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D. A. Houdek |
Deb Houdek Rule |
Web designer - Science Fiction author - Civil War historian - Genealogy researcherWelcome to my personal website! |
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Of All the Western Stars
by Deb Houdek Rule
Chapter 36
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Lisette struggled for a moment in the man’s arms. As she did his grip tightened to steel hardness. Sense overtook her panic and anger and she gradually forced herself to relax. The grip that held her eased only somewhat as she did so, however. He wasn’t going to relax his vigilance to as simple a ploy as had the highwayman. She dare not try too bold a move, not with the poison-laden injector at her neck.
Her heart leapt when she saw Ashur surrender. She wanted to shout to him not to, to hide and save himself. There was no hope. These evil men had won. Honored that Ashur had done this to save her life, Lisette nevertheless knew the Capellans would still kill her. Ashur had won no more than a brief reprieve for her.
With her left hand held fast, Lisette began inching her right hand beneath her coat. The man holding her seemed not to notice her stealthy moves, intent as he was on Ashur’s approach. Soon her fingers met the carved handle of the dagger she wore on Geraint’s belt. She closed her hand around it and began easing it out of its sheath.
All the while she watched Ashur approach down the slope. The Capellans kept their weapons trained on him. Beside her, just across the small stream, the roan mare wandered, slowly cropping grass unaware of the danger its mistress was in. Where was the stallion, Lisette wondered suddenly.
The knife came free of the sheath and was firmly held in her hand. She glanced toward the mare. Oft times she’d watched the men fling their knives, accurately striking what they wished. But she’d never done that, doubted she could. How then could she use this small weapon to any advantage over so overwhelming a force? She wanted to plunge the blade into the man’s heart, but she couldn’t do that without turning and his unbreakable grip would not allow that. Could she perhaps drive the knife upwards under his chin?
Lisette’s head swam and her vision blurred. By sheer force of will she suppressed the need to cough. The medicine was wearing off again. The nearness of the man holding her became an unbearable warmth and sweat broke out on her forehead. Not now, she thought, she hadn’t time for this weakness now.
Ashur was nearly to the stream. He stopped about ten feet short of it as the gnome ordered and tossed his weapon to the side. The mare vigorously chomped the grass near him. Desperately Lisette tried to frame her hopeless idea in her mind, to send those thoughts to Ashur, to share them in empathy as they had seemed to merge minds and hearts those times before. She saw Ashur’s dark eyes dart briefly to the mare and Lisette prayed he knew what she was thinking.
A shrill whinny sounded from the other side of the rise. The heads of the Capellans’ horse jerked upward. The mare raised her head and nickered a response. She trotted a few steps forward and all at once Lisette calculated the mare was blocking, nearly, the gnome’s line of fire at Ashur.
Without thought or hesitation Lisette rammed the knife in to the hilt in the tall man’s upper arm. His pain and rage were a palatable thing as she felt him stiffen. He tried to push the injector home against her neck but she forced herself away from it as hard as she could.
In those same scant seconds Ashur dived for the ground, groping for the weapon he’d thrown. The short one fired but that blessedly pesky mare got in the way again and he winged her on the foreleg. The mare shrieked. The stallion answered and Ashur heard the pounding of the beast’s hooves on the turf. He’d pulled that poor pinion loose and was racing toward the injured mare.
Ashur seized his weapon, rolled and fired, taking no time for niceties of settings or aim. The beam grazed the short one, sending him twitching to the ground. Ashur aimed more carefully and finished him off.
Turning his attention to the other, he dreaded looking to see Lisette’s body crumpled on the ground. Instead he saw Lisette standing by the roan mare, stroking her muzzle and comforting her while Ashur’s brazen white stallion reared up over and over on his hind legs, stamping down with his full weight on the tall Capellan.
Ashur ran toward them, leaping the stream easily. He caught the stallion’s reins, calling soothing things to the enraged animal as he did. Eyes still rolling wildly, the stallion ceased his battering of the man and stood by Ashur, trembling.
"Good boy," Ashur told the horse. "Good Barton."
He pushed on the white stallion’s neck, urging him away toward the mare. Barton splashed through the stream to the mare’s side. Resting his massive head across the mare’s back, she reached back to nuzzle him. Ashur saw Lisette smile at the exchange of horse affection.
"Lisette?" Ashur said urgently.
She turned to him with a wistful smile. "I’m fine, Ashur. He only hurt me but a little."
Ashur’s face darkened. "Any hurt to you is too much." He held out his hand and helped her leap back over the stream to his side of it. She stumbled on landing and he caught her in his arms. Brushing back her thick hair, he felt the tremble in her body that she tried to hide with bravado. He didn’t think he could possibly love her more than the moment they’d made love to each other and yet here again was the staggering realization that his love for Lisette had grown again stronger and stronger.
Pushing Lisette back from him, but still holding her in his arms, Ashur examined her closely. The illness again had hold of her, that he could see. All these exertions, held at bay by the general medtabs, couldn’t be helping her. He stroked her silky smooth neck but saw no trace of discoloring where the belladonna in the injector might have touched her.
"My plan was not so good a thing after all," she said faintly. "It was like to have gotten you killed. I couldn’t have borne that."
Ashur lightly kissed her trembling lips. "It didn’t. You’re brave and beautiful and I love you more than all the stars in heaven."
A moan drew their attention.
"He still lives," Lisette murmured as they moved to stand over the trodden Capellan.
The man’s eyes glared up at them, still filled with hatred and evil. He tried to move his broken body, tried to reach with his bloody arm, dagger still buried in it, toward the injector. He tried to speak but only gurgled. A trickle of blood ran from the corner of his mouth.
"He could take hours to die," Ashur said.
Lisette nodded approvingly. "Hours he’s well earned."
Ashur glanced at her then at the crumpled shape on the ground. "None ought to suffer so." Releasing Lisette he picked up the injector, placed it on the man’s exposed hand and pressed the activator.
Lisette opened her eyes to the glorious canopy of the firmament spread above her. She sighed contentedly and snuggled back in the comforting arms that held her. The soft crackle of a fire and the sounds of the horses grazing came to her ears entwined with the harmonies of the night, the whispering breeze and low hoots of a distant owl.
"You’re feeling better?" the low, melodious tones of the most beloved voice in the world asked her.
"Ummmm… I feel wonderful," she murmured.
"You’ve had a good long sleep," he said, "and Baby says that combination of the medicines worked. You should be well again."
After a long silence she asked, "Which star is that of your home?"
Ashur shifted a touch beneath her. "Look there," he said. "Toward the west. West of where Capella just slipped below the horizon, where it still burns and lives…" Lisette squeezed his hand gently. "…Past Castor and Pollux in Gemini, past Cancer, toward Regulus in Leo… there, in that patch of sky, so distant you can’t see it from here, is the star of my home world."
Lisette chuckled softly. "Of all the western stars, I chose to wish upon one I can’t even see."
They watched the stars for a time, watching the hours slip away as the heavens turned and stars slipped below the horizon while others rose. Cradled in each others arms with pure non-physical love stronger than passion radiating between them, they held each other through the hours they both knew were their last together. Soon Lisette would have to return to Geraint and her life, and Ashur would be returning to his. The tracker the two Capellans had would lead him to their ship, and the ship, then, to his home.
"A thousand years and a thousand light years away," Lisette whispered, her voice barely audible above the breeze through the grasses. "Has any love borne so great a breach."
Ashur’s arms tightened around her. His breath caressed her cheek, then his lips a feather touch upon her.
"Would that this night could never end."
The moon, round and lustrous, rose at what Lisette judged to be midnight. The meadows around them transformed into a silvery sea. Slowly, without speaking, they gathered their belongings and mounted the horses, riding side by side toward the south.
They left the horses tethered in the trees in the little clearing where Lisette had gone for her picnic. How long ago that day seemed, Ashur thought. Again they held hands as they made their way along the path toward the stone cottage. They stopped at the fence and surveyed the cottage and grounds.
The cottage was quiet. There was no trace of the mob that had pounded on the door only one night before. Lights burned in several windows, far more than ought to be lit at this time of night.
With a squeeze of hands, Ashur helped Lisette across the fence. They crept toward the cottage, moving slowly toward the corner. At the kitchen door, Lisette lifted the latch as quietly as possible. The kitchen was lit by several candles and a low fire. Over the fire bubbled a small pot. The smell from the pot reached them. Ashur choked.
"It smells like Lady Stafford is here," he whispered in strangled tones.
"Sssshhh."
Lisette led the way into the room, mindful of the places where the floorboards creaked, leading Ashur around them. They had to go through the front room to reach the stairs. In the parlor beyond Lisette was startled by sounds. Peeking through the doorway she saw Henry Stafford dozing by the fire, snoring. She eased the parlor door partway closed and motioned Ashur to follow her up the stairs.
The upper corridor was dark, but with the moonlight streaming through the windows at the far end of the hallway. She found her way to Geraint’s door. Ashur’s presence close behind her, carrying the supply of medicines that would cure Geraint, was a comfort as she hesitated, resting her hand on the latch.
Summoning her courage, she turned the latch and pushed open the door. Her eyes fixed on Geraint, lying on the bed looking as near to death as one can and still breath. Visions of Alyce in her last day swept over her and Lisette felt faint. Ashur’s hand on her back, solid and reassuring, brought strength to her. Stepping into the room, followed by Ashur, Lisette went to her husband’s side.
With a disgusted glance at the dirty cups and goblets beside the bed, and the wine in a flask, Lisette held out her hand to Ashur for a container of pure water from the future. Into it he poured the powdered mixture they’d made of the ingredients Baby had instructed them to combine. She stirred it with her finger and touched her wet finger to Geraint’s dry, cracked lips.
Geraint opened his eyes, focusing first on Ashur, then shifting to Lisette. His eyes were too bright with fever. She laid a hand upon his forehead, feeling the heat burning there.
"Geraint, my husband, you must drink this. It will make you well." Lisette held the container to his lips, raising his head with her other hand.
He pushed away, moaning. "No. No more toads."
A snorted laugh from Ashur earned a quick glare from Lisette.
"It’s not toads, Geraint. It’s a real medicine that Ashur had from… from his lands. I’d gone to bring it back, to make you well again," she said soothingly.
Geraint shook his head. "They said you were a witch. I ordered them away. And my father came and punished them. That highwaymen’s trollop got away though. They’ll dare not say that of you again." His voice lowered conspiratorially. "But I saw. I saw you summon Ashur’s spirit." He glanced at Ashur standing silently over the bed. "I fell ill at once. I prayed. I prayed because I knew it wasn’t you who summoned the vision, but I. It was punishment for my ill treatment of you."
He grasped her hand suddenly, with a strength than astounded her. "Forgive me. Forgive me for wronging you so. I’ve confessed and done what I can to make amends. I am sorry, dear Lisette." He slumped back, releasing her hand.
With a confused glance at Ashur, Lisette murmured to Geraint. "I forgive you. Now drink this and all will be well again."
Meeting her eyes he said dully, "You love him, don’t you?"
Lisette hesitated. "Yes," she said simply. "Now drink."
Obediently Geraint drank the life-saving twenty-sixth century medicines. Lisette laid his head back on the pillows. Geraint appeared to fall asleep, but she could see his color improving and hear his breathing ease.
"He’ll be all right now," Ashur said. "And it sounds like you will be as well."
Lisette nodded. She couldn’t speak. The moment had come for their parting and she couldn’t bear it. She wanted to fling herself into Ashur’s arms, to cry and beg him to take her with him, to plead with him to stay. She wanted time to stop, to turn back, to serve her will, not continue on its cruel, unchangeable course.
Ashur reached to hand her the bag of medicines. They’d mixed more but there wasn’t enough to stop this one of many epidemics that would sweep the sixteenth century land, but it might save Lisette’s family. Perhaps when he got home, and things were more normal there in the aftermath of the war, he’d be able to do a proper search and find a trace of Lisette and her descendants in the histories. Maybe he’d be able to find at least a hint that she’d lived and flourished and had at least a semblance of a happy life with love and children.
"You needn’t hurry now," she said in a voice choked with emotion. "You could stay for a few days, a week…"
Catching her fine, small hand he pressed it tightly to his lips. He let go and stepped away from her. "I’ll stay by my ship for a few days, just in case you need more help. But… it’s best if I go quickly."
His last glimpse of Lisette was of her in the candlelight, her eyes glistening.
"I love you, Lisette," he said and quickly closed the door.
Of All the Western Stars by Deb Houdek Rule ...a science fiction romance novel with 37 chapters |
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