'Once upon a time on a green, green island' - Conclusion
Author: Daenar
Disclaimer: See Part One
From part four:
Harmon motioned for his friends to come over as did Sarah. Clayton greeted them warmly, especially Aine, Harmon noted with a hidden smile. Then he introduced all of them to Sir John and Sir Sturgis. Together, they immediately went to join Magnus and Tobias and set up a joint camp between the two slopes. Then Magnus, John and Tobias would take turns to go and buy food, and all of the others would continuously walk up and down the passage in order to supply the castle. They took turns on night watches and sleeping hours as well. Harmon and Sarah by a general silent agreement always walked together, and no one would do anything but smile contently when they saw them sleeping, Harmon's arms protectively wrapped around his love.
Keeping up a steady routine, they could do nothing but wait until the royal troops arrived. On the evening before the royal army was due, Harmon, stepping out of the passageway, detected movement in Palmer's camps. Obviously they were preparing for a night attack. And they were doing it fast, he judged after having watched them for several minutes. Still, all the preparations took place at the far side of the camp that was difficult to overlook from the castle.
Looking at Sarah and seeing her nod slowly, they were well aware of the risk they were taking when they just put down the empty barrels they were carrying and reentered the passageway. They had to warn the castle's inhabitants. And they had to stand up at their side. They were Sarah's family - and probably Harmon's family-to-be. Running as fast as they could, the pair headed back towards the castle.
The battle was about to begin.
Part Five - Conclusion: (Although fairy tales never end...)
Harmon knew that their presence would be disclosed now but they had no choice. Still, the others did not know how many of them were outside the castle. This fact was kind of a comfort to them as he and Sarah, after having run for nearly an hour and a half through the hidden passage, stormed upstairs, leaving startled servants staring after them and finally entering the great hall.
"Set up your defenses!" Harmon shouted, panting, without so much as a greeting. "Palmer is preparing to attack!"
A stifled cry from Chloe was quickly followed by Baron O'Hara's calm voice swiftly giving orders to everyone. He and Aine's father seemed to have prepared their defenses well because everyone at once hurried to their positions, none seeming lost or panicking.
The dining hall was beginning to fill with women and children while the men hurried outside and manned the fortified walls. Boys and elder men were supplying them with bows and arrows and ammunition for the small catapults that had been erected on several crucial spots of the fortifications. A constant guard was placed in the high main tower. The baron was personally overseeing the preparations, assigning Harmon and Bud to command different parts of their defense action. Harmon was to take the side overlooking the Barrow, from where most of Palmer's activities could be expected. Bud was to cover the rear of the castle, making sure to prevent any surprise attack while everyone would be engaged in the fighting in front.
Finally resolving that they had done everything in their power, Matthew stepped up to Harmon, sighing. "You know that we won't last long against those troops," he said quietly.
Harmon openly returned his glance. "No, we won't," he acknowledged. "But we might just last long enough for the royal troops to arrive. We have to try." 'Or die trying,' he silently added. Matthew only nodded and absentmindedly patted Harmon's shoulder as he went away.
Up from a window, Sarah had followed the exchange. It disturbed her immensely that she wasn't allowed to go down and take an active part in the castle's defense but women weren't supposed to. So she would just help keeping the children quiet and the women occupied, praying that Harmon and her family would be all right.
As if he felt her gaze on him, Harmon glanced up and saw her standing at the window. Both starting at the very same moment, they silently exchanged their now familiar signals, causing each other to smile.
'My heart, my voice and my mind...'
'My mind, my voice and my heart...'
It was then that the first flaming arrow buzzed through the night, falling harmlessly onto the court's dirt floor. Moments later, all hell broke loose.
Aine had started worrying long since. It wasn't like Sarah and Harmon not to join them once they got back. Certainly, she was sure the two of them craved some time alone with each other. But they would never seek it in a situation as this. Finally, she couldn't stand the tension any more and started to climb up the slope. Clayton, instantly understanding what she was up to, followed her.
"Oh my God..." was all he heard her say when he arrived on the hilltop. Looking over to the castle he knew they had no chance. Still, he longed to join Harmon inside the castle. He would not let his childhood friend die without having at least tried to save him.
"Aine," he began, neither of the two noticing his lack of formalities, "Go and join the others. Tell Jack, Sturgis and Magnus to bring our swords and join me here. You go with Father Chegwidden and Tobias. Try to locate the king's troops and have them come to the rescue without resting for the night. They might even arrive at dawn if you make haste."
Aine acknowledged with a nod and turned to climb down.
"Aine..."
She stopped and turned back to face him. "Sir?"
Clayton had no clue why he was doing this but he felt he simply had to. Closing the distance, he cupped her face with his hands and placed a quick, but tender kiss on her lips. "Be safe."
She swallowed, her usual self-confidence wavering for the first time. "You, too," she said in a low voice, holding his glance for a moment before hurrying to execute his orders.
Sarah felt she was slowly going crazy. She had been observing every single move of the battle that by now had been raging for over six hours. Soon the sun would rise and she dreaded what she would see. Their men had fought bravely and stood their ground amazingly long, but slowly their defenses were crumbling. It wouldn't be long until Palmer's troops would have access to the castle.
She had not been able to see Harmon for quite some time and she was craving to know what had become of him - be it good or bad news. The uncertainty was killing her. Just then, an uproar came from the far side of the castle. 'They got in,' Sarah thought, defeated, but not beaten. 'So be it. But they will see me fight before I die.'
A moment later a group of eight men stormed into the great hall quickly forming a defense line in front of the deadly scared women and children, their swords drawn. Matthew, Bud, Harmon, Sturgis, Jack, Magnus, Clayton and Sean O'Meara had left their stations as soon as was clear that their defenses no longer held. At least they would try and defend their families now. Sarah was immensely relieved to find Harmon alive and seemingly uninjured. Although she knew that in all likelihood neither of them would survive the next two hours, she felt an odd comfort that at least they would die together. Stepping over near to where he was, she tried to make her presence give him strength. Harmon acknowledged with a quick half-smile in her direction, grateful she was there.
All became aware that the castle had grown deadly quiet by now. Many of the women and children held their breath, dread and panic distorting their faces that seemed frozen as they now detected footsteps of several men nearing the hall. The knights took a firm hold on their drawn swords. And then they saw him. Smiling viciously, Clark Palmer, self-declared Lord of Leinster, insufferably slowly walked up to them, coming to a halt eye to eye with Matthew.
"So we meet again, O'Hara," he opened the conversation, still smiling, having motioned for his men to stand back. "Only this time I'll make sure it will be the last time we do." With that, he slapped him, his stare challenging the elder man.
Matthew stepped forward, preparing for the fight. He was astonished that Palmer seemed to be up to playing the honorable knight by choosing a man-to- man swordfight. But, on the other hand, Matthew was well aware that Palmer was by far in a better state than he was. Matthew's chances for a victory were small.
"You can have me, Palmer," he said calmly. "But leave my family and people in peace."
'No, uncle!' Sarah wanted to scream. 'Surrender is not an option! You always told me that! Now stick to it!'
"I have you anyway, O'Hara," Palmer retorted coldly. "I'll leave it to my men what they like to do with the ladies. Your men will be executed at noon. Now step forward, you old coward."
Matthew took a few steps into the middle of the room, determined to at least end his life honorably, when someone suddenly spoke up loud and clear.
"Leave him alone, Palmer!"
The aggressor spun around to see a tall man unknown to him slowly walk in his direction, sword drawn. He snorted. "So he's too weak even to defend his own family?"
Harmon came to a halt a few feet away from Palmer, facing him with a deadly calm stare. "No. He would defend them honorably. It's just that he isn't the enemy you're after."
Everyone but Clayton and Sarah was staring at Harmon, wondering what he was implying.
"I appreciate your help, Sir Harmon," Matthew cut in with a slight, sad smile, "But let us just get it over with. It is indeed me he came to seek out."
Harmon flashed him back an odd excusing half-smile. "With all due respect, baron, I don't think so. Although our visitor does not know yet." Turning back to face Palmer, Harmon squared his shoulders. "Baron Palmer," he went on, noticing with satisfaction how the use and stress of his former title enraged the unlawful lord, "I stand up to claim my lands and rightful title that you unlawfully appropriated by extinguishing my family."
Stifled gasps could be heard throughout the hall as Harmon's words sank in. Palmer narrowed his eyes on the tall nobleman. "Who the devil are you?" he asked sharply.
"Sir Harmon Rabb of Penzance, grandson of Maude Isobel Marshall and rightful heir to the Leinster lands." With that, Harmon took off a ring that he had been wearing and tossed it over to Palmer who studied the coat of arms displayed on it. Visibly fighting to keep his rage in check, Palmer then glared at Harmon.
"So be it, Marshall!" he spat. Matthew cleared the way as Harmon now took his place and prepared to accomplish what he had set off for from England.
Slowly circling around each other, Harmon and Palmer waited for their opponent to attack. Suddenly Palmer made a lunge that Harmon parried and turned into a counterattack. Within no time their fight became deadly earnest, one lunge following the other, strike meeting strike, thrust answering thrust, one first chasing the other only to be chased in return. Their skills were matched, Palmer being more aggressive, but less guarded, too, which suited Harmon's calm demeanor of parrying the attacks and waiting for his chance.
Sarah was watching the scene with growing horror. She couldn't bear to see him put his life on the line for the lives of all of them. And for the freedom of his lands. But she understood that he had to finish this alone. All of a sudden, she detected a subtle movement from the corner of her eye. One of Palmer's men kept slowly shifting his position, undoubtedly to get in Harmon's way. Sarah frantically began to contemplate a way to warn him. But it was already too late. Taking a jump backwards in order to escape one of Palmer's thrusts, Harmon tripped over the outstretched leg of the cheater and fell to his back, dropping his sword.
Palmer was instantly hovering over him, his sword pointed to Harmon's throat, grinning evilly. "There goes the heir of Leinster," he commented dryly.
This was Sarah's breaking point. With a cry of utmost rage she flung herself at Palmer, creating the two seconds of distraction that Harmon needed to get to his feet and grab his sword. Palmer spun around to get rid of his attacker, cruelly throwing her to the ground. A searing pain shot through her left arm as her wrist broke when she landed on it. But she ignored it, glad to have saved her knight's life, at least for the time being.
Sarah had sort of opened the battle for general engagement and Palmer's men outnumbered the little group of knights. Harmon felt blood trickle into his right eye from a gash on his temple, blurring his vision. Swearing under his breath, he tried to focus on what his left eye saw. Slowly, the bravely fighting knights were being cornered by the aggressors. Everyone in the room knew that they were fighting a losing battle, as suddenly at least two dozens of other men stormed into the room, immediately taking the O'Haras' side. In a mere ten minutes, it was all over. King Edward had arrived just in time.
While the royal fighters took control of the situation, Harmon and Palmer were still fighting their deadly duel. No one thought about interfering. As long as both swordsmen observed the code of honor, they had to face each other on their own. From the corner of his eye Palmer became aware that the king himself had entered the hall. This was the last time he was distracted. Harmon placed a quick lunge and disarmed and injured his opponent, the sudden pain causing Palmer to drop to the ground.
Panting heavily, Harmon now pointed his own sword to Palmer's throat. Everyone was waiting for the final move but Harmon instead, with a quick movement of his head, motioned for two of the knights to come over and take the aggressor in custody.
"You aren't even worth killing," Harmon hissed, staring into Palmer's face that showed nothing but fury, close to insanity. Harmon pulled back his sword and ran over to Sarah who had drawn herself up into a half sitting position, pressing her broken wrist to her chest, obviously hurting badly but smiling all the same.
"Thank God..." she only sobbed.
Harmon let her lean back into his embrace as he knelt down behind her. "Thanks to you, milady," he answered softly, gently stroking her hair. "From now on my life is entirely in your hands."
Matthew cleared his throat, stepping forward. "Then I suggest you secure him, my niece," he ventured with a mischievous smirk and an uplifted eyebrow, "If Your Majesty consents, that is," he added, turning and bowing before King Edward.
"I do," came the simple reply. "People, welcome your new sovereign, Lord Harmon Rabb of Penzance and Leinster, and his lady-to-be."
Harmon gently supported Sarah as they both struggled to kneel before their king. Instead of telling them to get up, King Edward placed his hands on Sarah and Harmon's heads and started to look around. "Didn't I see a Franciscan friar somewhere?" he asked...
Present time 1218 ZULU Mac's apartment Georgetown, D.C.
Searing pain gradually made its way into Mac's conscious, finally causing her to wake up. To her utmost astonishment, she found herself on the floor next to her bed, her left arm numb if it weren't for the pain that generated from her oddly twisted wrist. 'Damn,' Mac thought. 'Only I could manage to fall out of bed and break my wrist by falling onto it.'
Falling onto it... Instantly the events of her dream came back to her mind. If her arm hadn't hurt so much she would have laughed about the fact that she had been able to insert into her dream world even something as real as an injury. Silently swearing, she got up, cleaned up and dressed best as she could with only one hand and, having to skip breakfast, left her apartment to have her wrist examined at the nearby hospital before going to work. She would feel too ridiculous if she had to call to excuse herself for being late. 'I broke my wrist falling out of my bed...'
1402 ZULU JAG Headquarters Falls Church, VA
Luckily there wasn't a staff meeting today. As Mac waited for the elevator doors to open, she was very grateful that if she had to be injured in a dream, at least it was on a day with no morning appointments.
As she exited the elevator Mac let her eyes exercise a quick sweep of the room, noting that everyone was busy and not looking up. Maybe she could avoid questions about her plaster cast for a little while... Her breath caught in her throat as she saw her partner standing at the far end of the bullpen, gaping at her with just the same incredulous expression that was right now mirrored on her own face. Mac closed her eyes, quickly shook her head and looked again. No, what she had first seen hadn't been an illusion. Harm had a gauze bandage attached to his right temple and was right now staring at her left arm.
Then, still unnoticed by their coworkers, their gazes locked again across the room. Harm's face displayed an expression somewhere in between utmost surprise, disbelief, awe and fear as he, seemingly in slow motion, lifted his right hand first to his heart, then to his lips, then to his temple and, fist closed, finally to his left shoulder, inclining his head, never breaking the eye contact. And Mac saw his eyes nearly pop out of their holes as she, trembling violently, touched her temple, her lips and her heart and finally held her hand out to him, palm up. Time froze. They just stared, unable to comprehend what was happening.
Tiner saved them as he noticed Mac standing at the elevator. "Attention on deck!"
Mac instantly emerged from her daze, called a quick "Good morning. At ease!" into the room and quickly crossed the bullpen. "Commander Rabb! In my office!" she ordered, causing everyone to jump and wonder what the commander might have done this time to upset the colonel in such a way.
Harm shook himself from his paralysis and instantly followed her into her office. She slammed the door shut and closed the blinds. Then the two of them just stood facing each other, much closer to one another than they would normally dare to stand, looking into each other's eyes with an expression of frightened wonder, unsure what to do or say.
"Hurt much?" Harm finally asked, shyly indicating her plaster cast.
"Uhm... no, not too much, thanks. You?" Mac nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Nah... I fell out of bed, you know..." he let his voice trail off.
"Me too."
Silence.
"Mac, I..."
"Harm, I..."
They had spoken simultaneously.
"You first..."
"You first..."
Again.
What the hell! Harm took a deep breath and closed the distance, gathering his Marine into a tight embrace and instantly feeling her body mold against his in silent agreement. Never daring to search eye contact, he mumbled: "What now?"
"Dunno." Her voice was muffled by his uniform jacket.
"Mac, what if..." He breathed to steady his racing heart, "What if we decided to... make our dream count?"
Her grip on his left sleeve tightened slightly and he heard her stifle an audible gasp. She pulled back slightly and forced him to meet her glance. "Harm, are you sure about the consequences?"
"I'm sure about you and me. If we manage to keep it quiet for a while we'll find a solution for the rest." His voice was just a little hoarse.
Mac closed her eyes against the suddenly threatening tears, smiling. If anyone had told her this morning that this would be the glorious day that Harmon Rabb, Jr. let go of his fear and opened up to her she would have laughed in their face. His next words managed to completely crack her composure.
"I love you, Lady Sarah," he said softly, brushing a shy kiss to her lips.
Now her tears were flowing but she just let them. "I love you, too, milord."
Same time Clayton Webb's office CIA Headquarters Langley, VA
For the first time in decades Clayton Webb didn't dare to touch his morning coffee. His secretary had all but fainted when he had asked for a mug of chamomile infusion instead. Clay had woken in the morning, sweating profusely, his heart racing as if he had just crossed the finish line of a marathon. Then images of the strangest of dreams had begun haunting him, especially of a petite dark-haired woman with light-blue eyes that held a challenging sparkle, and with a few freckles on her nose.
He knew he had never met someone who looked like her. Yet she hadn't been the blurred creation of a dream. Far from it. He had seen and memorized her features. He would recognize her anywhere. He shook his head. Maybe all this spook stuff was finally getting the better of him.
The telephone stirred him up from his musings.
"Webb."
"Mr. Clayton Webb? Good morning, this is Aine O'Meara, Irish embassy, intelligence department. We fear we might have a situation concerning IRA involvement in possible attacks..."
Her voice. Her name. Her. Clay didn't really understand what she was trying to tell him but he didn't mind.
"Uhm... Miss O'Meara," he cut in, trying to sound calm. "I think we'd do better discussing the matter personally. Even secure phone lines occasionally grow ears. How about meeting at the Washington memorial in an hour?"
"Okay..." She sounded a little surprised but didn't seem to mind. "How will I know you, Mr. Webb?"
Clay smiled to himself. "Don't worry. I will know you."
THE END
From part four:
Harmon motioned for his friends to come over as did Sarah. Clayton greeted them warmly, especially Aine, Harmon noted with a hidden smile. Then he introduced all of them to Sir John and Sir Sturgis. Together, they immediately went to join Magnus and Tobias and set up a joint camp between the two slopes. Then Magnus, John and Tobias would take turns to go and buy food, and all of the others would continuously walk up and down the passage in order to supply the castle. They took turns on night watches and sleeping hours as well. Harmon and Sarah by a general silent agreement always walked together, and no one would do anything but smile contently when they saw them sleeping, Harmon's arms protectively wrapped around his love.
Keeping up a steady routine, they could do nothing but wait until the royal troops arrived. On the evening before the royal army was due, Harmon, stepping out of the passageway, detected movement in Palmer's camps. Obviously they were preparing for a night attack. And they were doing it fast, he judged after having watched them for several minutes. Still, all the preparations took place at the far side of the camp that was difficult to overlook from the castle.
Looking at Sarah and seeing her nod slowly, they were well aware of the risk they were taking when they just put down the empty barrels they were carrying and reentered the passageway. They had to warn the castle's inhabitants. And they had to stand up at their side. They were Sarah's family - and probably Harmon's family-to-be. Running as fast as they could, the pair headed back towards the castle.
The battle was about to begin.
Part Five - Conclusion: (Although fairy tales never end...)
Harmon knew that their presence would be disclosed now but they had no choice. Still, the others did not know how many of them were outside the castle. This fact was kind of a comfort to them as he and Sarah, after having run for nearly an hour and a half through the hidden passage, stormed upstairs, leaving startled servants staring after them and finally entering the great hall.
"Set up your defenses!" Harmon shouted, panting, without so much as a greeting. "Palmer is preparing to attack!"
A stifled cry from Chloe was quickly followed by Baron O'Hara's calm voice swiftly giving orders to everyone. He and Aine's father seemed to have prepared their defenses well because everyone at once hurried to their positions, none seeming lost or panicking.
The dining hall was beginning to fill with women and children while the men hurried outside and manned the fortified walls. Boys and elder men were supplying them with bows and arrows and ammunition for the small catapults that had been erected on several crucial spots of the fortifications. A constant guard was placed in the high main tower. The baron was personally overseeing the preparations, assigning Harmon and Bud to command different parts of their defense action. Harmon was to take the side overlooking the Barrow, from where most of Palmer's activities could be expected. Bud was to cover the rear of the castle, making sure to prevent any surprise attack while everyone would be engaged in the fighting in front.
Finally resolving that they had done everything in their power, Matthew stepped up to Harmon, sighing. "You know that we won't last long against those troops," he said quietly.
Harmon openly returned his glance. "No, we won't," he acknowledged. "But we might just last long enough for the royal troops to arrive. We have to try." 'Or die trying,' he silently added. Matthew only nodded and absentmindedly patted Harmon's shoulder as he went away.
Up from a window, Sarah had followed the exchange. It disturbed her immensely that she wasn't allowed to go down and take an active part in the castle's defense but women weren't supposed to. So she would just help keeping the children quiet and the women occupied, praying that Harmon and her family would be all right.
As if he felt her gaze on him, Harmon glanced up and saw her standing at the window. Both starting at the very same moment, they silently exchanged their now familiar signals, causing each other to smile.
'My heart, my voice and my mind...'
'My mind, my voice and my heart...'
It was then that the first flaming arrow buzzed through the night, falling harmlessly onto the court's dirt floor. Moments later, all hell broke loose.
Aine had started worrying long since. It wasn't like Sarah and Harmon not to join them once they got back. Certainly, she was sure the two of them craved some time alone with each other. But they would never seek it in a situation as this. Finally, she couldn't stand the tension any more and started to climb up the slope. Clayton, instantly understanding what she was up to, followed her.
"Oh my God..." was all he heard her say when he arrived on the hilltop. Looking over to the castle he knew they had no chance. Still, he longed to join Harmon inside the castle. He would not let his childhood friend die without having at least tried to save him.
"Aine," he began, neither of the two noticing his lack of formalities, "Go and join the others. Tell Jack, Sturgis and Magnus to bring our swords and join me here. You go with Father Chegwidden and Tobias. Try to locate the king's troops and have them come to the rescue without resting for the night. They might even arrive at dawn if you make haste."
Aine acknowledged with a nod and turned to climb down.
"Aine..."
She stopped and turned back to face him. "Sir?"
Clayton had no clue why he was doing this but he felt he simply had to. Closing the distance, he cupped her face with his hands and placed a quick, but tender kiss on her lips. "Be safe."
She swallowed, her usual self-confidence wavering for the first time. "You, too," she said in a low voice, holding his glance for a moment before hurrying to execute his orders.
Sarah felt she was slowly going crazy. She had been observing every single move of the battle that by now had been raging for over six hours. Soon the sun would rise and she dreaded what she would see. Their men had fought bravely and stood their ground amazingly long, but slowly their defenses were crumbling. It wouldn't be long until Palmer's troops would have access to the castle.
She had not been able to see Harmon for quite some time and she was craving to know what had become of him - be it good or bad news. The uncertainty was killing her. Just then, an uproar came from the far side of the castle. 'They got in,' Sarah thought, defeated, but not beaten. 'So be it. But they will see me fight before I die.'
A moment later a group of eight men stormed into the great hall quickly forming a defense line in front of the deadly scared women and children, their swords drawn. Matthew, Bud, Harmon, Sturgis, Jack, Magnus, Clayton and Sean O'Meara had left their stations as soon as was clear that their defenses no longer held. At least they would try and defend their families now. Sarah was immensely relieved to find Harmon alive and seemingly uninjured. Although she knew that in all likelihood neither of them would survive the next two hours, she felt an odd comfort that at least they would die together. Stepping over near to where he was, she tried to make her presence give him strength. Harmon acknowledged with a quick half-smile in her direction, grateful she was there.
All became aware that the castle had grown deadly quiet by now. Many of the women and children held their breath, dread and panic distorting their faces that seemed frozen as they now detected footsteps of several men nearing the hall. The knights took a firm hold on their drawn swords. And then they saw him. Smiling viciously, Clark Palmer, self-declared Lord of Leinster, insufferably slowly walked up to them, coming to a halt eye to eye with Matthew.
"So we meet again, O'Hara," he opened the conversation, still smiling, having motioned for his men to stand back. "Only this time I'll make sure it will be the last time we do." With that, he slapped him, his stare challenging the elder man.
Matthew stepped forward, preparing for the fight. He was astonished that Palmer seemed to be up to playing the honorable knight by choosing a man-to- man swordfight. But, on the other hand, Matthew was well aware that Palmer was by far in a better state than he was. Matthew's chances for a victory were small.
"You can have me, Palmer," he said calmly. "But leave my family and people in peace."
'No, uncle!' Sarah wanted to scream. 'Surrender is not an option! You always told me that! Now stick to it!'
"I have you anyway, O'Hara," Palmer retorted coldly. "I'll leave it to my men what they like to do with the ladies. Your men will be executed at noon. Now step forward, you old coward."
Matthew took a few steps into the middle of the room, determined to at least end his life honorably, when someone suddenly spoke up loud and clear.
"Leave him alone, Palmer!"
The aggressor spun around to see a tall man unknown to him slowly walk in his direction, sword drawn. He snorted. "So he's too weak even to defend his own family?"
Harmon came to a halt a few feet away from Palmer, facing him with a deadly calm stare. "No. He would defend them honorably. It's just that he isn't the enemy you're after."
Everyone but Clayton and Sarah was staring at Harmon, wondering what he was implying.
"I appreciate your help, Sir Harmon," Matthew cut in with a slight, sad smile, "But let us just get it over with. It is indeed me he came to seek out."
Harmon flashed him back an odd excusing half-smile. "With all due respect, baron, I don't think so. Although our visitor does not know yet." Turning back to face Palmer, Harmon squared his shoulders. "Baron Palmer," he went on, noticing with satisfaction how the use and stress of his former title enraged the unlawful lord, "I stand up to claim my lands and rightful title that you unlawfully appropriated by extinguishing my family."
Stifled gasps could be heard throughout the hall as Harmon's words sank in. Palmer narrowed his eyes on the tall nobleman. "Who the devil are you?" he asked sharply.
"Sir Harmon Rabb of Penzance, grandson of Maude Isobel Marshall and rightful heir to the Leinster lands." With that, Harmon took off a ring that he had been wearing and tossed it over to Palmer who studied the coat of arms displayed on it. Visibly fighting to keep his rage in check, Palmer then glared at Harmon.
"So be it, Marshall!" he spat. Matthew cleared the way as Harmon now took his place and prepared to accomplish what he had set off for from England.
Slowly circling around each other, Harmon and Palmer waited for their opponent to attack. Suddenly Palmer made a lunge that Harmon parried and turned into a counterattack. Within no time their fight became deadly earnest, one lunge following the other, strike meeting strike, thrust answering thrust, one first chasing the other only to be chased in return. Their skills were matched, Palmer being more aggressive, but less guarded, too, which suited Harmon's calm demeanor of parrying the attacks and waiting for his chance.
Sarah was watching the scene with growing horror. She couldn't bear to see him put his life on the line for the lives of all of them. And for the freedom of his lands. But she understood that he had to finish this alone. All of a sudden, she detected a subtle movement from the corner of her eye. One of Palmer's men kept slowly shifting his position, undoubtedly to get in Harmon's way. Sarah frantically began to contemplate a way to warn him. But it was already too late. Taking a jump backwards in order to escape one of Palmer's thrusts, Harmon tripped over the outstretched leg of the cheater and fell to his back, dropping his sword.
Palmer was instantly hovering over him, his sword pointed to Harmon's throat, grinning evilly. "There goes the heir of Leinster," he commented dryly.
This was Sarah's breaking point. With a cry of utmost rage she flung herself at Palmer, creating the two seconds of distraction that Harmon needed to get to his feet and grab his sword. Palmer spun around to get rid of his attacker, cruelly throwing her to the ground. A searing pain shot through her left arm as her wrist broke when she landed on it. But she ignored it, glad to have saved her knight's life, at least for the time being.
Sarah had sort of opened the battle for general engagement and Palmer's men outnumbered the little group of knights. Harmon felt blood trickle into his right eye from a gash on his temple, blurring his vision. Swearing under his breath, he tried to focus on what his left eye saw. Slowly, the bravely fighting knights were being cornered by the aggressors. Everyone in the room knew that they were fighting a losing battle, as suddenly at least two dozens of other men stormed into the room, immediately taking the O'Haras' side. In a mere ten minutes, it was all over. King Edward had arrived just in time.
While the royal fighters took control of the situation, Harmon and Palmer were still fighting their deadly duel. No one thought about interfering. As long as both swordsmen observed the code of honor, they had to face each other on their own. From the corner of his eye Palmer became aware that the king himself had entered the hall. This was the last time he was distracted. Harmon placed a quick lunge and disarmed and injured his opponent, the sudden pain causing Palmer to drop to the ground.
Panting heavily, Harmon now pointed his own sword to Palmer's throat. Everyone was waiting for the final move but Harmon instead, with a quick movement of his head, motioned for two of the knights to come over and take the aggressor in custody.
"You aren't even worth killing," Harmon hissed, staring into Palmer's face that showed nothing but fury, close to insanity. Harmon pulled back his sword and ran over to Sarah who had drawn herself up into a half sitting position, pressing her broken wrist to her chest, obviously hurting badly but smiling all the same.
"Thank God..." she only sobbed.
Harmon let her lean back into his embrace as he knelt down behind her. "Thanks to you, milady," he answered softly, gently stroking her hair. "From now on my life is entirely in your hands."
Matthew cleared his throat, stepping forward. "Then I suggest you secure him, my niece," he ventured with a mischievous smirk and an uplifted eyebrow, "If Your Majesty consents, that is," he added, turning and bowing before King Edward.
"I do," came the simple reply. "People, welcome your new sovereign, Lord Harmon Rabb of Penzance and Leinster, and his lady-to-be."
Harmon gently supported Sarah as they both struggled to kneel before their king. Instead of telling them to get up, King Edward placed his hands on Sarah and Harmon's heads and started to look around. "Didn't I see a Franciscan friar somewhere?" he asked...
Present time 1218 ZULU Mac's apartment Georgetown, D.C.
Searing pain gradually made its way into Mac's conscious, finally causing her to wake up. To her utmost astonishment, she found herself on the floor next to her bed, her left arm numb if it weren't for the pain that generated from her oddly twisted wrist. 'Damn,' Mac thought. 'Only I could manage to fall out of bed and break my wrist by falling onto it.'
Falling onto it... Instantly the events of her dream came back to her mind. If her arm hadn't hurt so much she would have laughed about the fact that she had been able to insert into her dream world even something as real as an injury. Silently swearing, she got up, cleaned up and dressed best as she could with only one hand and, having to skip breakfast, left her apartment to have her wrist examined at the nearby hospital before going to work. She would feel too ridiculous if she had to call to excuse herself for being late. 'I broke my wrist falling out of my bed...'
1402 ZULU JAG Headquarters Falls Church, VA
Luckily there wasn't a staff meeting today. As Mac waited for the elevator doors to open, she was very grateful that if she had to be injured in a dream, at least it was on a day with no morning appointments.
As she exited the elevator Mac let her eyes exercise a quick sweep of the room, noting that everyone was busy and not looking up. Maybe she could avoid questions about her plaster cast for a little while... Her breath caught in her throat as she saw her partner standing at the far end of the bullpen, gaping at her with just the same incredulous expression that was right now mirrored on her own face. Mac closed her eyes, quickly shook her head and looked again. No, what she had first seen hadn't been an illusion. Harm had a gauze bandage attached to his right temple and was right now staring at her left arm.
Then, still unnoticed by their coworkers, their gazes locked again across the room. Harm's face displayed an expression somewhere in between utmost surprise, disbelief, awe and fear as he, seemingly in slow motion, lifted his right hand first to his heart, then to his lips, then to his temple and, fist closed, finally to his left shoulder, inclining his head, never breaking the eye contact. And Mac saw his eyes nearly pop out of their holes as she, trembling violently, touched her temple, her lips and her heart and finally held her hand out to him, palm up. Time froze. They just stared, unable to comprehend what was happening.
Tiner saved them as he noticed Mac standing at the elevator. "Attention on deck!"
Mac instantly emerged from her daze, called a quick "Good morning. At ease!" into the room and quickly crossed the bullpen. "Commander Rabb! In my office!" she ordered, causing everyone to jump and wonder what the commander might have done this time to upset the colonel in such a way.
Harm shook himself from his paralysis and instantly followed her into her office. She slammed the door shut and closed the blinds. Then the two of them just stood facing each other, much closer to one another than they would normally dare to stand, looking into each other's eyes with an expression of frightened wonder, unsure what to do or say.
"Hurt much?" Harm finally asked, shyly indicating her plaster cast.
"Uhm... no, not too much, thanks. You?" Mac nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Nah... I fell out of bed, you know..." he let his voice trail off.
"Me too."
Silence.
"Mac, I..."
"Harm, I..."
They had spoken simultaneously.
"You first..."
"You first..."
Again.
What the hell! Harm took a deep breath and closed the distance, gathering his Marine into a tight embrace and instantly feeling her body mold against his in silent agreement. Never daring to search eye contact, he mumbled: "What now?"
"Dunno." Her voice was muffled by his uniform jacket.
"Mac, what if..." He breathed to steady his racing heart, "What if we decided to... make our dream count?"
Her grip on his left sleeve tightened slightly and he heard her stifle an audible gasp. She pulled back slightly and forced him to meet her glance. "Harm, are you sure about the consequences?"
"I'm sure about you and me. If we manage to keep it quiet for a while we'll find a solution for the rest." His voice was just a little hoarse.
Mac closed her eyes against the suddenly threatening tears, smiling. If anyone had told her this morning that this would be the glorious day that Harmon Rabb, Jr. let go of his fear and opened up to her she would have laughed in their face. His next words managed to completely crack her composure.
"I love you, Lady Sarah," he said softly, brushing a shy kiss to her lips.
Now her tears were flowing but she just let them. "I love you, too, milord."
Same time Clayton Webb's office CIA Headquarters Langley, VA
For the first time in decades Clayton Webb didn't dare to touch his morning coffee. His secretary had all but fainted when he had asked for a mug of chamomile infusion instead. Clay had woken in the morning, sweating profusely, his heart racing as if he had just crossed the finish line of a marathon. Then images of the strangest of dreams had begun haunting him, especially of a petite dark-haired woman with light-blue eyes that held a challenging sparkle, and with a few freckles on her nose.
He knew he had never met someone who looked like her. Yet she hadn't been the blurred creation of a dream. Far from it. He had seen and memorized her features. He would recognize her anywhere. He shook his head. Maybe all this spook stuff was finally getting the better of him.
The telephone stirred him up from his musings.
"Webb."
"Mr. Clayton Webb? Good morning, this is Aine O'Meara, Irish embassy, intelligence department. We fear we might have a situation concerning IRA involvement in possible attacks..."
Her voice. Her name. Her. Clay didn't really understand what she was trying to tell him but he didn't mind.
"Uhm... Miss O'Meara," he cut in, trying to sound calm. "I think we'd do better discussing the matter personally. Even secure phone lines occasionally grow ears. How about meeting at the Washington memorial in an hour?"
"Okay..." She sounded a little surprised but didn't seem to mind. "How will I know you, Mr. Webb?"
Clay smiled to himself. "Don't worry. I will know you."
THE END