CHAPTER NINE
Damaged Goods
EXORCISM….The term is derived from Itarian words meaning "to bind with a promise", and refers to any and all methods used to deal with suspected cases of demonic possession. (See GOD; INFINITY; DEMONS.) Though exorcisms of a sort date back to the dawn of humanity, the term is currently reserved for the rituals performed by trained priests of the Church of the Infinity….
Much lurid fiction and rumour has built up around the field of exorcisms, and many contemporary psychologists believe that the procedure is unscientific and exploitative. They view demonic possession as a sign of mental or nervous disease, particularly paranoia (q.v.) This view has prevailed in Galvenia, but exorcisms are still taken very seriously in Itaria, with Pontiff Pious XXII writing the Pontifical Letter "On True and False Exorcisms" in C.Y. 339 specifically to address the twin issues of skepticism and charlatanry….
- ENCYCLOPEDIA GALVENICA, 24th Edition, C.Y. 347
The old man stroked his beard, studied Lavie's journal carefully, then sat down at his desk.
"David," he said, with an indulgent look on his face, "things like this are the reason you still live in that small house of yours, while I have a bungalow in Jadeed in addition to this little place." He laughed. "Do you realize that, sold to the right man, this could earn millions of dollars? We're talking about one of the biggest unsolved problems in contemporary history – and one that at least three nations would pay good cash to solve."
"Call me naïve, Qasim, but I want answers – not money, and so does my niece. She was left this book by her grandmother, and we're in the middle of two wars. I'm not going to go and bargain with any government. By the way, how is your son?"
"Hamid?" Qasim grinned broadly. "He is back in Jadeed, running our garment factory. He took a trip to Galvenia about a year ago. Miss Regale, would you mind a little lecture?"
"Uh, no," Lavie replied. There was something compelling about the tiny old man in front of them, and somehow, she felt that he could help her.
"Let us begin at the very beginning, Miss. The Order of the Journeymen was founded about four hundred years ago in the Zion Empire, after the end of the Zion-Varald War. Without boring you with detail, the Zion were in a religious ferment at the time, and their mage battalions – who had failed to win the war for them – were a convenient scapegoat. Emperor Linois disbanded them, and most of them lost their protection at Court. Some, the 'hedge wizards', turned to a life of petty crime, or worked for carnivals. Others became wands-for-hire, bounty hunters with magical gifts. It took Nealus Hessen – a deacon of the Church in Zion – to convince Linois' son Friederich that the mages were a force for good. He permitted Nealus to form a guild, which he called the Journeymen. Among the foremost Journeymen were Kaleb, who saved a town from a mysterious plague; Samath, who betrayed him out of greed for demonic powers; and Horamin, a mystic who wanted to drive the Order away from its Church roots."
"I've heard of them," Lavie said, wondering where this was leading.
"After Kaleb's death, the Order was split by internal politics about who would succeed Horamin. Finally, the mantle passed to Kaleb's grandson, Jasen, who led the Order quite successfully, and he established a dynasty – ever leader of the Order from then on was his descendant. Things went well until the Commonwealth began poking its nose in things. They wanted the Order to answer to them, and Lucian – the current Schenk…"
"Schenk?" Lavie said, wondering if Qasim had sneezed.
"That was Kaleb's surname – no wonder he preferred to go by Kaleb, poor soul," the old man went on. "Anyway, Lucian, who was quite a headstrong young man, wanted nothing of it. He moved most of the Order to my country, the Fulton Republic, because it had the least Commonwealth presence and the least centralized government."
"Unfortunately for him," David continued, "he couldn't keep out of trouble. He fell in love with the daughter of a chieftain of Indernes, and began to enter the murky world of tribal politics. Soon, he helped his father-in-law establish a virtual fortress over here, and had his men block all the roads to the rest of the country. Well, though we're as federal as federal can be, no Premier was going to stand for secession – and besides, he was hurting trade. Trade is our local god, Lavie." He chuckled.
"The long and the short of it is," Qasim continued, "that in the year 156, after all negotiations broke down, Premier Elijah sent the Republican legions to besiege Indernes. The citizens, tired of the chieftain's rule – he had crossed the line into full-blown megalomania, and was now calling himself 'the Duke' – helped the legionaries get in, and after months of battle, Elijah's forces recaptured Indernes and had the Journeymen executed – every manjack of them – for sedition. And there, to most historians, ends the story. Aramondrius wrote a touching book about them, and they entered the realm of legend."
"So what really happened?" Lavie said, leaning forward.
"You are intelligent, Miss," Qasim said, beaming at her. "There were persistent rumours that, while Lucien and his men – including his sons – all died, his daughter survived. Very little is known about her, because all the records of Indernes went up in flames during the siege. However, the most reliable rumours – if rumours can be reliable – claim that her name was Sheila or Celia, and that she married a Galvenian."
"Celia – C., then? You mean Lucien's daughter married Aramondrius and settled in Galvenia?"
"Ahem, not so fast, Miss Regale! But that is, indeed, what those of us who are Journeymen buffs all suspect. My good friend Colin Erasmus of Galvenia has also done some work on the same lines, and he feels that a lot of Aramondrius' history – including his apologia for Lucien – was written based on his wife's account. This diary, if it is accurate – and if our surmise about Aramondrius is true – traces the bloodline of the unfortunate Lucien up to the present day."
"And Granddaddy's a descendant of his!" Lavie said, with a look of amazement on his face. "I checked out those initials with Mom – I didn't tell her what for, of course – and she said that his father's name was Michael, and that he had a little sister, Dorothy, who died young giving birth to a baby."
"That would explain his own knowledge of the family tree, Miss," Qasim reflected. "But it's the end of that tree that bothers me."
"What about the note next to C.A.? The one about the letters A and E?" Lavie asked.
"Oh, that's not too hard to explain," Qasim replied. "Though he is revered now, Aramondrius wasn't exactly popular in Galvenia in his day – people thought he was too close to the Zion and the Church of the Infinity, and he died in relative obscurity. His children probably changed their surname to something quiet and Galvenian, such as Edwards or Eastman." He chuckled. "Or any name beginning with E, it's anyone's guess. None of them ever became famous, so that detail is lost to history. Besides, records weren't kept that carefully in those days."
"Gran might have known," Lavie said ruefully, "but I can't ask her now."
"Anyway, that's a peripheral detail. Your grandfather, judging by you, must have been an intelligent and rational man."
"Well, he was a judge," Lavie said, blushing at the compliment. "He was in the Army for a short while, then studied law, and then married Gran and set up practice in Westchester. He became a judge a little after Mom was born."
"Exactly. Now a man of that sort deals in evidence. He is unlikely to write about the end of the world unless he believes he has found something truly significant. Miss Regale, do you have any idea who T.A. might be?"
"The last man on the list?"
"That's right. We have some information about him: his father's name begins with a G, he was married twice – the second time to someone named S.R. – and he has at least two children. Going by your grandfather's notes, the second of those children is married. Do you know anyone who fits that description?"
Lavie shook her head. "Offhand, no," she said. "I know a couple of people who are divorced – for example, Marianne's father – and his name begins with an R. But even if we find out who it is, what does it matter?"
"Miss Regale," Qasim said, and he now looked intently at her, the pleasant façade gone. "That man – or his child – is the last of the Journeymen. He may have magical powers of his own. He may have access to records or magical lore that the Zion would kill for. And given the mysterious deaths of Koketsu, Prince Wilhelm and your Socius, I am afraid. I am very afraid. Lucien, remember, flirted with the darker side of his power. This man may have gone further."
"You mean…." Lavie shuddered.
"It is just a surmise, but your grandfather would not be dramatic if there was no cause for concern, Miss Regale," Qasim said, shaking his head. "If that man is still alive, then he is dangerous."
xxx
"We've got them all, Ryan!" Sergeant Carpenter called out exultantly. "By gum, they hardly had the time to put up a fight."
And indeed, in a quick sweep, the twenty Zion agents had been rapidly caught in a net of their own making. Armed with superior maps and better weapons, Ryan's men had not even needed the support of Benwick's division to completely secure the camp. One of his men was seriously injured, but so were five of the Zion, and the rest were captive.
"The Princess must be this way," Benwick said, as his men sealed the entrance. "Ryan, you go ahead. Geoff and I will guard your back."
As he went deeper into the woods, he came upon a tent guarded by two men. With two quick, ruthless rounds of fire, they were disabled, and Ryan moved into the tent. She was sitting on her bunk, her hands folded in her lap, her head bowed. Ryan caught his breath, then entered, feeling a lump rise in his throat.
I will protect her.
"Princess?" Ryan said. "Princess, it's us. The Galvenian Army. We're here to take you home."
Carranya stood up and stared at Ryan with surprise and dismay. "Ryan?" She shook her head. "No, no….it can't be true. He must have lied…."
"What can't be, Princess?" he said gently.
In hushed tones, Carranya narrated her encounter with the spiky-haired man. Ryan nodded darkly, then took her hand.
"Carranya," he said calmly, "that man is a criminal. His name is Makarov Juno, and he's under suspicion of treason himself. In fact, he was probably the man who attacked you and destroyed your Memory Crystal at Davenport Beach."
Carranya stared at him, wide-eyed. "Sweet Infinity, I do believe that you're right," she gasped. "We must leave here before he comes back!"
"No fears, Princess," Ryan replied. "We've got fifty men here, and plenty of weapons. He's one jackass with a fancy sword. He hasn't got a chance."
Carranya smiled. "I trust you, Ryan," she whispered. "I trust you completely. Come, take me home…"
Before she could say anything further, they were interrupted by the sound of screams and gunfire outside. Ryan, drawing his own rifle, rushed out of the tent, motioning to two of his men to guard the Princess, and stared in horror at the scene before him…
Smoke filled the air. The bodies of ten of his soldiers – including Sergeant Carpenter – lay on the ground, and approaching rapidly were a small group of men bearing wands – with Juno at their head.
"Well, well," he called out defiantly. "I see you're a little early, miserable Eramond. Now step aside before I dispose of you as well."
Ryan clenched his teeth, and suddenly raised his hand. In a flash, Benwick and his men attacked Juno's soldiers from the rear, firing several volleys. Caught off-guard, the men retaliated with their wands, and the entire scene was chaos for several moments, with the flashes of rifles and the green and yellow light of the spells lighting up the night sky. Ryan, in the meantime, sprang forward and held off Juno, who was trying to enter the Princess' tent. The two men guarding her, struck by stray bolts of yellow light, collapsed.
Suddenly, after what seemed an eternity, there was a strange stillness, and he was left facing Juno, and Juno alone. There were no others left – not his men, not the wizards Juno seemed to have brought. The forest earth was a graveyard.
Juno laughed. "Ironic, isn't it, Eramond? A fight to the death. Come, now, let us settle our scores once and for all. For honour. For Galvenia. For love, if you know what that word means." He sneered. "And once I have destroyed you and rescued the Princess myself, nothing will stand in my way. Nothing!"
"You're insane, Juno," Ryan said angrily, still shaking as he looked at the corpses of his men. "You belong in a lunatic asylum. You're not human."
"You are less than human, you miserable dog," Juno replied. "Was it not enough for you to play at being a soldier, and to break a young girl's heart? I will teach you your final lesson, Eramond, but I will not kill you – I will allow you to live with the knowledge that you will never be anything more than a low-born, bottom-feeding animal. Come, defend yourself!"
"Sticks and stones, Luno," Ryan said, softly, looking at the light that surrounded Juno's blade. "Sticks and stones. Put that pansy pink sword of yours where your big mouth is!"
Juno thrust forward, and the fight began. Carranya, standing at the entrance of the tent, watched with horror. It was a fierce battle – the determination of Ryan against the almost maniacal intensity of Juno – and it only ended when Juno, ducking a blow of Ryan's, began to run straight for the tent.
"Carranya! No!" Ryan said, chasing after him.
Juno smiled, and turned back in a flash. He struck hard with the hilt of his sword, stunning Ryan and breaking his nose. Too stunned to react, he watched in a daze as Juno aimed for his side. There was a sickening smell of scorched cloth and flesh, followed by a sharp pain as the blade caught fire and pierced his side, just below his heart.
"Damn….you," Ryan said, falling to his knees. "Damn you for the murdering bastard that you are…."
"Not so proud now, are we, Eramond?" Juno sneered. "Now lie there like a good boy, while I fetch the Princess." He kicked Ryan contemptuously with one boot, then began to walk towards the tent deliberately.
If you lose, lose with dignity.
Save Carranya.
Summoning up the last of his strength, Ryan drew his pistol, aimed it between Juno's shoulder-blades, and fired….
xxx
Ryan awoke, feeling his entire left side throb with pain. But he could breathe, and his mind was clear. He opened his eyes.
"Where am I?" he said softly. It seemed as if a long time had passed, but his watch informed him that it was still night.
"We're still at the camp, Ryan," Carranya said, kneeling beside the bed on which he now found himself. "You managed to drag yourself into the tent after – shooting Juno." She closed her eyes. "I – I mean, I looked after you."
"Is my bag still there – the one I brought into your tent?" Ryan said, sitting up with an effort. "It's strange – I'm sore, but I thought he wounded me much worse than that."
"About that, Ryan –" Carranya blushed, and lowered her head. "I can explain."
Ryan stood up, feeling surprisingly steady despite his recent misadventure, and looked out. The bodies of his men – and Juno's wizards – still littered the floor, and Juno lay near the entrance of the tent, still breathing.
"I should just finish him off," Ryan said, drawing his pistol.
"No, Ryan," Carranya said softly. "We need to find out whom he was serving, and how he obtained such a dangerous weapon."
"First things first," Ryan said, shaking his head and opening his bag. "Thank the Colonel for this, but I actually had the foresight to leave some of my men up in the hills. If I call them on the radio, they'll be here in less than a day. In the meantime, let's just tie up this clown here" – he shot a murderous look at Juno – "and take him back to Lorean to face the music."
Carranya began to weep quietly.
"Hey, Princess," Ryan said, leading her back inside the tent, "it's all right. You're safe again, okay? I would never let anyone harm you. And certainly not that idiot Juno. I'll look after you until we get back, and my men would never hurt you."
She did not reply, but clung to him, leaning against the breastplate of his armour.
"Is this – are you upset about the wedding, Princess?" Ryan whispered.
"It's not that, Ryan," Carranya said in a choked voice. "It's – Ryan, I probably trust you more than anyone else in the world – more than Father or Mother. And yet – if I told you certain things, I couldn't bear to have you think badly of me…" She began to sob again, and Ryan placed his arms around her.
"Look, Princess," Ryan said, "I'm not exactly smelling of roses here. I've killed, I've seen my friends get killed. And whatever it is, I'll stand with you. Now why don't you rest a little, and as soon as my men get here, we can get going. There'll be plenty of time to talk on the way – for now, just take it easy. Everything will be all right."
Sitting at her bedside a few moments later, and watching her sleep, Ryan wished earnestly that his last words could be true.
xxx
It was a sad and sober Council of Viceroys that gathered around the table today. Their leader, Count Hunermann, was absent on an unspecified 'urgent task', and none of the news they had received was good.
"The Commonwealth has strengthened Itaria to the point where any talk of victory is purely academic," Baron Hunzicker, Viceroy of Issachar, observed. "We could raise the ante further, but that would leave us seriously exposed on the Ghetz border."
"The news from the Varald front is not much better, Hunzicker," Count Koenig, Viceroy of Eriksburg, said gloomily. "If things go on, I will soon be Viceroy of a province occupied entirely by the Varald. While we have superior sea weapons, and have worsted them in the few engagements we have had so far, we cannot win a land war without more forces."
"The Varald fight like the fanatics that they are," Baron Stansberg of Lesser Caledonia grumbled. "Worse, our attempt to put pressure on Arlbert has failed ignominiously; they have recaptured the Princess and wiped out our men. We dare not retaliate, because our southern border is pitifully weak – if Arlbert were not such a consummate fool, he would probably have recaptured Darington by now. Yet another of our clever plans which now finds itself in ruins."
"Even more disgracefully," Archbishop Gruner protested – he was present by a special invitation of the Council – "they have abducted Mother Anna, and set up the Pontiff and his men in safety at Unity Isle."
"You speak the truth, Stansberg," Baron Hussong of Zollern said, shaking his head. "If only the Emperor…."
But before he could complete his sentence, Count Hunermann entered into the room with uncharacteristic hurry, looking excited.
"Ah, our fearless leader," Stansberg said wearily. "What now, Hunermann?"
"My friends," he replied, heedless of the hostile atmosphere in the room, "I come now from the Royal Palace, where the Court physicians have confirmed a most extraordinary piece of news. The Emperor's ailment has not progressed as we feared it would – no, indeed, it is getting better."
This news had about the same impact as if Hunermann had suddenly hurled a grenade onto the top of the marble table. More than one Viceroy stood up, and every eye was fixed on the Chairman.
"Impossible," Archbishop Gruner said, breaking the long silence that ensured. "Are you sure of this?"
"My dear Archbishop, the physicians are quite certain," Hunermann said, and seated himself at the head of the table. "Come, my friends, now is not the time to focus on defeats. This is a good omen."
xxx
She told him the truth one warm night, as spring turned to summer, in a small valley between the hills and crags that he had traversed to find her. They had stopped for their final rest before the trek back to Lorean, and were already on Galvenian soil. Some of the men had made a fire to roast some of their provisions, and after the bulk of them had retired for the night, Ryan sat beside the Princess, looking at its glowing embers.
"Ryan," she whispered, "aren't there moments which you wish – oh, how do I put this – moments that wouldn't end? Where everything seems perfect, and you wish you could just stay that way, and forget that there'll be a tomorrow?"
Ryan smiled at her. "I know a thing or two about that, Carranya," he said. "Life's like that, I guess. We have to be grateful for those moments, even if they don't last."
"I've made a decision, Ryan," Carranya said, looking at him with a nervous smile. "I'm – going to tell you the truth about myself."
"What do you mean?" Ryan said, puzzled.
"I mean – you've saved my life more than once, and you're perhaps the only person I can trust with….this burden I've been carrying, Ryan," Carranya said softly. "And I want you to trust me as well. Only…"
"Carranya, I already trust you," Ryan said warmly. "What is it?"
"Only – don't hate me once I've told you," she said, hiding her face in her hands. "I – couldn't bear it, Ryan."
Ryan took one of her hands in his own. "Look, Carrie," he said – and she blushed to hear him use the affectionate nickname, the one he had used on the Paradiso – "I don't hate people that easily. Now calm down, and tell me about it."
Carranya looked up at the sky, and began to speak, holding his hand tightly.
"You've seen my parents," she began. "Father is – well, he is what he is. And Mother has been – how do I say this nicely? – melancholy for a long time, largely because of his actions. She desperately wanted to have more children, but the doctors said that wouldn't be likely. Sometimes I think she's – unhappy about the fact that I'm not a boy; she feels that her hold on Father would be stronger if she'd had a son."
"We always want what we can't have, Carrie," Ryan said soothingly. "Trouble is, we don't know if we'd still want it once we do get it."
"How true, Ryan," Carranya replied. "Because I was the only child, I was always watched very carefully, as I told you on board ship. I could have anything I wanted, but I couldn't have friends – and Mother was mortally afraid of anything happening to me. She thought Father would repudiate her if she had no living child. Even a walk in the woods, or a visit with her, had to be with guards, or a chaperone. Other children, even the sons and daughters of nobles, were kept at a distance, and even those who were friendly soon decided to stay away."
Ryan said nothing, but moved closer to her.
"I was alone, Ryan – of course, some of Mother's friends would spend a little time with me, and I had a spiritual advisor who would give me good advice. When I was fourteen, I discovered that I could….that I had a rare ability."
"Light-based magic?" Ryan said helpfully. "I guess that's how you healed me after the fight with Juno."
"You're right, Ryan," Carranya replied. "I was so glad that I could do that for you, after all you'd done for me."
"Oh, think nothing of it," Ryan said. "One good turn deserves another, as Grandpa always said. So what happened next?"
"My spiritual advisor, Father Thomssen, warned me not to use my – my gift too much, as it could be dangerous," she went on slowly. "But the trouble started when I was sixteen, and allowed to go to my first ball, which was a memorial for Lady Penelope's birth anniversary. Father and Mother had – a quarrel during the event, because Father was…."
"Flirting with someone? Never mind him, Carrie," Ryan replied. "What happened to you?"
"I was alone for a while, and I met – someone," Carranya said. "He was only a little older than me – maybe in his early twenties – and I hadn't seen him before. He was – he seemed to be – very kind, and I felt that I could talk to him, tell him things about my life. He was sympathetic. He was a young noble, and I – I was attracted to him, Ryan. You can't imagine what it was like – to just have a friend, after all those years. I met him again at two later events, including Mother's birthday."
Ryan frowned, but said nothing.
"One day, it happened. Mother and Father were on a journey to the Museum at Lorean, where they were inaugurating a new machine for recording and reproducing sounds. I was left with the guards and a chaperone, one of Mother's friends. That's when he came. He wanted to meet me, and my chaperone didn't mind, because he was from a good family. He asked me to take a walk with him."
"I left the Palace, and just as we entered the gardens, I saw he had a carriage waiting. He said he – wanted to show me the outside world, just for once. I couldn't resist, Ryan. I agreed. We drove to Lorean Glade, and we just sat there, talking together. Then he told me – that he loved me, and that he would do anything for my sake."
Ryan's other fist tightened, but he tried not to show any emotion.
"I told him – that I cared for him too, and he…" Carranya faltered. "He kissed me, and told me that he'd come back again – as often as I wanted. We got up, and began to leave, when – we found that there were guards waiting outside the glade, along with Mother. She was distraught. She took me into her carriage, and drove back to the Palace without saying a word. He stood there, calling my name…"
She began to shake, and instinctively, Ryan placed his arm around her.
After a long pause, she spoke again. "Mother told me that she was very disappointed with my conduct, and that I'd betrayed her trust," she went on, "and she asked Father Thomssen to speak to me. He spent a lot of time questioning me about what happened, then called Mother into the room, and that's when he told us."
"Told you what?" Ryan said, confused. This was not what he had been expecting.
"He told me that, for a Royal Princess to behave in this way, something was seriously wrong with me. That I couldn't have done – what I did, unless I was…" She struggled with the word.
"Wicked? Abandoned? Vulgar?" Ryan suggested.
"Possessed," Carranya replied, in the lowest of whispers.
"Possessed?" Ryan's eyes opened wide. "That's – that's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard, Carrie! Your Thomssen must be a religious fanatic…."
"I – wasn't sure, myself, when I first heard it," Carranya whispered, "but I was so guilty about – about hurting Mother, that I didn't know what to think. He said it was a punishment for my father's sins, and that he would do everything in his power to – to remove the demon from me. He warned Mother that it would be difficult, but she asked him to try her best."
"I stayed for days in my room, with only Father Thomssen and some of the women at Court for company. Mother would come once a day, and remain only for a short while. He would make me pray with him for long hours, sometimes almost the whole night, and he also burned various herbs and oils, some of which made me feel ill and tired. This went on for four days. When I slept, I would have horrible dreams – dreams in which a demon was grabbing me, breathing on me, tearing my clothing…"
"Herbs can cause nightmares, Carrie," Ryan said, as she leaned closer to him. "That doesn't mean you're possessed. It means your Father Thomssen is a twit."
"Wait, Ryan," she said. "One night, I had the same dream. It was terrible. Then, suddenly, I woke up – and I saw him."
"Saw a demon?" Ryan shook his head. "Are you sure you weren't hallucinating? There are herbs that do that, too. I once read a book in Mr. Regale's library about them."
"Not a demon, Ryan," Carranya whispered, as tears began to run down her face. "Him. Father Thomssen. It was him. He was – touching me…" Her voice failed, and she continued to weep silently.
Despite his short and eventful career in the Army – or his fights with Juno – Ryan had never, until that day, felt the urge to kill a man in cold blood. On that night, for the first time, he did. If Father Thomssen had stood before him at that moment, he would have gunned him down without the slightest compunction.
"Wh – what happened then, Carrie?" Ryan whispered, afraid to ask, but at the same time wanting to know.
"I screamed. I screamed loudly, and the women who were outside came rushing in – thank God, they came…" Carranya replied. "He told them I'd had a nightmare, but that I was more or less cured, and that they could go now. I began to cry. I said I didn't want to be alone – that I wanted Mother, or at least some of them, to stay with me. I was terrified, Ryan. I wanted to escape, to run out of the room, but I was too weak. He wouldn't let me eat, often, saying that fasting would drive the demon out."
"The only demon in this story is your Thomssen," Ryan said angrily. "Why didn't you tell your father or mother about this?"
"Father Thomssen asked the women to wait for a few moments outside," Carranya went on, shaking her head. "Then he told me not to say a word of this to anyone. He said that even the boy I'd met had been – bribed by my parents, so that he'd never see me again. He said that no one would believe me, because I had no virtue any more – by running away with that boy, I'd soiled my reputation. Damaged. That's what he called me, Ryan. Damaged goods. It's what I am…"
Ryan held her close to him, until her sobs had subsided a little.
"Carrie, listen to me," he said patiently but firmly, as if he were addressing one of the soldiers under him. "You are not 'damaged'. You are not 'spoiled'. Repeat that to yourself twenty times – a hundred if you must – every night before you go to bed. In your story, there's a criminal and a victim, and you're not the criminal. Listen, Carranya, I…."
"Wait, Ryan," Carranya said softly. "Fortunately, the next day, he stopped using the herbs, and I always insisted on having someone with me when he visited – at least one of the maids. I – I became paranoid, Ryan. Even a Palace guard, or one of the Ministers, would frighten me. I wondered if – if I could trust anyone. If they would – try to hurt me like Father Thomssen did. I couldn't tell Mother – it would break her heart, because she depended on him. All I could do was – take precautions. And he continued to be cold and hard with me, reminding me that I was wicked, and could be possessed again if I wasn't careful. He probably would have tried another exorcism after I returned from the Paradiso, except that some of Mother's friends persuaded her that it wasn't necessary. And he was right – I never did see that boy again."
"So now you know, Ryan," Carranya said. "When I met you, and when I saw the way you treated me, I felt like a door was opening for the first time in years – a door that Father Thomssen, and Mother, and even my friend had all shut in my face and locked, perhaps forever. I – felt that I could hope again, that I could trust again. I could face the next day without – being so scared. That's why I kissed you during that play – to thank you. But I'm still – not worthy to be a Queen of Galvenia, Ryan. I'm not fit…."
Ryan waited till she had stopped crying, then looked at her. His look was gentle and affectionate – though he still burned to strike down Thomssen with a single blow.
"Carranya," he said, "listen to me. I'm a soldier, and I've received wounds in battle. Being wounded doesn't mean that you're permanently damaged or unfit – just look at me! There are wounds of the mind as well as the body – that's something I've begun to understand ever since I started wearing this uniform. And we can be healed, Carranya. Humans are tough. We can get better. I can't speak for your parents, or that perverted bastard of a Thomssen…"
"Ryan!" Carranya exclaimed.
"Call a spade a spade, Carranya, that's what he is. He's the one who needs an exorcism – followed by an execution, if I had my way. But speaking as myself – Second Lieutenant Ryan Eramond – I still stand by what I told you a year ago, Carranya. You'll make a fine Queen someday – you've lived through things that would have broken a lesser woman forever. As for that young fop who gave you up for money or position – he doesn't realize that he's lost something precious, lost it forever." His hand touched her cheek lightly. "Carranya Lionheart, no matter what some idiots might say, you'll always be precious to at least one man on Terra. To me."
Carranya blushed. "Do – do you really mean that, Ryan?"
"I don't usually say things I don't mean, Carrie," Ryan replied. "It's an Eramond family trait."
"Ryan…" Carranya leaned against him for support. "It's going to take time, Ryan – and once I return to the Palace, I will have to marry the Duke. I don't know how I can face it…."
"One day at a time, Carrie," Ryan said gently, stroking her hair as if he was comforting a small child, rather than a grown woman. "We'll cross that bridge once we cross those hills. And no matter what happens – even if I end up just the Palace guard outside your castle – I will always be there to support you. Do you believe me?"
"Thank you, Ryan. I do," Carranya said simply, smiling at him. It was a simple smile – a child's smile – and it seemed as if the reserve that she once had had fallen away. "Thank you very much."
"Come, let's get you to bed now," he said, helping her get up from the log they were sitting on. "You've had a long day, and we have a long march ahead of us tomorrow."
"Isn't it strange," she said, as they walked to the entrance of her tent, hand in hand. "I thought you would run from me screaming, and yet – here we are."
"Hell, Carranya," Ryan replied with a friendly smile, "it'd take more than that to make me run screaming, you know. We're the Galvenian Army…"
Carranya suddenly froze. "Did you hear something?" she said.
"Hmm? A faint rustling, yes," Ryan replied, looking at the bushes. "Probably nothing serious. If you ask me, it's one of the soldiers disposing of an empty beer bottle." He laughed.
Carranya relaxed and smiled. "Ryan," she said, "you can be so – so comforting, sometimes."
xxx
"Someone on business?" Theodore Eramond said sharply. "I haven't given anyone an appointment at home today, Sheila. Who could it be?"
"Dark hair, blue eyes, tall, rather determined," his wife replied with a smile. "He said he'd wait as long as you wanted, but he had to see you."
"Oh, I suppose this must be Government business," Theodore said, shrugging his shoulders. "I'm just glad that Ryan is back in Galvenia. He wired from the Palace, saying that he'd probably get a chance to see us this weekend."
"Isn't that wonderful?" Sheila said adoringly. "Just think, dear. Ryan – back at home again."
"Not for long, given what the Zion are facing," he replied. "The boy will probably have to deploy soon. But I agree with you, Sheila, it's good to have our son back. Send this tall, dark, handsome gentleman in, so that I can deal with him."
A few moments later, the man entered Theodore's study, bowing as he did. Theodore took one look at him, then moved uncomfortably in his seat, as if shrinking from him.
"You?" he said. "What do you want?"
"I have heard," Jason Lugner replied, with an innocent smile, "that you are Galvenian's best delivery agency, and that you give satisfaction even if it involves catching criminals and traitors. Am I correct?"
Theodore frowned. "You'll have to ask – my son about that, honestly," he said. "But yes, we do keep our customers satisfied."
"Your son?" Jason laughed. "Ah, words, words. Such tricky little things. But enough palaver, Mr. Eramond. We have a little task for you."
"I will not be involved in anything illegal," Theodore said firmly. "Do you understand?"
"Let me tell you a little story," Jason Lugner said. "There once was a Zionese Emperor who wanted to dispose of his rival. Unfortunately, he could hardly kill the man in broad daylight, so he made use of an old ploy. He arranged for two of his rival's favourite foods to be delivered to him. Taken individually, each was harmless, containing only traces of two different poisons. But when the two poisons mixed in the unfortunate man's stomach, he was well and truly finished. In such a case, Mr. Eramond, no guilt could be assigned, and that Emperor reigned for many, many years."
"I will not help you kill anyone," Theodore said softly. "I know that I owe you – certain things, but I am not a murderer. The Eramond men have never been criminals."
"Ah, but what is a crime, Mr. Eramond?" Jason said softly. "Believe me, I know the story of the Eramond men as well as you do. When a crime is committed at the Government's orders, or for the good of the country, is it a crime? When a soldier kills an enemy in combat, is it murder? When an Intelligence agent is forced to dispose of an assassin, is he an assassin himself?"
"Enough!" Theodore said sharply. "Tell me what you want, Jason."
"Nothing, really," he said, still smiling. "A trifle. I want you to deliver this package to a certain nobleman – one who sees wedding bells ringing in his future." He laughed – a pleasant, light laugh. "Don't you believe in wedding presents, Mr. Eramond?"
"You mean the Duke of Marksmith," Theodore said slowly. "If there is anything illegal or poisonous inside it…."
"Only a Memory Crystal, my dear Mr. Eramond," Jason replied. "You can weigh it if you want. And while we are on the topic, if you fail to oblige us, the Interior Minister will be quite interested in some of the deliveries you have made."
Theodore turned pale, and a drop of perspiration trickled down his forehead.
"You see, Mr. Eramond, Sigmund Regale was loyal to you, and named no names. But I'm afraid not all of us are repentant alcoholics. And that is not all. We have an inventory of materials stored in your warehouse in the year 288; we have certain documents obtained from the offices of the Justice of the Peace at Darington…."
Theodore rose from his chair. "You devil!" he said, between clenched teeth. "If you think you can blackmail me, you are mistaken. As for your – other threats, I am not a dissembler like you. My wife knows everything."
"Ah, but does your son know?" Jason said lazily, drawing a pocket-knife from his coat. "Does Ryan know, Mr. Eramond?"
"You would not dare…." Theodore said, shaking his head.
"When my country is in danger, Mr. Eramond, I would. Now here's your assignment." He took out a small package from another pocket of his coat, and laid it on the table. "Deliver it, and we can forget this entire conversation. Otherwise, I will send two letters – one to Sir Cornelius, and one to your boy, who is now a decorated war hero. Think carefully, Mr. Eramond."
"Very well, I shall," Theodore said frantically. "And now leave! Leave at once!"
"Good day, Mr. Eramond," Jason said, with a polite bow as he turned to leave. "It is always good to speak to a man of discrimination and intelligence."
Theodore sat in his chair, feeling faint and nauseated, as Jason Lugner left the room.
"By King Richard," he said quietly. "Father – forgive me, Father. Help me. What should I do?"
xxx