Blood Moon

Sydney Alexis

XV

Silence can be tangible. I felt it burrowing deep within the marrow of my bones. I felt it in the emotionless stare of the guards that shadow my steps and the villagers that eye me. Clipped words are favored in lieu of complete sentences--fear of lashings brought when in Crycus' presence too long. Fear borne of reputation and conditioning. All of it justified.

From the moment word came of the impending arrival of Solomon's men, my mood changed. Careful, precise thoughts became clouded and my body felt weary. By ancient edict, my role of knight would have been passed down to my successor by now. I'd seen nearly thirty five winters--more than half the normal life length of a man. Advanced age and a litany of self-healed wounds brought twinges of pain I'd never known in my youth. Pain that slowed me down. Pain that saw some men fit only in the capacity of advisor. Temperature extremes exasperate these--ranges seen daily in this place. Despite the rigorous training and endless hours of preparation, I still felt ill at ease. I'd grown too content in this place. Rested too long not to notice that my life lacked any real cohesion. Years of travel without roots. Ties that bound me to the land for only brief rests. I'd been here longer than I'd been anywhere else, and I'd broken my cardinal law...

A warm hand covered my shoulder. A bold, familiar touch that would only be dared by a select few.

"I take it the carriage has yet to arrive."

There was a hint of amusement in her voice. A joke between the two of us. I offered her a weak smile which she returned before slipping her arm into the crook of mine.

Kathryn and I stood in the palace entry, enjoying a moment's respite, watching the rain pour down through open doors. It fell upon the land in drenching sheets, saturating the soil, turning dirt into mud and mud into a quagmire. In a place where rain was an infrequent occurence, it seemed like a fit setting for our forthcoming march toward the mead hall that evening. There, we were to meet with men that saw the rain as common as this 'mission' to retrieve Crycus' men. They had no idea what was coming. None of us did.

From the depths of the byre, my stablemen located the dignitary's coach Crycus had ordered be made for his journey to survey his lands leagues ago. It was made of unpainted hardwood from the heart of Britannia, carved with roses vines, the Greenman, the Goddess, and Hermes, the patron god of travel. The interior had been ravenged by time and lack of upkeep--a fact that I railed the attendant for. White, silk encased cushions were stained by animal droppings, and spiders and rats had burrowed into the stuffing leaving it unusable.

I cursed my lack of concern with what I perceived to be minor details and what Crycus would have seen as a 'need.' It was unseemly and common to have your wives arrive on horseback. However, my lack of attendance to such an event as anything but security or an assassin had left gaps in my knowledge base. It was for that reason that I found Kathryn's knowledge of proper conduct invaluable. While the other wives perceived the overriding stress of impending war as a cause for my apparent lack of concern for minor points, Kathryn saw fit to deal with small matters that she could attend to and bring all others to my attention--details like our mode of transportation to this infernal event.

Which lead me to that morning's quandary...I stood in the byre, looking over a carriage that reeked of foulness. The stablemen stood beside me, visibly shaking as he awaited his punishment. Meanwhile, I stood looking at the carriage, breathing through my mouth to avoid the smell, trying not to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

In need of transportation befitting a man of Crycus' known decadence, I ordered the padding ripped from the seating, the entire carriage to be cleaned, incense burned inside to remove the smell, and cushions to be made. I made a hasty exit from the byre, stopping only to utter a strict reprimand.

"Are you worried about tonight?"

Now, as we rode toward the mead hall, the girls perfectly coifed, draped in expensive gowns, giggling at how the heavy sandalwood smell in the air reminded them of temple, I was finally able to let my anger of the morning go. Anger would soon be replaced by fear as we neared the mead hall, however. Fear of being discovered. Fear of slipping in front of Harry.

"All you need do is make an appearance, annoy them, and then leave," Kathryn had reminded me as we loaded into the carriage. I smiled at her and nodded, holding out my hand to assist her up onto the step.

I'd been in the mead hall several times before that night. Each time was a morale booster for the men. A 'thank you' for all their hard work. The liquor flowed rapidly. The whores worked the room, and the atmosphere was drunken splendor. The men told tales that would fill the room with raucous laughter.

Perhaps I allowed one too many of those nights-- for my own sakes as well as for theirs--but, in the end, my troops were conditioned to my banner alone.

Those drunken nights of glee were but a dim shadow of the 'festivities' today. There was a deep solomness to the way that they sat, shoulders hunched, hands clasping their mead as a lifeline. Talk came only in low tones and only sporadically. Yes, they were eating and drinking but it seemed like they were merely going through the motions. Their eyes kept darting to Solomon's men, realization that war was upon us. I made a mental note to speak with them all. Rally them. After all, it was my hand that helped train them. They were not disposable swordsmen to me as they were to Crycus. They were my hope for escape should things go badly in my 'homeland.'

When we had arrived--fashionably late as expected--the room fell deathly quiet and all those gathered stood. Of course, there was trumpet fan fare and an overdressed harold to announce my presence (as if arriving with six wives wasn't oustentatious enough!)

Old ways and new dictated I was to greet high ranking officials first, introduce any important members of my entourage--advisors, lieutenants, and wives--then be seated at the head of the table with the other party's leaders. It was then and only then that the army would be permitted to sit, and the musicians begin playing once again.

I was reminded of the rules of conduct by each wives on the carriage ride. I was tempted to tell them what I thought of all this frilly niceties--hang them. Names were always something assistants were supposed to remember. Generals and lieutenants only took enough time to learn potential threat's names. Everything else was fodder. Handshakes, bowing, arm clasping will always be as useless as all the words before and after them.

I regarded the sullen looks and shook my head. Hang the pomp and circumstance. I was Crycus after all. When did I ever do what was expected of me? I nodded my head at the musicians to resume playing.

"Gods above! It's like a funeral in here!"

My men laughed, Solomon's glowered, and my entrance was officially made.

My wives followed me to the head table where Harry was trying to hide his amusement. Beside him stood his four lieutenants. As I approached, Kathryn slipped her arm into mine and offered a smile. As my favored wife, it was her place, and her right to stand beside me.

When I arrived at Harry's side, I nodded at him, giving him permission to engage me in conversation.

"Good evening, Lord Crycus," he lowered his head and bowed deeply. The movement was the first I had taught him because Solomon perceived it as the most important.

"Sir Harold," I replied, bowing in kind.

"May I present my favored wife, Kathryn, daughter of Edward."

I watched him register surprise at her. Her colorings gave away her heritage.

Kathryn offered a smile. "So good to finally meet you. Crycus has told me much about you."

This surprised Harry enough to register on his face. I smile and nod.

"Your skills with a sword and bow are quiet well known; it isn't every day Solomon manages to net a worthwhile fighter."

"I was well trained by my master," Harry replied without a hint of ego.

"Oh? Who is this master of whom you speak? Perhaps I have crossed blades with him."

I was glad for the veil protecting my face as I spoke to him; I knew that the smirk on my face would have given me away. That and the fact that Kathryn's grip on my arm had increased ten fold.

"I studied under Sir Thomas of Atreus." As Harry spoke, his eyes dropped. Almost a mournful tone colored his voice.

"Tragic end that," I replied after a beat. Harry eyes dashed to mine, judging my sincerity.

"I heard you killed Proteus, the man that assassinated Sir Thomas. I am indebted to you."

Harry spoke this with a completely blank face. I waved a hand as if it was an unnecessary statement.

"Actually, it was Kathryn here that managed it."

Harry turned his gaze on Kathryn. This time it was more than a perfunctory glance. I could see the wheels turn and I knew he was reevaluating her.

"I am surprised that you heard of Thomas or Proteus' death. Both names have long been forbidden in Solomon's domain," Harry replied, fishing for more information.

"That still doesn't stop the gossips," I explained, allowing humor to fill my voice.

Sorteria cut in, wrapping around my left side and smiling broadly at the assembled. I kissed her on the cheek, choosing to ignore the boldness. From my side, she peeled off, followed by the remainder of my wives to greet my army and give Harry and myself a chance to speak.

"Tell me, Crycus, how do you keep up with all of those lovely concubines of yours?" One of the lieutenants acerbically voiced.

"They are my wives, not my concubines," then turning to Harry, "I find myself reminding your party, once again, that I expect respect from your men. Had you not come into this hall under a banner of peace, I could cut out your man's tongue. "

I paused to allow this to sink in before plunging ahead. This time I was sure to speak loud enough to have the hall pick up and echo my words.

"I don't expect you to like or to join us in customs. I do, however, demand you show due honor to myself, my wives, and all the people of my lands. Am I clear?"

"You speak as if you are the king, Lord Crycus. I remind you that you are only a knight given charge of Solomon's protectorate," the same man replied.

I bit my tongue, hand resting on the hilt of my blade. I could feel the variable thump-thump of my heartbeat and the tangible silence of the room.

"You're right. I am a glorified knight, but I am one who is trusted enough by Solomon to oversee his most profitable port. I was the person he asked to raise an army, and I am the one whose eccentricities Solomon puts up with solely because I am so successful at filling his coffers."

Again, I paused to let my words sink in, and to finish ringing in the hall. I took deliberate time to look to my left and right. "Perhaps my eyes are deceiving me, Murdock, but I don't see your army anywhere."

It was following this heated statement that Kathryn chose to return to my side, taking my hand in hers and weaving her fingers through. She was careful to whisper soothing tones. To outsiders, it looked like nothing more than a wife preventing hand-to-hand combat in the beautifully decorated mead hall. To me , it was her clear attempt to keep me forming 'outing' myself to Harry. I sighed and took a step back from Murdock. My eyes found hers, surly dismissing the man the way that Solomon had done to me a thousand times over.

"The main course is prepared. Should I signal the Boar's Head Fanfare?"

I nodded, allowing myself to be drawn away to my seat. The beast was delivered to our table with all the flare that was required of such a meal, and we sat eating and making small talk. All six wives were making a great effort to gloss over the effects the 'incident' had on the conversation in the hall.

I glance to my left. At the end of my table, Annika was seated, quietly chatting with one of Harry's lieutenants. Beside them is Neelix who is happily eavesdropping on their conversation while turning out Sorteria, Constance, and another lieutenant's conversation. Guessing by the slight blush that the lieutenant has taken on and the deep one that Constance is wearing, I could hazard a guess as to what Sorteria was blathering on about. As is customary in such events, Harry sat directly beside me.

"I am sorry for Murdock's words. He often speaks out of turn."

I nod slowly, taking in Harry's appearance once again-- eyes dull and always scanning the room, hands covered in callouses and scars, movements were precise. Christ he looked like a warhardened general.

"A leader is only as strong..." I began

"...as the man inside," Harry finished, eyes narrowing. "Where did you hear that expression?"

I shrugged, smiling at my own slip.

"Something I picked up along the way."

Harry nodded. No doubt trying to recall hearing if Thomas and Crycus had ever met. I needed to distract him.

"Tell me, Harry, did you ever marry?"

I watched as the man beside me grew still, his spine straightening perceivably. My words seemed to trigger a quick change in the man. One that I was not expecting. Granted, I had kept loose enough tabs on my former protege to know that he had yet to take a bride, but I was not expecting him to act as though it were a sore spot

"No."

His reply was curt. His eyes flared danger and an underlying message--don't pressure me on this issue. Of course, Crycus is known for being somewhat of an infuriating man...

"Pity. Marriage can be a blessing."

Or an incredibly heavy burden, I thought to myself.

"Someone who knows what you're thinking without words," I continued, gesturing toward Kathryn.

And they and others can use that knowledge to hurt you.

"Haven't met the right girl? I could arrange something..."

Harry cast an unreadable expression. "That is not necessary, Lord Crycus. It has been and always will be my choice not to take a bride. Marriage may be as wonderful as you suggest, but it is also a vulnerability."

I nodded my head absently, taking a deep draught of the wine. It was the answer I knew he would give and the very one that I didn't want to hear. At least he had learned from my mistakes...

The night wore on and finally enough time had passed to make leave of the festivities. All but Kathryn stayed under Tuvok's care, waiting to see if too much ale loosened tongues.

I, on the other hand, retired immediately to my bedroom, and sat woodenly on the edge of the bed. I was glad to have it there because I felt as though my knees may give out beneath me.

Heaving a sigh of relief, I busied my hands in my hair, finally free of the evening and of Crycus. I closed my eyes, recalling training sessions long past--teaching Harry how to hold a sword, deflect an arrow, and how to interact with those in power. That Harry had been incredibly young and inexperienced. He smiled broadly at everyone that offered a kind word. Every new skill and experience seemed like an adventure.

Reconciling the difference between the Harry that I had known and the hardened man I spoke with tonight was difficult. This man stood tall, his eyes scanning for weakness. He spoke with clipped sentences and never without being prompted. He didn't smile, and his stare seemed devoid of emotion. There was scars, too. One above his right eye that ran into his hairline. Another on his swordhand. It was a light pink that suggested he'd received it years before. His nose had been broken once and not perfectly set.

I sighed deeply. What had become of him? What had he witnessed to make him this way?

Light footfalls echoed in the room approaching, hovering, and then finally coming to rest in front of me. Kathryn stepped between my knees, sinking to the ground. She wove her fingers through my hair. I sighed, turning into her touch, absorbing the comfort that she was willingly offering.

"I should have asked him to come with me."

"And if he hadn't?"

I paused, considering it briefly. "No. He would have followed. He'd have seen it as some great adventure."

"And if he had been killed while on one of these 'trips?'"

I cringed at her euphemism. 'Trips' to assassinate key figures.

"You're not sure you would have become Proteus if he had come with you." A beat "And you knew what you were doing when you left him."

I lifted my head, searching her face for understanding. She nodded, folding her hands in her lap.

"I wanted him to have a chance at a normal life. A wife. Children."

"Because seeing what happened to your family would have been such a strong push toward settling down." she said, sarcastically.

I glared at her, not believing those words had actually come from her mouth. My stare did nothing to soften hers; it only made her switch tactics.

"Why don't you say the real reasons you didn't bring him along?"

I stood, stepping away from her, suddenly irritated with her proximity. She rocked back on to her heels, stood, and took my place on the bed. She allowed a small pause. I couldn't help but wonder if she was waiting for me to turn and face her or to stop her.

"You knew when you left that you were going to kill Crycus..."

Her voice was as soft as it had been earlier when she soothed me at the party. This time, however, I couldn't allow myself to become a pliant little boy following her lead.

Eyes filled with anger and voice as harsh as I could muster, I replied.

"Wow! Amazing revelation, swami! I guess you want a prize..." I said, rolling my eyes.

Of course, she ignored my attempts to antagonize her and barreled right on.

"And you knew Crycus was well guarded..."

"Yeah. The rumors of which were greatly exaggerated by the way."

Suddenly I was very tired of this conversation.

"You'd been trained as a warrior. Not as an assassin."

She was advancing towards me, eyes gleaming as if she'd found the solution to some ancient mystery. I knew this look; it always meant I'd end up with a horrible migraine.

"And you knew the only way was to practice."

I shrugged. It wasn't exactly a trade secret.

"You also knew the kinds of situations you would be in..."

"Yes. Danger, mystery, intrigue. Really amazing sleuth work. It's taken you this long to realize my contacts were of the shady variety?" I asked in an annoyed tone. I was trying to make her angry and avoid the very real and very dangerous point that she had no right to touch.

"You also realized that Harry was the only family that you had left," she said, softly. "And you didn't want to risk his life."

She threw out the statement like it was nothing. Nothing that I hadn't thought about a thousand times before. That all too present 'L' word had loomed over nearly every conversation I had held all night. The stinging, brutal truth. How lovely of her to pick at old wounds.

"Yes. Harry was like a son. He and I would sit, drink tea, and discuss the writings of Homer," I drolly replied, flopping back onto the setee. I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose trying to stave off the headache that was starting to pound with renewed strength.

She sat silently for a moment at my feet. Then, I heard her shift beneath me on the floor. Her touch to my shoulder and the words that followed scalded me.

"He's seen you at your worst, and he still loves you. That makes him family."

That was what made it so hard to walk away then as I have to now. That was why I had trained so long. Why I had intentionally attempted to harden myself. I sighed. I should have known that an hundred years and a thousand miles couldn't have made me distance myself from feelings I had for him. Nothing could have prepared me for what lie ahead. Perhaps I had expected him to simply walk away from the life I had etched for him. What a foolhardy idea indeed.

I was left with two options--let him in on our scheme or lie to him. Either way I would lose.

Lost in my thoughts, I never heard Kathryn rise and leave. She didn't return that night.