Temper the Soul
Chapter 21
By zapenstap
Audrey sat in a chair on the balcony and closed her eyes, letting the breeze blow through her hair and caress her face like a soft kiss from afar. This was the same balcony where Damion had first wrapped his arms around her and told her how much he wanted to be with her. She remembered being afraid of his embrace. Her fingers curved around the ends of the armrests and she leaned her shoulders against the back of the chair, wondering what really frightened her. Sometimes she came out here when it was quiet and she didn't want to be bothered. Usually she was came out here to wait. She missed him. It had felt nice to be close to another human being like that, especially one that loved her as he did. That was when she first began to believe he did. Before that she had discounted his efforts to infatuation, fantasy and maybe lust. How quickly the time had gone and how much things had changed. She could still remember the things he had said to her and how she felt hearing them. Of course she wondered how he was doing, if he had received her letter yet. Would he feel the same once he had read it?
She crossed her ankles and rested her hands on her legs, opening her eyes to stare out over the city. She wore pants today, white silk pants with wide legs, much like the blue ones she had worn when she first met him. Her blouse was white too, with only thick straps instead of sleeves. This heat wave was so odd for the time of year. She had not bothered much with her hair this morning, so it hung around her face in dark waves that were not quite curls.
"Audrey!"
She turned, startled at the sound of Terese's high-pitched shout. Standing fluidly, she walked back through the double french doors that led to the balcony and back into the darkened hallway of the palace. "What is it?" she asked.
Terese met her in the hall, eyes and hair equally wild. "The Council Lords have just received a call from Gardiner," she said, pushing hair out of her face and attempting to tuck the wayward strands behind her ears. She blinked large, startled eyes at Audrey. "They stormed out of the council room minutes ago in such a panic, I…" Her hands began shaking. "Oh God. Something dreadful has happened. I just know it!"
Audrey's own heart plummeted out of her chest, and yet, she felt a calmness envelope her. Gently, she grasped Terese's shoulders, steadying her. "Terese. Terese, did they tell you anything?"
"They're not speaking to the staff," she mumbled, grabbing Audrey's hands. "Audrey, what do you think happened?"
"I will find out. Wait here."
Gathering her courage, she moved past Terese and ran down the hall, hoping to intercept the Lords in the north wing. She caught a group of them at the junction, recognizing Alice Millimant, Lady of Wentenshore, Garret Iselin of Northfield and James Cattigan, Lord of Holden as some of the oldest members and most respected members of the Council. Swiftly gliding around them to stand in front of them, she met those three with a level and demanding gaze. "What has happened to Prince Damion?"
"Lady First Choice," Alice Millimant said in way of greeting, her gray hair tied tightly in a knot above her head. Her face was an older woman's face, the wrinkles embedded deep, and there was not even a spark of humor in her eyes. "Please let us deal with this situation. You will be informed of matters when…"
"I will be Queen of Taravren," she countered in as powerful a voice as she had ever used to anyone since coming here. Her eyes riveted to their faces and locked there, daring them to discount her. "When Damion returns." She accented the "when." "Now tell me what has happened."
"You may not," James Cattigan returned acidly. "If he doesn't return you certainly will not."
Her heart trembled, but she did not allow herself to weaken or let it distract her. Instead, she stood her ground, narrowing her eyes. "Tell me what has happened," she repeated, and was glad she was of a height with Alice at least. "I will not faint or spread rumors whatever the news, if that is what you are afraid of. But I do deserve to know. Please," she begged in the end.
"He's been taken," Garret Iselin told her. The others glared at him, but he silenced their disapproval with a glance. "Gardiner has taken him. We don't know where."
She refused to let her mind run in worried circles or to allow herself to imagine more than what she knew. "Has Gardiner demanded anything? What is to be done?"
"He hasn't demanded anything yet," Iselin said, his eyes staring at nothing. "We are more worried he will kill him arbitrarily." He lowered his head when he said it, refusing to meet her in the eyes.
Alice Millimant put a hand to her mouth, her eyes glistening. "I would never forgive myself…" she began, but trailed off. The men looked equally troubled.
Audrey's mouth parted in surprise, moved by their reaction. She knew the Council worked Damion hard and were sometimes callous, but they cared. Of course they did. They had watched him grow up. They all considered themselves his mentors and had been trying to ease him from a boy prince's responsibilities to the requirements made of a king. They loved him exceedingly, even those that did not like him much. Of course the stability of the state was wrapped up in him as well, but they were not worrying about that right now. Or if they were, it was on a different level.
But it was clear they had not decided what to do. "Did he say how it happened? Do we even know for sure if he was taken?"
"Yes," Iseline growled. "We have been sent his circlet, stained with blood, I'm afraid. We are having the DNA tested, but the results will take a little time. In addition we were also sent video, though there was not much to it. He's unconscious in the footage, but very much alive, and relatively unhurt, so far anyway. We don't know anything more, but it is impossible to believe he could be taken without significant force. We have to believe that most everyone guarding him was killed."
Audrey felt as if she had been punched in the gut. Stained with blood? Relatively unhurt so far? She did not want to see the video. "And what did Gardiner say?"
"Just that he had our prince and would contact us later." Iselin's lips curled in a sneer. "The man has a lot of arrogance for a mere rabble rouser."
"Oh, but he hates him," James Cattigan intoned. "And us. He didn't even make any demands. He seemed more amused by the situation, by our shock and distress… The look in his eye… I fear for the life of the Prince, or worse."
Audrey closed her eyes, suppressing her revulsions, her fears, her anxiety, and her love. "Thank you," she said breathlessly, and turned to go.
"Audrey," Alice halted her by her first name. "Do not spread rumors. We don't really know anything."
"I would like to inform Terese of what has happened," she said.
Grudgingly, they agreed.
Audrey made her way back to Terese half in a daze, refusing to think in detail on her fears. She found her in the hallway, leaning against the wall and nervously playing with her hair. The girl looked up when she saw her, and Audrey simply relayed what she knew.
She told Terese none of James Cattigan's fears, but only the basic facts. It was enough by itself. Terese's reaction was difficult for Audrey to bear. She gasped and shuddered and stumbled until she fell into Audrey's arms, demanding assurances that everything was okay and everyone would soon be home. Audrey couldn't give her that reassurance, but she stroked her hair anyway and told her they would do everything they could. Strangely, Terese did not ask the obvious question. Was Manny with Damion or was he with the others, possibly dead? Audrey did not bring it up. She figured that Terese probably knew the alternatives and chose to deny them until they had confirmation on something concrete. Audrey was the type to mentally prepare herself in advance for bad news so that facing it was easier, but not Terese. Holding the girl in her arms and rubbing her back was all she could do, and an experience entirely foreign to her. Her own emotions practically shut down when she considered what could have happened and what might be in store for Damion. She thought about it as objectively as she could. Manny might be dead. Damion might be near death himself, or in pain, tortured, or perfectly fine. Manny could be with him. Anything was possible. She refused to let herself dwell on any one possibility, but she denied none. It wouldn't do to break down now. She couldn't afford it. Damion couldn't afford it.
Especially if she was going to do what she felt she must.
Eventually Terese pried herself out of her grip. "Damion," she said with a smile, wiping tears from her eyes. "He'll be fine. He'll be home soon."
Audrey hoped so, but she could not lie. "Be strong, Terese," she said. "We don't know what is going to happen."
The girl shut her eyes, but she stood up, scrubbing tears from her cheeks.
"But I'm going to go to him," Audrey told her then, setting her face to reflect her resolve.
Terese looked so confused. "Audrey…"
"I know Able Gardiner," she said, staring over Terese's shoulder at nothing. Slowly, she nodded to herself. "I'm going to go to him." If Able hurt him… She closed her eyes and refused to think of it.
When she opened them Terese was just looking at her, her face tear-streaked, but there was hope mixed with the fear in her eyes.
"And I am going to go with you," a coolly composed voice murmured.
Audrey turned and rose slowly, looking over her shoulder. Julia stood in the entryway to the hall, resplendent in a yellow gown, her hair curled and pinned up on her head, ringlets hanging down her face. Little flowers and butterflies nested in her curls.
Julia smiled. "Don't look so surprised. Little happens in this province that I do not know about. I have been studying Gardiner. I have learned a great deal about him." She gave Audrey a pointed look. "Even some small things other might think forgotten."
For a moment Audrey's heart froze over, but then she nodded slowly. Still, she could not meet Julia in the eye.
"I'm coming too," Relena said suddenly, appearing on the other side of her, behind Terese. "I just heard what happened from Lady Une." She seemed to be in control of her face, carefully hiding the fear and worry that lurked in her eyes. "We will all go together. I am sure we will find Heero along the way. Heero will rectify this."
Julia cocked an eyebrow at her. "You certainly do have an uncanny faith in your young man." She smiled. "Though I suppose a gun or two would be useful."
Relena tightened her lips and nodded. Unlike Julia, she also wore pants, but more of the traveling sort, long and durable with a white ribbed tank top. She had pulled her hair out of her face by two strands of braids tied in the back and carried a dark denim coat in her left hand. It actually looked like Heero's coat. "Where do we start looking?" Relena asked.
"The tower," Julia murmured. "Don't worry. I know where it is, though I fear what we may find there."
"I've already gotten us a plane," Relena said grimly. She looked at Terese with a smile. Slinging her coat around her waist, she stepped forward and took the girls hands in hers. "Audrey is right, Terese. Stay strong."
Terese nodded, returning the smile, and dashed tears from her eyes. "I wish I could go with you, but I…"
"No," Julia said with a flippant gesture. "You must remain. I would not have Audrey come if not for her peculiar relation to Gardiner."
Audrey dropped her eyes. Relena gave her an odd look. "Which is?"
Julia began walking, pulling Relena with her by the elbow. Relena's eyes widened. Julia hustled her along without a backward glance. "A matter of little concern other then how it may aid Damion. Think of it that way, Audrey," she added, casting her voice behind her.
Audrey lifted her chin and followed them, catching them at the bend in the hallway. Like Relena, she was unafraid to walk into a war zone, but that didn't mean she was not afraid of what she would find.
Terese walked the other way, setting her shoulders. Audrey hoped she would not find what she feared, but most of her prayers were for Damion, because whatever had happened to the others before, he was the one in peril now.
*****
A rough-shod boot kicked him solidly in the ribs with enough force to move him. "Wake up."
Damion gasped, his eyes snapping open. Instinctively, he moved his arms to block a second blow as he tried to stand up and move away from whatever had assaulted him. Somehow he was caught or entangled and fell to the floor. Grounded, his senses spun back to levels of consciousness, his eyes and ears pulling information about his situation in from all around him. He couldn't stand because his feet were tied up with wire, like metal cable cords. So were his hands. He pulled at them and felt resistance. He was shackled to a wall.
The scent of dirt and damp stone filled his nose and he lifted his head, blinking his eyes to try and get a sense of his surroundings. There was dim lighting coming from somewhere, but all he could see in the room was rock. The floor, the walls, the ceiling were all made of stone, like a dungeon beneath a castle. There was a metal door in the corner, gray like the walls, with no handle or window or mechanism that he could see. It was a large room, too large for just one person.
But there were others, five altogether from what he could tell. One stood in front of him with three men behind, their hands clasped behind their backs.
The man in front of him was barely visible in the gloom of the room, but Damion could make out that he was tall and slender with broad shoulders and darkened skin. Even with that skin color his hair was red, or a reddish brown, though it was difficult to make out color in the darkness. Come to think of it, he could only tell the color because he had noticed it before.
And then memory returned.
Gardiner.
Gunshots.
He couldn't strangle the cry that came from his throat. He bent his head over his knees, clutching it in his hands and squeezing his eyes shut. "Manny!" he yelled, almost unaware of doing so. Images flashed through his head; Manny's face being blown open by a single bullet, such a small thing, yet able to tear through a man's temple and rip his face apart. He smothered the visions and choked down the emotions that felt something like nausea. Surely he wasn't really killed. There would be medics that would come to the scene and it was amazing what surgeons could reconstruct these days. He would pay anything. All the gold in his vault, all the jewels he owned…
He was kicked again, a boot jabbing into his side with a steel-enforced toe. The pain distracted him for a moment and he absorbed it like a sponge absorbed water, trying to flush out the memories that seemed only half-real to him. With the pain he crashed back into reality, transported to the present in a heartbeat. "Shut up and stay still," the man beside him grunted. "Gardiner has words for you." He opened his eyes and swallowed. He was in someone else's power, a place he had never been before.
"Don't talk unless I ask you questions," Gardiner said.
Damion concentrated on breathing and tracing what he could make out of the lines of Gardiner's face. He remembered when Manny fell, what he had done. He could still feel the bones cracking under his hands, could still hear that sickening popping sound. He had taken a life with one blow. He had never done anything like that before. And he didn't care. Looking at Gardiner, he thought he could do it again. But it would never be enough. Not for Manny. The death of everyone in the world would not equal his life.
God, please don't let him really be dead… He didn't want to think about it. His eyes felt hot, but he didn't release any tears, not even the darkness of this room. His limbs shook. He knew what a bullet in the head would do. He had seen the blood pooling on the floor, spreading out from a corpse. He had stepped in it.
He forced himself to ask the most obvious question. "Why am I here?"
Gardiner smiled and thin, wry smile. "It's something I've always wanted," he said, and said it like he had acquired a new toy or a pet. Damion swallowed, letting his mind run over Gardiner's words and actions, trying to get some handle on his personality. He was obviously brilliant, if in a strange, disconnected way, and if he was crazy, he was very much in control of what he was doing. Damion wasn't sure he was crazy at all, or at least not in the medical sense. His humanity was obviously undermined, but his eyes glittered with perfect awareness.
"What happened to the people who were with me?" he asked, but he already knew the answer.
"There was no need to send any messengers," Gardiner told him in a deep, plain-spoken voice, as if that was the only reason not to commit a massacre. "I informed your Council of Lords myself. Why? Did you really care about any of them? They were all just your servants as I understand it." He shrugged. "You could always hire new ones. One thing I've learned is that when you are powerful, you never run out of people."
Damion choked, closing his eyes and trying to bury those words and the images that went with them. They hurt too deeply and he couldn't tell if Gardiner was being serious or if he was mocking him. He was the prince. Could he have said or done anything differently to save anyone? He had the power to order them to do anything. What should he have said? What should he have done? He had told them not to fight. He was afraid they would all be killed if they opened fire in such a small confined space. But now everyone was dead anyway. And Gardiner thought he didn't care? He knew most of those men. He was responsible for them.
"You did have quite the tantrum when Geoffrey shot that boy," Gardiner said in a cool, bating manner. Damion's head snapped up in sudden fury. "I'm sorry you killed Geoffrey. Who was he to you, the boy I mean?"
"My personal servant," he replied through gritted teeth, and shook with the need to stab Gardiner in the face. "Don't you talk about him," he growled, and wished he had not.
Gardiner's eyebrows rose in mild surprise. "Oh? Why not? If you're mad because he's dead, I didn't kill him. Geoffrey did. I really don't see why you would be so upset over a servant anyway."
"I loved him," he choked out, and overcome by sudden grief, couldn't say more.
Gardiner laughed. "Oh, you did? I didn't know you bent that way. Poor Audrey Veron! I almost feel sorry for her."
"No," Damion said, outraged that he was being mocked this way. He loved Manny. He didn't think Gardiner would understand friendship, not what he and Manny had had. But to talk like that…! He knew that Gardiner was only trying to incite him, and it was working, but he couldn't stop feeling pain, and grief and anger. It wasn't what he had said, but the way he said it, to imply something like that just to make him angry, to insinuate that his only reason for his grief was… his love for Manny was so much deeper than that. "He was my friend," his hissed, and couldn't stop angry tears from welling up in his eyes, though he didn't let them fall. Almost thankfully, the rest of Gardiner's words distracted him. "What do you know about Audrey?"
Gardiner's expression was lost in shadow. "Oh, I know a great deal, but you seem upset, so we will discuss her another time. I'm sorry your servant is dead. I didn't know he meant so much to you."
Again, Damion couldn't tell if he was being mocked, but he wanted to spit in Gardiner's face regardless.
Gardiner smiled at Damion and abruptly changed topics. "So you are a prince."
He felt nothing at that, only a dull coldness, and empty feeling he couldn't explain. "Is that the reason you hate me so much?" Enough people had before him.
"I hate you for being you," Gardiner said ambiguously. Even saying such things he carried himself with poise. Whoever he had been, he had confidence and dignity now, as well as money by the look of his clothes. "I hate people like you who are given everything and then worshipped for it. You've never worked a day in your life and you never appreciate what you've got. Do you know where I come from?" He laughed. "Well, that hardly matters. Let me tell you why you're here." Gardiner lit a cigarette, the fire from his lighter illuminating the room and himself clearly for several moments. Slowly, he inhaled and released the smoke from his mouth, his eyes catching Damion's as he smiled a sickly cold smile. "I used to see you when I was a kid, you know. I'll bet you didn't know that, but it's true. I used to steal food from the palace kitchens and I would see you quite often. You were always dressed up, and almost always in company. You even wore that little circlet sometimes. You always smiled and were smiled at and everyone loved you. You never saw me, though. Your eyes slid right over me like I wasn't even there." Gardiner's lips twitched and he tapped his cigarette almost negligently. "I've gone to great lengths to fuck you up, so have a care. It wouldn't disappoint me to just shoot you and be done with it, but that's not really what I want. Still, I will resort to that if you misbehave. In the meantime, it's my intention to break you."
Damion didn't say anything. He couldn't make sense of any of that. "You hate me because I've had a good life?"
"I suppose so," Gardiner said, and added with a mocking twist, "if you're simpleminded. Are you going to cry about it?"
"When I get out of here," Damion said with a glower. "I will kill you."
Gardiner didn't react in any unusual manner. All he did was turn complacently to the man standing over him. "Don't let him sleep."
"Sir?"
Gardiner shrugged. "Do whatever you have to do, but keep him awake. We will continue our conversation later."
Damion felt his breath catch in his throat, but he steeled himself. He glanced at the man beside him, and was alarmed to see him smiling almost in anticipation.
Gardiner looked amused by his alarm, but he held out a restraining hand to his henchman. "Don't permanently injure him yet. I have to think on that before I decide what I want to do." He smiled at Damion. "You think about it too, Damion," he said, and hearing himself addressed so casually made Damion feel decidedly ill. He was terrified and didn't want to admit it.
Without a backward glance, Gardiner strode out of the room, leaving Damion with his unnamed guard. The other three men, who had remained silent the entire time, followed Gardiner out. Damion knew there was only one guard with him because he wasn't a threat. Tied up as he was, like a dog on a leash or a horse tethered to a fence, a child could handle him. But his guard wasn't a child. It was a man who seemed to enjoy hurting people, especially people who could not fight back and could not escape. Heart beating, he struggled in his bonds, hoping to find some weakness in the wires, but he could scarcely move his wrists. For a brief moment, light flooded the room, a thick band of yellow light from the far corner where that panel was. Then the door closed and darkness consumed everything.
Damion felt hot breath near his face as his abuser knelt near him. It was an effort not to pull away. Abruptly, a rough hand clamped over his head, thick fingers digging into his scalp. He gasped in pain, feeling those fingers gouge into a tender spot on the back of his head. The pain was so great he jerked, but he clenched his jaw to keep himself from crying out. "Did you hear that, princeling?" his guard said in a voice laded with threat. "I hope you fall asleep." Damion swallowed, biting his tongue, his chest heaving. The man released him and rose, his booted feet barely missing crushing his fingers. Damion drew his tied hands into his lap and leaned against the wall, staring straight ahead of him into the darkness and trying not to feel as tired as was.
He tried to think what Gardiner would do with him in the end. Perhaps he was to be tortured and returned home a broken rag. Perhaps he was to be made an example of in front of his mob, shot incidentally on a stage where there were television crews to record it for future generations. Then Taravren would be deprived of a ruler. Did Gardiner think that would cause the government to collapse? The crown would go to one of Damion's younger cousins, though the oldest was only thirteen. But the Council Lords would rule until then. Maybe Gardiner had a contact on the inside? Someone who wanted to gain control of Taravren? Damion didn't think so. He knew all the Lords personally. He didn't like all of them, but he couldn't think of a single man or woman whose position would improve by that. Perhaps if he wasn't killed he would be ransomed? God, he hoped not. The Council Lords would pay almost anything…or would they? They would want him back, but would it be shaming to pay a terrorist to have their prince returned like a child? Perhaps it would be better to sacrifice him for the dignity of the country. Or would they look worse for abandoning him? Unless the kidnapping, ransom and exchange were all kept secret, he couldn't see how he could ever go home the same way he left. But would Gardiner keep it secret or go public with his prize? Depending on what he really wanted, it could go either way.
His mind tried to puzzle it out, to seek some sort of hope in this madness. Damion wasn't sure what hurt worse, his body or his mind, so much was going through his head. Manny… He was determined not to break. Slowly, his eyes closed.
Something smacked him in the face and he started awake. "Stop!" he hissed angrily. "I'm awake." His assertion didn't seem to matter. He was kneed in the back. "What…?" Swallowing his cries, he tried to block the following blows with hands tied in front of him, but to no avail. He was hit until the ground came up to meet his face, his head ringing from the steady rain of kicks and punches across his side and chest and back that left him gasping, his face pressed to the floor.
"Be quiet and stay awake or I will do worse," his guard muttered.
Even from where he lay, he felt like laughing. He was a prince. He was a…
He wouldn't be a baby. He'd been weak all his life. Gardiner was right about that. He was wealthy and spoiled and he got everything he ever wanted. For God sakes, his biggest concern in the last few months was wondering when a girl he loved would come to return the feeling, when he knew she had to marry him. All because he wanted her to enjoy sex with him. How trivial. Was that how it had been? He couldn't remember. Never mind that seeing her or holding her would greatly empower him. He tried to see her, to imagine the way her dark hair hung about her pale face and the depth of her eyes, the way he felt near her. He was glad she was strong. He wouldn't worry about her worrying about him. He was more concerned for his mother and for the stability of Taravren and… he knew he was only evading the truth that he was most terrified for himself. But he wouldn't cry about it.
Manny. Manny he would cry for, if he was really… his thought fled the idea, unable to process it in this place, though he told himself he was dead. Still, he hoped he would return home and see him, be welcomed by him, and by Audrey, sweet wife, and Terese.... He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the reality of his situation. Terese. Oh, God. Manny's family. He fought back tears. Yes, he would grieve for Manny, but not here. Not in this place. If he ever saw home again… He closed his eyes.
"What did I tell you about sleeping?" his guard said in a tone wicked with amusement, and the blade of a knife slashed painfully across his arm. The blood that welled up from the cut absolutely horrified him. "Gardiner is not going to be lenient," the man over him leered. "If there's bad news, you will pay for it." The man laughed when Damion didn't answer. He was afraid to speak, and he couldn't stop shaking. "One of these nights," the man said, "I will take pleasure in cutting out those pretty eyes of yours. You won't look much like a Prince then, will you?" It sounded like a promise.
*****
Darkness has descended over the plain by the time Heero, Duo, Trowa and Quatre hijacked a desert jeep and drove out to the tower where Sally told them Damion had been located. Wufei had elected to stay behind. It was unavoidable really. He had a duty to the Preventors to see the mission through the battle that would overtake him by morning if not before. Heero considered his part in the area finished. He wanted peace, but more than that he wanted Gardiner dead or confined. The others were silent about his choice, not clearly understanding how he had come to the conclusion that Damion was Gardiner's target.
On the way there they received the news through the long-distance radio Trowa had with the Preventor station in the area.
"Oh my God," Duo said when Sally relayed the message. Gardiner had contacted Preventor Headquarters and the Taravren Council with the news that Prince Damion Ravineere was in his custody. "Heero, how did you know?"
He kept both hands on the wheel and his eyes on the road, driving at a neck-breaking speed. They sped past friend and foe alike, ignoring all salutation or raised weapons. There were massive people gathering, but they drove through and around them relatively easily as the groups were small. He didn't say anything when he heard about Damion. He had already guessed it. He was only relieved Gardiner hadn't killed him on the spot. That would buy them some time, if Damion was worth saving by the time they got there. Who knew what this madman would do?
"We've known that Gardiner is from Taravren and that he's been inciting a mob against monarchy," Heero told Duo.
"Well, sure," Duo said, "but that's not any real indication."
"When you were stranded in the field, you couldn't get through to Preventor Headquarters or anywhere else but you could get through to Taravren," Heero added.
Duo paused. "Yeah, so?"
"Well why is that?" Heero said. All of his emotions were buried deep. He couldn't let them interfere right now. "It doesn't make sense unless somebody was blocking all of your transmissions except that one."
"You mean that Gardiner wanted Duo to communicate with Taravren?" Quatre guessed from the back, leaning forward with his hand curled around Heero's seat.
"Maybe not Duo exactly. Probably anybody would have trouble."
"But why keep the Taravren line clear?" Quatre said. "To what purpose?"
"To get Damion to go out to the field," Trowa interceded. He was sitting in the back with Quatre, looking out the side of the jeep with his arms and legs crossed. "How many times would you be able to hear people tell you how terrible a situation is before you felt you had to do something about it?"
"I hope this isn't my fault," Duo said, looking worried. "I wasn't asking Damion to go anywhere."
"No," Heero said. "But it wouldn't surprise me if there were people getting through to Taravren all the time. Damion was pretty secretive about it when we were there, though everybody knew he was planning something. I would imagine he received a lot of distress calls. And you know how sensitive Damion is sometimes."
Duo didn't say anything for a long moment. Abruptly he looked ahead and noticed the black mar on the edge of the horizon. "Hey. Is that it?"
"Yeah," Heero said, eyeing the watch tower as they drew closer and closer. He sped up the jeep, racing and bumping over the plain.
"We're too late, you know," Trowa said.
"I know," Heero replied. "But maybe we can figure out where Gardiner went from here."
"At the very least we'll be able to follow his tracks," Quatre said. "The Maguanac taught me a lot about tracking in territory like this. It might take a little time, but we'll find him."
Heero didn't mention that they might not have time. He hoped to rescue Damion before it was too late to do so, but he wouldn't make promises to himself. If he failed in this…
He stopped the jeep near the entrance to the tower, but before he did he already knew he would regret ever coming here. The sky darkened past twilight and the stars poked out of the gloom. The moon shone like a spotlight, gleaming down on the surface of the ground and the stones of the tower.
There were bodies everywhere.
"Shit," Duo said as Heero turned off the ignition.
They all climbed out of the jeep, hands fingering their weapons. Stepping around the bodies of the guards slumped in front of the door, they entered with some difficulty. Once inside, the scent of blood and flesh assailed their nostrils, but wrapping black scarves around their faces they managed to continue, weapons ready in every hand. Quatre looked tearful as they stepped over bodies and Heero tried not to look at faces. He might know some of these guys, or might have known them once.
"Stairs," Trowa whispered, and they followed his lead up a staircase that led to the very top of the tower. On the way they checked every room, more often than not finding more bodies. "Thorough, weren't they?" Trowa muttered.
On the top floor there were the most dead, and by the look of it, a mixture of Damion's guards and Gardiner's army. Those still alive must have gathered here for a final stand to protect the prince, to no avail, or so it seemed. There were no bodies lumped in front of the door. People had passed through it.
Heero led the way, pushing open the door to the look-out room softly. His eyes swept the carnage within and he swallowed heavily, trying not to feel sick. There were other people besides soldiers in here, servants and foreign delegates, people who had nothing to do with…
He snatched the black scarf from his face, yanking it down to his neck and gaping in complete disbelief. "Oh my God," he said.
Duo came to stand beside him, his eyes sweeping over the line of people by the window, all of them shot once of twice in the chest, their bodies collapsed on one another in something like a line of dominoes. But there were a few bodies out of place. One was a man by the wall near the door, a guy Heero vaguely recognized as an officer in Damion's guard. One man on the floor was a stranger, his neck cleanly broken. Beside him…
Duo retreated, retching once in the corner, collapsing to his knees. "God," he said. "I haven't done that since… Oh hell." He got to his feet again, leaning his head against the wall. "Shit. Fuck. I liked him."
"What is it?" Trowa said quietly, Quatre coming up with him.
Quatre was the first to say it with a small, trembling voice. "Is that Manny?" He looked away, regaining his composure with effort.
"It was," Heero said.
In all the battles, in all the fighting, he had never really lost someone he knew. He never took the opportunity to get to know anyone who fought. Manny wasn't even a soldier. He was a servant who had spent his whole life serving someone else without complaint or expectation of recognition. Heero didn't even really know him all that well really. He was just a person who had just always been there, had made his presence felt, and wouldn't anymore. Quietly, Heero knelt beside the body, trying to avoid looking at the parts that no longer looked human. Taking off his jacket, he draped over what was left of Manny's face and lifted his hands over his chest. A corpse's arms felt like weights, lifeless, bloodless. He had never touched a dead body before. He had always let the dead bury the dead. For a moment he just knelt there on both knees, unsure what else to do. The last time he had seen Manny alive was at his wedding. He had bought the ring he had given to Relena. He had fitted him for a tux. He had helped Zechs attend the ceremony.
"Damion," Duo breathed, still looking a little pale. "It'll be like losing a brother."
Heero didn't answer, but he thought it would be more like losing a twin.
"What do we do now?" Quatre asked. "We still need to find Damion if he's still alive."
"Yeah," Heero agreed. He touched the edge of his jacket once and then rose, feeling it hard to leave this building as it was. "These bodies need to be removed, though. Their families need to be informed and…"
"I'll do it," Trowa said. "Will you help me, Quatre?"
"Sure," Quatre said quietly. "We'll contact Sally and start looking for identification." He looked a little sickly saying it, but someone had to do it.
"Duo, will you come with me to find Damion?" Heero asked, staring at nothing.
"Yeah," Duo said. "Of course I will.
Abruptly there was a commotion outside. Duo rose and moved toward the window. "Ah, man. We were followed."
"How many?" Heero asked.
"A few trucks it looks like," the braided pilot said, turning. "What do you want to do?"
Heero blinked and turned to Trowa. "Relay a message to Taravren about what happened here, Trowa. At least we can leave a record. The rest of us will try to take them out before they can take us."
"There's a plane too," Duo said as he looked up into the night sky. "It looks like it's going to land somewhere close."
"A plane?" Quatre questioned. "They sent a plane after us?"
"We'll deal with them as we can," Heero said, and began reloading bullets into the barrel of his gun. "I just hope we have enough ammunition."
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