the last several yards down the rocky incline to yank open the rear door and drop the winded Gabriel onto the seat.
Only to turn and see Gabriel's three other henchmen race around the far corner of the house, clearly alerted by Jacko's shout.
"Clarke, watch out!" he yelled, jerking his head in their direction. "One of them's got a knife!"
She whirled just in time, firing on the fly, happy to find she hadn't lost her skill as the shot grazed the hand of the would-be knifer and his weapon tumbled to the ground. But the quick movement had thrown Clarke off-balance and she missed her footing, going down hard on her back, slipping and sliding several feet down the graveled path.
Her arms, legs, and especially her bare feet caught the brunt of the fall, and when she finally came to a halt she was still several feet from the car. She was winded, and stunned, and her body was beginning to sting from multiple cuts and abrasions.
The wounded man held his bloody hand, looking both shocked and outraged. When the others just looked uncertain, Clarke was sure they weren't armed. But she was still on the ground, still vulnerable, and she didn't want them getting any ideas.
She fired a round into the air.
"Somebody else looking for a bullet?" she shouted, feigning a calmness she certainly didn't feel. "Maybe I can find a sweeter spot than your hand."
She fervently hoped it would be enough to give them pause because she sure as hell didn't want to have to shoot anyone else.
But then Bellamy was suddenly there, hauling her up, grabbing the gun, leveling it at Gabriel's henchmen.
"You thinking about hurting the mother of the prophecy child?" he asked, reminding them who it was they were dealing with.
And that brought them all up short.
"What?" Jacko looked confused. "I thought you was just one of Gabriel's women."
"Does he usually keep his women locked up?" Clarke asked, leaning into Bellamy, trying to hide the fact that she wasn't sure her ankle would hold her weight.
"He usually can't get rid of 'em. Don't matter. You still can't just take him away like that!" he insisted belligerently.
Jacko and the others seemed torn between fear, aggression, and frustration, and it was only made worse when Gabriel suddenly pressed his face into the car window and began banging his head against it. Clarke couldn't help thinking how desperate he must be to risk injuring his pretty face.
But by then, Bellamy and Clarke had reached the vehicle, and he thrust her inside. She quickly scrambled across the bench into passenger's seat.
"We're leaving now," Bellamy told the men, still pointing the gun at them as he slid behind the wheel and pressed the ignition. "But I have plenty of time to shoot you all before we go, or you can just get the hell out of the way."
The four of them jumped back so fast it might have been comical if Clarke had felt at all like laughing.
"Don't worry, Gabriel," Jacko yelled, too fearful to move against the gun, but brave enough to shoot from the lip, "we'll be right behind."
But Bellamy had already shut the door and was taking off quickly down the drive. He tossed Clarke the gun along with a length of cording.
"Can you crawl back there and tie him to the overhead panel? There's some kind of hook at the very back near the hatch door."
When she nodded, he reminded her to watch out for Gabriel's legs.
Clarke slid over the back of the front seat, and crawled toward their captive, frowning.
"Just give me an excuse to shoot you, Gabriel. You sure as hell wouldn't be the first man I ever killed."
Something in her tone must have convinced him, or maybe Gabriel was counting on his men catching up with them. Whatever the reason, he sat motionless while she used the cord to attach his hands to the rearmost section of the overhead panel.
She was about to climb back into the front when she spied what looked like a piece of cloth on the floor, apparently left behind by the vehicle's owner. It turned out to be a scarf of some fluffy woven material, but what surprised Clarke most about it was it's bright yellow color. She had a hard time imagining Oriana, she of the gray and beige pants suits, wearing anything quite so sunny.
Clarke had a sudden inspiration. The scarf was thick, yet loosely-woven, open enough to let air through but heavy enough to muffle sound.
In other words, perfect.
Within seconds, she had the thing draped over Gabriel's head and wrapped loosely around his neck. He did seem to object to this further restriction on his person, twisting his head vigorously in an attempt to get away.
"Oh, don't be such a baby," she muttered, making a loose knot with the garment to secure it in place.
Surely this was more comfortable than the bag over her head she'd had to endure when Roan captured her all those years ago,
Done at last, she climbed back into the front seat.
"I've put something over his head so we can talk," she said.
Bellamy nodded. "Good." But he'd begun to glance worriedly into the rear-view mirror as he negotiated the narrow twisting drive.
"You see anyone following us, Clarke? I don't really want to take my eyes off this damn road."
Clarke turned quickly, peering back into the late morning sun, looking for telltale signs that they were being tailed.
She frowned. "I don't think..." .
And then she heard it, the sound unmistakable, and she couldn't help the short bark of laughter.
"What?"
"Listen."
When a rare grin lit Bellamy's face a moment later, she knew he'd caught it, too. The very distinct whine of an engine that refused turn over.
She figured they both knew why that was.
Thank you, Grace, she thought with relief, settling into her seat.
"I don't think the cavalry's coming after all, Gabriel," she tossed back to their unwilling passenger. "Better make yourself comfortable for the ride into the city."
XXXXXXXXXX
Clarke watched anxiously as Bellamy carefully keyed the code into the locked gate, the same one they'd radioed to him on the way in.
"I guess they hadn't had time to change it," she said, breathing a sigh of relief when the gate swung silently open, allowing them to pass.
Keeping his voice low so as not to be overheard by their unwilling passenger, Bellamy's questions began as soon as they were back onto the main track.
"So what's going on, Clarke? Why do we have that idiot tied up in the back seat?"
Bellamy took a quick breath, then his voice became raw, like he was he having trouble getting the words out.
"Did he... he didn't hurt you, did he? Assault you?"
"No," Clarke assured him hastily, grasping his arm. "Nothing like that happened. Though just at first... after I woke up in his house... I did think maybe it was some kind of warped attempt at seduction."
Bellamy sucked in a breath, but she could see the relief in his face.
"That fucking asshole still has a lot to answer for. I knew he had a thing for you, but to actually drug you, kidnap you..."
Her mouth twisted in a wry smile. "It's true he may once have been bedazzled by my charms, but I think we're probably well past that now. And anyway, that's not why he took me."
"No?"
"No. Although I think that might have been on the agenda for... afterwards."
"After... what?" His eyes left the road for the briefest moment as he sent her a puzzled glance.
She took a quick breath. "After the coup."
"The... coup?" The words came out on a hiss as his brows rose in shocked surprise. "You've got to be kidding me. How the hell did you find out about that?"
"Easily. He wasted no time telling me all about it, and how having the prophecy child in his power was now part of his grand plan." She shrugged, and added almost carelessly, "To apparently be followed at a later date by my falling into his arms."
"Jesus!"
Clarke watched as a dozen different expressions crossed Bellamy's face and knew he must be thinking furiously.
"Do you have some kind of proof of all this? Other than what he told you? Something tangible that we can show Oriana?"
Her voice dropped to a whisper as she shifted slightly in her seat and pulled the flash drive from her right pants pocket. "Right here."
Bellamy's eyes widened in surprise. "Where'd you get that?"
"From his safe. Same place I got the gun. But somehow I don't think he's figured out yet that if I have the one I probably have the other. And I'm just as happy to have it come as an unpleasant surprise."
"And... how is it that you got into his safe?"
Clarke hesitated. "I think we can leave that story for another day," she said finally. "What I want to know is where you got this lovely vehicle we're riding in."
Bellamy shrugged lightly.
"I convinced Oriana to lend it to me."
"Oh? Did you make use of your mega-watt smile?"
Bellamy's brow wrinkled in confusion. "My what?"
Clarke ducked her head and grinned, considered once again how little personal vanity Bellamy really had and said, "Never mind. How did you convince her?"
"I just said I really wanted to have a look at the asshole's sword collection — uh, I may not have used those exact words — and it was the least she could do considering everything we're doing for them. She tried to tell me I'd get lost, but then I showed her my trusty compass. She finally threw up her hands and said I was on my own. But she gave me the car."
"So... she never knew you were actually looking for me?"
He shook his head. "They all believed that idiotic story Gabriel coerced Abby into giving out. About the mountain retreat."
Clarke said quietly. "Everyone but you."
When he nodded, she couldn't help asking, "Why didn't you believe it, too?"
He was silent for a moment, then he finally shrugged, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye and giving her his crooked smile.
"I just knew it had to be a lie."
"But why..." she began
Bellamy interrupted, abruptly changing the subject. "Can you grab the radio out of the glove box, Clarke? I think we're finally close enough to the city to transmit, and we need to give Oriana a heads up. We can't just show up at the front door with her co-leader trussed up tight and expect a warm welcome."
Clarke's smile was sardonic as she handed him the radio. "No, I suppose not. What did you have in mind?"
"Secret meeting."
"And how do you know she'll even believe us, Bellamy? That she'll take our word for what happened out there? That she won't twist it all around, make it somehow our fault?"
Bellamy shrugged. "I don't. Not really. And Oriana isn't exactly the friendliest leader I've ever known, or the easiest to read. But we do have that flash drive, and I gotta agree with you that if Gabriel had it in his safe, there must be some pretty damning evidence on it."
He reached over to grab her hand.
"Besides," he said, "in the end we have to trust someone. And since I know you're not suggesting we throw in with Gabriel, I don't see where we have a lot of choices here."
Clarke sighed, finally nodding. "Oriana it is, then."
He gave her a reassuring smile then picked up the radio to transmit. When a surprised Oriana responded, the first thing she asked was if he was lost.
Bellamy chuckled. "Nope. Not lost. But... something's come up. I need you to meet us in the vehicle bay with a couple of your most trusted personal guards. And bring your tablet."
"Us?"
"Clarke's with me. And, Oriana, when I say trusted guards, I mean those you'd trust with your life."
There was a short pause while only light static came over the radio, and for a few moments Clarke was worried she wasn't going to respond. Or, eventually, believe them.
But then Oriana's crisp authoritative voice came back on the line.
"Copy that," she said.
XXXXXXXXXX
Oriana was waiting when they arrived in the vehicle bay, so Bellamy stepped out of the car while Clarke remained in the passenger seat with the window open.
"All right, Bellamy, what's so important that it called for a clandestine meeting in a part of this building that I rarely have need to visit?" Oriana said in her usual direct - and slightly unpleasant - manner.
"I'm afraid I've got some unwelcome news," he said.
Oriana narrowed her eyes and nodded towards the car.
"And does it have to do with why Clarke is here with you instead of still enjoying our spa retreat in the mountains?"
"I was never at your spa in the mountains," Clarke broke in, her words clipped.
Oriana frowned. "I don't understand. I spoke to the doctor myself when I couldn't find you at the end of the gala. She said you'd already gone home. That you were planning to leave for the mountains early the next morning..."
"She was coerced into saying that," Bellamy interrupted quickly. "Clarke wasn't enjoying anything. Gabriel Cadogan drugged her and abducted her from the party. She's been in his house for the past three days."
Clarke watched Oriana's eyes widen in disbelief.
"That's... absurd! I know Gabriel can be quite disgusting sometimes, but he would never..."
She ground to a sudden halt as her astute mind started to put the puzzle pieces together. "So that's the real reason you borrowed my car, Bellamy. To look for Clarke. And it seems you found her."
She paused, as the truth of it all began to sink in, then her eyes swung to Clarke, still seated in the car.
"This is obviously quite appalling, Clarke," she said, her thin lips pinched together. "Did Gabriel... hurt you?"
"Not like you're thinking," Clarke shook her head.
Oriana frowned. "Still, I'll have to speak with Gabriel myself. We can't have him doing that sort of thing."
"No time like the present," Clarke said. "He's tied up in the back of this vehicle. You can read him the riot act."
"What! Are you two out of your minds! Gabriel Cadogan is a member of the Triumvirate, a leader of this city. I know his behavior was dreadful, but you can't treat him like that. I don't know what it was like where you came from, but we have laws here. And right now, you're finding yourselves on the wrong side of them!"
She motioned to one of her guards. "Daniel, check the car and if Gabriel's in there, untie him at once..."
"You might want to rethink that, Oriana," Bellamy said calmly.
"And why would I do that?" she said, swinging around to face him directly. And although Clarke knew she'd intended the question to be rhetorical, something in Oriana's eyes said she wasn't absolutely sure Bellamy might not have an answer.
"Because what he did to Clarke isn't the reason we brought him here, to you, tied up so he can't get away."
"So what was the reason?"
"Did you bring the tablet?" Clarke asked, and when Oriana nodded, retrieving it from one of her men, she held out the flash drive.
"I think you should take a look at this. It seems you have some traitors in your city."
Clarke saw the disbelief in her eyes, especially when one of the guards cautioned that the drive might contain a virus. She also saw the moment that Oriana made up her mind.
"Bring Gabriel out of the car, but don't untie him."
The guard followed her directions, and when Gabriel emerged and saw Oriana, Clarke could see the tentative relief in his eyes.
Until Oriana grabbed the hardware from Clarke and held it up for his inspection.
"What am I going to find on here, Gabriel?" she asked quietly.
The sudden panic in his eyes was all that she needed to convince her, and Oriana had the guards secure him in their own vehicle before she quickly plugged the drive into her tablet.
After that, it was only a matter of waiting for the shrewd politician to find the right folders. As she opened one file after another, her expression grew more and more distressed.
"Have you looked at this?" she asked abruptly after several minutes of silence.
When they both shook their heads, her lips twisted in a sardonic smile. "Well, you might be interested in the addendum Gabriel's written to his...ah, manifesto, in which he talks about the prophecy child. It seems he particularly had no use for you, Bellamy, once the child was born, although it's likely Clarke would have fared better. Under the right circumstances, of course."
Clarke was incensed. "That son of a bitch was planning to kill Bellamy?"
"Try not to take it personally, Clarke," Oriana said. "There's quite a long section about the difficulties of getting rid of former leaders. My name comes up several times." She paused. "He has some rather ingenious ideas along those lines. Who knows? We may be able to make use of them."
After a while, Oriana closed the tablet and handed it to one of her guards, before turning back to Bellamy and Clarke.
"You did the right thing bringing this information to me. I shudder to think what would have happened in this city if even half the plans Gabriel made had been implemented."
She sighed heavily.
"For now, I'm inclined to let you both leave now and overlook that you tied up and abducted a member of the Triumvirate. Yes, yes, I know why you did it, but I could still decide to bring charges. And I will if I hear you've been telling this story around the city. We need time to contain the situation, make sure everyone is rounded up before we make it public." She shook her head resignedly. "Which we'll have to do, of course. Gabriel will eventually have to pay for his treachery."
"And how long will that take?" Clarke asked, wondering if there was ever going to be a time in her life when she wasn't waiting constantly for the other shoe to drop.
"Not long for the initial charges to be brought. A matter of weeks, I'd think. Meanwhile, don't let me hear that you've mentioned any of this to a single soul."
"Not gonna happen," Bellamy shook his head.
Despite Oriana's stern warning, and implied threats, Clarke felt a certain sense of relief.
Ever since she'd learned what Gabriel was planning, there'd been this sense of urgency, of fear. That this city where they'd all finally found some peace was about to erupt into chaos, and bitter experience had made her certain about just who would have been the eventual losers.
So she was more than happy to butt out, to let others shoulder the burden and deal with the problem.
"Let's go, Bellamy," she said, suddenly weary, opening the door and stepping out of the car.
Forgetting all about her cut feet, and her scraped legs, and her twisted ankle. When she inevitably stumbled, Oriana automatically put out a hand to steady her, glancing down to see what the problem was.
"What's happened to your feet, Clarke?"
"Her feet?" Bellamy rounded the front of the vehicle, nearly knocking over Oriana in his haste to reach Clarke. "What's wrong with your..."
He sucked in his breath as they looked down together, and Clarke would swear that she was just as shocked as he was.
Her feet were an absolute mess, littered with scrapes and cuts, although the blood had mostly dried. Large purple bruises covered both feet, climbing up her legs only to disappear under the thin material of her drawstring pants.
And then there was her twisted right ankle, which by now had swollen to twice its normal size.
Although she would have sworn only a moment earlier that she felt no pain, she'd no sooner had the leisure to recall her injuries than they began to hurt like hell, and a small moan escaped her.
Without another word, Bellamy bent quickly, looping one arm around Clarke's waist and another under knees, hefting her with ease.
"What are you doing, Bellamy?"
"What does it look like?" he said, his voice gruff. "You can't possibly walk on those feet so I'm taking you to the clinic."
They were out the door and into the sunshine before she could say another word, Oriana merely nodding at them as they left.
"Do you really need to carry me, Bellamy?" Clarke asked, taking in the curious stares of passersby as Bellamy rounded the corner of the Government Building and began to cross the plaza toward the clinic.
"I really do," he said. "I had to go out to the middle of nowhere to find you, Clarke. Is there some reason you think I'm going to stop before I get you to a safe place?"
Clarke's heart tripped.
"Okay," she said softly.
They'd reached the door to the clinic by then, but instead of entering Bellamy stopped to look down at her.
"Clarke... I hope..." He paused, began again, his quiet voice earnest. "Look, please don't be angry with Abby for what she did. She was worried sick about you."
But Clarke was already shaking her head.
"I'm not angry, Bellamy. I know exactly what it's like to want to save the two people that you... love the most," her voice dipped and she nearly tripped over the word. "Only to find out that you can't. That you have to choose. One or the other. And then you try to decide which one is less vulnerable."
Bellamy nodded. "I've been there, too, you know," he said quietly.
And in that moment, as she lay in his arms in the late afternoon sunlight, her head tucked snugly under his chin, her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, Clarke felt more in tune with Bellamy than she had in weeks.
Maybe, she thought, there was still a way to make things right between them.