Chapter 24

Things between the two immortals were a bit awkward the next morning, given the night's revelations, but they somehow managed to carry on as though nothing had changed. They made small talk as they broke their fast and packed up their gear, but neither mentioned anything about whatever feelings they did or did not have for the other. Jacqueline was a bit frustrated, seeing him shut back down so soon after finally opening up to her, but she let it go...there would be plenty of time for that after they took care of Bernard and his henchman.

They rode out of their camp as soon as their things were safely stowed in their saddlebags, wanting to reach the appointed site as quickly as possible. Siroc was a bundle of nerves, constantly scrutinizing their surroundings and checking to make sure his sword was handy, and Jacqueline wasn't faring much better. She didn't think she'd have much trouble with Maurice, but couldn't help but worry about how her comrade would fare against his former master. Despite her reassurances to the contrary, she feared that Bernard would manage to get inside Siroc's head and use those horrible memories against him. All she could do, though, was pray that he'd be strong enough to resist the former centurion's mind games and do what needed to be done.

Jacqueline's musings were cut short by the elder immortal, who'd brought his mount to a rather abrupt stop. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" As if to answer her question, arrows suddenly started whizzing past them, one even grazing her arm before she could move out of the way. "What the hell...? she muttered, grabbing a low-hanging tree branch and pulling herself up to safety the way Rebecca had shown her. Siroc, meanwhile, had abandoned his own mount and ducked behind the trunk.

"What in blazes are you doing up there?" he hissed.

"Never mind that," she shot back, not really in the mood to discuss Rebecca's lessons. "Who the hell is shooting at us?" Peering through the foliage, she finally caught sight of the archers, all of whom were dressed up in what appeared to be ancient Roman armor. "Friends of yours?" she asked, pointing them out to her comrade.

"They're Beltranus'," he whispered. "I recognize the insignia on their banner." He swore in some ancient tongue Jacqueline didn't understand, though the intent was clear. "I should've seen this coming...he's doing everything he can to remind me of our past."

"By sending men out in ancient armor?"

He nodded. "I don't know who they are or how much he's offered them, but they're wearing the same uniform as his legionnaires...right down to the bloody sandals. The same legionnaires who stood by and let him treat me the way he did, without so much as a word." He shook his head, making himself as small as he could against the tree trunk. "I can't do this," he muttered. "I can't face him...not this way."

The deluge of arrows stopped for a moment, and Jacqueline peeked out to see the archers just standing there, waiting. Taking advantage of the respite, she quietly dropped down next to Siroc, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Yes, you can," she assured him. "You run now, you're playing right into his hands...giving him exactly what he wants. Between the two of us, I know we can take these guys down and still have plenty left for Beltranus and Maurice."

"Jacqueline, you don't-" She cut him off with a kiss, which had the intended effect of shocking him out of his fearful protests. It felt pretty good too, but there would be time to figure out that part later.

"Let's go...take the fight to them before they find something else to lob at us."

He nodded. "W-whatever you say."

"Good." She thought for a moment, then frowned. "Any ideas?"

"How many are there?" he asked, straightening up a bit.

"I counted three, maybe four archers, and about a dozen or so others."

"So we're outnumbered at least six to one."

"Looks that way," Jacqueline nodded. "How well do you think he trained them?"

Siroc shrugged. "Who knows? Chances are, though, that they're meant to be little more than cannon fodder...a way to try and wear us down before he makes his big entrance."

"So what's the plan?"

"We split up...you go to the right, I'll go to the left. They'll have to divide their forces to deal with both of us, giving us a better chance than if we charged them head-on. Take them out as quickly as you can, before you-know-who decides to show himself."

"Take them out?"

"You heard me," he said, drawing his gladius. "I know how Beltranus operates. Leaving any of them alive would be a mistake-trust me."

"Whatever you say," Jacqueline muttered half-heartedly, rather dismayed at her comrade's apparent willingness to slaughter those men like sheep. Either unaware of or unconcerned with her reaction, Siroc took off, slipping through the trees with ease. Shaking her head, she quickly followed suit in the opposite direction, though she didn't retrieve her blade. Rather, she snuck up behind a 'legionnaire' near the edge of the group and, after knocking him with a quick blow to the back of his neck, claimed the spear he'd been holding and snapped off the point, turning it into a staff.

Unfortunately, this action did not go unnoticed by the others. Several more arrows were shot in her direction, which she deftly avoided, only to find herself surrounded. As predicted, about half of the group was focused on her, while the rest were dealing with Siroc, who she could see near the other end of the small clearing, his blade flashing in the sunlight as he fought the pseudo-Romans. Twirling her makeshift staff, Jacqueline took a moment to assess her situation. The men had formed a small circle around her, with two of the archers standing just outside of it with their bows trained on her position. Most were armed with short swords, not unlike Siroc's, though a couple of them were holding spears like the one she'd just confiscated. And, oddly enough, they seemed to be waiting for her to make the first move.

"Look," she said, not wanting to play Bernard's sick little game. "I don't know what he's paying you, but I can assure you it's not worth it. Withdraw now, and I won't be forced to give you the beating of your lives." The men just laughed at that statement, and she felt her cheeks burning in humiliation. "I'm serious! I don't want to hurt anyone, but that doesn't mean I won't." Still laughing, one of the spear-wielders thrust forward in an attempt to knock her staff from her hands. She quickly retaliated. In one smooth, well-practiced maneuver, she knocked his weapon aside and broke his nose with the end of hers.

This was enough to spur the rest into action. They surged forward, but were driven back by the continued twirling of her staff-which, as intended, gave her a bit more space to work.

"Come on," she taunted. "Is no one else man enough to fight me?" A few more tried their luck, only to be beaten back in much the same manner as the first. Jacqueline may not have wanted to kill anyone, but she had no problem leaving them with a few bruises and broken bones. Give them something to think about.

One man got in a lucky shot, slicing her staff in half. Unfortunately for him, all that did was double her weapons, as she used the two halves to knock both him and one of his comrades senseless. She broke one of the halves over the head of a third man and, after a few more blows with what remained of her staff, discarded it in favor of a sword that one of the thugs had dropped.

But just as Jacqueline was moving to take possession of the blade, a searing pain went through her right leg, sending her crashing to her knees. Looking down, she saw an arrow sticking out of her thigh, the arrowhead having gone straight through her flesh. She reached down to remove it, only to find several swords pointed at her throat...more than there should've been, given the number of opponents she'd already incapacitated. Glancing to her left, she saw Siroc in a similar position, save for the fact that the arrow had gone through his shoulder instead of his leg.

Wordlessly, one of the men bound her hands behind her while the rest held her at sword point. A moment later, she bit back a scream as she was hauled to her feet and the arrow roughly yanked from her thigh. "What do you want?" she demanded through clenched teeth. Obviously, Siroc's 'cannon fodder' theory was way off.

"Boss is waitin' for ya," was the only reply she got before a sack was shoved over her head. In moments, she found herself being force-marched through the forest. She could feel Siroc nearby, presumably being treated in much the same fashion. He didn't seem to be putting up much of a fight, from what she could hear, and that worried her. What if Bernard's mind games were working?

Soon, Jacqueline felt the ancient's presence, and shortly thereafter her captors shoved her to her knees and yanked the sack away. Blinking against the sunlight, she got a good look at her surroundings-an old jousting arena, it appeared, complete with half-rotted banners flapping feebly in the wind above the stands. Siroc was right next to her, trembling and paler than she'd ever seen him. And it wasn't long before the reason for his reaction became clear.

Standing before them was Bernard...or rather, Beltranus, resplendent in his polished bronze armor. The monster of Siroc's nightmares, come to life. "Welcome," he boomed, a triumphant grin spreading across his features. "How good of you to join us."

"Like we had a choice," Jacqueline shot back. "Is this your idea of a fair fight? Are you planning to take our heads while we kneel here, bound and helpless?"

"Tempting...but hardly sporting. What kind of monster do you take me for?"

"I really don't think you want me to answer that," she spat, glaring. "Enough games, Bernard...untie us now so we can get this over with."

Laughing, Bernard reached forward and seized her chin. "Not so fast, girl. I want you to witness my triumph over this pathetic little worm you call a teacher." As he spoke, she stole a glance at Siroc, who still seemed frozen with terror. "Then," Bernard continued, "you and Maurice can have your fun."

She spat in his face. "You take Siroc's head, and I'll have yours before the quickening is even finished."

Releasing his grip, he wiped the spittle from his cheek and shook his head. "No...you won't. I can see it in your eyes. You're not a killer...not really"

"Try me."

"We'll see." He gestured to his men, who quickly dragged her off to one side. As they did, she caught sight of Maurice nearby. He was dressed similarly to the hired thugs, only with less armor. Held in place by two of Bernard's thugs, she watched as Siroc's bonds were cut and his gladius thrust back into his hands. He shakily rose to his feet, and it was painfully obvious that fear still had hold of him.

"Snap out of it, Siroc!" she called out. "Don't-" One of the thugs punched her in the stomach, cutting her off. Luckily, it seemed that what she'd said had at least some effect. Siroc appeared to have regained a bit of his confidence, twirling his blade as he and his former master circled each other.

With Bernard distracted, Jacqueline decided it was time to make her move. Whispering the words Rebecca had taught her, she summoned her sword and, after cutting herself free, knocked out the guards holding her, plus several others who tried to stop her. Soon, the only one left was Maurice, who immediately turned and ran out of the arena. Swearing under her breath, she gave chase, catching up to him on a hillside a short distance away. "Alone at last," she drawled, moving towards him. "Let's get this over with, shall we?"

Nodding slowly, Maurice drew his own blade and lunged. Unfortunately for him, the rather clumsy effort resulted in him being quickly disarmed and driven to his knees. Shaking her head, Jacqueline put her blade to his throat, ready to deliver the final blow. But looking at him there, quivering in fear after his pathetic attempt at offense, she just couldn't bring herself to do it. "Go," she ordered, backing up a pace.

"W-what?"

"You heard me. Your master was right...I'm not a killer. I won't stain my soul by ending your miserable existence. So take what little's left of your dignity and run...now." He scrambled to his feet and, still shaking her head in disgust, she turned to watch Siroc. Big mistake. A second later, she heard footsteps running in her direction and, out of some latent immortal instinct, swung her blade towards the sound. Maurice's head flew from his shoulders, his sword fell from suddenly nerveless fingers, and the body collapsed in a boneless heap. "Damn you!" Jacqueline spat, once she realized what she'd done. "Why couldn't you just run?" She stuck the tip of her blade into the ground and dropped to her knees, leaning on it for support. Though she knew what had to come next, nothing anyone had said on the matter could possibly have prepared her for the real thing, as she'd soon discover.

Kneeling next to the corpse, she watched in amazement as a white mist rose from it and drifted towards her. The next thing she knew, her whole body felt as if it were on fire. Her limbs thrashed about as if they had wills of their own, while her mind was assaulted with flashes of memories...of Maurice's short, pathetic existence...street rat to lackey, and not much else. And mixed with the physical and mental assault was a sort of pleasure that she couldn't explain...a sensation that sickened and thrilled her at the same time.

Then, almost as suddenly as it'd begun, it was over. However, some of the effects seemed to linger. She could still feel the memories swirling around in her head as they integrated themselves, as well this odd, indescribable need to be...touched. Not that she could do anything about the latter at the moment. Though she wasn't in a hurry to experience it again anytime soon, she could understand how some immortals became addicted to the quickening...some of the sensations were quite intoxicating.

After losing what little was in her stomach, she rose unsteadily and started back towards the arena, praying that Siroc was still alive.

****************

Meanwhile, the sight of the quickening caused the two combatants in the arena to pause. So far, Siroc-incapable of completely shaking off his fear of his former tormentor-had just barely been able to hold his own against the larger, more experienced immortal, and now the only thing he could think of was Jacqueline. Beltranus laughed. "Don't worry, little 'Ganymede,'" he taunted. "You'll be joining her soon enough."

"W-what makes you think it's hers?"

"What makes you think it isn't?" He took a swing at Siroc, which the younger immortal narrowly avoided. "I taught my student to win by any means necessary. And yours...well...she lacks that 'killer' instinct. Probably didn't take Maurice very long at all." That did it. The thought of Jacqueline's death overriding his fear, Siroc charged Beltranus, intent on tackling him to the ground. Unfortunately, the elder immortal anticipated this reaction and stepped aside, laughing. A moment later, his sword was at the blonde's throat. "Pathetic. You were weak back in Rome, and you're weak now."

"Then what are you waiting for?" Siroc shot back. "Do it!"

"With pleasure." Beltranus raised his blade, ready to strike the killing blow.

***************

When Jacqueline reentered the arena, the sight that greeted her was the one she'd dreaded: Siroc on the ground, and Bernard preparing to take his head.

"Siroc!"

At her cry, both men looked at her, shocked. And the distraction was precisely what Siroc needed. Jacqueline watched as her comrade brought his blade to bear on the ex-centurion, sliding it through a gap in the elder immortal's armor and into his stomach. Bernard's eyes went wide as he dropped to his knees. "T-that's not possible," he gasped.

"Apparently, it is." He looked at Jacqueline for a moment, then returned his attention to his former master. "It's over, Beltranus. You can't hurt me anymore."

"Go to hell!"

"You first," Siroc said, raising his blade. "Illic can exsisto unus! (There can be only one!)" He swung for Bernard's neck, and it was over. Jacqueline watched in fascination as the white mist rose from his corpse and entered Siroc. A moment later, the quickening began, sending chills down her spine and making her hair stand on end. From the outside, it looked just as he'd described it-a freak lightning storm. But she knew that in reality, thousands of years worth of memories were being shoved into his head all at once, accompanied by the odd pain/pleasure combination.

The quickening seemed to take forever-probably because of Bernard's age. When it finally dissipated, Jacqueline ran to Siroc's side, throwing her arms around him as he knelt, trying to regain his bearings. "Are you alright?"

"Never better," he nodded. He captured her lips in a searing kiss, and she responded eagerly, the quickening-induced urges still running rampant. However, she was at least able to control herself enough to suggest finding an inn, to which he'd readily agreed, claiming Bernard's purse from his corpse to pay for it.

"Siroc?" she asked several hours later, once their urges had finally been sated. It wasn't exactly how she'd pictured her first time, and it was a little disconcerting to have such primal need created by the act of taking someone's head, but she didn't regret it. Still...one post-quickening romp hardly constituted a relationship. They needed to figure out where to go from there...starting with the matter she'd been avoiding for most of the month.

"Yes?"

"Would you...uh...be offended if I said I wanted a different teacher?"

Siroc rolled over to face her, propping himself up on his elbow. "A different teacher? Like who?"

She sighed. "Rebecca. She offered to teach me herself, if I wanted it."

"Have you said yes?"

"Not yet. I wanted to talk to you first."

He smiled, running his fingers through her short hair-it was starting to grow back, but was still nowhere near the way it used to be. Not that he was complaining. "Maybe it's just me, but I actually find your hair rather attractive this way. It kind of reminds me of an...old friend," he said, blushing slightly.

"I'm flattered...I think. But that doesn't answer my question."

"Jacqueline, I have absolutely no objection to you letting Rebecca take over as your teacher. In fact, I think it's a great idea."

Her eyebrow shot up. "You do?"

"I know my methods can be kind of...well...harsh. For the sake of our relationship...whatever it is now...it would probably be better if I wasn't your teacher. I wouldn't want to ruin things by being a hard-ass. Besides, Rebecca's one of the best. You learn from her, I can guarantee you'll be around for a good long time."

"Thank you," she smiled, giving him a brief kiss. A moment later, she frowned. "Wait...we're due back at the garrison soon. How am I supposed to work with Rebecca at the abbey and still do my duties?"

Siroc chuckled. "Don't worry...I'm sure Rebecca has a plan for that. She wouldn't have offered otherwise."

"Good point," Jacqueline nodded. "So...what is this, exactly?" she asked, pointing to him and then herself. "I mean...are we lovers now? Or is this just a one-time deal?"

"We've got all the time in the world to figure that out," he whispered, trailing kisses along her neck. "Let's just enjoy this moment for what it is, before we have to return to the real world."

"Works for me. Should we mention this to Rebecca and Ramon?"

"Hell no," he laughed. "Gods forbid they think their little matchmaking scheme actually worked."

"You're mean," she chuckled, lightly slapping him on the arm.

"You know you love it."

"Yes...I do." Their lips met once more, and the couple fell back onto the bed, swiftly banishing all thoughts of duty and immortals from their minds.