CHAPTER FOUR: Mid-Air
"Where are you two off to now?"
It was a question that was often poked at Auguste and me from Amelie's curled lips as we would hastily clamper down the stairs and out the seamstress's door. We both knew she was well aware of the theft we conducted, yet Amelie didn't seem to mind our free-spirits. Perhaps that's what I liked about her so much.
When Auguste and I weren't silently pillaging through shops and stalls, I assisted Amelie with her needlework. I became very skilled at it, though the first few weeks I had pricked my fingers with the needle so many times that they bled. I would go red in the face, embarrassed that Amelie might bark at me for spilling crimson on her embroidery, but she only laughed and said I would soon get better at it. Sure enough, I did.
If not stealing or sewing, I practiced my combat with my scythe. I hadn't let the tool lie dormant for a mere minute, for I had to master specific skills for the battlefield. I wasn't going to get my father back from the cavalry by threatening the generals with yarn and the fingers of a pickpocket.
I realized that Auguste too had a weapon to defend himself with. When one afternoon in his underground room by the tavern, he showed it to me. I had never noticed the cloth covered object in the back of his room before.
It was a magnificent work of art; the blade thick and the hilt delicately decorated. It was hardly the size of a zweihander, for it was a more reasonable size; and nothing compared to the height of my scythe. The more I mused at his sword, the more it looked to be rather oriental looking.
"This was my father's," he explained, stroking the blade. "He asked to be buried with it, but the marshals took no authority to his words, curse them." I noticed his fist tightening in anger, so I smiled and squeezed his wrist gently to calm him down.
"The scythe is my father's too, yet he only used it for harvesting." I snorted as my words sounded silly.
Auguste glanced at me. "Say…when were you going to leave Rouen to find your father, again?"
I hesitated – I had completely forgotten!
"I… didn't. Yet, I suppose…perhaps…sometime this week?" I saw him nod slowly.
"I see. Marienbard, if you wouldn't mind I think I might like to come with you." His proclamation took me by surprise. Why would he want to leave the excitement of Rouen just to help me with my personal goals?
"R-really? A-ah, I mean, with all due respect…may I ask why, exactly?"
Auguste took a deep breath before speaking.
"Marienbard, before I met you my life was a fragment away from crumbling into ruins. With my family all deceased, I had nothing to look forward to. Just lingering helplessly in the alleys was a part of my everyday routine, and some days I had not the energy or contempt to feed myself. But then, as I thought there was truly nothing left in the world for me, Fate grabbed you with its hand and settled you down right before my eyes. Since then, I've redeemed myself and have found meaning in the world. Would you happen to know what that meaning is?"
My throat had gone dry, so I shook my head.
"It was to stay with you; to stand by your side forever. It feels as though when you aren't around, that the world is just a blank slate, and I have nothing to write – yet when I am with you, you fill me with inspiration. Do you…understand what I'm telling you…?"
My hands were trembling, and surely my cheeks had gone three shades of pink. I blinked and nodded my head, a shaky smile beginning to curl my lips. I nodded until I went dizzy and tears formed in my eyes.
"Yes, Auguste. Yes, yes, yes, yes. I completely understand, and I want to be with you too. Nothing makes me feel as lively as you do. My words are briefer than yours, but I hope you take the full meaning of them."
Not wanting to get too caught up in the emotions, Auguste gave me a small hug in acknowledgement and understanding. "Good. I'm grateful that you'll include me, now let's get going to Amelie's – it will soon set and dark will fall."
As we were heading to the seamstress' shop, a commotion seemed to echo through the alleyways. I peered around, trying to figure out where exactly the noise was erupting, but the labyrinth-esque ways of the alley let every sound snake in through different columns.
"Do you have a notion where–" before I could finish my question, Auguste abruptly pushed me against the wall, a hand over my mouth, and stood absolutely still. My heart thumped inside of my head, not understanding what in the dickens was going on, until I saw a blonde gentleman with a thin sword in his left hand dash by. Soon after, a fleet of soldiers passed, hot on his trail; only when they turned a corner did Auguste release his tense stance.
"That must have been the Sorel man," he spoke suddenly, his gaze locked in the direction the soldiers had ran.
"Pardon?" I had not the foggiest idea of what he meant.
He shook his head and snorted. "Nothing. Just current events – some noble issue."
I nodded. "Ah."
When we entered Amelie's shop, she leapt at our arrival and let out a gasp of relief. She hugged us both tightly, as if we had both just come back from a decade's war.
"Oh thank goodness you two are alright," she said breathlessly.
"Uh… what is troubling you so?" came Auguste's awkward tone.
Amelie immediately took her grip away from us, though not offended by Auguste's words, and placed her hands on her hips, a disappointed look crawling on her face.
"Oh – it's those soldiers! Chasing the Sorel down like maniacs…for all the citizens' care we just need him out of the country. Everything else the soldiers want to do is paranoia! It's insane…" she grumbled the rest of her rant and stepped back over to her spinning wheel.
"Well, he made a critical mistake on his part, Amelie…" the way he spoke made it seem as though he wasn't sure if the words had come out right.
She merely sighed and shook her head. "No matter. It's not my deal and if it was, I am only a maiden and anything I'd say would make no difference," Amelie glanced up at us. "Just be careful until they have the Sorel man. The soldiers ought to be in every nook in this town, so keep in mind that there might be eyes watching you, though you can't see them."
Her cryptic statement sent chills up my arms, yet I nodded. "Yes, Amelie."
Auguste and I headed upstairs, deciding not to cause mischief in Rouen after what she had said. We discovered an old dusty chest in the corner of the second floor that was full of books on mythology, history, and philosophy. Not hesitating for a moment, we seized them.
I had engrossed myself in the knowledge of Aristotle, and when I peered over the edge of my book saw Auguste entranced in a novel about Roman warfare. I suppose I had been gazing at him too long, for he snorted and said, "Aristotle bores you, non?"
I snapped back to reality. "Hm? Oh – no, I was just…erm, dazed off is all." I feigned an overwhelmed look. "The mind of Aristotle is fascinating! So much knowledge; I am unsure if my head is capable of holding it or not."
He snorted, and was about to say something when we heard a bunch of men come through Amelie's workshop door. I started up to see who had arrived, but Auguste caught me by my arm and pulled me back, pressing a finger up to his mask at the spot where his lips ought to be. I took in a very silent breath and we listened intently, hidden away from whoever had entered.
"Good sirs, may I help you?" Though their entrance had been made brusque, Amelie still spoke with her cordial voice.
"We are in no need of your worthless cotton," one of the men spat, and I looked over to Auguste with a confused expression on my face.
Soldiers? I mouthed. He nodded and pointed, so we could get our attention back.
"Enlighten me," came Amelie's voice, smooth as butter.
"We've been informed that you are, in consideration, housing the wanted Raphael Sorel; son of his nobility Lord Sorel."
Amelie said nothing for a moment. "…I must ask why this has come to your…'consideration', sirs."
"Independent studies have spotted a young man with a sword fleeing into this location every night. Is it not true that the son of Lord Sorel wields an English rapier?"
"…No, sir. But I must say that your conviction is wrong; the young master of the Sorel family resides not here." The longer Amelie spoke, the more it sounded like she was on the verge of tears. "So please, take my words for it and leave my workshop be."
The soldier scoffed. "Words of a maiden are meaningless."
I heard a metallic click, and my heart was instantly in my throat. Even I could hear the quickening of Amelie's desperate breath, as well as Auguste's and mine.
"…s-sir, please–"
A gunshot reverberated through the building, and a thump on the wood floors echoed.
I forgot to breathe; forgot to think, forgot all sense of things. The sound of the soldiers suddenly scrambling around shouting orders like "get the seamstress out of the road" and "check the upstairs, if he's not up there then burn this building down" meant nothing to me. I still wasn't intact when Auguste pulled my trembling arm and lifted me to my numb feet, whispering "Marienbard, we must leave now – through the window!"
I only snapped back when Auguste handed me my scythe, and I had no choice but to obey. Instead of lifting the window open, Auguste held me tight and ran against it – glass shattering everywhere like a shower of crystal – figuring himself so his back hit the ground first. I let out a muffled scream as we were falling; feeling like a bird the first time its mother pushes it out of the nest – I had not feathers nor the instinct or skill to fly, so instead we landed on the ground with a horrible thud!
Even not taking the full pain of it, the air was knocked out of my chest, and I rolled out of Auguste's arms on the impact. He didn't seem able to breathe, and surely he had broken something, but still got up with an agonizing grunt and ran with me. I marveled at his courage from that point on.
"The tavern!" he ordered through gritted teeth. In seconds, though it seemed like an eternity, the soldiers had discovered us by the shattering of glass and inevitably began their pursuit. I had no idea how I was able to run, for my legs felt as though they had been lopped off, but with Auguste here I had to keep going; for my father; for Amelie – for myself. This was the point of no return, as I had now decided that I was not going to back down on my word. Auguste had truly inspired me on that.
The two of us stumbled many times, and our stamina was slipping away like the wind, and I knew not how much longer I was going to last. Miraculously, when we turned a corner I saw the barrels which hid our hideout. Not even bothering to push them aside, Auguste gave the crate a mighty slash of his sword and they crashed open; ale and wine spurting everywhere. Ignoring it, he pushed the door open with shaky hands and we dove into the room, hearing the voices of the soldiers grow louder. They still seemed to be a ways away, but I knew if any second was wasted they would be that much closer to us. Time was desperate.
As soon as Auguste shut the door, I began to yell at him aimlessly for some reason. "Here? Of all places here? They'll find us right as they turn the corner, Auguste! You wretched, foul, loathsome creature! You're just going to get us killed! Imbecile!" I felt tears roll silently down my cheeks – perhaps I was realizing the monster that I was turning into; yelling at my best friend, only passing on the torment that Catriona once caused upon me. Guilt swept over me like a strong breeze. "Auguste…I–"
I hadn't noticed what he was doing until I saw him move all of his books that once sat in a pile against his wall to reveal a narrow crevasse leading in what seemed to be a tunnel. He turned to me, seemingly not affected by my harsh words and motioned forward. "Come, we don't have much time left."
I obeyed, and crawled into the tunnel. I made my way back, and soon Auguste had begun to follow, my reassurance now boosted that he wouldn't abandon me. After a few good minutes of moving aimlessly in the narrow tunnel, we finally stopped to gather ourselves. The two of us waited ever so silently, listening to the soldiers overhead very faintly barking orders at each other then skittering away to a new place to snoop. I let out the breath that I didn't realize I was holding, and glanced at Auguste – he was holding his shoulder and breathing unsteadily. Tears immediately stung my eyes.
"Au-Auguste… I am so sorry… for everything. I-I've been such a burden to you lately, and I've been acting so cursedly immature." My words barely became audible, but I tried to swallow my sobs. "Forgive me for yelling at you back there, I was just afraid a-and I just don't know what to do, I've n-never been in a situation li–"
He caught me by complete surprise when I saw him put a hand to his mask – for a second I thought he would reveal his face to me, yet he only lifted it to where his mouth was visible – and the next moment his lips were on mine; his breath, his scent, his touch – I could grasp it all in that moment, yet I was too in shock. My hand that was holding my scythe tightened until my knuckles were white, and pleasing goose bumps erupted everywhere possible on my body. My breath slowed, and he pulled away before I could just keel over from the enjoyment.
"Please, don't apologize." When he spoke, his mask fell back down on its own. "You've never been a burden, and don't think you ever will be." He swiped his knuckle gently across my cheek where a tear had fallen. I nodded.
"B-but…your shoulder…" My voice was only a whisper.
"I'll be fine. It's you that matters," He put a hand on my back and was instantly by my side. "Now come on; it's not safe in Rouen anymore. We need to leave – far away from here – and then rest. We'll search for your father the next day."
We began making our way down the tunnel.
"Saint-Etienne?" I suggested for our destination, sounding reasonable, yet he shook his head.
"Farther. We need to get out of the country – like Amelie said."
Amelie… Her name was like the own gunshot that struck her down in my chest. I reluctantly swallowed down my sorrow, saying that I needed to leave Rouen behind. It was all past me now.
"How far back do these tunnels go?" I said, wanting to change the subject.
"Just up to the outskirts of Rouen," he explained. "It'll be a few minutes."
I let out a large breath when we crawled out of the confined space, ending up in a small hole that was next to the gates of Rouen. It had taken us a long time to work our way through, and I was of course glad to be out. I pried Auguste out of the small breach, and luckily no one saw our suspicious behavior.
"We've no time to waste," I said, taking on Auguste's words. With a loyal nod, we dashed away from the city, and reached far into the country fields – I felt my process growing and my goal becoming closer.
Father, we are close… I thought, picturing Feidhelm O'Flaherty's smiling face.