A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I really appreciate you taking the time to do so. If you have a moment I would appreciate any comments you might have, please leave me a review. And, as always :-), thank you to Fan Boy 101 for the amazing reviews - they are very encouraging!
Broken Wings
Chapter 5
The two burly gargoyles eyed Brooklyn and Lexington suspiciously as they exited the tent. Both were taller than either Manhattan clan male, however one was slimmer and the other more muscular.
"If you hadn't been there…" The small female bowed at Brooklyn and shook her bushy haired head. Then without warning she threw herself onto him thankfully clinging to him. "Thank you." She moaned.
"Hey, it was nothin'." Brooklyn admitted, awkwardly patting her comfortingly.
Finally she climbed off from him and when she offered to thank Lexington he extended his hand to her before she could pounce on him, which she eagerly shook excitedly exclaiming his praise as well. "Friends, you are welcome among us of course. We don't often happen by gargoyle comrades. I don't suppose you have names as none we've met in the past have…but they call me Tara. The thick one is Aden and the slender is Sloan. You've met Doyle, don't mind him, he's all business. And the wounded one is Kerry – but it seems that you already knew that. How is that?"
"Actually we do have names." Lexington cut in, evading Tara's question until they had further information, as it was clear that something was out of the ordinary here. "I'm Lexington and this is Brooklyn."
Brooklyn was carefully eyeing the tents and the few humans about the area. The shadow of Aden was hulking over him, but he ignored it. The people were all men and were dressed in the velvet under-dress of armored warriors. They sat around camp fires roasting bits of the woodland creatures of the area; rabbit seemed to be the most common. Near each man seemed to be the metal plate armor that would go over their velvet chest. They weren't at all taken aback by the gargoyles strutting through their camp, in fact most gave no indication of acknowledgement at all. It gave him the slightest feeling of the war camps of his birthplace in Scotland 1,000 years earlier.
"Brooklyn." Lexington whispered. "Every one of them wears the same white tunic with a red cross."
"I noticed Lex." Brooklyn retorted calmly. He raised his voice taking a chance. "Tara, is there any chance we could talk to your clan leader, Curran?"
She stopped suddenly almost causing Lexington to slam into her. Brooklyn had to leap back to keep from smashing into Lexington. She peeked her wildish eyes over her shoulder at him, and then her gaze moved to the two gargoyles behind him. Brooklyn heard both Aden and Sloan take several paces back.
She looked at Lexington and raised an eyebrow before bursting into fits of laughter. She was giggling so hard she had to lean over and hold her side while whispers and snorts went between Aden and Sloan.
In the commotion the sound of beating wings echoed behind the group. The sand kicked up as the individual landed softly at the group's rear. "What is the meaning of this joy? I heard that Kerry was mortally wounded! Why are you laughing when you should be in prayer for her safe return to good health?"
Before Lexington or Brooklyn had to turn they recognized the stern feminine voice. It belonged to Morrigan, the second in command. She had been quite, letting Curran speak for them; but that was just a shadow of the gargoyle stood before them now and earlier was awed by Hudson's stories. She rose with poise, grace, and presence. Her ash gray tail flicked around in front of her as her raven hair fell over one eye. She puckered her lips as she stared at them waiting for an answer.
"Our apologies Morrigan," Sloan bowed, his slim face showing signs of edginess. "But our new comrades, Brooklyn and Lexington, want to meet with out leader…"
"Curran!" Aden added heartily, giving Sloan a gleeful clap on the shoulder.
Morrigan took a step back. "And why the laughter?"
Tara was trying desperately to catch her breath as she explained. "Well it's just that Curran…he's…"
"A halfwit." Aden finished for her. Brooklyn and Lexington exchanged confused looks. Curran had been soft spoken and lacked a coarse edge, but he seemed wise in their meeting. He certainly appeared of leader quality.
"He's weak and foolish. He makes bad decisions and wouldn't suit the role by any means mistress." Sloan sank deeper in his bow and Lexington caught a smile on his boney face. Lex realized he was bowing deeper to keep from her seeing him grin.
Morrigan looked somewhere between mystified and horrified at the confessions of her companions. Finally she snapped her tail making a crack sound and stomping her foot. "Silence you three! Forgive their indigence new friends." She extended her taloned hand to Lexington and Brooklyn. "Tara, do you trust my judgment?"
"Of course." Tara answered quickly without second thought.
"And you?" She looked to Sloan, who had taken a brief moment to look up.
"Yes." He nodded.
"Aden?" She asked.
"Unquestioningly."
"Liars! The lot of you! If you trusted my judgment then you would trust me in my decision to educate Curran on leadership while he severs as my second in command. He will make a noble and wise leader in my absence. However, he will never have the confidence needed without your unwavering support. He has much to learn but I have faith that he will blossom to be a masterful leader – far surpassing my ability to wrangle you."
"Morrigan, don't say that!" Tara said. "You're the best leader this clan could ever want or need."
"Shhh, Tara." Morrigan placed a hand on the tiny gargoyle's head and she seemed to calm at Morrigan's touch. "I think the bigger question is, what would give our new friends – Brooklyn and Lexington, the idea that Curran's role is that of leader – he is several weeks travel away, helping a battle to the south at the moment. However, you have been misinformed friends…" Morrigan swept her wings around her shoulder and bowed before the. "I am this clan's leader."
Awestruck at her natural command for respect they both nodded. "We were mistaken." Lexington mumbled. She reminded him of Goliath; she seemed stronger than the last time he'd met her.
"Where are you from friends?" Morrigan asked.
"Scotland is our location of origin." Lexington responded before Brooklyn could.
"Ah, you have the appearance of our brethren of Scotland. I'm told that we are of Irish decent. So many seasons have come and gone I've forgotten much of that which I'm sure I should have kept dear. Tell me friends, other Scottish kin we've come across have not had names, how is it that you posses them?"
"It seems to be easier to have them when living with the humans." Brooklyn answered.
"You live among humans too then?" Morrigan looked at him.
"Yeah, something like that…"
"We were raised by human monks in a Franciscan monastery in Ireland. They named us before we could speak, that is why you'll find our names of Gaelic origins. They named us as they saw fit by our childhood behaviors. I have heard that you saved our Kerry, and for that I am grateful." Morrigan gave them another little bow.
"Word travels fast." Tara said.
"Tell me friends, what has caused this; why had Kerry fallen in battle…or need I ask?" Morrigan's voice grew wary.
"Donovan." Tara hissed, Sloan growled, and Aden roared all at once.
"I needn't ask then." Morrigan's shoulders fell a little but she remained firm in her conviction.
"Who's Donovan?" Lexington asked.
Aden was puffing angrily as let loose a wicked roar of frustration; but Morrigan went to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Like her touch had calmed Tara, it had a similar effect on Aden. Despite her quelling their anger Brooklyn and Lexington could see a bit of red in Morrigan's cheeks and her jaw was rigid in aggravation.
She turned to them, ready to explain but her words were cut off before she began as the sound of hooves beating on the sandy earth called their attention. Brooklyn and Lexington recognized the tired men entering the camp, they had been locked in battle across the ravine when Kerry had been wounded. The one leading the small band dismounted his horse before it stopped, expertly landing like a cat even in his heavy armor. Like the other tunics, Lexington had pointed out, he (and all his companions) were wearing over their armor was white with a brilliant crimson cross stitched into the cloth.
Morrigan stepped in front of her clan and approached the man who was hurrying her way.
"Where is she?" He was smiling as he removed his helmet. "She's a hero. Where is my Kerry?" His bearded face was handsome, hints of gray were beginning to appear speckled through the tuft of chocolate colored hair peaking out from under the red velvet hood over his head.
They could hear a low rumble in Morrigan's throat as she stepped up to him. "She's dying, thanks to you. And I'll remind you one final time…she isn't YOUR Kerry. She belongs to no one Donovan, least of all you."
His smile quickly vanished. "She is the reason my lady, she is the cause of our victory."
"And at what price?" Tara shrieked from behind Morrigan. Lexington, at her side, could feel her shivering with rage. "She had to take the hit for your unnecessary expedition into the forest."
"Tara's right." Morrigan roared.
"We uncovered infidels planning an attack." Donovan boomed back.
"Not our concern!" Morrigan's voice easily bested his in volume. "Not her concern! She only follows for you! You bate her like a farmer with a carrot tempting a donkey. She bears your burden as you string her along with a carrot you can not give and never intended to in the first place!"
"If I could have it my way…"
"What! What? What Donovan? What would you do? What would you promise the flower headed child that you haven't already tried with? The moon? The stars? Or the heavens perhaps? Would you give her your heart? Would you be her mate and stop making promises so she'll continue on her self destructive path to get to you?" Morrigan sneered. "You see, we know the truth." She gestured to the clan behind her. "We know you wouldn't…even if you could."
"Perhaps Kerry wouldn't have been wounded if Tara had -" He began to offer feebly.
"DON'T YOU DARE BEGIN TO PLACE BLAME ON OTHERS!" Morrigan bellowed. Donovan took a step back at this as her eyes flared red. Lexington was once again reminded of Goliath.
"Morrigan." Doyle's tired voice cut in. All eyes went to the door of the tent he was tending to the wounded in. He looked defeated. "Fetch a priest."
For a moment Morrigan lost her composure and her manners deviated from that of Goliath. She stumbled forward but quickly recovered. She curled a lip at Donovan. "I'm going to see that you are transferred to another camp. If such a request is denied…I'll have Kerry moved." She went to one of the men tending to his rabbit-meat-on-a-stick meal and pulled him to his feet as Donovan called to her.
"I'm a priest."
"Not one that I recognize." She hissed lowly as she turned her attention to the man she had plucked off the log. "Please father, my comrade needs you." She pointed to Doyle. The priest, as the entire camp, had been watching the events unfold. It was clear that they all agreed with Morrigan and her clan, or were unwilling to get involved.
He bowed to her. "Of course Morrigan." And with that he shuffled into the tent and Doyle exited.
"Kerry?" Tara asked.
"No." Doyle frowned. "Brother Stephen."
Brooklyn was the first to let out a sigh of relief. He hadn't noticed but he had been building up anger, along with Morrigan, that was directed at the human who was responsible for Kerry's injury, both physical and emotional.
"You." She pointed at Donovan. "Owe these gargoyles your thanks and allegiance." She pointed at Brooklyn and Lexington. "They are responsible for Kerry's survival."
He went to them, brushing haughtily past Morrigan, and dropped to one knee before them. He bent his head down. "You have my gratitude."
"Hey, it was no problem." Brooklyn didn't intend his response to come out so snide but it did none the less. "I'll always be there to catch her when others let her fall." He ground his teeth and narrowed his eyes at the man kneeling before them.
Donovan jerked his head up only to glare at Brooklyn. "We'll see about that." He mumbled lowly enough for only Brooklyn and Lexington to hear; both of which did. Lexington reached out and caught Brooklyn's arm as he made a tiny lunge at Donovan, his eyes flashing white for a brief second.
Donovan stood and swept past Morrigan once more, this time with a proud and condescending smile. "Good luck with your endeavor to have me moved. I will forever be a thorn in your side. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to congratulate Kerry on her victory."
An involuntary growl escaped Brooklyn as he made to lunge for Donovan again but this time Tara was holding his opposite wrist while Lexington still had a hold of the other.
"No Brooklyn." Tara said. "You'll be no better than him."
"I thought priests were incapable of romantic love." Lexington stated and questioned simultaneously.
"Not incapable." Morrigan snorted. "Forbidden. It makes it all that much more desirable when it's out of reach. Besides it would be foolish to assume that every priest lives by their ordained vows. Some, the poor of heart and soul, prove their humanity a vital weakness and fall victim to sin." She looked over at them. "Donovan doesn't love Kerry, he feels powerful having her at his will – which is an even greater sin. It's abuse of her misplaced affection. No matter, I'm going to solve this…even if it makes her hate me." Morrigan moved to the man sitting beside Tara, Brooklyn, and Lexington. "Father Advernge. I'm going to have Doyle prep a cart for Kerry, the moment Donovan leaves that tent, I need your word that you'll take her to Jacques. He'll understand."
"It will be done. You have my word." And with that the man got to his feet and began equipping his armor.
"Tonight Morrigan?" Doyle stepped forward skeptically. "She's still very ill."
"Immediately. The sooner the better, before she wakes and can fight this decision. By tomorrow night, when she wakes healed, it will be too late if Father Advernge rides through the night and the day and is on an unfamiliar path, she won't be able to return without getting lost. Jacque is aware of this problem and will tend to her himself."
"I want to go to." Brooklyn interjected. "I can watch over her."
"No." Morrigan said. "I don't want Donovan seeing anything out of the ordinary. For this to work he's going to have to think she's still here. If he thinks otherwise he'll go for her. After all, what is a monarch without his subject?"
Dejected Brooklyn nodded, he understood her decision and yielded to her plan.
"WHERE ARE THEY?" Kerry held the one of the (still conscious) men over her head. "Where did you send them?" When he merely whimpered she threw him into a nearby wall. She caught the other who was scrambling to get away when Doyle's hand came down on her shoulder.
"Kerry." He said softly.
"WHAT!" She roared as the man scampered into a shadow behind a garbage bin. "You made me let him get away!"
"I think I know where there are." He whispered.
"WHAT?" Her eyes glowed.
"Do you remember, though I highly doubt it as there was an explosion and you had amnesia for a time…" he paused. "Well let me make it bigger, do you remember Jacques?"
Kerry looked at him perplexed. Her eyes simmered and revered to their typical appearance. She drew away from him. "Jacques?" She questioned. "Jacques DeMolay?"
He gave one nod of his head.
"Of course, we still owe him a great deal. But Doyle, that was hundreds of years ago…"
"Remember how I recognized Brooklyn and Lexington?"
"Yes…" Kerry let her voice trail off.
"Morrigan remembers them too. They visited us…hundreds of years ago. Brooklyn saved your life when you followed Donovan into that ambush. Just before Jacques was murdered." Doyle eyed the ground. "You favored him them…"
"WHAT?" Kerry roared again ignoring Doyle's wounded ego. "And you thought it appropriate to keep that from me?"
"We didn't know how you'd respond." Doyle barked defensively.
Kerry stepped back, well out of Doyle's reach as the man with the book, who had recited the spell that whisked Brooklyn and Lexington away, watched the events unfold. She touched her head, her mind was swimming with thoughts. She was confused and lost. She felt betrayed by Doyle for not telling her and she was worried about what Lexington and Brooklyn were encountering on the other side of time. Then, like a ton of bricks falling from a skyscraper, it hit her. She was flooded with old memories and emotions she'd buried centuries ago. She grabbed her head and let herself bend over. "Oh God, give me strength." The face of a human man she'd once loved unconditionally flashed in her mind.
She reached in the bag slung across her chest resting on her hip, of which she extracted a crystal shard.
"KERRY!" Doyle screeched seeing what she was doing. "NO!"
"Grant me strength and power, take me away from here, keep me safe but give me wisdom, place me where I'm needed…In Nomeni Patri, Et Fili, Spiritus Sancti." She held the shard over her head as Doyle made to leap for her. The man with the book also dove for her at seeing her intention. "NO!" They both shouted just as a blue light engulfed Kerry and she vanished with its dying light.
Kerry used her face as a stopper as she hit the ground hard, smacking her chin on the rocky terrain. She heard a voice in the distance, headed her way. It was singing a familiar tune. She didn't waste time pondering her aching chin she merely leapt into the nearby bushes. She peered out as a horse pulling a small wooden wagon moved near. She felt her heart sink, she recognized the man in armor and a white tunic with a red cross on the chest. She ducked further in the bushes as she watched Father Advernge pass. She felt a little light headed as she saw herself completely unconscious in the cart, a blood stained bandage drawn across she left shoulder. Instinctively her hand when to the spot where the wound had been, it had been centuries since she earned that wound and she still remembered receiving it.
There was a lot in her past she wished she could wipe away, a good deal she wished she could erase, but it could not be removed. She had lived so long and weathered so much but she let little of it change her, she stayed strong and vigilant in her convictions. Though there was little she wished for more than a normal gargoyle existence, despite the fact that with that she would have long since been dust – but that was another thing she didn't linger on…that which she couldn't change. When the cart was well out of view she dashed out into the road opposite her old friend and other self's direction; she headed toward the camp she had spent many a night at during the Crusades when she and her clan assisted the Knight's Templar in their missions.