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45: The Desperate
"Who are you guys?! Where are you taking me? What have you done to Eliora?!" the questions all tumbled out of Constance's mouth at once as she tried to make sense of what had happened. Since she couldn't see anything other than the inside of a blindfold, she had to rely on her hearing to assess her mysterious attackers, and even though she was bound at the wrists, her spunk was not diminished in the least.
"Be quiet!" one of the guards shot back at her, "We didn't come on this mission to babysit some loud-mouthed kid."
"I'm not a kid!" she retorted in the same tone.
Uproarious laughter filled the room. It sounded to Constance as though there were at least six, if not more, men guarding her. They didn't seem particularly threatening – at least not yet – but they weren't playing any games either. If she was to find some way to escape, she would have to play the hand she had been dealt very carefully.
"Oh, excuse me." the one who'd called her a child said mockingly, "I meant, 'Your Highness.'"
At this, Constance's eyes grew wide, an expression she was happy that her keepers had not clearly seen because of the blindfold. "'Your Highness'?" she asked, genuinely confused.
"Yes, of course! How could we have been so rude?" another guard mocked, "Why, she is a princess after all."
Constance's heart jumped. What were they talking about? Were they serious at all? She wasn't a princess. She didn't even have a distant relationship to anyone who might have been considered royal at all. Or... did she? Suddenly doubts began to rise up in her mind as she remembered something from a long time ago – something about her father that had never occurred to her before. Her father's name was 'Zordar,' that much she'd always known, but once... Once she'd heard a servant address him as... "Prince Zordar."
Realizing that her parentage might just cost her her life, she began to desperately try to get out of the predicament she was now mired in.
"A princess? But I'm not anything of the sort." she protested. "My mother worked on a freighter after my father abandoned us. Why would you ever say I'm a princess?"
Constance turned her head this way and that, hoping that some light might pierce the dark veil over her eyes so that she might see at least a glimpse of where she was. She suddenly felt cold.
"Oh, but you are a princess, my child." a low female voice replied, "What surname shall we call you by?"
Constance hesitated for a long moment, unsure of what to say to this new stranger. Had she just appeared? Or had she been there the whole time? Constance hadn't heard her laughing with the men. Who was this woman anyway and why did she want to know Constance's surname of all things? Finally, remembering the answer her mother had once told her, the young woman answered, "Mariposa."
"Ah, a delicate name for a lovely child." the woman's voice grew strange and suddenly Constance sensed someone coming close to her. She tried to shy away, but discovered that her bonds were secured to something that wouldn't allow her to move more than a few inches in any direction. Then she felt something thump lightly against her forehead. The sensation occurred twice more before she realized that it was gem from the Iscandari crown that Eliora had given her just before the attackers had shot the woman down.
A tear slowly traced its way down Constance's cheek and would have fallen to the floor if it hadn't been caught by the blindfold.
"Murderers and thieves!" she wanted to scream at them all, "You steal me away for no reason and shoot an unarmed woman to do it! You're despicable – monstrous –" suddenly the last word of her thoughts spilled unwittingly from her mouth, "shêd-spawn!"
"My, oh my, we do have a temper, don't we," the woman tsked at Constance, "Name-calling is quite beneath you, Princess Mariposa."
"I am not a princess! How many times do I have to tell you?!" the girl bellowed in the face of whoever the woman was who was standing before her.
The strange woman laughed, her tone sending icy fingers of fear deep into Constance's innocent heart. "But, Mariposa, you are."
The woman peeled back the blindfold to reveal a face that Constance had only ever seen once before, many years ago, aboard Gatlantis.
"I'm going after her." Dara's firm voice echoed through the space between Garen and Constance's mother. "I've lost too much already to lose the only thing that's kept me going for most of my life."
Garen stood stunned. He'd expected a sobbing woman about to break down in panic, but instead he'd returned to this steadfast bastion of determination. Instances like this just served to show him how far apart he and Dara had become over the past few short weeks and months.
"Then I'm going with you." he replied.
"No, Garen, they need you here." Dara replied, "I can go alone. I'm fully capable."
"I know you are." Garen said, trying to dispel some of the tension he could sense building between them, "Constance may not be my daughter, but she is my friend."
"No." Dara replied firmly, "It's settled. You aren't going. Stay and help Gamilon. She needs you more than I do right now."
Garen was a bit taken aback by the harsh words, until he saw just the faintest hint of sadness in Dara's face. Then he understood what she'd really meant. As the foremost expert on the type of crisis Gamilon was going through, Dara knew that it would be best for Gamilon and its people if he stayed to help them.
Garen gritted his teeth and looked down, his jaw finally clenching tightly shut for a long moment before he grudgingly said, "Alright... I'll stay..."
As soon as he said it, he regretted it, but there was no taking it back now.
Dara nodded, "Thank you, Garen." she turned to go, but stopped and looked back over her shoulder at him, and gave him just the faintest of smiles, "Thanks for the adventure. Take me on another one someday."
"I will." Garen promised as his heart lurched, "Bring her back, Dara."
The woman nodded, then turned away again and left quickly, heading to Eliora's emergency care room to say good-bye to her before she left. She never looked back a second time.
Dara walked into the sick-room only to see that Desslok had gotten here before her.
"How is she?" she quietly asked the younger man.
"Not well." he answered. "I've only just arrived myself."
"You know about... Constance..." she said, her voice still low.
"Indeed," the Leader said, his face downcast, both at the news and Eliora's dangerously ill health. "We will send out the best trackers we have to hunt down however took her and –"
Dara held up a hand to stop him, "There is no need." she said, "I am going after her."
The Leader tried to protest, but against Dara'a iron will – one just as hard and stubborn as his own – he gained no ground. "Very well..." he finally relented, "But keep us appraised of your situation. If you ever find yourself in need of anything. It will be given to you. All you need do is ask."
Dara nodded, "Thank you..." Then, turning her gaze to the bed-ridden woman she said, "I have to talk to her before I go."
The Leader nodded, "I came to speak with her as well."
"Will she wake up?" Dara asked.
"That we will not know until we try to wake her." Desslok replied.
Dara nodded and bid them man to try to bring the woman back to consciousness.
"Eliora?" Desslok placed a gloved hand on the woman's shoulder to try to rouse her from her uneasy sleep, all the while noting her vital signs, displayed on the other side of her bed. "We've returned from Iscandar. And Dara has come to bid farewell."
The woman stirred and her eyes slowly fluttered part-way open. Her heart rate spiked a little, then returned to normal and even slowed down a bit once she saw who had come to see her.
"S-Sire! Dara..." she rasped as loudly as she could when she realized who had come to her bedside. "I am... sorry... I couldn't –"
The young Leader stopped her, "You've no need to apologize for anything, Eliora. You couldn't have known."
"Yes, please don't blame yourself," Dara knelt down beside the bed and grasped the woman's hand. "From the look of the security videos, you may well have saved her life."
"But I should have heard... should have heard... She isn't safe... not safe...the Bolars..." her voice trailed off and a glazed expression took over her face for a moment.
The sudden change sent a bolt of unfamiliar panic through the Leader, "Eliora? Eliora, stop. You'll not be dying today." he said firmly, shaking the woman back out of her semi-conscious state.
"Sire... Dara... I am sorry... so sorry..." she repeated.
"No, Eliora. You have no blame in this. We know the Bolar Federation had a hand in this, and the ones who've taken Constance will be hunted down and found. She will be returned to us." Desslok said with as much assurance as he could muster.
"Yes, that is why I'm here. I have to leave to fetch her back." Dara supplemented, "I will find her abductors and bring them to justice."
"Your mother... She knew you would be great someday..." Eliora suddenly diverged from the subject at hand, "She knew... she knew..." the woman reached out feebly and patted Desslok's hand, which he was too anxious to be uncomfortable with, "She wants to see you again one day..." then the woman's gaze shifted to Dara and a look of recognition suddenly lit up her face as she said, "Yes, I know she does..." the vacant look began to creep over Eliora's features again, but this time she continued to speak, "Adonai bless you... keep you... His face shine upon you... have... peace..."
"Eliora?" Desslok raised his voice and tried to shake the woman out of her dazed state once again, but no matter what he did this time, he could not. He immediately called for the physician, knowing that, if help did not come, Eliora's end was at hand.
"A Star... of Yisrael... Man of... Sorrows... Adonai's Lamb..." the woman's words seemed to all run together to Desslok and Dara, making little sense to her and no sense to him.
"Eliora, what are you talking about?" Desslok tried to get her attention again, but with every second the woman's face seemed to grow more and more distant.
Where was the physician?!
Suddenly Eliora's face seemed to light up again and her two attendants thought she might be returning to them, but then she said, "He comes for me... to take me home..."
Just as the physician rushed through the door, Eliora let out her last breath, a look of pure joy on her face.
Dara clung tightly to Eliora's lifeless hand. She laid her head on the bed and wept unashamedly for the woman who had saved her life on a number of occasions and who she had come to know as her friend over these past many years.
Seeing that the woman's spirit had departed and would never be returned to her lifeless body, Desslok turned his back to the stunned physician.
"Get out!" Desslok growled at the man who'd just entered. "You have no further use here."
The utter rage infused into those few words terrified the doctor who fled the room as he'd been ordered. But just before the door closed behind him, he heard an expression of bitterness that made his own heart ache.
The utter despair in the Leader's sudden outburst made Dara hurt for him. She did not know what burdens he bore from his past, what weights he now carried as Leader that further added to his sorrows, but she knew in that instant that they were many.
Foregoing more time for herself to grieve here beside Eliora's body, Dara stood and offered the Leader her sympathy for their shared grief. Then, in an act of compassion, she left the Leader to grieve alone.
When Dara had gone and some several minutes had passed in silence, Desslok finally said what he could hold in no longer, "You take them all! The ones who cannot defend themselves – the ones who deserved better, who loved, and lived in peace! Not Deun, or that nachash Aurelia, not even that dog the Bolars claim as their Premier! No, no You take the innocent! You prey on the weak! What kind of a Master are You to do such things as You have done?!" the bitter anger rolled out of Desslok in waves. Eliora's passing was the final straw for him. With the death of Sasha, the abduction of Constance, Dara's impending departure, and now Eliora's death... he had finally come to the breaking point.
"I said I would never forgive You if she died," the Leader seethed, "And I never will." You've wronged not only her but all of us by everything You've done these past many years." he laughed mirthlessly, "You allowed us to make it through that nightmare wilderness crossing just to kill off or abduct the best of us. You've no sense of justice – of mercy – of anything but Yourself!" he spat the words towards Heaven, "You killed her," he pointed at Eliora's body, "and You killed her too, just as much as Deun did" he pointed to the blue planet floating in the far window, "And now you take another of our number..." he was silent for a moment, then suddenly he exploded in anger, ramming his fist into the wall, not caring as he left a bloody dent there.
Just then the door opened and Masterson stepped through. The sight he beheld upon his arrival was enough to make him stop midway through the door.
"She's dead." The Leader stated flatly.
Masterson nodded, his face sad, "The physician told me. If I'd known she was so close to death I would have come sooner; we all would have, Elisa, Dommel, Garen, Wolf – everyone. I would have liked to have spoken with her before her time came... But it was not the will of Adonai." Masterson stepped all the way through the door, allowing it to shut them in and containing their conversation within the room.
At the mention of Adonai the Leader noticeably stiffened. Masterson noticed the added tension, but could do nothing to ease it. Finally he decided to ask, "Did she say anything...? Before she died?"
Desslok nodded, "Though it made no sense. Ramblings of some sort – something about a Star, or a Lamb. It was... in-cohesive."
"Perhaps to you, my friend." Masterson acknowledged, then a look of peace spread over his face and he said, "But not to me; and not to Adonai, for it was of Mashiach she spoke."
Suddenly the fire within the Leader's eyes began to blaze brighter and hotter than Masterson had ever seen it before, "Do not speak of Him to me, Talan! He is a callous, unworthy King who rules without thought for the weak, or the innocent."
"But Sire, He is the opposite entirely. He grants mercy to those who do not deserve mercy – compassion for the un-compassionate, love for the unloving –"
"If what you say is true, Talan, then why has He not shown any of these divine qualities you speak of with such confidence? Tell me of one instance where He showed mercy to me – just one instance!"
"Very well." Masterson replied quietly, then reached into his pocket and withdrew something small and cylindrical.
"When did you come into possession of that?" Desslok asked caustically, clearly surprised that Talan possessed the object.
Masterson was quiet for a moment, gauging what would be the best, and wisest answer, then he said, "The day you decided never to remember it again." He held out a viper's rattle, old, worn, as though it had been brought out and handled many hundreds of times. "He showed you mercy that day – as He has shown it to you countless other times, Sire."
Desslok's eyes bored into Masterson's, but the younger man stood firm beneath the overwhelming anger of his Leader.
"This proves nothing!" he growled, "He has some agenda; He's hiding it!"
Masterson nearly laughed aloud when he heard this, and if the situation hadn't been so serious, he might have done just that, "Of course He does, Sire. He is Adonai; His plans are far too wonderful for us to know. He has not hidden them, we merely do not have the eyes to see them."
There was silence in the room. The air was thick with rage. Masterson felt as though it might consume his Leader, and he suddenly feared for him.
"Adonai, he chooses to reject what You have done for him; what am I to do but continue to remind him that You have never forsaken us, nor acted unjustly?" the prayer for help somehow seemed to settle Masterson's uncertainty, as though merely asking the question had given him the answer he needed.
There was a long pause in their conversation. Both men stood completely still, until Desslok looked away, carefully avoiding the sight of the lifeless Eliora. Finally the Leader asked, "So what did you come here for, Talan?"
Masterson's tension eased a bit, but the anxiety quickly returned when he remembered his message. "Sire, my father needs to speak with you; he, my mother, and Eliora made a discovery of grave importance during our exile."
Desslok's gaze returned to Talan's face and he saw there the seriousness of whatever topic Admiral Talan needed to discuss with him. "Thank you, Talan. I will be there as soon as I am able."
"Thank you, Sir." Masterson nodded, bowed to his ruler and turned to leave.
"Masterson." Desslok's voice stopped him.
"Sir?" Masterson faced the Leader again.
"Do you know a man named 'Arach'?"
"I do not, Sire." Masterson shook his head.
"Thank you, Talan. You may go."
Masterson nodded once again and left, a faint smile slowly spreading over his face as he realized the implications of this "Arach"'s appearance. And suddenly he knew that, though the Leader would not admit it, he did know that he had been shown the mercy of Adonai.