Chapter 16

Siroc paced the floor of his laboratory, barely even noting the fact that Ramon had brought food in with him. Jacqueline had left for the palace several hours before and still had not returned. Needless to say, the immortal was worried.

Ramon watched his friend. "Keep pacing like that, amigo, and you're going to wear a hole in the floor."

The inventor glared, but stopped pacing and dropped into a nearby chair. "She should've been back by now, Ramon. What if something's happened?"

"Relax. I'm sure she's fine. For all we know, she and the King are still busy with whatever he called her to the palace to discuss."

"Either that, or Bernard's found her and her headless corpse is lying in a ditch somewhere." Siroc shot up out of the chair, grabbing his sword and jacket. "That's it…I'm going out to look for her."

"Fine," Ramon said, rising to his feet as well. "I'm coming with you."

"And do what? Lull the headhunter to sleep with your poetry?"

The Spaniard glared. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Ramon…." Siroc trailed off, stiffening as something set off his senses. Near as he could tell, it was coming from the stables. He quickly moved to investigate, not even bothering to argue as Ramon followed.

By the time he got there, whoever it was seemed to be gone. And yet, he could still feel a presence. Looking around, he finally caught sight of Jacqueline's horse in its stall, still in its tack and with a blanket-covered something lying across the saddle. A piece of parchment was stuck to the front of the stall, which he quickly grabbed and opened.

Will,

Saw you at that memorial earlier. Not very inconspicuous these days, are we? Whatever happened to blending in with the masses?

Anyway, I found something that I'm pretty sure belongs to you. Might want to keep a better watch from now on, before anything bad happens. It's under the blanket.

-Amanda

P.S.—You'll find Her Majesty's jewels in the right-hand saddlebag. Tempting as it was to keep them, I get the feeling that being on the musketeers' bad side would be hazardous to my health.

"Who's Will?" Ramon asked, having read the note over Siroc's shoulder.

Siroc folded up the parchment and stuck in into his shirt. "I'm Will. It's an old alias…one I haven't used since the twelfth century."

He let out a low whistle. "So I take it this 'Amanda' is a really old friend of yours."

"Old, yes. Friend…that's debatable." Wondering what Amanda was up to, he went into the stall and yanked the blanket away to reveal Jacqueline. She'd been bound hand and foot, gagged with an old handkerchief, and stripped of all but her shirt and undergarments. And Siroc was willing to bet that any money she'd been carrying was gone as well.

She looked up at him, and he scowled. Any other time, Siroc might've found her predicament rather humorous. However, the fact that she'd obviously disobeyed him far outweighed the potential for amusement.

Ignoring her for the moment, he went to the saddlebag the note had indicated and, sure enough, it was filled with jewels. A quick search confirmed that most of the Queen's valuables were present and accounted for. There might be a few pieces missing, but nothing that couldn't be easily replaced. Satisfied, he handed the bag off to Ramon.

"Would you mind returning these to the palace?"

"Sí," he nodded.

"And do it quietly. No need to set off a manhunt. Even the Bastille couldn't hold Amanda for very long, anyway."

"Of course." As Ramon left, Siroc drew a dagger and went back inside the stall. This time, he caught sight of Jacqueline's things—including both of her swords—piled in the rear corner. Shaking his head, he cut her bonds and let her slide unceremoniously from the saddle.

Once she hit the floor, Jacqueline quickly pulled the gag from her own mouth. She would've said something, but Siroc's furious gaze was enough to keep her silent.

"Get dressed and get that horse taken care of. When you've recovered what's left of your dignity, meet me in the lab." Siroc sheathed his dagger, then turned on his heel and stalked away from the stables.

Cheeks burning in humiliation, Jacqueline pulled on her pants and boots, then proceeded to remove the mare's tack and brush her down. When she finished, she gathered the rest of her things and trudged back to the lab, stomach knotting itself in dread of what was to come.

She knocked on the door, opening it slowly when Siroc gave her permission to enter. He didn't acknowledge her right away, so she sat her belongings on one of the few empty worktables and sat down in a chair, turning her eyes to the floor.

"What happened?" he finally asked, not even looking at her. His voice betrayed no emotion as he spoke, and that scared Jacqueline even more than the angry glare he'd given her in the stables, as it gave her absolutely no idea how he was going to react. She stayed silent for a moment, and then, taking a deep breath, told him everything that took place after she left the palace. When Jacqueline finished, she looked up, her breath caught in her throat as she waited for his response.

After several minutes of tense silence, Siroc finally turned to look at her, angrier than she'd ever seen him before. "Let me get this straight," he ground out. "You felt another immortal as you walked out of the palace, and you decided to confront her? What in Hades were you thinking?"

"I-I don't know, Siroc. My gut said to check it out, and that's what I did."

"I see…and if your gut told you to jump in front of a cannon, would you do that as well?"

"If it meant saving someone's life, I would."

Siroc rolled his eyes. "Great…first student I have in centuries, and she has a bloody death wish."

"That's not fair," she snapped, jumping to her feet.

Siroc faced her nose to nose. "Isn't it? Jacqueline, what did I tell you before you left?"

She stepped back a bit. "To head to holy ground if I felt another immortal."

"Did you do that?" She shook her head, dropping her gaze once more. "Why not?"

"I already told you—"

"I don't care if Gabriel and his band of bloody angels descended from on high. From now on, when I tell you to do something, you do it."

"Who died and made you boss?"

"Technically, you did. How many times to I have to tell you, Jacqueline? This isn't a game! Amanda could've killed you tonight!"

"But she didn't!"

"That's hardly the point. Do you have any idea how lucky you are to still be alive right now? What if it hadn't been Amanda you confronted tonight? What if it had been someone actually looking to take your head? Bernard, for instance. Had that been the case, you and I wouldn't even be speaking right now. You'd be dead, and I'd be cleaning your headless corpse off of the palace lawn. Is that what you want?"

"Of course not."

"Then you'd better start taking this seriously, Jacqueline. I won't teach someone who thinks that 'immortal' means invincible. Last time I tried that, he didn't even survive his first challenge. I don't want that to happen to you."

She looked at the floor. "It won't."

"Are you sure about that?"

"You said—"

"I know what I said, Jacqueline. But Bernard isn't one to play by the rules, either. Honor and nobility are nice ideals to aspire to, but they can also get you killed really fast. Tonight should be a pretty good example. Amanda may not be the best swordswoman I've ever seen, but she's good enough to have survived 800 years—which is about 790 years more practice than you've had, give or take. And yet, you allowed your sense of duty to blind you to that fact, and it nearly cost you your head. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

She glanced up at him. "I-I think so."

"Good. Now get to bed. We'll talk more in the morning. Hopefully, by then all of this will have sunken in, and we can start with some real training." Nodding, Jacqueline gathered her things and slunk back to her quarters, tail tucked between her legs. Once she'd gone, Siroc allowed his carefully constructed walls to fall. He sank down against one of his larger inventions, crying. Jacqueline had really scared him tonight. The thought of losing her—it was unbearable. He'd sooner let Bernard take him again.

Of course, there was no way he could tell her any of that. Those sorts of feelings between a teacher and student were a disaster waiting to happen—a lesson he'd learned the hard way from his own teacher well over a millennium ago. No, it was better to try and maintain his distance for now…get her through her first century, at least, and then see if anything develops.

There was another knock at the door, and Siroc shot to his feet, quickly composing himself. "Come in." The door opened to reveal Captain Duval, who had a look of concern on his face.

Duval looked around. "Everything okay in here, Private? I thought I heard yelling."

"It's fine, Captain. Just a bit of personal business between myself and Jacques."

"Alright…if you say so." He turned to leave.

"Actually," Siroc called, getting Duval to turn back. "I do have a request."

"Oh?"

"If it's not too much trouble, Sir, Jacques and I are going to need about a month's leave."

Duval frowned. "Why a month?"

He shrugged. "Personal business. I know it seems like an awfully long time to be away from the garrison, but I assure you it's absolutely necessary."

Duval thought it over for a few moments, absently scratching his chin. "Absolutely necessary, you say?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Well…I suppose I could manage without you two for a month. But not until after the coronation. His Majesty insists that all three of you be there."

Siroc nodded. "Fair enough. Wouldn't want to disobey an order from the King now, would I?"

"Then it's settled. After the coronation, you and Jacques can have a month's leave to do…whatever it is you two need to do."

"Thank you, Sir."

"No need to thank me, Private. Just make sure you two make it back in one piece."

"I plan to."

"Glad to hear it. Goodnight Private."

"Captain." With a slight nod, Captain Duval turned and exited the lab, leaving Siroc alone once more. Sleep was out of the question for him at this point, so he simply returned to work on Louis' Impenetrable to pass the time and give him something to think about other than Jacqueline's close call.

As Duval walked out of the lab, he caught sight of Ramon in the hallway. Absently scratching at his left wrist, the captain made his way over to his Spanish recruit. "My office," he whispered. "Now." He walked away, leaving the very confused Spaniard little choice but to follow.