DeathWatch II No. 29 – Time To Rest

This is Issue #29 of DeathWatch, Book II: tentatively called Heart Of Ilona, an ongoing Serial. Click that link to go find DeathWatch, the first in the series, or start from the beginning of Book II!

Happy Reading!

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* * *

“Guess we don’t have to kick anyone out,” Sha said, going back to her room to find it empty. She turned around to tell Kieron good night, but when her eyes found his, his had gone glassy and lost.

* * *

At first, he thought it was agony. The heat of it began in his belly and tore up through his chest like the leftover spasms he recognized from being poisoned.

At first, he thought it was pain moving through him, and he tried to speak, but both breath and word were denied him.

He then thought it might be fear; panic should set it, should be what coursed through his veins, pumped by a weakening heart.

Kieron Brody dwelt within the skin of a dying man, sitting behind a desk, and he knew, from the man’s mind, that he was dying at the hand of his daughter, that he was betrayed, that all his machinations and plans were coming to nothing, because that worthless bitch had finally shown her true colors.

He gagged on his own blood, and Kieron could taste it, and that’s when he realized it was not pain and it was not fear.

It was anger.

* * *

“Brody?” Sha whispered, reaching to touch Kieron’s shoulder. “You in there?”

Kieron snapped back to attention, and he moved faster than Sha expected; she felt his hand close around her throat. The venom on his face was shocking, as he leaned in his teeth nearly at her lips as he snarled, “Te stupri cunni.” You stupid cunt.

Sha struggled, bringing her hands up to try to push him away, startled at the rage on his face; it transformed him into something — someone else.

“Te non possunt me occidere,” Kieron snarled, shoving him into her room and closing the door behind them with a kick. You will not kill me. “Erit tibi non,” he growled. You will not. “Non,” he hissed. No.

“Brody!” Sha snapped, and she twisted, pulling him against her shoulder and then kicking him hard in the knee. When he folded, she grabbed his collar, and punched him in the face, once, twice, three times. “Wake up!”

Te non possunt me occidere!” Kieron shouted, his words beginning to slur, blood running from his mouth. He reached for her, grabbing her fist in his hand, twisting, wrenching it fiercely. “Erit tibi NON!”

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK,” Sha shouted, rolling. She moved to pin him, then, and laid atop him, sitting up, moving to kneel on his arms. “Brody! Fuck, Brody!” She punched him again, twice, a third time, no longer trying to hold back the force of her strike. “CADET, THIS IS YOUR MOTHERFUCKING CAPTAIN SPEAKING!”

Just before she struck him the last time, Sha saw the strange hate leave Kieron’s face. His eyes cleared as her fist struck his jaw. Kieron’s head rocked back, it snapped against the floor. His whole body jerked, and he went limp beneath her, pissing himself, drooling blood against the floor.

“Fuck,” Sha panted, sitting back on her haunches. She stared down at Kieron for a moment longer, before she checked for a pulse, and leaned down to see if he was breathing.

A minute more, and he began to rouse, coughing and groaning. “What? Sh–Captain? What happened?” Kieron’s eyes fluttered open, and he tried to sit up.

Sha pulled back, moved to stand, and helped Kieron get to a sitting position. “You weren’t yourself,” she said, panting. “You were some crazyfuckingfaced man screaming at me in Ilonan.”

“Exosus Praedirus Aecus,” Kieron whispered. “His daughter killed him. His anger was so… It was so vast, Captain. I’ve never felt something so immense. I lost myself.”

“Well you damn near lost me, too, Brody,” Sha said, sitting on her bed. “Your dead guy tried to choke me. How’s your head?”

“Everything hurts.”

“Sorry about that.”

“Better me than you,” Kieron said, reaching up to gingerly touch his face. “I think you broke my nose.”

“Pretty sure I did. Want me to set it?”

“Nah. Just gimme a towel,” Kieron said, shaking his head. Once she handed him one, he blew his nose into it, wetly, pressed his fingertips together over the bridge of his nose, slapped his palms together, and drew down. Twice more, and then he hawked and spit, dabbed at his upper lip, and then wiped off his hands with the last bit of the clean part of the towel. He got up, and staggered for the door, turning to say, “I’m… gonna go clean up, then get some sleep.”

“You sure you’re good to go?” Sha wondered, frowning, following after Kieron.

“Good enough.” Kieron’s expression was blank, without sadness or anger, but instead just a heavy resignation.

“Fuck, Brody,” Sha sighed. “If we get out of all of this, you’re getting a fucking promotion just for surviving.”

He shrugged, mismatched eyes looking up at her, and said, “I don’t know as anyone’s getting out of all of this.” He turned to shuffle away, leaning on the hallway wall, moving slowly.

“Change your mind? Want to turn and go?”

Kieron looked back over his shoulder at Sha, his expression almost offended. “Seriously? Just run, and leave her behind? Sha, that’s not anything I’d have expected from you.”

“I didn’t say I’d turn and go with you,” Sha said, her own expression fierce. “You just look beat.” Her dark eyes stayed on Kieron, watching him with concern, and she lingered in her doorway watching him.

“I am beat, Captain. You just beat me,” Kieron snorted, shaking his head. “Now I just need time to rest.”

Sha laughed, nodding at his joke, but the smile on her lips didn’t touch her eyes. She nodded, still watching him, her eyes narrowed, studying his face, and let him go on his way. “Time to rest,” she agreed.

As he walked into his own room, and Sha slipped back into her own, Kieron’s expression shifted to something darker. His eyes were faintly glassy as he as he muttered, “Tempus ad requiem. Et modicum tempus ad meditandum.”

Time to rest. And a little time to think.

* * *

NEXT

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DeathWatch II No. 28 – Do I Have To Repeat Everything I Am Saying?

This is Issue #28 of DeathWatch, Book II: tentatively called Heart Of Ilona, an ongoing Serial. Click that link to go find DeathWatch, the first in the series, or start from the beginning of Book II!

Happy Reading!

PREVIOUS

* * *

Nixus stared at her father, the muscles in her jaw working, an almost smile on her lips.

“What was that?” Exosus hissed. “What did you say to me?”

“Forgive me,” Nixus demurred. “It has been an incredibly stressful time, and I fear my emotions have gotten the better of me.”

“How like a woman,” the man sneered. “I swear upon my blood it’s as though every single one of you is born to give me ire. You never gave me cause to beat it out of you, Nixiana. Even when you insisted on the military before your marriage, in deference to our Prince, you always knew when to kneel — don’t show me now it was all a lie.”

“I swear, my father, I have only ever wanted to bring honor to our family,” Nixus said quietly.

“Good. You can do that by bearing fat sons to your new husband,” he growled. “I’ll be glad when the contract is finished.”

Nixus felt herself nearly vomit in both disgust and fury; how had she ever convinced herself this man was worth obeying? Had he always been this noxious? She gritted her teeth and wondered aloud, “It isn’t yet signed?”

“No, you dumb cow. Do I have to repeat everything I’m saying?” Exosus sighed. “I barely convinced him you were pure, though I imagine after your stint in the military that your cunt’s been well trampled by the cavalry, hmm? You’ll need to do your best to pretend to be unused, Nixiana. Get it stitched perhaps. I don’t care if it housed the whole Legio including your mounts; maybe that’ll have made it easier to bear sons, eh? The papers arrived, and I’m going to write my confirmation, then return them. At that point, I imagine his mother will try to reach yours, for planning the ridiculous feasting parts I’ll have to pay for.” He held out his hand, saying, “Now, pour us another glass, Nixie.”

Nixus flinched, and then laughed at the complete absurdity. She poured another glass, and this time, handed it to her father, watching his adams apple work as he swallowed it down. She poured him another glass, even more full, and the man greedily swallowed it, grinning at her in triumph. She took the empty glass, then, and set it down, looking at it in wonder. “And to think he was sad to have lost your love. Personally,” she said drily,”I imagine I would be thrilled.”

For a moment, there was stunned silence. Exosus stared at Nixus, trying to make certain he’d understood what she’d said. “How dare you,” the withered patriarch snapped. “After all that I have done for you.” He rose from where he sat, but as he stood, Nixus rose, as well, lifting her chin.

He stepped forward, with the assurance of a man who has intimidated everyone, all his life.

He was met with the resistance of a woman who found her own strength, her own command.

He found that he had to lift his eyes to meet hers, and his lip curled in a snarl of fury. “What is the meaning of this, Nixiana? Is it station? Do you think I’m marrying you too low? Is that why you’re throwing this tantrum? You were an outspoken child, but this is–”

Tace, patri,” Nixus said quietly, reaching up a hand and pressing a gloved finger against her father’s lips.

His reaction was swift, and violent. He twisted to grab her by the throat, shifting to dig his thumb against her windpipe. He was surprisingly strong, for an old man.

Her eyes widened as he reached to take a dagger from his belt, saying, “I’ll end this family before I see it twisted into something disgusting.”

Nixus watched her father bring the blade up, to drive it into her belly. He thought to kill her, as he’d tried to kill Coryphaeus so many years ago. She seized the old man’s wrist and twisted out of his grasp, whirling him into hers. The blade was at his throat before he knew what was happening. “So will I,” she growled against his ear. “So will I, father. But the difference between us is I will cut the black heart of it out, so that what is still living, still good, still pure, can flourish.”

She dragged him to the desk and shoved him down in his chair; as he struggled, she tightened her arm around his throat until he reddened, and then finally went limp.

She watched him for a moment, as he lay slumped, unconscious in the chair.

From there, she worked quickly, first finding the documents about the marriage bonds, and then her father’s private stationery, his pens and seals. She was no fine forger, but her father’s writing had never been elegant, and the seal was proof itself.

After the documents were complete, she wrote another note, a longer one, full of words she wanted to hear, things she wished were said. She signed it ‘Exosus’ and she used his personal seal, and left it on the desk in front of him.

After that, she made sure the knife was sharp, and the stroke was clean.

The end was bloody — Exosus would not have cared who was left to find him, would not have taken pains to make it neat.

She left the room with the candles still burning, twisting the handle to engage the lock.

* * *

“Will you be staying for a late meal?” one of the servants asked as she left the wing. “Your mother had hoped–”

“Yes,” Nixus said, nodding. “My father has convinced me of the importance of family. I’m leaving him to his paperwork,” she said, nodding to the uniformed housewoman. She didn’t look back at the door as she headed to the far wing of the house, to see her mother, who was no doubt curled up near the fire with her books and her wine, all at once a prisoner, all at once exactly as she wished to be.

Nixiana Aecus strode into the chambers given to the lady of the house, knelt on the cushions before her, and laid her head in her mother’s lap. “I told the servants I’d stay.”

Venustus Aecus set aside her book and stroked her daughter’s hair. “I told them you would, as well.”

* * *

NEXT

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100 Words: Sudden

“Why’s it gotta be running?” she panted. “God, why’s it always fucking running,” she panted, her expression shifting to look rabid, wild, teeth bared.

She booked down the street, spinning around the corner, fingertips gripping the brick, turning her sharply.

Thump thump thump went her boots on the pavement.

“Clang clang clang went the trolley,” she spat, half-laughing. She swung around another corner, never seeing the thing that connected with her face; she was turning to look behind.

It never occurred to her someone would be ahead.

“Ring ring ring went the bell,” finished the woman holding the Louisville slugger.

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100 Words: Pick Up

She staggers down the alleyway, hands half-clawing at the bricks, as though the wall we’re a sturdy set of hands to catch her. Bloody-eyed, bloody-lipped, she twists, gagging up the last few hours’ of memories, pressing her back to the brick, then her hands to her knees.

Everything spins.

Nothing makes sense.

She drops to her knees, digging out her phone, and struggles to dial a number she’s not sure anyone will answer. When she hits the asphalt and the phone skitters away, still ringing, shaking hands reach for it, and a shaking voice whispers, “…I need a pick up.”

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DeathWatch II No. 27 – You Will Listen, And You Will Obey

This is Issue #27 of DeathWatch, Book II: tentatively called Heart Of Ilona, an ongoing Serial. Click that link to go find DeathWatch, the first in the series, or start from the beginning of Book II!

Happy Reading!

PREVIOUS

* * *
“The last hunt,” he said. “Did you see it?”

“No,” Nixus murmured. “I was on maneuvers.” It was only a little bit of a lie — she hadn’t seen the hunt, but she also hadn’t been on maneuvers. She looked at him over the back of the curve-backed chaise upon which he rested, and took note of his nearly-empty glass. Plucking it from his hands, she said, “Let me refill that?”

“Pour some for yourself, too Nixie, and come watch.” It was hard, being around her father, who so obviously wanted things to be warm and kind again, but had no idea how to achieve it.

“Yes, Father,” Nixus murmured. She busied herself with the liquor, pouring herself little more than a splash, while she topped off the glass from her father by filling it with the aetheris from the shelf.

Her eyes flicked up to the vid screen of the highlight reel of the Prince’s last hunt. She stood quietly, watching the Prince she swore to obey lay a hand on her brother’s brow, as though in blessing, and then shift to thrust a blade into his chest. Her eyes went wide as she watched Coryphaeus twist just enough to evade the brunt of the blow, going down on his back, pinned, beaten.

She looked at her father’s face as he watched the Prince kneel against Cory’s hips, pulling out a knife and putting it to her brother’s throat. She had heard from others how close her brother had been to death in those moments, but she had not realized the full of it.

She moved to sit down with her father, her face expressionless as she drank when her father drank, stared when he stared, was silent while he was silent.

She watched his expression, so hopeful, so desperate, and her heart felt light to see the need in his eyes as her brother escaped death in that instant.

Her father’s face changed, however, when Coryphaeus whispered forgiveness quietly to the prince; something shaded his eyes, and she could no longer discern the emotion on his face.

“Right there,” her father said, shaking his head, all but spitting his aetheris. “Right there is when your wretch of a sister made certain our name would be forever stained,” he said lowly. “I’ve watched this a thousand times or more. Worthless stain in my line couldn’t even die with dignity. I guess it’s true what they say of twins — you split up what gifts you’ll have while still in the womb, hmm? You were given strength and brilliance, and there must’ve been nothing left for her.”

Nixus frowned slightly, watching the way Immanis pulled a knife and put it to Cory’s throat. She glanced over at her father, but before she could say anything, he laughed cruelly and said, “Don’t worry. I don’t think of you as a thief. Even if you’d left Phaedra anything, she wouldn’t have known what to do with it.”

“You called me,” Nixus said, to keep herself from calling Coryphaeus her brother. To keep herself from saying his name.

“I did,” Exosus Aecus said, turning to look up at Nixus. “I’ve found you a match.”

“What?” Nixus said quietly, feeling her knees weaken, feeling her heart cease to beat and fall, leaden in her chest. “A match? You were looking? I thought–”

“My darling Nixiana,” he sighed, smiling at her in a way that made her heart ache and her throat tighten. By heaven how she hated the sound of that name in his mouth.

“This war — the Northern aggressors will rape and pillage their way through our lands. You’ll be in danger on a battlefield. We both know your brother will never live up to being the rightful heir. I won’t live forever. I won’t have a son to carry on our family name, but I’ll be damned if our blood goes on only in bastards,” he explained, shrugging.

“But I don’t–” Nixus looked shocked; she had no plans to marry, to dress fine, to be a lady and attend court. She had battles to fight and men to lead.

“Hush now,” Exosus said, lifting up his glass. “He is a respected man. He is moneyed, and he will keep you far from the war front. Fill it again.”

“Far from the — no, father, I’m not–” Nixus felt bile in her throat as she took the glass, struggling to figure out a way to escape from this sudden trap.

“Fill it again, Nixiana. You are my daughter. Mine. You will listen, and you will obey.”

Silent, Nixus walked the glass back to the liquor, and poured a generous measure of aetheris into her father’s glass, her head aching, her breathing tight. She thought of the power he held over her, of his say over her future, and the fury in her grew. She stared down at the glass, as though the silver blue liquid within it might be able to tell her something perhaps comforting.

“One of you little whelps must give a legitimate man his due. I couldn’t pay a pauper enough now to bed Phaedra, and even if some drunken beast ruts with her, she’s fallow ground and couldn’t hold an heir,” he grumbled.

Nixus lifted her head and turned to look at her father, at the man whose blood ran in her veins. She tried, terribly hard, to find some measure of love in her heart for him, tried to understand his anger and maleficence toward her brother…

But she couldn’t.

“Give it here,” Exosus said, holding out a shaking hand.

Nixus stared at it, long and hard; the man was older than she’d realized. He’d grown grey and was well past his prime, while she was yet in the height of hers. He was a patriarch of some weight, with many allies, and many who feared him.

She was beginning to realize, however, that she didn’t.

“Give it here, you silly cunt,” he said, waving his hand. “Have you taken too many blows in the head? It’s a good thing I’ve found you a husband before you lose your mind and shame yourself like Phaedra.”

“He’s not fallow,” Nixus said, walking back toward her father, holding the glass in one hand.

“What? What are you talking about? Your match? Heavens no — he’s as virile as they come,” he lauged.

“No. My brother,” Nixus answered.

“Of all the ridiculous things you’ve said –” Exosus sighed. “Mirus was everything but fallow. He’s had how many bastards we’ve had to take in at this point–”

Rather than hand over the glass, Nixus drained the aetheris and closed her eyes briefly, picturing Coryphaeus’s face. She cleared her throat and smacked the glass down on the table near her.

The jolt of noise made her father turn his head toward her, his watery eyes narrowing.

“I’m not talking about Mirus,” Nixus hissed. “I’m talking about Coryphaeus, father. My brother. My twin. Your other son.”

* * *

NEXT

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