**Ok, ok, so here it is. I know I told some people Saturday, but uh...this chapter didn't want to end, lol. Thank you reviewing me, I do not know how to express just how much it means to me to hear from you. I hope you guys like this l-o-o-o-ong chapter. I tried to shorten it, I really did. It was actually going to be longer cause I wanted to bring in a certain character everyone has been asking about...but she'll have to wait for Chapter 9 ;).**
Chapter 8
Allen had to admit he was getting a little bored in his sedentary position watching the girl work her magic. She had been sitting in the same position for hours leaning slightly forward over the map he'd given her, holding her pendant over it. The small stone swung back and forth lightly, but it was giving her no indication of where the boy king could be. Her honey flavored skin was beginning to trickle with light perspiration. Was she becoming feverish? He removed a silken handkerchief from his breast pocket and dabbed her forehead with it lightly, startling her from her trance. Good, maybe she would realize how stiff she had gotten and stop for a bit, he was ready to stretch his legs, but felt obligated to sit with the girl as she concentrated. "Do you want to rest for a while?"
Take the bait...take the bait....
"No, please let me keep trying," she said softly, she never raised her eyes from her dowsing project.
Line snapped...he sighed.
"I just wish we had something of Van's here, it could help me get a hold of his essence and pinpoint his location."
"We do!" Allen's eyes shifted to Merle who'd been curled up watching Hitomi tirelessly from a wooden bench. She sat up and leaned across the small table holding out a cloth bandage, "Remember? Lord Van made this for me when I first came, and I was hurt. Can you use this?"
Hitomi gave Merle a wan smile, "Yes!" Merle placed her hand holding the dressing over Hitomi's.
"What else can we do?"
"Just try to picture him, in your mind." Allen wanted to roll his eyes, but he had to be supportive. He had after all condoned this, and Gaddes would tease him for weeks afterward when it turned out to be a flop. He was always accusing Allen of dispensing of some of his good sense when it came to women. It was rather insulting. He controlled his facial expression, and placed his hand over Merle's. He tried to clear his head and think of nothing but Van. The kid was annoying, but Allen was actually starting to like him, and he didn't wish rotting in a cell in Zaibach on anyone.
Their arms were moving as the pendant swung like a magnet being attracted to a force. Allen knew he was not moving his own arm, and he honestly didn't think Hitomi or Merle would either. The magic was actually working. He didn't doubt the girl had a talent, she had after all figured out half of his life's story, and if she had gone on would have told him who he was to marry in the future, and if he lost his teeth in his old age before he died. He just wasn't as faithful in her dowsing experiment...
Their hands stopped as the pendant hoovered over a place on the map, swinging in a small circle, and Hitomi gasped, her eyes going round as if she was being struck by a vision. "That's the place where the wandering earth collects..." Allen stared at the map, and at the place the pendant was circling.
"The wandering earth?" Hitomi asked as if that was the weirdest thing she'd ever heard in her life.
"Yes, levistones just like the ones this ship uses," he kept his hand over Hitomi's, the girl's skin was moist.
"That is the perfect place for that floating fortress to hide!" Gaddes had leapt up from the chair he was sitting in just behind Allen. Guess he wasn't asleep after all... Allen gazed over at Hitomi, to see how she was taking the information. She had been successful after all, she should be walking on air. She smiled slightly, her eyes a bit glassy, before she slumped backward in her chair in a boneless heap. "Hitomi!" Allen quickly put a supporting hand behind her head, and another about her waist.
"Is she ok?"
"I'm fine...just tired. So, what do we do next? Are we going to this place?"
"Yes we are," Allen answered her, "It's time to get Van."
"And some payback," Gaddes uttered, "nobody burns down our castle and gets away with it."
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Shesta blinked at the dark haired boy, hiding a smirk. He was sizing the king up, but the monarch probably thought he was panicking at the thought of him killing his leader. Lord Dilandau's first lesson had been to keep your expressions unreadable, that way the enemy could never tell just what you might be planning or thinking about. His second lesson, pay attention to the small details, like the slight trembling in the boy's hand as he held the sword, and the way his eyes shifted quickly from Shesta to Dilandau every few seconds. The boy had never had to kill a person so directly before, in fact, he'd probably never killed anyone at all. He looked for an opening....
The boy king was a second too late in response, Shesta surged toward his wrist quick as lightning, catching the top of the pommel of the Fanelian blade knocking the sword upward toward ceiling. It was just enough to get the cutting edge away from Dilandau's neck, and surprise the king enough to make him lose his footing. Shesta tripped him easily and then put himself in front of Dilandau baring his teeth in an angry grimace, how dare he enter his room and threaten his Lord? Who did he think he was? "Slayers, we have an intruder!" he yelled, knowing Miguel and Dallet were probably still dawdling in the hallway waiting for him. Miguel, having no intention of joining Viole any sooner than he had to, and Dallet...well Dallet was the dependable sort that didn't like to know that any of his friends wandered the halls alone when there were new soldiers aboard the Vione that could take advantage of them.
As predicted, Miguel and Dallet crashed in, swords ready. The boy king was already rolling away from Shesta and getting to his feet prepared to defend himself. Miguel charged at him furiously, his intent to kill. Shesta stayed near Dilandau watching Miguel and the king lock into a deadly tango of sharp edges and skill. Dallet sidestepped Miguel and the dark haired despot, and came to Shesta who still held his blade at attention, had the king any surprises to spring on them. "Is he alright?" Dallet barked at Shesta, looking at Lord Dilandau briefly but keeping his eyes on the fight.
"The sedative Folken gave him... He hasn't woken up at all. Get him out of here, now!"
Dallet nodded, sheathing his sword and carefully pulling Dilandau's limp body over his shoulders in a fireman carry. "I've got your back," Shesta told him, and crab -stepped in front of him as he made for the door with his precious bundle. Once Dallet was out the door, Shesta went to help Miguel. The king was rather good, and Miguel was struggling a bit, and losing a little ground.
"What the hell is going on?" Biore rushed into the room followed by Ryuuon. "Oh shit! Someone sound the alarm a prisoner has escaped!"
"Give us room!" Miguel grunted at the Second Stringers clogging the doorway, Shesta and Gatty's room was not very spacious, and the furniture that he kept having to kick over or vault was not helping. Shesta was doing all he could to stay out of the way and get behind the king, but the king was good at swinging out to the side and parrying Shesta anytime he came too close.
Loud bells erupted around their heads from the speaker system installed into each room on the Vione. "That wasn't necessary, the only thing extra help will be picking up is your corpse, your majesty!" Miguel lunged, eyes going wide as he was circumvented and tripped.
"My corpse? You sure about that?"
Shesta jumped onto Gatty's bed using the spring to give him extra height to execute a flying kick. He struck the king at an angle in his right shoulder blade, bringing him down to the floor with his weight. He straightened his body a bit using his armored elbow to turn the enemy's sword sideways so he could land on it with harming himself, and render it useless. He knew he looked ridiculous sitting flat on his behind on the floor, but pinned underneath him was the king's weapon. The time it took for them to hit the floor, was enough time for Miguel to back spring into a fighting stance. He surged forward stepping on the king's sword hand, making his fingers release the blade. Then he lowered his own sword to the monarch's throat, "Yes, your corpse...I'm sure about it."
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Folken nearly dropped the petri dish he held at the sound of the alarms. He checked the clock on the wall. The tranquilizer he gave Van shouldn't wear off for
another 2 hours, but something told him he'd better go check on him.
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"Lord Dilandau!" Dallet felt uncomfortable shaking his captain, but he had to make sure he hadn't lapsed into a state of unconsciousness.
"Move Dallet," a tall girl with reddish brown hair moved him aside. She knelt beside Dilandau and pulled back one of his eyelids, nodding in satisfaction as the pupil retracted at the sudden exposure to light. She then tilted back his head, placing a hand on his forehead, then on his chin, and leaned in with her face near his mouth and nose to listen to his breathing, and watch his chest rise and fall. Keeping her hand on his forehead, she put two fingers to his Adam's apple, then slid them over to time his pulse to the minute.
"What happened?" Gatty pushed past the Second and Third Stringers guarding the door to enter the room, Guimel and Viole followed. He gasped when he recognized Dilandau lying on Dallet's unmade bed in a rescue position with Refina hoovering over him.
"The King of Fanelia escaped, and tried to kill Lord Dilandau in his sleep I presume. Shesta was the one there, and stopped him. He and Miguel were fighting him in the next room. They were making a lot of noise, and now they're not."
"Son of a bitch..." Viole uttered, "We were gone all of 5 minutes! How did he get out of a prison cell without any of the alarms sounding? What kind of guards did Folken hire?"
"Not very good ones...and I don't know how he got past all of the alarms down there. I have the system memorized and I still always manage to trip one of them," Guimel scratched his head. "We should see about the mess next door... Viole, you coming?"
Viole nodded distractedly watching Dallet, Refina, and Gatty crowding the bed trying to coax Dilandau awake. He followed after Guimel reluctantly.
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Van kept his head bowed as his hands were bound behind his back, and he was yanked roughly to his feet by the blond Slayer who'd ruined his plan. He'd thought for sure the baby-faced swordsman would drop to his knees begging him not to hurt his master. He'd lost control of the situation terribly, and the only reason why he still had his head, was because Baby-face had told the handsome brown haired avenger to back off. Avenger was not pleased, he snorted and kept his sword out ready to cut Van if he so much as made a funny face at him. Van was marched out of the room with Baby-face and Avenger on either side of him. Eight Dragonslayers stood in the corridor glaring at him darkly, and Van fought the impulse to gulp. They looked like they wanted to draw straws on who was going to get the honor of decapitating him. Two more Slayers entered the hallway and marched passed the ones lining the walls. They stopped in front of Van, Baby-face, and Avenger. Both wore very stony expressions on their perfect faces. The one who looked like a cherub, curly blond hair and all, spat on him. The one who resembled one of those dangerous spirits in the woods that attracted men then drowned them, punched him in the gut. He made a small noise as the air whooshed out of him.
"What are we going to do with him?" Cherub asked.
"Kill him," Avenger said drolly.
"Toss him off the bridge!" Spirit pumped his fists.
"No, he might enjoy the fall," Avenger sneered.
"Kill him, now. We cut off his head," Cherub suggested.
"Too neat, it has to hurt," Avenger argued.
"We take him to Folken," Baby-face interrupted their debate. "Lord Dilandau is incapacitated, so our next commanding official is Folken."
"Why do you always have to be so by the books about everything? He tried to..."
"I KNOW what he tried to do!" Baby-face fumed. "But he failed, and it's no good spoiling a mission over a failed attempt. There is nothing to seek revenge for. Emperor Dornkirk and Lord Folken need this asswipe for something."
Spirit chortled, anger momentarily dissipated, "You said 'asswipe.'"
"Shut up Viole!"
"Can we beat him up a little before we take him to Folken?"
"No," Baby-face rolled his eyes. "Viole, you and Guimel go down and head off any more soldiers coming to this wing. Tell them the problem has been taken care off."
"Actually when the soldiers looked and saw what area the alarm had been pulled from, they all went the other way."
"Incompetents, what if there had really been a problem," Avenger grumbled. "Though I'm sure they'd rejoice if something unfortunate were to happen to us."
"Forget it," Baby-face said, "Come on, Folken's probably in his..." he broke off as the Slayers further down the hall began to bow. Van's brother had arrived.
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"His pulse is a little slow, it's right at 60," Refina removed her fingers from Dilandau's neck, and cautiously rested a hand on his forehead. "He's hot."
"Yeah," Gatty nodded. "He was running a fever yesterday, after the battle. Folken had him in the infirmary."
"Why isn't he still there?"
"You know Lord Dilandau. Do you think he'd stay in there after he woke up?"
"No," Refina shook her head. The door opened and Dallet rushed back in holding a glass of water and a small face cloth, "Lord Folken's here, he's going to take the king away."
"Good."
Gatty took the glass and towel from Dallet and handed it to Refina who damped the cloth and began to swab Dilandau's face with it. He gave a light moan, and all three Slayers let out a collective sigh of relief. The muscles around his mouth twitched, and his eyelids began to flutter. "Lord Dilandau, can you hear me?" Refina asked, she wet the cloth again, and laid it over his forehead.
The hazy red eyes opened a slit, then snapped closed in annoyance. The thin body rolled over onto its side, away from Gatty and Refina, toward Dallet. The wet towel slid off his forehead onto the bed. "Lord Dilandau?"
Dilandau pulled his knees to his chest and shifted around a bit for more comfort.
"Well...he's not unconscious," Refina remarked, she smiled at how young he looked curled on his side like a small child. "We should let him sleep, seeing as he's not feeling well."
Gatty nodded, and Dallet pulled the top blanket off of Guimel's bed to cover Dilandau. "I'll sit in here with him," he volunteered.
Gatty nodded, "Refina too, since she knows first aid better than us and all. I'll go out and see what's going on, and keep you posted."
Gatty left the room and stepped into the clearing hallway. Slayers were going back to their rooms, brushing by him as he shut the door to the room behind him. Soon the only people left still standing in the hall were Guimel, Viole, Shesta, and Miguel, and each of their faces was a different variation of pissed. "Guys?"
"The alarms didn't go off when the king escaped his cell, because he wasn't in a cell, Gatty," Shesta hissed, his voice low and eyes narrowed.
"What?" Gatty was confused.
"Folken's keeping King Van in his bedroom," Miguel clarified with an ugly sneer, "seems we've had royalty living in our midst for quite sometime."
"What are you talking about Miguel? What just happened?"
"We just found out King Van's Folken's little brother," Viole said. "That's why we couldn't kill him last night."
"I'm sure there's another reason too," Shesta said darkly. He glanced at Gatty, "How's Lord Dilandau?"
"Still sleeping."
"Folken shouldn't have given him anything that strong, especially if he was going have his damn brother on the loose."
"I'm sure he didn't think the king would get out," Gatty said looking on down the hallway towards the Strategos' room. "I bet he drugged him too. He should have given his brother whatever he gave Lord Dilandau."
"You don't think he drugged him on purpose, do you? You don't think the Strategos would want to leave Lord Dilandau exposed and defenseless like that?" Miguel still wanted to spill blood.
"No," both Gatty and Shesta shook their heads. "Folken would never do that. Like I said, he genuinely likes Lord Dilandau, he's not going to put him in danger on purpose. He told us to stay near him, meaning he knew Lord Dilandau would be in no condition to fight for himself... This...this was our fault. We left, and didn't think to have at least one of us stay behind. We were stupid, and careless, and we almost got our leader killed."
Miguel opened his mouth, then closed it. He had nothing to say to that. No one did. They all could scream until they turned blue about the Strategos having overdosed Dilandau and left him weak...but the fact stood that he'd told them of his plans, and had told them to stay near. They knew Dilandau was ill, and they knew he was vulnerable in his sleep. Even if the sleep hadn't been medicated, his reaction time to the boy king waking him up with his sword would have been slow enough to get him killed. Basically it all boiled down to...they never should have left him alone. It was their fault.
All their fault.
"Gods," Miguel groaned, putting a hand to his face to hide his shame.
"Yeah," Viole agreed.
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Folken had put Van back into another medicated sleep, and bound him to the bed this time, after freeing Ayah, that is. She'd given him the dirtiest of looks when he entered his bedroom gripping Van tightly with his metal hand by the shoulder. His jaw fell open a fraction as his mind filled him in on what had probably happened. His eyes flitted to the call button. Stupid him... he should have had Van put into a cell, it would have been much safer for everyone. It wasn't like he was getting through to him anyway. He made Van sit still while he'd untied Ayah, and told her to take the rest of the day off. She left without so much as a "thank you."
He tied Van tightly and carefully, stretching his limbs across the bed to make it hard for him, if he woke up, to untie himself. He would find metal restraints to use later. After he'd pulled the bonds tight, he injected Van, this time in the arm, with another sedative. His brother didn't so much as speak, look, or flinch at him during the entire process. It stung a bit, but Folken had to remember, his brother still believed he'd abandoned his mother and him. Folken wanted to talk about that, he wanted to talk about a lot of things, but he just didn't feel Van would listen right then. He'd used the drugs the first time to try to calm his nerves. The effects were not quite what he'd expected. Van woke earlier than he should have, much earlier, and he was not as perceptive as Folken would have liked. He didn't want to believe his brother had gone after Dilandau like that. The boy had been utterly defenseless, and Van had tried to use that to his advantage.
That couldn't be his Van. Balgus wouldn't teach him that.
The Dragonslayers were upset with him, as they had a right to be. He'd endangered their leader by having Van so close, and misjudging him so. After that
night, Folken would have him placed in a cell, at least until he could start talking some sense into him. He sat down at his desk, removing his heavy cloak, and
staring at the thin shape that represented his younger brother on his bed. This time he wasn't going to leave him unsupervised.
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"Well, well, well....I've found them!" Allen glanced over at the man looking through the periscope. "Floating Fortress spotted."
"Ok, heat the levistones, cut our levitation and charge the fortress!" he commanded. Finally some action, it had taken so long to find the fortress he was beginning to have doubts, and hear faint snickering in the back of his mind from Gaddes.
He felt the ship give a subtle shudder, "Levitation down to 20."
"Good, furl the sails!" The slight rush of before-the-battle-excitement was tickling him, and beefed up his voice when he gave orders. He swung his arms as if giving demonstration on what to do, "And dive!"
He felt his stomach plunge as the ship careened, then dove toward its acquired target. He was beyond ready for this encounter with Zaibach. They'd burned his castle, they'd killed and hurt his men, they'd taken Van... His fingers itched in anticipation and brushed against the hilt of his sheathed sword. He quickly gripped the steel bar in front of him to keep his balance as one of the wings rebounded against a free floating levistone. He held back a chuckle as Hitomi skirt blew up to her waist and she turned bright right and removed a hand form the pole she was clinging to pull down her garment and hold it.
Here we come, Zaibach. If he met Dilandau again, this time they would finish their fight.
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"We're under attack!" Folken blinked and looked down from his high podium above the soldiers tending to the navigation machinery. Under attack? By who, how had their location been compromised?
"They're right above us!"
"Sound the alarm," Folken instructed. He had to get back to Van. This attack was no doubt a rescue attempt. The boy had been sleeping peacefully when he'd left to attend to his duties in the main control room. The men there knew how to work the equipment but he always made sure to come in every few hours to make sure things were still running smoothly, and to fine tune the navigational instruments.
"Strategos where are you going?"
"Back to my rooms."
"Sir, you can't just roam about the ship during an attack. You'll have to stay here until the coast is clear."
"I'll probably be safer where I'm going than here, gentlemen. You can escort me if you like, but I will not remain." He didn't stop his leisurely trek to the double doors, and passed through them without even looking back to see two soldiers stumbling after him.
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"Anchor!" Allen cried as the ship skidded across the metal surface of the floating fortress, he'd seen an open entrance...a flight deck.
The Crusade jerked to a halt, "Levitation restored sir!"
"Cut the tether!" Allen said, trying to get his emotions under control. He couldn't let himself get too excited about this, or he'd make rash decisions that could get himself and others hurt or killed, "and then raise the propellers."
The ship began to slowly maneuver itself into the rectangular entrance of the deck, and Allen watched the positioning through the large windows, and called over his shoulder, "Aft mooring anchors, fire!"
The anchors caught the floor of the deck, and the ship was pulled until it casually bumped against the edges. Perfect. "Ok, lets board them!"
"Yessir!"
"Charge!"
His men might have been more excited about this, than he was. He hid a smirk, then he and his men flooded off the Crusade into the gloom of the dark fortress.
"Boarders!" In sync with a single heartbeat, Zaibach soldiers were rushing at them from various sides swords drawn.
"Here they come!" Allen gave his men the heads up, knowing they had seen the soldiers coming just as he had.
"Leave them to us sir! You go find Van!"
"Yeah!"
Allen grinned, "Alright." With that he took to a corridor not overrun with shrieking sword bearing troops. Now where would they keep the prisoners on a
ship like this?
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Van started awake at the loud crash and disruptive shaking. What was...? He gazed around. He was back in his brother's room again! He tried to recall what had happened earlier. He'd escaped, he took a stupid gamble, lost, and now he'd been recaptured. He tried to move, discovering the uncomfortable tightness cutting off the circulation in his wrists and ankles were bonds. So Folken didn't trust him anymore? He was crushed.
Not really.
But now how was he going to get out? And what the hell was going on out there? What was that noise and the quaking? He struggled against the restraints, and grunted in pain. Damn.
He lie back again, helpless. He wondered if Folken's maid would be coming back by anytime soon...
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He giggled as the tiny lamb licked his face. He stroked her soft fur, and returned the kiss on her wet nose. He sat outside his new Master's house in the grass taking his break. His little muscles were sore and aching from the day's excursions, and it felt good to sit. The sun was warm on his body, at the top of his head, he would probably be pink by the time he was allowed back inside. He lie down smiling as the lamb laid its head on his chest.
The air was sweet with the fragrance of wild flowers, and the gentle breeze and the presence of the warm body on his chest was lulling him to sleep. He'd been up before the sun, and would undoubtably be going to bed only a few hours before he was to wake up. It seemed his Master could never run out of chores for him to do, or new exercises to test his endurance. He had plenty of new bruises and welts to show for his efforts.
"What are you doing?" His eyes flew opened, and he leapt into a standing position.
"I was... I was resting, I'm sorry! I thought I could, since you didn't require anything of me."
"Lazy bastard child, get up...and what..is that?" Master Marion was rather portly, but very strong and fit for a man of his physique. Dilandau frowned, the lamb had been startled when he'd jumped up so suddenly, but it was now back at his side licking his curled knuckles. He pet her head absently, and then tried to push her away, "It's a lamb, sir."
"I can see that, you idiot. Were you playing with it? Is it keeping you company?"
"No...it just came while I was lying down." Master Marion was a strange man when it came to attachments. Dilandau had heard he'd lost his wife and children in an epidemic.
"What have I told you about becoming attached to silly things such as pets or people?"
"Not to," he hung his head, his silvery gray bangs brushing his chin. "But I swear I wasn't! It just came." He pushed at the stubborn lamb again, who was now rubbing its head on his leg. Go away, go away, or he'll beat me for sure!
Master Marion smiled crookedly, an ugly expression on his doughy face. "Alright, Dilandau, I believe you."
Dilandau almost wept with relief. He let out a cautious breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Master Marion turned and went back inside the house, "Go wash up for dinner."
Dinner? He was getting dinner? His magenta eyes lit up with delight. He was lucky if he ate twice a day, to eat dinner would be a treat! He trotted to the small water trough behind the house the little lamb following him closely. "You have to go away, Master Marion doesn't like you."
The lamb blinked at him dumbly and rubbed against his leg again. He knelt before the trough and dipped his hands in the water kept keep in the shade of the house. He washed his face, and carefully dried himself on his white cotton shirt. He snickered as the lamb dipped his own face in the water and began to drink. "Master Marion definitely wouldn't like that."
The lamb looked at him, then licked his face. "You're not going to go away and leave me are you?"
The lamb stared.
"Ok, well then I should name you. How about Dove? I know you're not, but you're pretty like one." He patted his new pet's head. "I have to go inside now, and you'll have to go back to where you came from."
He moved toward the backdoor and Dove followed.
"No, go! I'll play with you tomorrow."
He opened the backdoor and went inside, sighing as the lamb still stood dumbly on the doorstep. He would have to go back out later and see if he could lure it away from the cottage.
Dinner was watery soup and hard bread that he ate with vigor. He was always so hungry in the evenings, and it was so rare to get nourishment he didn't want to miss a crumb of it. His Master glared at him as he ate, "You'll sweep the floors after this boy, and get to bed."
"Yes sir."
Dilandau crawled onto the small cot set aside for him feeling light, and...happy. That was the only way he could describe the emotion coursing through him...happy. He'd never experienced it before, but for once he wasn't sad, or scared, or hungry. His body pains were easily overlooked, and sleep came upon him quickly.
He woke in the morning, feeling rested and wonderful. He blinked at the sunlight greeting him, he'd never awoken to sunlight before. Master had let him sleep in, why? He swung his legs over the side of his cot and got up, stretching. He would wash and begin his morning chores without being asked. Master was in an unusually good mood, and he didn't wish to spoil it by having the Master think he was lazy.
He cleaned quickly but thoroughly, having not seen his Master he was anxious to get outside to his pet. He was bounding for the door, when Master Marion appeared through it, the man was smiling. "Dilandau, so you've decided to wake up."
"Yes, Master. I'm sorry for sleeping so long. I have done all of my morning chores, and I..."
"You would like to go outside?"
"Yes sir."
"Go on boy, I'll call you when I want you to come in."
"Th...thank you Master." Dilandau couldn't help but smile. He ventured outside into the sunshine. "Dove!" he called looking for his lamb. "Dove!" It really was a silly name to give to a lamb. He'd have to think of something more practical, and he'd have to build her a shelter. He would start on one today. "Dove!" He went as far as the pond before he came back near to the house, maybe he was still on the back step waiting...but surely Master Marion would have...NO!
He broke into a run.
On the Master Marion's chopping block... no.... His little legs slowed, and he fell to his knobby knees as he stared at the head of his lamb, looked into the dark unseeing eyes. The grass, his hands, and knees were stained with the blood. Master Marion came out then, that ugly smile on his face again. "Dilandau, I see you chose not to take advantage of your free time. Clean the carcass, and bring it to the smoke house. This will be our dinner tonight."
Dilandau obeyed with tears pooled in his eyes. He stood shakily and lifted the body of his lamb, his Dove. He wouldn't eat dinner, no matter how hungry he got... He wouldn't eat his lamb...he would never eat anything that once lived, breathed, and had feelings again.
*It's going to be alright, Dilandau.*
It won't be. She's dead.
*You'll have other friends, maybe ones that can talk to you.*
No. I wasn't meant to have friends, I wasn't meant to have anybody. I can't become attached.
*Don't listen to him.*
He killed her.
*So you kill him.*
He didn't falter in his walk to the slaughter hut, but he agreed. That night while his Master slept, he'd slit his throat.
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Dilandau hit the floor with a muffled thud. Something living was beneath him, and had cushioned his fall. "Lord Dilandau?" Refina's voice called to him, over the sound of loud sirens. Sirens? He sat up, fighting off the thick folds of a blanket. It was too hot for blankets...and what the hell was he sitting on? "Hold still sir," Refina again. He fought to get his head free, he needed to see his surroundings. Something grabbed him around the shoulders and pulled him until he tumbled forward onto a bed. He rolled out of the blanket and looked around, from the looks of things he was in Miguel and Viole's room with Refina. There was a grunt from the other side of the bed, and Dallet sat up rubbing his head, his hair hopelessly mused.
"Nice catch, Dallet," Refina chuckled.
Dilandau sat up, gods he felt sluggish. "Sirens? What's going on? How did I get in here?" He lowered his head in his hands trying to organize his jumbled thoughts. His head was pounding, he could feel the throbbing beneath his fingers in his temples.
"The Vione's been boarded, sir."
"Why am I in here?"
"Uh..."
"Somebody better start talking right now!"
"Lord Dilandau you fell asleep during study hours, and after they were over we took a snack break. The king is staying in Lord Folken's quarters, and he got out."
"Why would Folken keep Van in his room?" Dallet's voice was starting to echo, and the light was hurting his eyes. He decided to keep them closed for the rest of the story.
"Um...Van's his...his younger brother, sir."
Brother? Well, no wonder he was so adamant about Dilandau not killing the dragon. "And?"
"He came into Shesta and Gatty's room while we were gone, and you were sleeping. He had his sword over your neck, and we think he was going to use you as a hostage, and then either capture or kill you."
"WHAT?"
"Shesta came back, and he got him off you, and he and Miguel fought him and recaptured him. Then Lord Folken came and took the King away again."
"He did what? He..." Dilandau removed his hands from his face and moved one to his throat. Someone had dared touch him while he was unconscious....
He shuddered, suddenly cold. "Lord Dilandau, it's ok. He's gone now. Why don't you lie back down, Gatty has already sent out the other Slayers. Dallet, go get some more cold water, he's so hot."
Someone was touching him again, he caught Refina's wrist as her hand rested on his cheek, "L..Lord Dilandau, please. You have to lie down."
Van had touched him while he was sleeping, Van was going to use him.
It was getting so hot. He pushed Refina away as she tried to wipe the sweat building on his brow away with a dry towel. Van had touched him...Van was going to use him. He pushed himself up off the bed, staggering a bit, and catching hold of Refina as she rose too. "Lord Dilandau..."
"Get out there Slayer, there are boarders! What are you doing hiding in here?"
"L..."
"Get out of here, Refina!" Refina looked torn, she stared at Dilandau fearful and concerned. Should she obey her Lord like she was supposed to, or call Dallet back and together they could force him back onto the bed. He didn't look strong enough to take them both on.
Dilandau growled, "You have 3 seconds..."
Refina swallowed what she felt was right, and let her sense of duty override maternal instincts. "Y..yes, Lord Dilandau." She left the room swiftly, taking Dallet's arm as she met him in the hallway, "Lord Dilandau wants us to join the fight."
"But he'll be left alone," Dallet protested fighting her hand and turning to go back.
"Dallet he gave me an order. I've never seen him like that. I don't know what he's going to do, but I think it best we stay out of his way."
Dallet glared at her, "Refina..."
"He's our commanding officer Dallet, and we have to do what he says. He could have us dismissed."
Dallet sighed, what she said was true, and he couldn't let himself be dismissed. If he was sent home there would be one less qualified soldier to look after Lord
Dilandau.
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Allen stopped to catch his breath after cutting down the last two men of the pack of Zaibach soldiers he'd run into. He heard more footsteps and chose another place to be, fast. He paced himself down another hallway, and skid to a halt. He was approaching a docking bay, and at the mouth of the tunnel was... "Escaflowne." He took a few steps toward it, when he heard running footsteps behind him.
"Hey you, draw!" a young voice shouted. Allen whirled to be involved in combat with a young blond haired boy. One of Dilandau's men... what did they call themselves? Dragonslayers. This was one of the ones that stood closest to him. He might know where to find Van, so Allen needed him conscious.
The boy was highly skilled he could tell after blocking a few blows, but he was no wear near Allen's level of experience and expertise. He disarmed the lad easily knocking the sword from his grasp, sending the blade high into the air. Then he knocked the wind out of the boy with his elbow, catching him before he could crumble to his knees.
"Now you're going to take me to the prisoner you captured last night, or I'll kill you," Allen told the boy, bringing him against his chest, holding his sword to his throat. The boy didn't whimper or make a sound, his face was serene, though Allen could see the sweat forming on his upper lip and at his temples, and could smell his fear. "You don't want to die, do you?"
The boy swallowed, but did not answer. He pressed the blade against his throat, a thin trickle of blood kissed the blade and caressed its shiny facets. "You're not betraying anyone by leading me to the prisoner." He didn't want to kill one so young. The boy was a good soldier, and that saddened him. Children shouldn't have to fight. "Now will you take me to the prisoner?"
"Y...yes..."
Allen sighed, no young blood on his hands today. He released his tight hold on the boy's throat, and held him with his arms bound tight behind his back. "Which way."
"Keep straight, we take the next hallway."
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Van wanted to sit up as the door opened, "Is that you Folken?"
"No, but if you'd rather it was him, I'll go home and you can wait until he shows up," a very familiar voice said.
"Allen!" Van tried to sit up to greet the tall blond man. He never thought he'd be so happy to hear a voice. He heard the soft "umph" of someone being hit, and a muffled thud of a body hitting the floor. Soon Allen was towering over him, "Hold still.." He used his slightly soiled sword to cut the restraints.
"We have to get out of this hallway! Dilandau and all of his little followers live here, and they are pissed at me..." Van stared at the soldier on the floor. It was the blond who'd outwitted him, "You got him down?"
"It wasn't hard. You had problems with him, Van?" Allen looked at the slight bruising on Van's face.
"Oh yeah," Van glared down at the boy, wanting to give him a good kick.
"Van, he's out. Leave him be. Didn't Balgus teach you never to go after someone after they've fallen. He is not an immediate danger."
"Like he and friends aren't going to come after us."
"Van, he can't be much older than you are."
"So? That doesn't mean he wouldn't kill me if he was told he could," Van sneered. But then, this had been the one to stop the other Dragonslayers from ripping him to shreds.
"Come on Van, lets get out of here." Allen pulled his arms and together they fled. Van was unarmed and Allen had to do the fighting, the soldiers had significantly thinned. He didn't even have to stop his run at times, slashing at angles taking down two men at a time. They came to the first hallway the blond boy had brought him down, another small band of soldiers was coming at them, "Van, Escaflowne is down that way. You go on to the hangar, and I'll take care of business here."
"Ok," Van nodded, he ran off, and Allen stood ready to fight.
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The armor was uncomfortable, heavy and lose in the wrong places, but the sword felt so right in his hands. No one touched him without his permission, no one used him. He walked passed his full length mirror, pausing to look at himself. Skin paler than a ghost's, dipped in midnight black and spattered with blood; he looked Death.
Van's Death.
He shakily made his way from his room, amiss the loud sirens, feeling his steps become bolder as his heart thudded the techno beat to his mantra kill Van...kill
Van...kill Van!
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Van skidded into the hangar, he could see the Escaflowne near the back. He took a few steps towards it, when he heard heavy footfalls from above, "Van!" He looked up to see the dark shadow of his brother at the railing of the walkway over his head looking down at him.
"Brother!" Van shouted up at him. "What the hell do you want?" Folken stared, saying nothing, and Van shuddered with rage. Before he could holler anything else Folken extended an arm over the railing in his hand he held Van's sword. Van watched soundlessly as his brother let go, and the sword fell down towards him. He caught it, and stared back at his brother questioningly. He didn't know what the hell Zaibach had done to Folken...but they would pay. The shadow of his brother was gone before he could call for him to come back, and he was left alone. Escaflowne... he started to go to it again.
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The edges of his field of vision were painted red, he had to force himself not to use his peripheral vision, it made him dizzy. The Vione was a large ship, he hadn't really thought about it until then. The hallways seemed longer and more narrow as his lungs labored and his temperature rose. He felt so heavy....but the drums....
Kill Van...Kill Van....Kill Van....
He covered his ears as if the sound was coming from external source. Where were his Slayers....why had he sent them away?
KILL VAN...
The drums were louder still, and he'd reached the end of the hallway.
KILL VAN!!
He looked forward and there bathed in the red haze that was his sight...was Van Fanel, looking up as if questioning the gods.
Well it was time for him to get his answers from them if that's what he was seeking, and Dilandau would help him.
KILL!!
He charged forward bringing his sword high over his head, the idiot wouldn't sense him until it was too late and his head rolled on the steel floor. He fought the urge to giggle as his heart leapt into his throat dancing wildly at the pure rush of energy flooding through his veins.
"VAN BEHIND YOU!" His tunnel vision wouldn't allow him to be distracted by the frenzied voice of a girl, but his previously ignorant prey had turned into his advance and used his sheathed sword to block his killing strike.
"I should have killed you when I had the chance!" Dilandau raged. Kill Van...Kill Van...Kill Van!
"You're gonna die!" He touched me...he tried to use me....
He attacked mercilessly not letting the young King get the upper hand, he swung and slashed. He knew he was putting too much power into his movements, it made his attacks easier to predict and counter. If he could only move faster, and get through Van's defenses one thrust was all it would take. "I HATE YOU!" A burst of adrenaline quickened his feet, allowing him more cat-like grace to dance around Van as their blades played a deadly game.
Kill Van...Kill Van...
His feet moved to the beat, sweat stung his eyes, his breathing and heart beat escalated dangerously. Kill Van.... the mantra, the drums, his own breath. He was going combust, and he would take Van with him. The whole world was turning red, Van's features were beginning to merge....
Kill Van!
Yes... then can I sleep?
There was no voice to answer him, only the sound of his gasps, and those damn drums. Van was playing those drums, it was Van's fault his head hurt, and it was hard to breathe...it was his fault everything was getting so blurry.
Kill Van...
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Van turned at Hitomi's shout of warning, when had she gotten there? He didn't have time to draw his sword, Dilandau was coming at him too fast, his sword swinging down upon him viciously. He brought his sword still encased up in a two handed block. The pale captain retraced his blade, giving Van enough time to draw, and start defending himself. Dilandau fought furiously his eyes frosted and glistening with fever. Van truly didn't have the heart to fight him. He remembered what Allen had said....about how Balgus would never teach him to still pursue an enemy after he was defeated. He stared at the delirious creature after his blood, and remembered the sleeping god he'd tainted with his blade. Through more perceptive eyes he could see the unusual amount of sweat giving an unearthly sheen to the boy's ashen skin, the slight tremor of the sword as his hands shook, and he could hear the loudness of his breathing. The fight wouldn't last much longer, the boy would collapse...but Van had to make sure he didn't get killed before that happened. Fury could make a person ten times stronger than they actually were. He needed to disarm the boy, cut his arm, his shoulder, that would stop the fight....unless he was ambidextrous. Then Van would have a problem.
He parried and whirled about bringing his sword up in a desperate move to stop Dilandau's sword from entering his chest cavity. He stepped back as he heard the faint tear of skin, and silvery hair floated down to kiss his feet following droplets of blood. He could hear the chocking gasps of the white soldier, and he looked up to see the damage he'd done.
His face, his sword had met with the side of the perfect living statue's face. A fine line was torn from the beginning of his cheekbone to the curve of his lower lip, and blood wept from the wound. Van jumped at the sound of metal clattering to the floor...Dilandau had dropped his sword, both hands going to the wound, pressing at the torn skin...his eyes were wide and vacant as he continued to pant. Van backed away as he sank to his knees, "Van..." Hitomi was calling to him.
"I'm sorry," Van whispered to the boy, he didn't know if he had heard him or not, but he was, "Sorry..." He turned to Hitomi. "Escaflowne's back here, come on!"
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The dragon had escaped kept skipping around his mind like children playing in a schoolyard. After all that hard work, one ship with maybe 7 or 8 men on it were able to board the Vione and snatch back their trophy. Gatty was in low spirits, "Where is Shesta?" he asked Miguel who shrugged.
"Haven't seen him since we parted ways during the fight."
There was a sharp pang in his stomach, "Is anyone looking for him?"
"Yeah, Guimel and Dallet are..."
"Dallet? I thought he was guarding Lord Dilandau?"
"Uh..."
"What?" Gatty pulled a hand from his face. He didn't think he liked being in charge. Lord Dilandau could keep his job, and he deserved a raise.
"Lord Dilandau ordered Dallet and Refina into the fight. Tristan checked his room and his armor and sword are gone."
"Shit!" Gatty stopped his steps toward the Dragonslayer corridor. "Where is he?"
"Dallet and Guimel are looking for Shesta, Viole is with the Strategos, and everyone else is looking for him."
"Why wasn't I informed?"
"With all do respect Gatty, you look stressed. No one wanted to bother you," Miguel patted his shoulder. "You did a really great job out there, getting everyone together."
"Thanks, Miguel," Gatty sighed, and gave a small smile to the brunette. It was rare to win a compliment from Miguel Lavalier, so one usually took them to heart.
"Well?"
Gatty raised a brow, "Have all the hangars been covered? The king would have gone toward his guymelef, and Lord Dilandau would have wanted to head him off."
"I don't know, we can go see for ourselves."
The hangars were all pretty void of human occupancy, and Miguel was ready to turn back, "It looks like they've already been combed out Gatty. Maybe he's showed up by now, probably with Folken."
"No," Gatty said carefully, his eyes narrowing. "We haven't even looked around."
"Gatty. There's no one here. We would have heard something by now..."
"Shhh....be quiet for a moment, and you might."
The cold wind howled and whistled through damaged parts of the hangar door, and buried within that cacophony was the soft sound of human whispering. "You see.... who's there?" Gatty called.
Miguel walked in front, keen eyes scanning the room. It was so dim, he had to squint to make out figures. He halted suddenly, and Gatty slammed into him. Instead of cursing Gatty, as the blond was steeling himself for, he went down on his knees. Gatty blinked at his actions, then looked to what Miguel was concentrating on, "My gods..." He crept forward fully erect, while Miguel crawled to the form of their leader on his knees with his head bowed. Congealing blood dotted the floor along with small tufts of platinum hair.
"Lord Dilandau?" Miguel touched his back, and the whispering stopped.
Gatty stopped on the other side of him, and knelt down too, "Are you ok?"
Slowly the silvery head rose, dull red eyes greeted them, and they both gasped at the blood smeared across the length of the left side of his face, the blood on his lips, on the end of his nose, on his hands, in his hair.... "Look, look what he did to me."
"Gods..." Gatty reached forward to touch where the blood seemed to have come from, and Dilandau jerked away left hand cradling his left cheek. "We've got to get you to the infirmary. You might need stitches."
"Stitches leave scars."
"Not all the time," Miguel said softly.
"It will leave a scar because the wound was made by his poison blade."
Gatty and Miguel gazed at each other over Dilandau's head. "Lord Dilandau, you're feverish. Lets us help you up."
"I've been cursed by Van Fanel, and the only way to break it, is for me to kill him."
"Get his other arm Miguel, I'll get this one," Gatty instructed, heart in his throat at Dilandau's wispy voice laced with insanity and delirium. Together they hefted Dilandau to his feet, and supported him between them when his knees went weak. "We should take him to bed, then call for a medic to come to him personally. No one else should see him like this."
"I agree," Miguel nodded. They struggled with Dilandau's boneless form, pretending to be doting on his every word as he whispered his delusional plots to kill King Van Fanel.
"You'll help me, won't you? You all will help me?"
"Anything you want us to do, Lord Dilandau, even if it means certain death, " Gatty assured him
"Lets just hope it won't come to that," Miguel snorted, blowing an unruly lock of hair from his eyes.
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**Author's Note: All done...well what did you think? Too long? Not enough? I love to hear from you :) Take care, and please review!**