Chapter XII

Memories haunt Rose as she makes steps to help Rafe with saving the Hollow.

Chapter XII

Haunted

 

“Watching me, wanting me

I can feel you pull me down.”

-      Haunted by Evanescence  

 

The council decided, after a couple of long hours, that Rafe was right in being against a full out assault. However, they wouldn’t settle unless they were given the blood lost. Shyly, I had spoken up.

     Rafe had been in the middle of a very heated argument with half the room, no one wanting to listen to the idea of a quiet and shady form of revenge. Quietly, I spoke (at the exact moment that every man seemed to fall silent for a moment) up. “What if it only started quiet?”

     Looking at me, Rafe looked confused �" as if I was siding against him. John calmly asked me, “What do you mean, Rose?”

     I sank into my chair. Back home, I could command a room easily. However, I knew that room. Here, I was a stranger and here, women weren’t thought of as someone meant to be on a war council. My opinion was likely to be rejected anyway. Spike urged me gently with a gesture, nodding at me. Swallowing, I suggested very quietly, “Rafe has a point. We can’t charge in like a bunch of animals.”

     “What,” another man spoke, “then, do you suggest?”

     His tone somehow gave me a bit of confidence, speaking a bit louder now as I sat up a little. “First of all, I suggest we all listen to Rafe.” Arguments started to rise, but I stood, hands on the table. “I’m not saying we have to do exactly as he says, but he’s right. We’ll never win in an open battle. We need the element of surprise to have a shot.”

     “How would this idea get loud, sweetheart? That’s what everyone is asking here,” yet another male asked.

     I thought for a moment, not really sure myself. Then, an idea randomly came to mind. “We send in a small but capable team of no more than ten men. Most of them would need to be skilled at moving quietly and quickly. Rafe would have to go �" we need people who can kill without being detected.”

     An elderly man scoffed, saying, “Are you saying we should assassinate the whole damn base?”

     I shook my head, replying, “We’d only need to kill the guards who are in the way. Otherwise, we actually need to avoid a body count.” I bit my lip, losing my confidence. Rafe saw this and batted the side of my leg with the back of his hand to get my attention. I looked back at him and he nodded with a stone expression but I saw the encouragement in his eyes.

     Taking a deep breath, I asked, “Is there anyone in the Hollow who can rig explosives?”

     Spike spoke next. “My son is good with the powder, aye. What are you proposing?”

     With the knowledge that my idea was possible, I told them. “With the help of your son, Spike, we can rig an explosion.” A teensy bit shy about discussing magic, my eyes darted away from the faces staring at me as I went on. “I just need to have something flammable to focus on. As long as I’m within fifty yards, I can set it on fire.”

     “In that case,” a hefty man laughed, “she could walk up to the base and set hay bales on fire in the barn.”

     Rolling my eyes in irritation at being mocked, I snapped, “Blowing up the barn will only piss them off.” He looked surprised at my tone but I didn’t care. Shyness suddenly gone, I kept talking. “I was thinking that if we could get something extremely flammable �" that will make a nice loud boom �" in the center of the Barrack, we can bring it down. It won’t get rid of them, but they’d be weak for months. We could also send a second team to cause a distraction �" release some of the prisoners. With an explosion and a jailbreak, we’ll have the perfect chance to put the entire Barrack out of commission for a good six months. That’s long enough to build up the forces that would be needed to take them on �" if they’re still bothering Meir.”  

     For a moment, the room was silent and I was expecting everyone to disagree with the idea. Then, however, the elderly man who’d spoken against Erin talked. “Rafe,” he said as if he was angry, voice gruff. I glanced at Rafe before looking back at the man, who was looking at me now. Suddenly, a grin touched his mouth and he said, “Bring her more often.”

     Rafe, who never lost confidence for a second, merely replied, “I’m actually hoping this is the last time we have to convene on the matter, Lord Drake.”

     “Nevertheless, I like her,” he said, rising from his seat and heading for the door at the opposite end I’d entered from.

     Rafe stood, patting my back as he said, “She’s not bad.”

     “Not bad,” I stated with a wry grin.

     He just grinned at me and nudged me toward the door. As we left, I went up to Spike and hugged him tight around the neck. He looked confused until I told him shyly, “Thank you for sticking up for me. I appreciate it.”

     He hugged me back, releasing me and patting me on the rump as I headed off to follow Rafe. “He’s a good man, lass. He’ll make you happy.”

     I paused, looking back at him as I laughed nervously, saying, “Oh, no… Spike, Rafe and I aren’t that way about each other. We’re friends �" and I have to be on my way soon.”

     This seemed to confuse him as he said, “Oh, well... It’s only you two seem awfully close.”

     Shaking my head, I admitted awkwardly, “He and I are just on the same road for now. That’s all.”

     He shrugged, heading on his way as he told me, “If you say so.”

    

     Rafe and I were sitting around the bonfire (they had taken to do it every couple of days now, to celebrate the impending end of Meir’s terrorizing.) We were just talking, laughing at the general hilarity around us. Men fell over drunk with the fun they were having. Rafe had just helped one such fellow up onto his feet so he could stumble off to dance with a pretty girl who was making eyes at him.

     “Alright, now try to stay standing, my friend. The ladies don’t like to be crushed under our weight,” Rafe was telling him. The man just laughed and went on his way.

     He sat next to me as I laughed and said, “I think this is the first time you and I have just… relaxed since meeting.”

     The thought seemed to strike him just as suddenly as he looked at me, paused, and admitted, “I think you’re right.”

     “Why is that?”

     “I honestly don’t know,” he replied, not looking at me as he sipped on his mug again. I was drinking a hot cup of coffee while he cooled off with an icy mug of mead. Up in the trees at night, I easily got cold. He, however, had some built-in sense of heat because he was constantly getting over heated. Another testament to his easily-overheated body: he had taken his shirt off an hour ago and was now walking around clad only in his boots and trousers. He’d torn the shirt horrendously play-fighting with one of the men, so he’d merely ripped it the rest of the way and let it hang around his waist (as it had been tucked into his waistband.)

     I was wearing the thick dark grey cloak that Rafe normally wore over all of his clothes while walking about the Hollow. It was wonderfully warm and after he’d watched me shiver for an hour, he wordlessly draped it around my shoulders, only scolding the thin material of my dress. I pulled it tightly around me now, inhaling the musky-wood smell that was Rafe. “Are you getting tired?”

     The question brought me back to reality and I realized that I’d closed my eyes whilst inhaling the cloak’s scent. It was soothing for me. Blushing, I shook my head and said softly, “Only enjoying the warmth of your cloak, Rafe. Thank you for lending it to me.”

     “It’s nothing. Even I’m starting to feel a bit chilled; I guess that means it’s getting particularly late.” He finished his mug and said, “We should get to bed then. You and I are going tomorrow night and need to be well rested.”

     I took the mug from him as he started to refill it, setting it aside as I teased, “We also need to be sober.”

     He just laughed, shrugging as he stood and offered a hand down to me to help me up. I took it graciously and kept one hand clasped on the cloak to keep it about my shoulders. Easily, Rafe practically flung me up to my feet. I yelped in surprise from the strength he still had. This, of course, only served to make him laugh and ask, “Are you alright?”

     Nodding, I assured him, “You’ve had four mugs. I was sure you’d be a little… tipsy by now.” I recalled quite well his reaction to being called drunk.

     Rafe merely shook his head and told me, his hand placed on my lower back as he helped guide me through the mass of people who were still getting drunk, “I haven’t been drinking on an empty stomach. You’ll remember that my plate was filled to the brim with food.”

     I did recall. His appetite had been rather impressive this evening. I hadn’t questioned it, chalking it up to his male blood. We were on our own now, walking along the mostly deserted walks of the Hollow. It was eerie to be out so late �" with no one else around. Between the almost-dead silence and the dark, the night took on a truly secluded feel. I walked close to him out of a silly fear that someone would come bounding out the night to slit our throats.

     A memory flash made me wince inwardly. I didn’t make a habit of walking alone at night �" or at night, for that matter.

     I had only been thirteen years old. It had been a balmy summer evening and the moon had been beautifully full… I had just taken part in my first Solstice Gathering. Walking home alone, a bit early, had seemed innocent enough an idea. I had been tired from all the exertion put on the younger girls (who were responsible for running around and keeping torches lit and dozens of other odd jobs) and I’d wanted to retire early…

     There wasn’t a night that I didn’t wish I’d just toughed it out…

    

     Thirteen years, I’d lived on the island. Most of it was covered in either sand or dirt. The trees were toward the highest point on the island, whereas the lower parts were smothered in sand and huts. Island inhabitants preferred the sandy areas, because it felt good on the feet in the evenings. (Women on the island used to tell me that if you were willing to walk around barefooted in the evening, you’d never need to pumice your feet.)

 My aunt had been responsible for me since before I can remember but I’d never known her to be exceptionally kind. I knew that if I stayed out late and exhausted myself further, there would be no way I’d get up in time to finish my chores before breakfast. Then, I knew, she’d refuse to allow me to eat until lunch.

     My hair was long and thin, pulled back into a braid to be out of the way. My skin was still pale and my body was still a girl’s body. I had no hips or breasts to speak of �" I was just a girl. That had suited me fine. Boys didn’t pay me much mind, romantically, unlike the other girls in the temple. I always assumed that I wasn’t very pretty �" not that the temple boys saw me as their friend. I didn’t know then that once a sister to a boy, he could no longer see you… that way.

     The idea of someone wanting to attack me was so far gone… Walking home had, after all, seemed innocent enough…

 

     “Rose,” Rafe said my name softly. I snapped out of the daydream-memory. Smiling reassuringly at him, I apologized. He raised an eyebrow slightly and said, “You looked rather deep in thought. Should I leave you alone?”

     I shook my head, not wanting to be able to sink back to thoughts. Knowing my own mind the way I did, I knew that allowing even a moment’s reflection in a bad place might lead to nightmares for days. There were plenty of memories �" nightmares �" that had yet to be completely forgotten… I wanted him to distract me. “No, it’s okay. I was just daydreaming.” Biting my lip, I quickly changed the subject, “Did you have fun tonight?”

     He was no fool and knew I was avoiding something, but our unspoken agreement not to push each other kept him, I think, from bothering me. “I did,” he replied casually, as if he wasn’t watching me for outward signs of being upset. As we entered the hut, I saw a splotch of blood on the white couch in the front room and gasped. Rafe apologized and said, “I cut myself cleaning a knife earlier today. I guess I forgot to clean that up. Let me get it.”

     Thankfully, he didn’t see how frozen I’d become. I couldn’t stop staring at the bloody stain on the couch cushion. My mind became fixated on the spot. The crimson mark on a snow-white couch…

 

     “Please,” I’d begged. I remember crying and kicking frantically. My bare feet did nothing against the thick muscled chests of the men around me. Sobbing, I cried out, “Please don’t hurt me. Please, let me go!” They didn’t hear me. They ignored anything that came out of my mouth until I tried screaming for help. One of them backhanded me so fiercely across the face that I went sprawling in the sand. Scrambling, I fought to get back on my feet.

     I managed to get my footing and take off running but one of them dived and grabbed the end of my dress �" my snow white dress �" and I heard ripping as the fabric gave. Even though it ripped, the jerk was enough to throw me off balance and knock me face first into the sand again. This time, one of them climbed on top of me. He flipped me over and a gin-soaked tongue rammed into my mouth.

     I screamed against the mouth that forced itself upon mine. His weight pinned my arms down enough that moving my hands was difficult. Needing him to be distracted, I kept turning my head to avoid his kisses. I had to think. I had to get free.

     It would not be this way for me.

     There was a knife in his belt and I got my hand around the hilt. I didn’t know too much about using blades but I knew enough to bluff my way out of this. Of course, this was counting on the idea that bluffing would be enough. He kissed me again and I used this chance to rip the blade from its sheath, pull my elbow painfully back, and ram the blade into his stomach.

     Something warm and wet splashed against my belly and chest in that moment, just as the gin-soaked tongue stopped its assault on my mouth. He rolled off of me, groaning in pain. His friends all froze, unsure of what had happened.

     They looked down at him. I looked down at myself �" and the blood that stained my once-beautiful snow-white dress.

 

     “Rose,” Rafe said again, his tone less gentle this time. His eyes were stony as he looked at me, but not with anger. There was a lot of concern and confusion. The only irritation I saw had to be from the fact that he had no way of knowing what was going on in my head. It probably occurred to him that I was not going to tell him either.

     My mind slowly slipped back into a slightly functional place and I managed to mumble with a weak smile, “I’m just so tired. I think I should go to sleep. Goodnight, Rafe.”

 

    “Goodnight, comrade,” he replied very softly. The nickname made me pause in the hallway to the room, but I kept walking anyway.

  

   I stripped down to my shift and slipped on the large shirt I’d stolen from Rafe the second week here, wanting to get comfortable so I’d fall asleep faster. Lying in the bed curled up under the covers, I thought idly on why I would now be remembering the first time I ever killed a man. The cause had been to survive. I’d had no choice then. Thinking back, I didn’t regret it a bit. The only real loss that night had been my beautiful dress. I’d loved it so much as a girl.

I rolled over when I heard heavy foot falls up the hallway, knowing Rafe was going to turn in as well. I wanted my back to him so he wouldn’t question whether or not I was asleep so long as I refrained from responding. Sure enough, he whispered my name softly to test for alertness. Eyes open and staring at the wall, I gave none. I listened as he stripped down, the soft clinking as he set his boots near his armor. The bed shifted as he climbed into his side, and I noticed that he didn’t bother with the covers. He’d warmed up since we left the square.

Things fell silent again but I couldn’t think, somehow, knowing he was awake beside me. Some paranoid thought in my head believed he’d hear me thinking about that first kill if I didn’t lie in silence until he fell asleep. It took him an hour to completely fall asleep; I realized that I was in such a trance with my own thoughts that, considering he didn’t tell me he knew I was awake, one of those things had happened.

He was going to leave me alone, on the principle that something was obviously wrong. The second possibility, and the more likely, was that my mind pulled my body into such a trance that my breathing would be slow, steady, and even, thus making him believe I’d gone to sleep as I’d said I would.

For the memory to come back to me now was odd, but my mentor, Crystal, had always taught me that memories and dreams surface for a reason. I can remember her long golden hair that she kept straight and beautiful. She typically tied back her bangs but left the rest to hang free. Her eyes, always a soft cerulean, were never anything other than gentle and kind. Fair skinned, thin, and pretty; Crystal had always had a place in my heart. She was the only mother I’d ever known.

Many times, I would go to her, confused. She’d always have some kind of answer for me. One particular time, only a year after the incident that haunted my mind tonight, I ran to half way across the island to her humble hut just off the western coast shore. I’d been in tears from the nightmares. I had asked her, “Crystal, why would this memory be coming back now?”

She looked at me calmly, despite being pulled from a sound sleep, and held me against her as I shook with the fear of my nightmare. “Calm yourself, my rose.” Her voice was always soothing. I’d calmed almost immediately just at the sound of it. “Think on recent events, little rose. You’ve just started joining the men in defense against pirates, correct?”

The question struck me as odd at the time, but I’d listened. “Yes,” I’d said.

Nodding, she’d asked me one question before sending me to bed: “That is the biggest change in your life right now. What does it have to do with the memory?”

I thought on that now. My mind reeled, looking for an answer. It frustrated me so much that I rolled over onto my back (as I often did when I was thinking in bed) to stare at the ceiling. What did an almost-rape have to do with my life right now? The answer when I was fourteen had been easy enough. I was killing pirates every other week as they attacked the island. Eventually, I’d had to ask myself another question.

Why had I killed the man attacking me? Then, yet another question arose in response. Why was I killing the pirates?

To protect myself, the answer shot up in my brain immediately. The attacker had been intending to rape me. My only choice had been to stab him or be raped �" or even killed. I’d chosen to stab him instead. I’d killed the pirates to protect not only myself, but the others who lived on the island. It hadn’t been a choice so much as a necessity. I’d known easily then that if I had decided not to kill the man or the pirates… they would have killed me without a second thought.

I felt stupid when the answer appeared in my mind. The impending raid on Barrack Nine had to be the answer. I was going to trigger an explosion that would cost possibly dozens of lives. I guess this dream was coming back to remind me why I took up a bow in the first place; to survive… to protect.

However, even this epiphany did not stop the nightmare that night.

Author's Note

Kay, by NOW. You should just know that Writerscafe replaces - with " so I Really don't wan't to hear it. KTHNXBAI. -- Uploading this, finally, because I have a reader who will chop off my (metaphorical) dick if I don't