Title: Tables Turn: 26 of ?
Author: Sam
Series: A Deeper Magic
Last Chapter: Az and Dylan make their way south over the Crack in the O.Z., rescuing an injured Zero along the bridge. Az heals Zero, much to Dylan's disgust.
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Wyatt lay quietly, gently stroking DG's soft hair where it spread over her back and shoulder.
After crying herself out the night before, the princess had drifted off in his arms. Not wanting to set her off again, the Tin Man had slid them both into bed and pulled the covers over them. Then he simply held her as she slept, troubled by her break down. He'd seen the brave, resourceful woman cry only one other time: when she found out she had been the cause of her sister's possession. Listening to her quiet breathing, Wyatt had drifted off to sleep, barely waking when Randu's men came for the tray and lamp. Finally, the former blacksmith let himself fall asleep, still holding DG protectively against his side.
And he'd woken to the soft spring dawn and DG in his arms.
He stroked strong fingers through the soft tresses he'd released from the bride plait the night before. To see her in such a style all day had been difficult; knowing he'd been the one to put her hair in that style had been even harder. He had no right to even consider such a relationship with the princess. Wyatt wondered who she had worn the original suitor's braid for . . . and why the man was not there to protect her.
The door opening drew his attention and Wyatt frowned as a pair of Long Coats brought the covered breakfast tray into the room. Watching intently, Wyatt slid his free arm down and over DG's waist, feeling her soft skin with rough fingers; her shirt had ridden up in their sleep. He stilled his hand, watching the two guards with intense blue eyes.
When the men left, they locked the door but no sound of their footsteps could be heard: the pair was obviously spying on Wyatt and DG. Like the night before, DG woke up as soon as the guards had left, but this time she remained lying down, her cheek on his bare chest and her hand on his stomach.
"Wyatt?" her voice sounded raspy from crying and sleep.
"Right here, Deeg," he answered. He listened for the guards to leave but knew they continued to eavesdrop on the imprisoned pair.
Amusement tinged DG's voice as she said "I would hope that was you. I was just wondering," the amusement dropped away, "what duties the general will have for you today."
"I don't know," he answered.
There it was: the sound of the two Long Coats walking away. Wyatt stayed still, listening for a long while before finally taking his hand from DG's hip, lightly flushing.
When DG merely sat up without comment, surprise shot through the man. 'Damn, the kid's probably too innocent to realize how compromised she'd be if anyone finds us in bed,' he thought, ruthlessly tamping down on his wayward desire. She wasn't his; he had no right to feel desire for the younger woman. 'She's got a suitor, Cain,' he reminded himself. 'And she's a princess . . . you're just a blacksmith in a temporary position.' Unfortunately, the reminder wasn't helping the inner turmoil he felt.
Wyatt slid from the bed and headed towards the armoire for a fresh uniform. Behind him DG unlocked the washroom and went in. Relieved to be further from the object of his misplaced desire, Wyatt quickly changed into the uniform trousers and an undershirt, picking up the belt just as the washroom door opened once more.
At least she wore the dressing robe.
"You know, I really hate that they just come right in without knocking," she said while looking over the tray.
With a nod, silently agreeing with her sentiment, Wyatt slipped past her into the bathroom to shave and relieve himself before coming back out to grab a uniform shirt and pull it on. "Hurry up and dress and we can have breakfast. I don't know when he'll show up for me."
When she didn't respond, Wyatt looked up from buttoning his shirt, frowning. "Deeg?"
She looked troubled. "I don't like the idea that he'll separate us." The princess lifted worried blue eyes to meet the Tin Man's. "I don't trust him."
He nodded, tucking in his shirt and fastening his belt, then moved to the chair, retrieving his uniform jacket as DG started pulling out clothes. "Neither do I." Running one hand through his blond hair, Wyatt picked up the tray. "I'll get started on the bandages. We'll eat when you're ready."
DG nodded to him and Wyatt walked to the connecting lady's room where he could tend their hidden patients.
As soon as he entered the other bedroom, Wyatt placed the tray on the vanity and turned towards the pair on the bed. Glitch looked pale, but he'd always been pale as far as Wyatt could tell. Lying beside the royal advisor, Leona appeared flushed and restless, her hands smoothing and re-smoothing over the blankets. Worry shot through the Tin Man and he collected the medicine kit then stepped to Leona's side.
"Hey, Leona . . ." he kept his voice low and steady, "you feeling okay?" Wyatt helped her to lean on his strong arm while he carefully unbandaged the nude woman's injured back and shoulder-blade. A second pair of hands reached over to aid him and Wyatt glanced briefly at Ambrose, letting him take over as Wyatt continued to support the injured princess.
The other man worked quickly as he released the bandages and checked the infected wound, ignoring his own obviously still injured, painful head. Leona's wounds appeared less red, less swollen and hot. Ambrose nodded and met Wyatt's concerned gaze. "A little better," the advisor stated, and the Tin Man nodded his agreement.
Working quietly and steadily, the pair cleaned and rebandaged Leona's shoulder then cared for her other injuries, using up the last of the available bandages from Jeb's kit. They finished as DG walked in. Thankfully she carried a fresh nightgown for her cousin to wear. Wyatt hoped Leona wouldn't get tangled in the long folds of material; she moved restlessly in her fevered state.
When Leona had been seen to, Wyatt turned to care for Ambrose, but the advisor waved a long-fingered hand. He gave an airy smile and said "I feel fine. We can do me for lunch." At Leona's weak chuckle, Ambrose flushed bright red and began to stammer.
DG shook her head, hair down and sweeping over her shoulders. "Forget about it, Ambrose. Let's eat."
As the quartet ate, Wyatt pushed both small cups of juice to Leona. "You're not eating much. At least have something."
She grimaced but took the first cup to drink the orange juice. Unfortunately, Leona had barely raised the cup when she paled, wrinkled her nose, and dropped the cup, juice splashing Ambrose and DG as well as the bed covers. Collapsing against the headboard, the older woman panted, obviously weak and miserable.
Jumping up, DG groaned but reached carefully for her cousin, apparently more concerned for the ill woman than the ruined meal or dirty bed. "Oh, Leona!" she slid an arm around her. "C'mon. I'll get you cleaned up."
With the younger woman's help, Leona managed to slide out of bed.
Wyatt watched the women make their awkward way into the washroom and he sighed. "I'll get rid of the tray and get her some fresh clothes," he told the other man. "Then I'll come clean you up."
At Ambrose's nod, Wyatt grabbed the disgusting, unfinished meal and made his way by the two women in the washroom and into his temporary bedroom. As he moved to place the tray near the hall door, he froze at the sound of a key in the lock. 'Of all the lousy timing!'
The door swung open to reveal three Long Coats rather than the normal contingent of Randu and two underlings. Wyatt frowned and held out the orange juice soaked tray, stalling for time and information. "My wife got sick." He let his eyes rove the three strangers; none had come up previously. "Where's the general?"
"Waiting for us to report for duty, Lieutenant." The man glanced at the tray with a disgusted sneer. "With child is she? A simple potion can take care of that . . ." As Wyatt stiffened, offended at the suggestion of an abortion despite DG's non-pregnant state, the soldier shrugged and looked into the cold ice-blue eyes. The Long Coat seemed interested in the topic but never took the soiled tray, "Isn't she supposed to be that dead princess?"
Not too sure what to make of the question, Wyatt pushed down his anger and frowned even more. He decided to answer the inquiries his own way. "We hope she's pregnant," he offered a worried look, trying for his guise of over-whelmed low-ranker. "And the queen . . . uh . . . former queen said she's the missing princess." As if he thought these men really believed DG might be a corpse, he added, "but she never died. She got really sick and the . . . former queen sent her to get better . . ."
"Come on, Lieutenant," the Long Coat ordered, gesturing towards the open hall door.
Wyatt stepped into the hall, still carrying the unfinished, destroyed meal. He watched as the spokesman locked the door and turned to lead them downstairs. The small group began walking.
"Why wouldn't she . . . the queen . . . use a medico or the court advisor to heal the princess?" The leader asked, stopping just in front of the next door over.
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As soon as Wyatt passed through the bathroom, DG let out a whoosh of air. Waking up for the second time in the man's arms had felt natural, but she had to watch that. With the provincial attitudes in this place, DG feared Wyatt would feel cornered into something stupidly noble.
Shaking herself from the annoying trend of thoughts, DG ran water into the hipbath, privately glad the tower had running water instead of outdoor latrines and hand-carried buckets. As the tub filled, the younger woman stripped out of her soiled robe then helped Leona out of the nightgown. Grabbing a washcloth, DG carefully soaped the soft material, eyeing her cousin's wounds, especially those bandaged only that morning.
The sound of voices from her bedroom drew DG's attention. She didn't dare leave the weakened Leona in the tub, but that closed door and the running water masked whatever was said. She knew what was happening none-the-less: they had come for Wyatt.
"Perfect timing," she groaned then started carefully bathing her pale, feverish cousin, leaving the soaked bandages to be changed last. She'd have to cut up those shirts to replace these linens.
"Well, if you insist," Leona sounded puzzled, tired. "But good timing or not, it was unintentional."
DG focused on Leona's words and shook her head. "I didn't mean you dropping the juice. I meant Randu coming to get Wyatt while I'm busy." She frowned then added, "Actually, I was being sarcastic, Leona."
"Of course you were," Leona's tone held no censure; she sounded rather matter-of-fact.
The door of the other room closing signaled that Randu's men had taken Wyatt off. DG continued carefully washing Leona, fighting the need to run after the Long Coats and get Wyatt back. Besides being the exact reckless action Wyatt always seemed to accuse her of, DG knew such stupidity could leave Leona and Ambrose unprotected and very vulnerable. As much as she chafed at such a timid role, DG had to play the part of obedient housewife . . . and trust Randu would returned Wyatt.
Hearing a sound from the lady's room where Ambrose still needed her, DG frowned. She opened her mouth to call out but stopped, recalling that Randu's men had a habit of eavesdropping, and she hadn't heard them walk away with the sound of the water. DG turned off the water deciding there was plenty to clean her cousin in.
Leona gasped softly. "Check on him, DG. I can wait."
"And let you drown?" DG shot back, worry making her snap at the sick woman.
Lifting dulled blue eyes, the older woman groaned. "Then help me out of this bath. Check on Wyatt, DG, if only to show them you care about him."
Unable to argue with such logic, DG heaved Leona from the hipbath and onto the floor. Knowing the guards would have locked her bedroom door, DG headed into the other room and over to the nightstand. She grabbed the key out of the fedora and Wyatt's revolver then headed for the hall door. Carefully she listened at the door, hearing voices.
Wyatt's voice carried well, as if he didn't fear being overheard. "I don't know why she didn't heal her . . . I never asked."
A second male voice, this one unfamiliar, responded, "Well, looks like she got all better now." After a slight pause, he added, "Too bad she's all alone now."
Something thudded dully, like skin on skin, right before a heavy object hit the door between the lady's room and the hallway. DG hurried to unlock the door as more sounds of a beating broke through her increasing fear. Her hands shook and she jumped, almost dropping the key, as the door vibrated a second time.
A long-fingered hand gently took the key and slid it into the lock, twisting. Ambrose, still in the juice-drenched striped pajamas, pushed open the door, grunting with the effort to thrust something heavy holding the door from the other side. He shook in his effort, since he was far from healed after his surgery two nights before.
DG joined Ambrose, and together they heaved the door open enough for the young woman to slide through.
In the hallway, DG barely registered two Long Coats gripping Wyatt's arms, a long-handled knife lying abandoned and bloody on the floor. A third Long Coat beat Wyatt repeatedly with the butt of his rifle. Sudden anger swelled to match DG's fear, and the princess raised the revolver, aiming, hands steady. She didn't even pause, flicking the safety off, cocking the hammer, and squeezing off a round right over the attacker's shoulder.
"Let him go." DG's voice rang with self-assurance. "I don't miss."
The commander froze when the bullet passed so close to his ear. Slowly, he straightened, watching DG warily. He lowered his rifle and stepped one pace away from the battered Tin Man. His flunkies heaved Wyatt towards DG and backed away. When the pair reached for their guns, DG cocked the hammer once more and aimed at the commander. They shot their hands up into the air in an age-old display that they were unarmed; no one even glanced at the knife.
"Uh uh . . . don't try it." Her eyes flicked to the injured man crumpled on the floor then back up to the three assailants, but she had seen far too much blood for her liking. Narrowing intense blue eyes, DG growled out, "take him to the bed and give me the room key."
"Do it," the commander ordered, still holding his rifle in one hand but making no move to use it. Apparently he had no interest in challenging the woman as she kept her revolver trained on him.
When the pair of Long Coats reached again for Wyatt, DG rasped out "careful with my husband. I'm feeling a wave of PMS coming on." She watched intently as the commander turned to unlock the bedroom door, never questioning how she could get out of a completely different room from the one assigned to her.
He stepped out of the way of his underlings who carefully heaved Wyatt into the room.
After a long moment, DG watched the pair come back out to the hallway. She nodded her head towards the steps, hands never wavering. No one could question she knew how to use a firearm and was unafraid to do so. "Now leave. Next time someone comes up, I want bandages and General Randu. Anyone else and I start shooting."
The commander stood for a long moment, studying the princess, before finally turning and ordering "get out." His men hurried down the nearby staircase followed closely by their leader. The entire time DG heard their footfalls she refused to move or lower her weapon.
Unfortunately her meek façade had gone up in smoke, and the Long Coats now knew the princess was someone not to be underestimated.
Hearing the door behind her, DG whirled, lowering the gun automatically. Even with an adrenaline rush, she knew only friends would be coming out of Ambrose and Leona's room.
Ambrose looked out, worry on his pale face. "DG?"
She nodded. "Wyatt's hurt." At that, she turned towards the open door of her shared room with Wyatt. The princess wanted to get her Tin Man bandaged before the general showed up. She wanted her hands free to shoot the bastard.
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Continued in Chapter Twenty-Seven: Disturbing Revelations
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The Twelve Clans of the Outer Zone with the Ruling House of Each Clan:
Aquam Clan/ House of Rimi . . . (Ice- Mount Runcible)
Cogitatio Clan/ House of Idae . . . (Milltown)
Corde Clan/ House of Animum . . . (Viewers)
Fortitudo Clan/ House of Greyhatt . . . (Guilds- Munchkins)
Lux Clan/ House of Gale . . . (formerly House of Ozma- Gillikin)
Mortem Clan/ House of Shiz . . . (Alma Mata- Gillikin)
Nature Clan/ House of Terrae . . . (Vinkus- Thousand Year Grasslands)
Papay Clan/ House of Somniabunt
Phlogiston Clan/ House of Pyre . . . (Fire- Desert surrounding O.Z.)
Sapientiam Clan/ House of Quinolui . . . (Quadling- Realm of the Unwanted)
Spiritus Clan/ House of Aeris . . . (Air- Lake Country)
Tenebris Clan/ House of Fugae . . . (Witch's Dark Tower- Gillikin)
