Tales of Brave Ulysses -- part 9 of The Island of Galleno (Only a man who has felt ultimate despair is capable of feeling ultimate bliss.)

by Isabelle

Rating: R (for cursing, mild nudity, adult situations and violence)

Disclaimers: BTVS belong to Joss Whedon, ME, and UPN they are being used for entertainment, I don't own them. The Count of Monte Cristo belongs to Alexandre Dumas--Spike's journey was taken from the idea of the book and is used in the skeleton of the Series. The title for this part comes as inspiration from Cream's song Tales of Brave Ulysses (from BTVS episode 'Band Candy')

Summary: The moment that Spike finally has Buffy he is vamp-napped by Riley and a new officer, Jack Marshall and sent to the Island of Galleno off the Moroccan coast where all the leftovers of the Initiative are being placed. Buffy frantically looks for Spike but gets news that he was 'accidentally killed' by Jack, who decides to make Sunnydale his residence. The whole thing is Spike trying to get back to Sunnydale and Buffy thinking he's dead. It's filled with exotic places, tons of Original Characters, mysticism, enchantment, magic and love. It takes him years to find out who he is before he can find the one he loves.

Spoilers: Set after Normal Again, Season 6

Feedback: bih80reviews@yahoo.com

Archiving: Carnal Sins, DeathMarkedLove, and Only Time--all others please ask.

A/N: Spike centered Chapter--I know you guys want me to send Jack to the guillotine but hold on *bg*

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You thought the leaden winter would bring you down forever,
But you rode upon a steamer to the violence of the sun.

He was going to die, Spike though lightly as the waves crashed against his small boat. It was 3 o'clock in the afternoon but the sky was completely gray, he maneuvered the yacht with as much skill as Archie had taught him.

But the waves were too strong, it reminded him of that movie The Storm, he couldn't see anything but a few feet in front of him.

The contents of the boat jingled inside as another harsh wave hit the side. He was drenched, his long blond hair getting in his eyes as he spit out sea water.

"I'm still here!" he cried out, this from the man or creature that had won the Cage tournament for 3 years in a row, who was featured by the distant island, mocked by the sea and loved by ghosts of the past. "I'm still here you mother fucker! You can take everything away from me but you can't take my passion!"

Another wave hit the boat and it almost capsized.

Two days he had been at sea. Two days with no sun, all rain and waves, he knew he was veering to the east and that was the way he aimed to go.

"Sod, you!" he screamed at the gods of the sea, wind and sky. "I'm still here!" He grinned evilly. "You hear it, baby," now there were tears running down his eyes along with rain pellets and inhuman sweat. "I'm still here! You bitch!"

Now he didn't know who he was addressing. Was it death, loss, Buffy, angels, god?

There is no God, he told himself.

"This is my price, eh?" he screamed to the howling wind. He heard the crack of the waves and knew he was close. Close to what? Death? He was already dead, in body and spirit.

But his boat was dying. Small and frail against the wrath of the omnipresent.

He jumped down and walked down to the front of the boat, slipping and swaying with the restless sea. He didn't care anymore. He grabbed his bag, just in case he made it. Taking a deep breath he jumped out into the sea just in time... five seconds later a giant wave fell on the boat and crushed it a thousand pieces.

How his naked ears were tortured by the sirens sweetly singing,
For the sparkling waves are calling you to kiss their white laced lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Archie sniffed out the air. Something was off.

The leaves were moving in a restless way, the air was thick and dark. He didn't like it, he didn't know what it was but he didn't like it. This wasn'tt normal, he'd never felt like this before, not in this island at least.

The storm had moved east a few hours ago and all was wet and soggy. But this wasn't a natural storm. Something was here... something foreign.

He went into his hut and closed his door tightly, closing the shutters on the windows. This was not normal--vampires didn't get shaken to the core like this.

He blew out all of his candles and sat in the darkness with his sword next to him. Smoking his pipe and simply waiting....

On the other side of the Island of Galleno, in Puerto de Tierra the wind blew unnaturally...in a way that would only blow at La Palchera.

The demons stirred, the vampires hissed, the humans hid.

Something was disturbing their way of life, life they had become accustomed to and didn't appreciate it being changed.

In the dark of the night the most unexpected thing happened.

The electricity was shut off--the island was a black pit of desolation.

No one breathed. Not a single breath.

Archie smirked in the darkness and took his pipe out of his mouth.

"Three hundred and sixty years in this earth... god speed, William."

The last words of the night before the bomb was dropped and the island was setup in flames.

The jet flew away from the scorching fire, the captain nodded to the soldier next to him.

The soldier picked up the transmitter. "Sir? The project has been terminated."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy flipped the channel non-caringly the same thing was on every channel.

"United Nations authorities are not releasing any comments about the explosion last night by the Straight of Gibraltar. The island was a site for government weapon testing and it was accidentally completely destroyed last night in an fluk experiment. No one was killed since the island was always completely evacuated nightly. The UN is said to have lost decades of weapons research and exploration. Regardless --the famed Island of Galleno is no longer there, a loss, some say to the historic community. This is Lisa Bentley reporting live from New York."

Buffy turned off the news. Who cared about some government island, she thought as she snuggled into her bed.

Her son next to her stirred and she held him close, kissing the top of his head.

Jack, of course was in some dinner meeting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And when your fingers find her, she drowns you in her body,
Carving deep blue ripples in the tissues of your mind.

Spike didn't know when exactly he lost consciousness. All he knew that when he opened his eyes there were men all around him, looking down at him.

He groaned and tried to stand up. "Where am I?"

One of the ones dressed in black spoke. "You're in Damasca, Sheik Nabils' fishing boat...we found you a few hours ago, you were about to roast in the sun."

Spike blinked at them and he realized he was in the lower quarters of the boat.

"It's rare to find a vampire in these parts... they stay away from the sun." he said.

Spike sat up and instinctively looked for his bag. "My bag?" he asked desperately.

"It's here, friend--calm yourself." The others remained quiet.

"Thank you," Spike said in Arabic.

Some of them stirred. "And educated vampire?" the man in black asked him in his language.

"I've been taught well," Spike responded.

"The master will definitely want to meet you, friend." The man in black handed him his bag. "Here. Come, we have some blood."

Spike nodded in thanks. "Much obliged to you."

From that moment on Spike spoke only in Arabic to his companions as they set sail to the port-town of Safi.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The tiny purple fishes run laughing through your fingers,
And you want to take her with you to the hard land of the winter.

It took them three days to reach port, the weather was terrible and made traveling hard. "Bad months," the sailors would comment.

Spike said nothing of himself, but he had seen that he was the only demon on board, the rest were men. Men that did not fear him and he wasn't planning on biting any of them, nor was he going to take the time out to analyze why exactly his hunger was diminishing. He had more important things on his mind.

The map in his bag had gotten soaked and ripped in half but he had looked at that map every day for the past two years, he knew it like the back of his hand.

Much like he knew books by memory, symphonies, and plays. Anything he had been able to get his hands on had been worth it, worth reading.

He often wondered if his brain would collapse out of so much reading, but it hadn't. He never stopped and thought about why this hunger for knowledge was breeding within him, maybe it was that when he was reading he was not thinking of Buffy or of Sunnydale or the bastards that had ruined his life.

He knew how to read, write, and speak in German, Spanish, Arab, Chinese, Italian and three different demon languages.

Latin and French he already knew when he was human and for some reason he had never forgotten. Archie had been astounded by his ability to learn quickly. The older vampire had concluded that the demon mind was three times as smart as the human one. It was much more perceptible to change and therefore it was much more dangerous.

Dangerous was right. At times Archie would tell him that he breathed fire. Fire and hate.

He lived in it.

Out on the sea his hate could disappear, though. As he stood looking out into the expanse of the Atlantic sea. He was far away from home... very far away.

"The sea is angry," Talsi, the sailor in black who knew English yet always spoke to Spike in Arabic.

"Why is that, you think?" Spike asked, though he was not really interested.

Talsi looked at him and grinned. "There is much pain in you, vampire. May Allah take your sorrows away."

Spike stubbed out his cigarette and smiled. "There is no god for me, mate."

Talsi chuckled. "Pain can be blinding. Soon we'll meet with Nabil... the most wisest of them all."

Spike watched him walk away. This was not exactly his plan but he really didn't have anything better to do... he might as well stick around. Stick around until he could gather enough men to go out with him to the desert.

Kabira Palace was located in what Spike presumed to be the outskirts of the Safi. They traveled for a good forty five minutes in fancy jeeps and trucks, that brought in the goods to the palace.

The desert was pleasant at this time of year... or as pleasant as one might expect--so the sailors said. But they were anxious to get back to the sea. Not Spike, he had seen the sea long enough. He like the feel of solid ground beneath his boots.

They arrived at the palace around 4:30PM, the sun was setting behind it so it covered Kabira in a soft orange glow, making the air taste saltier. Spike gasped at the sight before him. There, in the middle of the desert was the palace.

It was really a palace. Nearly three stories high, with many turrent windows, round and pointy to the sky.

Desert flowers grew from every balcony and women in silken clothes wondered about, carrying food, escorting children and cleaning. There were also guards by the gates.

They all had AK-47's and made sure noone got by that was not accounted for. They eyed Spike nastily but Talsi assured them that he was safe and a friend.

When the jeeps went up the driveway many women ran outside, their faces covered though their midriff was completely showing... whether it was perfectly shaped or chubby they showed it of and the men that jumped off the jeep delighted in them.

"Arabian women..." Talsi told him. "With their thick black hair and enchanting eyes are the most beautiful of them all."

Spike chuckled after him and they got off and went inside the palace.

Spike didn't see out of the corner of the top balcony a woman dressed in turquoise green, her face hidden, save her eyes. She smiled as she saw Spike enter the palace.

Her name is Aphrodite and she rides a crimson shell,
And you know you cannot leave her for you touched the distant sands.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The main hall was decorated as if a party were being had.

"Nabil spares no expense for when his sailors come, he always gives us the best," Talsi told Spike. Spike's mouth watered at the array of foods served in the main dining hall. Everything from chicken, to boar to snakes, to crocodile to all types of seafood.

"What is he, some type of sheik?" Spike asked moving to the side as a servant who carried fresh bread almost toppled on him.

Talsi laughed. "Aside that he owns part of all the major petroleum companies in Saudi, he's also the main demon supplier for Arabic antiquities. You know, the stuff they would sell in Magic Shops."

Spike got a brief vision of demon girl and the whelp being excited when he brought rare and expensive things to sell at their shop but shook the image from his brain. "So he's a demon then?"

"No, friend--he's very human. But smarter than most--that's why he's survived so long. But he's also a Prince."

"Royalty," Spike murmured under his breath.

Laugher was heard down the hall as Spike and Talsi took seat on round large cushions made out of silk and feathers.

"He's coming," the Arab man whispered to Spike.

The vampire leaned back and watched as more women came floating out and in midst of them all a large man come out, clad in silk pants and an open shirt that showed off his large round belly and hairy chest. His gray beard came down to his nipples, his head was wrapped in a white turban and there were large gold earrings on his ears. He didn't lack gold rings or bracelets either and he entered the room laughing and smiling.

"Salám, my friends!" he laughed and greeted his sailors.

Spike watched with amusement as Nabil sat himself in a throne-like chair as women flocked all over him.

"Come," Talsi tugged on Spike's arm as he walked towards the front of the room. Spike followed suit as they walked to stand in front of Nabil.

Talsi got on both knees and bent down, letting his forehead touch the floor three times. He whispered things that Spike could not understand.

Nabil looked at Spike with interest. Spike was not bending his knee for anyone.

Talsi stood next to Spike and glared at him, almost expecting his head to be chopped off.

Spike stood, remembering all of the sudden all the things that Archie had taught him. Back straight, had bend behind him in a proper English court fashion, neck stretched and eyes looking at the Prince evenly. He courtly bowed--the way they did in England.

Nabil studied the vampire and there was a calm silence throughout the room. No one made a sound as the vampire stared directly at the Prince, waiting for his next move.

Nabil studied the brave vampire.

Then he laughed and moved his hand for Spike to come forward.

"What is your name, oh brave one?" Nabil asked as Spike shook his hand.

"I was born William Perling III, but after my turning I became Spike." Spike nodded.

Nabil looked pensive and then smiled. "William the Bloody!"

Spike chuckled. "Yes, your highness."

Nabil laughed. "Well Allah is be praised, bringing William the Bloody to my home!" He laughed again. "You shall dine with me tonight and you shall be welcomed in my house for as long as you desire. What is mine is yours, my friend."

Spike had to smile at his luck.

Nabil clapped his hands. "Dress Lord Perling in the finest silks!" he told his servants. Spike stared at the servants and then followed them down to the rooms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

William looked at his mother with pleading eyes.

"No," she repeated.

He was stubborn like Spike was and sometimes--most all the time--it almost slipped 'you're just like your father'.

"I wanna!" he insisted.

"William Jacob Marshall I will not have this discussion with you again!" She said.

Xander sat next to her and looked around uncomfortably. "Buffy give him a break." he whispered.

William heard him and smiled broadly at his mom.

Buffy turned to glare at her best friend. "Xander," she hissed.

The man ducked into the kitchen.

"You're wearing the suit daddy bought you--we are going to be late for the party." she said, and look his small arms, dragging him to sit him on his bed.

William cried out and arched his back on the bed and started howling and crying.

Buffy ignored his tantrum as the boy got nearly blue in the face and started dressing him.

He kicked and slapped and moved his head from side to side. "NO! NO! NO! Hate daddy!" he sobbed.

Buffy's heart broke but continued holding his legs down.

"I wanna wear black shirt!" he sobbed.

Buffy continued getting his little hands through the holes of his white shirt. He wriggled until she couldn't take it anymore and slapped her palm against his upper thigh.

William stopped crying and looked at her with wide blue eyes. Small trickles of tears started going down his little face, his bottom lip trembled and the three year old scooted back in the bed and drew his knees up to his chest.

Buffy felt an instant pang of guilt.

"Baby... I'm sorry... but you have to dress nice for daddy's important party," she pleaded, trying to reach him.

He buried his head in his little knees and started to cry.

"He's not daddy..." he sobbed over and over.

"William don't say that!" she cried and pulled him to her, despite his protests. She cradled his head to her chest and rocked him back and forth.

"Buffy?" Jack's head came through the door way. His eyes narrowed as he saw that William was still not dressed. "We're going to be late."

Buffy looked at her husband and sighed. "He's not feeling well, Jack... perhaps we should let him stay with Tara--she won't mind."

William's face lit up at staying with his aunt. "I want Tara!"

"No! He's going! The press is expecting to see my entire family!" he cried. William whimpered in his mother's loving embrace.

"Jack, please--"

"This is not for discussion! He has to learn to obey. Get dressed NOW, William!"

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Spike looked down on himself. He was dressed in black. From head to toe in Arab wraps. If he could only look at himself.

"Here, m'lord--" one of the servants told him and Spike looked at the large mirror they had before him. "It's a magic mirror--your reflection will be there."

Spike walked cautiously to the mirror and saw himself for the first time in over one hundred years. He was clean cut and shaven and though his hair was no longer peroxide blond it was it's natural dirty blond color. He looked sharp dressed in all black, but most importantly... he looked powerful. Like a Lord.

"Very nice." he murmured.

"Very nice indeed," a voice behind him said.

He quickly turned around to find a woman.

A woman dressed in turquoise wraps, with her perfect mid-drift showing. Wavy, thick black hair cascaded around her and although half of her face was hidden behind a conservative veil he was hypnotized by perfect almond shaped green eyes that held his own.

"Good evening," he managed to choke out.

She smiled, he could tell by the twinkle in her eye. "You must be Lord Perling." Her voice was soft and rich, almost hypnotic.

He swallowed. "Spike is good."

"Lord Spike?" she asked, a small chuckle.

"Spike--plain and simple." he insisted. "And you are?"

She smiled again and walked around him. "Fadma..."

"Fadma," Spike repeated.

"Princess Fadma," she added.

Spike smirked. "The princess makes the difference."

"And so does the Lord."

"What is a princess doing here?" he asked as she stopped in front of him.

"My father... Prince Nabil... you met him." she said.

Spike gulped. "You're the head honcho's daughter?"

"One of them," she answered.

"One of them?" he arched his brow.

"I have eleven sisters and seven brothers... I'm the youngest of them all... of the women that is."

"Daddy's little girl," he smiled.

"Oh yes," she purred and extended her hand. "I am to be your escort my lord."

Spike eyed her carefully and tentatively took her hand. "I'd be honored."

With tales of brave Ulysses, how his naked ears were tortured
By the sirens sweetly singing.
The tiny purple fishes run laughing through your fingers,
And you want to take her with you to the hard land of the winter.

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TBC....

(Don't start the Fadma trashing yet... give her some time *g*)