Lycan Alpha Claim 3 (110 page)

CHAPTER 18

President Bowen was as distressed as Bracus over the Princessʼ state, but he was equally interested as to why Bracus would have been in close enough proximity to know that the Princess had been abused.

“I do not have a plausible explanation, but I had a feeling of foreboding...”

“One day past?” President Bowen asked.

Bracus nodded.

Bowen palmed his chin thoughtfully, bringing it over the front of his face and rubbing back and forth in irritation while Bracus waited.

“I cannot dismiss the relevance of that. I remember very well your intuition saving us during the
fragment
conflict.”

The silence drew out.

Finally, Bowen said, “Take half the Band, and extract her.”

Bracus swung around to leave. “Goodman,” Bowen called after him.

Bracus turned, his body illuminated by the early morning light filtering in through the cave's entrance.

“Keep the casualties at zero if you can.”

“Yes, President Bowen.” His chin nearly brushed his sternum in a deep formal nod.

Bracus jogged outside the cave where Matthew waited upon his saddled mount, his eyebrows raised in question.

“He agrees.”

Matthew's shoulders settled into a relieved posture.

“We must gather four members and acquire the Princess.”

“Including us?”

Bracus nodded. “Yes, we must keep a contingent here in our absence. There have been sightings of the
fragment.”

Bracus knew that the
fragment
lurked around the perimeters of the clans, searching for lone females. It would not happen, had not happened during Bracus’s time. He was ever vigilant in securing his clan's safety.

Matthew brought him back from his thoughts. “Let us take our leave and alert the others.”

Bracus mounted his horse, stroking the animal's side. Briar Rose was a fast ride. He felt as if they were of one body.

****

Bracus made careful selections. Philip would accompany him, of course, and Jack would stay with Lillian as he would be too much in his head to fight.

He looked at each of the faces and called out, “Philip, Stephen, Matthew, and Joseph.”

Matthew gave Bracus a hard look. “Captain Goodman, do you think only five is wise? Did the President not say—”

“He did. But,” and Bracus held up a finger, “I am not comfortable leaving the clan with only two of the Band.”

Philip looked sharply at him, his hand shielding the sunlight from his eyes. “Do you have... a...”

“Yes. I am disquieted on both fronts. We need to rescue the Princess and
defend the clan while the majority of the Band is not here.” Bracus looked at each upturned face.

“We mustn’t return to a compromised security. This is the only way I can leave and have my heart stay within my breastbone.”

The Band laid their fists over their own hearts, and Bracus was moved by their loyalty.

He dismounted, and a lad of about ten and three years took Briar Rose. Bracus spoke to the boy. “Please give her the oats and only one cube of sugar else you will rot her teeth out of her head!” He smiled to soften the admonition. That boy took very good care of his mount, who looked upon him quietly as if she understood she would receive a treat.

He slapped her on her hindquarters, making it a long caress at its end. Briar Rose neighed softly at him as she was led away to the stable.

There was much to do. Bracus gathered up his weapons and a fresh change of tunic for the journey, storing a soft, cotton blanket with a tight weave. What else? Ah! He grabbed his flask, filling it with salt. It would not have done to forget that. That reminded him to go to Evelyn and see how she fared with the hot water.

Bracus approached the cistern. Evelyn gave him her charming smile, her hair tied with a single, blue satin ribbon.

“Captain.” She curtsied.

“Evelyn, how fare you?”

“Very well this day.” She smiled through platinum hair which escaped its binding.

He smiled and held up his flask, which she frowned at. Bracus raised his eyebrows.

“Is it the flask lined with duck?”

He nodded, and she sighed with relief. “Good. This will need to be very hot to dissolve the salt and needs to be shaken about like this,” she mimed twirling the whole lot of it, “to keep the salt from settling at the bottom and hardening like the clay beneath our feet.”

Bracus looked down at the dirt floor of his clan and agreed. It was heavily trod upon and acted almost like the cobblestone paths and roads he had seen.

He grabbed the flask away from her, and she held on, not letting go until he gave her a good tickle. Finally, she surrendered, clutching her ribs and giggling as he captured his prize. It held the key to the penetration of the sphere.

The sphere that held the special female,
his female
his mind whispered. His heart sped in anticipation of rescuing her. For that was what it now was. It was no simple acquisition mission. Not that it ever had been simple. He now had her safety to secure as well. Who preyed upon her? And where were her protectors?

Bracus said goodbye to Evelyn and strode to Briar Rose. The lad, Jonathan, gently held the bridle, mindful of her mouth. Bracus grabbed the reigns, tossing them over her neck. He stuffed one foot in the stirrup and heaved his body on the saddle, settling in comfortably.

The Band looked at Bracus, and he looked at those he left behind. They would be the protectors in their comradesʼ absence. It should be sufficient, he told himself. But his gut churned, and his intuition flared to life, whispering to him it was not a perfect solution.

They nudged their horsesʼ sides, and the great beasts sprang to life, taking the path they had trod so often before. It led outside the clan gates and into the forest.

CHAPTER 19

Clara clutched Sarah in her arms. Neither woman wanted to say goodbye. Finally, Sarah pulled away and looked into Clara's face. “You are doing what is right, Princess.”

“Do not call me thus. I do not deserve the title.”

“Clara, our People do not wish for your death. And that is what this would be if you stayed.” Sarah’s finger traced first Clara's fat lip then the swollen lump that made her eye a fraction of its normal size.

Clara sighed. “I am glad that you think so highly of me. It will take some doing for me to share your esteem.”

“It may not be as long as you think, once things settle here...”

“Or if they do not?” Clara said, anger slipping into her tone.

“We will not revisit this conversation. It is circular, as well you know.”

Clara did.

Charles said, “We must go.”

The women looked at him, sighing. Clara nodded.

Sarah and Charles embraced each other and she said, “Take care of her, Charles.”

He looked insulted. “You know that I will.”

“I must say the words.”

Charles laid his hand on her shoulder, looking down into her earnest face. “I know. We are all on edge. We will see you again sometime.”

“Yes, sometime,” Sarah said sadly.

Clara ran to her again, skirt pouring behind her, all but flinging herself in Sarah's arms. “Do not weep for me. There will not be one day that I do not think of you and all that you have been to me.”

“And I, you,” Sarah said with a voice choked by emotion.

Charles separated them and pulled her out of Sarah's vestibule.

****

Clarence saw Charles's tall form and that of the Princess in her royal attire and fought his emotions. He was the main guard at the intersection of the trade tunnel and their sphere, and he felt derelict in his duties.
Yet, after Charles had explained the Princessʼ plight, he felt honor-bound to assist them.

And as she drew near, the evidence of the violence done to her stood out in stark relief. Her glorious eyes, usually filled with fire and good humor, were now tight with anxiety, and one of them almost swollen shut.
Prince Frederic should be put out of everyone’s misery,
Clarence thought, not for the first time.

“Greetings, Princess.” Clarence bowed low.

“Please Clarence,
Clara
is fine. The Queen is not here to notice.”

Clarence contained his expression of shock as the light grew brighter at this junction of the sphere.

However, Clara noticed some of the dismay he could not contain and self-consciously covered her face in shame with a small hand.

Charles took her hand away. “It is I who should be ashamed that I could not aid you. Not you. Never you.”

“Princess, Frederic is less than a man for having hurt you,” Clarence added.

“I could do nothing, and that is what shames me, not the beating.”

They heard the hissing at the same moment and looked as the tunnel seams released steam to the Outside. That happened at the top of each hour. And sure enough, the time piece that hung, suspended from its copper housing, clanged two chimes, the gears moving almost soundlessly below the crystal.

“The hour draws near for my replacement to relieve me.”

Charles was already searching through his knapsack and finally came out with a small crystal vial with cork for a cap.

The liquid gleamed. Charles also extracted a decanter.

Clarence raised his brows.

“Wine. We shared a glass before you saw us through the first milepost.”

“Clever.”

“I thought so.”

“Oh! You two, you make me nervous. Get on with it.”

They looked at Clara. Her hands were white with tension, their self-congratulation lost in the gravity of the circumstance.

Humor disappearing, Charles solemnly poured a small amount from the wine decanter into a flask and handed it to Clarence, who took it and brought it to his lips, downing all of it.

Giving it back to Charles, he asked, “How long?”

“I do not know, but soon.”

Clarence nodded and sat upon the chair beside the small table. Upon it was the ledger of the comings and goings of all who passed to and from the Kingdom of Ohio.

Clara and Charles stared at Clarence. His eyelids looked heavy. Finally, they drooped closed, and Charles approached him, catching him as he slipped from the chair. “Clarence, Clarence, wake up!”

The twilight drug had worked. Now Clarence was safe from prosecution, the blame placed squarely on their shoulders.

There was no return from their actions.

****

They moved quickly through the tunnel. There would be a rest station only a mile ahead, but Charles wished for distance. They needed to arrive at the least-heavily traveled part of the tunnel, then use the salt mixture to penetrate the sphere wall.

Clara gasped for breath, the clothes she wore a hindrance, the corset constricting her breathing. The crown gleamed like a living thing atop her head.

Charles had stopped to allow a brief rest with water. They guzzled the lot of it like a found mirage in the desert.

“I am so tired,” Clara said, dangerously close to complaining.

“It is not much further, Clara,” Charles replied in a voice calmer than he felt.

He drew her body into the circle of his arms, and she gradually stilled, wrapping her arms around his waist, resting her head on his chest. “Thank you for coming with me. I feel safer with you. And thank you for not hating me.”

Charles pulled back, looking down into her injured face. “I could never hate you. Do not say such. You cannot help who you were born to. We are righting an injustice.”

Charles was not entirely convinced that she believed him.

They replaced the glass bottles of water in the knapsacks. Charles checked his timepiece, thinking that Clarence's replacement would arrive at three o'clock, and they needed to breach the sphere at the same time.

Ten minutes hence.

He grabbed Clara's hand, and they hurried on.

****

Bracus rode hard. The Band flanked him, and Briar Rose was a sleek machine beneath him, her breath labored but steady. As the trees thinned on either side and the path narrowed, Bracus slowed, pressing his thighs gently into her sides. Briar Rose slowed to a trot, then a walk, stopping as the crest of the hill came into view.

The Band dismounted, leading the horses to a small stream flowing along the forest’s border. They drank greedy gulps, their sides heaving from the fifteen-mile ride.

Philip came to stand beside Bracus, putting one hand up to shield his eyes as he looked at the sun, ascertaining its position in the sky. “Mayhap two hours past noon.”

“No, I say near three.” Philip leveled a look at Bracus.

Stephen sighed. “We do not have time for sibling rivalry about the time, Captain.”

Bracus did not need to be reminded of his duties and turned his penetrating stare to Stephen, who threw up his hands and stalked away.

Tempers were short.

Bracus knew much depended on the success of this mission. He sighed, turning to Philip. “We let the horses have their fill and tether them here.” Bracus indicated the pole they had fashioned outside the forest perimeter.

Philip grinned, giving Bracus's shoulder a hard clap.

Matthew approached the pair, his solemn expression unchanged as always. “What is next?”

Bracus outlined the strategy to Joseph, Philip, Matthew, and Stephen. Matthew asked thoughtful questions, but it was Joseph who asked the most intelligent one. “What if she is guarded?”

“We assumed until most recently that she would be under heavy guard because of her stature within the hierarchy of the kingdom. Now, we are not sure what is happening.” Bracus shrugged.

Philip said, “It is best for preparedness. Let us assume that she will be under heavy guard.”

“Our females would be!” Stephen scoffed.

“That is our way, our necessity, but
sphere-dwellers
...” Joseph trailed off with disdain.

“We will have answers soon enough. Let us keep our speculations and curiosities in the back of our minds. We need to be cognizant of the dangers,” Bracus said.

They leaned over the dirt map of approach Bracus had outlined, and then stood, straightening their posture. Philip rotated his massive neck, the muscles bunching and releasing with the movement. Joseph placed one of his hands on the opposite elbow, stretching the arm behind his head, then doing the same for the opposing side.

The Band was restless.

They were ready.