Almost Had It All
Chapter One: Nightmares and Moving Out
You said hold on
but I feel like I'm slipping away
you said hold on
but I feel like I'm slipping away
I won't let you down
the words you said to me
It's echoing the sound
of what would never be
I'm standing here alone
the memories remain
the same familiar home
but nothing looks the same
and I'm standing here alone
can't tell if I'm awake
reality is gone
in a dream I can't escape
You said hold on
but I feel like I'm slipping away
you said hold on
but I feel like I'm slipping away
I'm getting through it now
I guess it's plain to see
that everything I am
is not everything you need
And I'm standing here alone
can't tell if I'm awake
Reality is gone
in a dream I can't escape
You said hold on
but I feel like I'm slipping away
you said hold on
but I feel like I'm slipping away
And I'm standing here alone
can't tell if I'm awake
and it feels like I'm slipping away
Reality is gone
in a dream I can't escape
and it feels like I'm slipping away
"Slipping Away" Trust Company
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"Goodnight, sleep tight,
No more tears
In the morning I'll be here
And when we say goodnight,
Dry your eyes
Because we said goodnight,
And not goodbye
We said goodnight
And not goodbye…"
Their mother sang softly as she sat with her son and daughter outside of their home, watching the moon rise to join the stars. The lullaby was an old one, one that had been sung to her, and her mother before her, and her mother before her, and so on.
They sat waiting on her husband to return from the hunt with some of the other men of the tribe. It didn't take long for the woman to realize that her children had fallen asleep on the bench, leaning on each other for support. She smiled to see her son's arm around his baby sister, protecting her even in sleep. The light reflected off their necklaces, the symbol of their tribe with their names engraved on the back. The smile widened as she remembered how they had traded, so they could have each other's.
The sound of horses turned her attention from her babes and toward her husband as he dismounted, said his farewells and goodnights to the fellow men and finally walked toward her.
With a smile to match the shine of the moon above them, she smiled and wrapped her arms tightly around her husband, kissing him passionately as he returned the gesture.
"It is good to have you home," she whispered against his ear.
"It is good to be home," he replied.
At that moment, their daughter opened her blue eyes, her namesake, given her because of those eyes and their likeness to the sphere above them.
With a happy giggle, she nudged her brother awake and raced off the jump in her father's awaiting arms.
Amused at her intensity, her father swung her up in the air, reveling in the sweet tinkling of her childish laughter.
"Ah, my sweet, sweet Aylin! Are you sure you're only five summers old? You look much more grown up than you did a few weeks ago! Did you miss me daughter?"
"Huh-huh," she said with a vigorous nod, answering both his questions.
"Father!"
The man reached down to hug his eleven-year-old son.
"Kavan, my boy, you look a man already!"
With that, the family went into the house.
The next day, was the day it all ended.
oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
470 A.D.
Rome…Marsile woke with a gasp. Glancing around, she realized that she wasn't in the house from her memories, but in her room at the Imperial Compound. She closed her eyes, hoping to wipe the past from her vision - images of her home in flames, red capes and the Roman standard; the sounds of the harsh Latin of the cruel soldiers, her mother crying out for her dead husband, her brother trying his best to block out the screams of the villagers being chased down by ruthless men and protect his baby sister, holding her and telling her to hold on.
It was a day that had gone seriously wrong, Marsile remembered. She recalled that her mother had asked her father that night why the men had come back empty handed from the hunt. He hadn't answered. It turned out that it hadn't been a hunt at all, but a scouting mission. The men of her tribe had known that the Romans were on their way, and had made plans accordingly. They refused to let their sons be taken.
Unfortunately for the men, and the entire village, the Romans had heard rumors of an ambush set for their collection time and had increased their numbers. The Sarmatian tribe had had no chance. What young boys had survived had been carted off for military training, her brother, Kavan, among them. It hadn't taken long for the soldiers to realize that the only female left alive was the five-year-old Aylin.
Taking deep breaths, Marsile pulled back the sheets of her bed and walked to the washbasin on a table next to the tall window. She splashed her face with water now stale from sitting too long and wiped her golden skin dry of sweat and water with a cloth. Leaning on the table for support, she gazed out into the night air, at the full moon shining eerily on the city.
"How can you be the same here, as you were there?" she muttered.
"Why do you talk to the moon and ask it questions you know it cannot answer?" a voice said from behind her.
Marsile turned to look at the man still lying in her bed, though now sitting with his back resting on the headboard. His short dark hair mussed from sleep and other things. His brown eyes piercing, but warm. Strong arms were crossed against his chest and she knew what muscle lie there. Battle scars slashed their way across his body.
He smiled and she knew that he'd noticed her study of his form and Marsile watched as his eyes swept down her own, only then realizing that she was still naked. Rolling her eyes at the smug look on his face, she walked over to a chaise lounge at the end of the bed and slipped on the robe that had been tossed there earlier.
"Well Cornelius, I suppose I do it in hope that one night she might finally answer and then I would have no more questions," she said as she walked toward him, grabbing a leather thong and tying her long black waves up as she went. When she sat next to him on the bed, he placed his hand on her thigh and squeezed, not in a sexual way, but in a way only meant to offer comfort. It pleased Marsile to see that even after her "abandonment" of him those five years ago hadn't affected their friendship.
"What troubles you Iniga?" he asked calling her by the nickname once again.
"Just memories…nightmares," she corrected.
Because he knew how badly the memories affected her and how she wouldn't accept his words of sympathy, he put his arms around her and just held her.
"I'm worried," she whispered after a long pause, fiddling with her necklace (Cornelius noticed that she had been doing quite a bit of fidgeting in the times he had seen her in the past five years), her cheek pressed against his collarbone.
"About what?" Cornelius asked softly. Marsile hardly ever spoke of her fears and he knew that when she did so, it was best for her to do most of the talking.
"This new order…it just doesn't…feel right."
"Why not?"
"I am to escort the Bishop Germanus safely to Hadrian's Wall in Britain. Once there, I will be issued my discharge papers from the Roman military." Marsile sat up and met Cornelius' brown gaze with her azure one. "I have been under Roman control of one sort or another since I was five. I am now twenty-three…that's eighteen years, Cornelius. I was only sentenced to serve ten years; that was up last year and yet, here I am. Crassus kept making up reasons for why I should be kept under sentence and the Emperor listened to him. But now, it is said this is the last mission.
"I shouldn't have to go on another mission to gain my freedom. Why can I not have it now, damn it?" She shouted the last part, her grip on the necklace turning her knuckles white with the strain, the anger rising up in her throat causing a slight wheeze, but she held back the coughing for now.
Cornelius grasped her hand and she released the chain, revealing a beautifully elaborate pendant with the crest of her ancestors. "I cannot answer your question. God has a purpose for everything and I'm sure he has a reason for your mission-"
"God? What has he ever done for me? I'll tell you what…nothing. If there was a God, my family would never have been taken from me and I wouldn't lead this life! For all I know, I could have been married by now, with children of my own, and never have to wonder if the blood of all the men I've killed iswashed away. Don't speak to me of your god. Why would a true god allow his officials to become so corrupt? How can I be expected to do my duty if I must guard my back from their knives? I don't trust any of them."
"All right Crassus, I was told you wanted to speak with me? Surely, you can say it all soon and this unfortunate meeting can end quickly," Marsile stated, looking at the cardinal's plump, wrinkled face with thinly veiled hatred.
"So Lady Marsile, I wonder if you have finally converted from your heathen beliefs to the ways of the one and only God?" he said, coming to stand right in front of her.
"Sorry to disappoint you Cardinal, but I think I'll be keeping my 'heathen beliefs' - as you called them - now and forevermore. I am not required to believe in your god and that is a leniency I take full advantage of."
"So you wish to remain a pagan? A whore for soldiers? You are nothing but a criminal and it seems to me that your punishment is not harsh enough. But it is in the hands of God and hopefully he will be forgiving of your sins," Crassus said with a smirk.
"Perhaps you should be praying for the absolution of your own transgressions. You call me a whore, but you yourself make use of the ones found here in the city? I could be wrong, but isn't hypocrisy thought of as a sin by your god?"
"You should not speak to a man in such words, especially one of my station-"
"Stop your blabbering. Everyone knows you do not care about being a 'holy' man, only about how much money from the church you can line your pockets with and how much influence you could hold over the Emperor and I am the criminal?"
"You pagan bitch!" Crassus yelled as he backhanded Marsile, cutting her cheek with one of the heavy ruby rings on his short, chubby fingers. "Seems that the woman has forgotten her place in the years since… Yes, it is definitely time for another lesson!" he thought as he tried to grab her, already hard with the prospect of "re-teaching" the girl what he had several years ago.
But Marsile wasn't ever going to allow anything of the sort to happen to her ever again. Quickly grasping her dagger from her belt, she stabbed the Cardinal through the palm of his left hand.
"Since you enjoy being a holy man so much – how does it feel to share a wound with your holy 'Savior'?
"Don't ever touch me or next time my knife will be through an appendage you value much more than that hand," she threatened. With a last disgusted glance at the now weeping Cardinal lying on the floor, Marsile re-sheathed her dagger, turned on her heel and left.
"You'll pay you Sarmatian bitch… Trust me, you'll pay…" Crassus ground out between sobs of pain that echoed in his now empty council room, already plotting a way to make the woman suffer.
Cornelius sighed. He couldn't argue with what she spoke of. The truth of the matter was, he was worried too. There was no reason for her to leave and then receive her freedom when it could be given here in Rome. "Could it be a way to get her out of the public eye?" he wondered. She had respect from the citizens, the Emperor, admiration from most soldiers, the unwanted infatuation of the heir, and unfortunately, the hatred of the church. But it would be foolish to try to harm her here in the city.
"I had best start preparing for the journey, we leave an hour after sunrise," Marsile said getting up to dress as she saw the first hints of dawn on the horizon through her window, the eerie gray light of the moon submitting to the returned rays of the sun.
"And I have new recruits to evaluate today - young ones, from the outer provinces. They seem to have potential," Cornelius added as he too stood from the bed and began to put on his clothes and armor. It had not been long after Gattus' death when the Emperor had offered the position of General of the Eastern Legions to Cornelius, to continue on his father's legacy.
"Are you going to say your goodbyes to Herminius before you leave?" he asked teasingly to lighten the mood, knowing how the young emperor-to-be annoyed her with his constant words of love.
Marsile grimaced. "Ugh…I wish he would just take the hint! I see him as an acquaintance if anything, not a lover! How many times must I tell him 'No' before it gets through his thick, royal skull?"
"You can't blame him for trying. After all, you are a fighter renowned throughout the empire...and even though you try to hide it, a beautiful woman," Cornelius mentioned as he took in her long dark hair which was now being set into a plait, the flawless golden skin, the ice blue eyes, thickly lashed and very perceptive, the full mouth and her body, though covered in a loose fitting tunic and riding breeches, he knew had ample curves in the right places and was as well toned as any warrior's would be.
Marsile turned toward him with an amused look on her face. "Well, you're not so bad looking yourself Cornelius, and after all you are a great general…maybe he should give you a try, hmm?" she said with a devilish smirk.
Wincing, as if in pain at the thought, Cornelius came up to stand in front of her.
"Now why would you think that, when I only have eyes for you?" he asked, only half serious, kissing her forehead.
Though they'd both had other lovers, and enjoyed said lovers as a physical release, Cornelius loved her, and always had. But after his father's death, she had retreated further within herself, fearing to get too emotionally attached to anyone, because death shrouded every aspect of her life. And to respect her wishes, he too had moved back, waiting until she was ready to surge forward again.
Seeing what he felt in his eyes, Marsile took a step back, away from him.
Turning away, she moved to put on her own armor. When they were both dressed, Marsile and Cornelius trekked to the kitchens. In the hall just outside the room, Marsile suddenly stopped,
"I forgot something. Could you gather some dried meat and fruits in a sack for me while I go get it?"
With a nod, Cornelius entered the kitchen; always eager to see what delectable snack he could convince the old cook to sneak him.
Once she was sure Cornelius was preoccupied, Marsile snuck out of the building to a gate in the compound wall, where she knew a less than respectable man awaited her with his 'merchandise'.
After a few minutes, Marsile, with her purchase tucked securely inside a discreet bag, met Cornelius in the back entrance hall and walked with him to the stable.
He watched sadly as she brought around Artay's tack and began to saddle the steed. In his mind, the task was done all too quickly.
A servant came to inform Marsile that the soldiers joining her in the journey where waiting in the front courtyard and that the Bishop and his secretary would soon be ready to make way.
"Goodbye, Cornelius," she said, pushing away the bad thought that it would be the last time she spoke with him and hugged him.
"Goodbye Iniga," he whispered against her hair, inhaling its scent.
Marsile mounted Artay, said a final farewell and rode to the courtyard. It took several more minutes before the Bishop came out of the compound and climbed into the carriage followed closely by his rodent-faced assistant, Horton.
Finally, the dreaded extra mission was begun as the caravan of two carriages, one for the Bishop and another for the Bishop's luggage, a Roman lieutenant and twenty soldiers, and one Sarmatian knight, moved out.
Watching from the entryway, Cornelius put his fist over his heart in Roman salute. "Be safe, my dear Aylin."
Next Chapter: The Wall
Lullaby - "Goodnight" Evanescence