The Other Side – Part 11

Four miles from the Ruins of Foreign Legion Fort Reliance near the deserted town of Balad min Amal [Town of Hope]

Early morning

Raphael’s head hurt, and his hands were shaking as his body reacted to the power it had unleashed earlier that night but his primary concern wasn’t focused on his own aches and pains, but on those of his passengers.

With the adrenalin still pumping through his blood from his victory over the darkness, both internal and contained within the Soulless Ones, he had somehow managed to get Nabil and Dharr into the wagon, but it had taken an interminable amount of precious time.  Both warriors were still recovering from the healing, and he regretted that he had been unable to ease their tremors or offer them more than a few short reassurances that all was well.

Stoically both warriors endured the wild fluctuation of their body temperature as they both huddled on the wagon’s floor, their robes and hair damp from the chilling touch of the undead.  Tina had surprised Raphael with her calm acceptance and soothing demeanor as she took command over Nabil and Dharr’s welfare as he drove the wagon out of the city. And she had graciously covered both warriors with her extra blankets despite their weak protests. 

Eventually, exhaustion won a victory over the need to stay conscious and only when both Nabil and Dharr were asleep did Tina finally question Raphael, her first casually asked question catching him off guard.  She was resting on a small cushion made from his robes and sat near the back of the wagon seat, idly staring at the changing night sky as dawn was slowly approaching. 

“Will they be all right?”

Raphael shifted on the hard wooden seat and clicked encouragingly to the tired horses as he pondered his reply.  Unsure what to say since it would either incriminate or exonerate him, he opted for as few words as possible.  “Eventually, aiwa.”

Tina almost chuckled from the vague answer but she remained undeterred, her journalism business background coming to the surface despite her lengthy absence from it.  “So, do you wish to comment on what happened earlier, or would you like to deny once again that you hold no such power as the Golden Touch?”

“I do not suppose that requesting to remain silent in regards to my battle with the Soulless Ones would be considered?” Raphael asked, feeling defeated that his efforts to remain undetected to Ralon’s wife had failed miserably. 

“I could consider it, but nothing will erase the images from my mind, both horrific and miraculous,” Tina replied with a sigh and shivered from the memories, her hands splaying protectively across her stomach.  “You saved my life,” she added in a whisper.  “They were trying to get to me, but you stopped them. It was the most amazing thing I have ever seen in my life and you are the most…”

“I am only a man.” Raphael stopped Tina’s words with a wave of his hand, embarrassed by her accolades.  “And I reacted to a situation without regard for the consequences.”

“Thank God you reacted because if you hadn’t, I would be dead right now,” Tina argued and waved a hand over the two sleeping warriors. “They would be dead right now, and from what I saw that happened to the other warriors it is a fate I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.”

“I could not save them all,” Raphael whispered, his voice tinged with anguish and regret as he studied his hands that held the reins. 

Six simple words that conveyed to Tina more depth about the healer than any other explanation that Raphael could offer; she allowed the conversation to end for the moment, granting Raphael a slight reprieve from her questions.  But as the wagon neared what appeared to be the ruins of an old fort, she did have to ask one more.

“So how are you going to explain why Nabil and Dharr’s robes are wet?”

~*~

Dawn the next day…

The Guardians Citadel “Il Wasi Qal’a”

Lady Dareejah’s private solarium

Mirrianna Yusriyah wrinkled her nose as the pungent odor from the assassin’s body wafted around her, offending her delicate sensibilities.  She partially covered her face with a small veil and glared at the other young woman who seemed to be oblivious regarding her current state of cleanliness.  “You could have at least washed the filth from your body before presenting yourself to my lady,” she firmly stated as she hovered over Dareejah’s inert body in the huge bed.  She even fanned her veil slightly when the smell grew too strong, glaring at the other woman.

Khori blinked and then did something she had rarely done over the past several years of her life-she smiled.  It started out as a small, self conscious grin but it gradually grew into a full smile as the absurdity of the current situation seemed quite amusing.  “Your lady isn’t aware of anything at the moment, least of all how I smell.  And besides, my lady had requested that I immediately present myself with any news, so…” Khori’s dark eyes twinkled with mirth.  “I bring news.”

“You stink like a pig,” Mirrianna snapped and began to vigorously fan her veil. 

Khori placed her hands on her hips as her dark gaze raked over the handmaiden’s perfectly clothed, perfumed, and coiffed appearance.  “You should experience what a warrior smells like,” she murmured coyly and smirked at the other woman. “ It’s a heady mixture of spices, of orange and mint, and when you’re so close you can smell…” Khori paused dramatically and then continued with a devilish glint in her eyes.  “Obviously I was so overcome with my enthusiasm for a task completed that I neglected my personal needs in my haste to come here. Surely you understand, since you are always trying to appease our dear lady Dareejah.”

Mirrianna haughtily gazed at the assassin over one shoulder as she glided over to a small table for a jar of healing ointment.  ”What I do is not a concern of yours, and if you wish to stay gainfully employed by the lady, you would do well to remember this,” she said as she walked back to the platform, her dark eyes snapping with anger.  “I am Medjai - you are not.  You are in my land, my kingdom and have to obey my lady until you have outlived your usefulness.  Continue to speak so disrespectfully to me, and I shall personally see to it that your little contract with Dareejah is prematurely terminated.”

Khori arched an eyebrow at the little handmaiden’s outburst, and she took a step closer, staring at her prey with the unblinking eye of a predator.  “Choose your words carefully, bouchen [bitch], for they may be your last,” she stated softly as her hand came to rest on the hilt of her short sword.

“You do not frighten me,” Mirrianna said with a toss of her head in a show of bravado. 

Khori leaned close as a cold and merciless smile crept across her face.  “Liar,” she whispered, drawing out the word and she watched with an odd sense of satisfaction when Mirrianna’s eyes widened in alarm.  “Now be a good handmaiden and when our dear lady awakens from her slumber, please inform her that I wish to see her. Meanwhile, I am going to take the liberty of using the adjacent bathing quarters that I have heard so much about.  Apparently I am in need of a bath.”

Khori smiled for the second time that day when she heard the other woman sputtering as she walked away. 

~*~  

Early morning hours of the same day

Ruins of Foreign Legion Fort Reliance

Soldiers quarters – south wing

They were suffering…and he could feel every wave of agony that rolled off their glistening bodies as they writhed on the pallets in front of him.

They were warriors…but because of the poison ravaging their bodies, they had been reduced to pale shadows of their former selves. 

They were dying…and the other warriors present in the room now looked to him with clear expectations thanks to the astonishing reports made by Lady Bay, Nabil, and Dharr about his heroic actions the night before.

They were in need of him…and Raphael pushed aside his own exhaustion, his lack of confidence in his ability, and the overwhelming need to flee, to run away as far and as fast as he could, away from all that was anticipated of him, and demanded of him…until there was no strength left in his body or legs.  And then he could finally collapse into the waiting arms of sweet oblivion, and dream of a time when all that was required of him to heal was to use the more conventional methods and practices.

“Are you certain you wish to do this, Healer?”

Kedar’s deep voice pulled Raphael from his thoughts and he glanced up, noting that the usually forbidding looking warrior’s expression had drastically changed, his dark gaze focused on his best friend’s battle to live.   Sympathy for Kedar’s obvious suffering prompted Raphael to place a comforting hand on the warrior’s broad shoulder.  “La, but I am left with little choice in this matter, am I not?” he replied softly. 

Kedar’s gaze reluctantly swung from the pallets to the healer, and he studied the other man for a few moments in silence, noting the deep lines of fatigue in Raphael’s face.  “There is always a choice, but the repercussions of our actions are often judged not by others but by our heart,” he stated quietly.  “What does your heart say?”

Raphael sighed and threaded his fingers through his tousled hair, briefly closing his eyes in surrender.  He leaned his head back for a moment and took a deep breath, already focusing on the power that dwelt deeply within him.  He knew the answer…he couldn’t walk away and leave his king to die a horrible death…he had to do what he believed Allah had intended for him to do with his gift…he would heal those in dire need. He would fight the darkness and death, and he would be triumphant.  “My heart is eager to do battle, although my body requires rest,” he said and looked at Kedar as a faint smile danced across his face.  “If I knew how to do one, I would even give a battle cry, although it may come out sounding rather ineffective.”

Despite the present circumstances, Kedar chuckled and slapped Raphael’s shoulder, almost knocking the other man over.  “Leave the bellowing and battle cries to me, and just concentrate on doing what you can for them,” he said. 

“How? How did they manage to live for so long?  If I recall correctly from what you told me, the poison they ingested should have killed them days ago and yet…” Raphael’s voice trailed off as he flexed his hands and rolled his shoulders in an attempt to relieve the tension. 

“Ardeth and I had previously discussed the possible scenarios that might occur, and he was concerned that Dareejah would try something devious the night of her dinner party.  With Ralon’s knowledge and consent, he consulted with several healers prior to that day to procure his own weapon of sorts – an antidote.  Preceding the dinner, they met in Ardeth’s chambers and consumed what they had hoped would save them, a great risk considering they were not certain as to what type of poison Dareejah would use.  It appears that Ardeth’s choice was the correct one, or else he and Ralon would both be resting in the Bay family crypt right now,” Kedar replied. 

“The antidote has been fighting the poison but the dosage both he and Ralon consumed has not been enough,” Raphael surmised.

Kedar stopped Raphael from approaching the pallets just as Jericho appeared by his side.  “Are you certain you can heal them?” he had to ask, his voice hoarse from the deep ache within his heart that in the end, he could still lose the man he loved like a brother – Ardeth. 

Raphael’s gaze skimmed from Kedar’s face, the worried expression on Jericho’s face, and then he turned to face the warriors, his faltering courage suddenly strengthening with each passing moment; they believed in him. All he had to do was believe in himself.  “I will do what I must, but I cannot do this alone.” He addressed the room as he walked over to the pallets.  “I will need your assistance.”

“You only have to tell us what you require, and it will be done, Healer,” a warrior in the back earnestly spoke up.

Raphael had to wait for the loud chorus of agreements to die down before he could reply.  “That is good,” he said with a slight smile as he stood between the pallets, and knelt down so he could touch Ardeth and Ralon.  “I need your faith and your prayers.  I need for you to believe in me…and I will need someone to catch me when this is over, for I will not have the power to remain conscious for very long.”

“I will take care of you, healer,” Nabil said as he appeared behind Raphael, and he was joined by Dharr moments later.  He was once again fit and healthy, all signs of the touch of the Soulless Ones cleansed from his body from the healing.

“We can do no less,” Dharr added as he stood next to Nabil, his sherry colored gaze intently focused on what Raphael was about to perform.

Raphael turned around and flashed both warriors a grateful smile as he slowly summoned his powers; he felt his heartbeat skip and then quicken, felt the blood rush through his veins, and for a few glorious moments he felt powerful…invincible.   He lowered his head as his hands grew warm while the power surged forward, and moments later it arced out from his fingers like jagged bolts of lightening.  “Then I shall begin,” Raphael spoke, his voice several octaves lower as his eyes burned golden in color.  He raised his head and gently placed his hands on each warrior’s forehead as the Golden Touch poured from his body in brilliant waves of light. 

Entranced, he let the power wash over Ardeth and Ralon, and it caressed their bodies like gentle waves lapping at the beach.  His eyes slid shut when he felt the first taint of the poison destroying their bodies, and it felt like a dark, seething mass of evil.  Like a warrior, he clenched his jaw and waded into battle as the first lines of strain appeared on his face, unaware of the reaction of those around him.

~*~

Kedar blinked as a bright flash of light filled the room, and he shaded his eyes with his forearm, struggling to see Ardeth and Ralon through the radiant glare.  When Raphael faltered for a moment, he almost gave into the need to bellow his fury, fighting to keep his temper under control. 

But his anger wasn’t directed at Raphael. 

Kedar considered the healer’s timely arrival a miracle since he saved the lives of Nabil and Dharr before vanquishing the Soulless Ones.  No, his fury was directed at those responsible, namely Lady Dareejah, and if he caved into appeasing that rage, he would be a bringer of death, plummeting his city into a bloody civil war.  Since various Helper Sects still inhabited the city, large and formidable contingents of men were now under her control and if the Warrior Sect gave the call to arms, the streets of the city would run red with blood. 

All that Kedar was, and believed in, danced on the edge between redemption and extinction.  And for a competent warrior such as the commander, facing the possibility of losing his loved ones and the world he has known was extremely unnerving. 

“Was it wise to use Raphael’s ability while his mastering of it is still in its infancy?” Jericho leaned over and asked as the healing continued.  He brought up one hand to deflect another burst of light and swore softly in amazement when he saw that it was now cradling Ardeth and Ralon in its glow.

“The village seers would probably proclaim that this was all meant to be,” Kedar growled and he glanced at Jericho.  “I say they only tell us the possibilities of our future; we can control the outcome. And if using his power tips the scales in our favor, then so be it.”

“Agreed,” came Jericho’s terse reply just as the other warriors began shouting encouragement for Raphael to continue.  He continued watching and softly added his own encouragement, feeling indebted to Raphael for saving Dharr. 

The healer’s head had sunk down, his chin resting on his chest as the room grew impossibly brighter and Kedar added his own encouragement, believing that Raphael needed to hear it coming from especially him.  “Save them, Raphael, that is all I will ever ask of you.  Save them both…I beg of you, ajab,” Kedar chose to whisper instead.   

~*~

Tina leaned against the doorway, and cradled her protruding stomach as the tears rolled down her face.  She refused to wipe them away, just as she had refused to rest, and had snuck away from her pallet and guard in the other room in order to be near her husband.  She had secretly witnessed the emotional moments prior to the healing, and resisted the urge to throw herself on Raphael’s mercy, begging him to save Ralon.  Kedar’s reasoning and unfailing devotion to Ardeth had more than adequately done the job, and once this was over, she was going to give the sweet warrior a kiss on the cheek. 

“You’re doing it, Raphael.  Oh I knew you could,” Tina whispered when the healing reached its amazing crescendo.  As if in response, her son suddenly gave several healthy kicks and Tina couldn’t help it – she was giddy with relief because she saw Ralon’s twisting body begin to relax as he breathed normally; she started laughing.

~*~

Raphael’s battle to withdraw his power was a surprisingly easy one, and once the light receded, he sagged to his knees from exhaustion. Strong arms were immediately there to catch him and as he felt his body being carried through the air, he asked in a raspy voice, “Are…they…?”

Laughter…the happy sound of laughter echoed through the room and Raphael tried to stay awake to see who was laughing, but the victor in this battle was the consuming need for sleep.  As his eyes fluttered shut, it seemed his heart had joined the joviality and a soft smile blossomed across his face.

“Rest easy, Raphael,” Nabil said as he and Dharr gently laid the healer on a nearby pallet.  While they arranged him in a more comfortable position, Berin appeared like a silent sentinel and covered the sleeping man with a small blanket.

Nabil and Dharr exchanged surprised glances but both of them stepped back as Berin finished tucking Raphael into the pallet as if he were but a child.  Nabil knew that almost losing him as a friend and blood brother, along with Dharr, had brought about some changes in Berin and the massive warrior had finally confessed them earlier that morning.

Berin had been given a brief but startling glimpse of what a possible future could be like without his blood brother.  And he had quietly confided to Nabil that he was determined to be more open and responsive to others, rather than aloof and unapproachable.  As the morning progressed, Nabil had learned from other warriors that it had been Berin who had orchestrated the exodus to the fort, overseeing all the numerous details with surprising ease.

Others commented to Nabil that Berin’s rarely displayed wisdom and wit had been welcomed by the younger, less experienced warriors, and embraced by the older ones.  And although Berin’s elevated status within the Warrior Sect had made him uneasy, he had made it clear to Nabil that he still favored the company of those who knew him best.

Perhaps it was the fact that Nabil was alive, and healthy, as well as Dharr that prompted Berin to do it…or perhaps it Kedar bending down next to Ardeth’s side, and grasping the hand of his friend as some of the other warriors crowded around him…or maybe it was the question and Ralon’s faint answer that moved him to react.

“Who in the name of Allah is laughing?” a warrior asked.

“That…would be…my wife…” Ralon replied in a husky voice.  He grunted in surprise moments later when Tina appeared by his side, and tried to hug him, despite her obvious girth.  He improvised, although still weak, and gave a shuddering sigh of relief when she gave him a light kiss on the lips.  She was in his arms, whispering her love and of course, still giggling in between sentences - for Ralon, this was paradise. 

After watching Ralon and his wife for a moment with an unreadable expression on his face, Berin impulsively dragged Nabil and Dharr towards the pallets and in doing so, he brought them all into the circle of brotherhood and camaraderie.   As one the warriors formed a protective ring around their king and his cousin, and as one they looked to Berin for a certain signal…

…and as one, on Berin’s silent command, they all dropped to one knee and paid homage, bowing their heads in respect.

Kedar stood up, tall and imposing, immediately commanding everyone’s attention.  He looked at each warrior with pride and then raised a fist into the air, bellowing, “The King lives! Long live the King! Long live Ralon! Praise be to Allah!”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Other Side – Part 12