The Pain that Made Her Beautiful

PMHB ch26 (Pic of Alan)

CHAPTER 6

After the sobbing had stopped, Warick was able to dry and open his eyes. The evening prior, he had fallen asleep with tears in his eyes. There was nothing for it; he was resigned to sitting and doing nothing, no matter how much he hated it, while unpleasant happenings went on around him. All Warick could do was pray to his god, Tiwaz, and hope desperately for Nayeli’s safety.

Even as he would pray, Warick was unable to sense another party receiving his fervent words. He would pray with his heart, but when he would end, Warick felt as though there was no change, not even one. He was sending his words up, but to where, he did not know. There was no one receiving them, there was no one acknowledging them, and there was no change.

Warick was miserable. He didn’t have any idea how Nayeli was fairing and had heard no news. Then, there was also the fact that no matter how often he prayed, there was never any reassurance that there would be any, if at all, changes in circumstance. Everything seemed so dismal to Warick. There was nothing for him to do with himself as he was locked in a tiny room, with not even one tiny window; all there was, was a single oil lamp that put out a weak amount of light, giving the room an alien look coupled by a darkened mood.

Warick could remember looking back on this time in the room and remembering that it seemed as though the days flowed together and all he could feel was an empty hole in his heart and a complete sadness that he could not melt away.

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Hermun was getting worried now. There was something wrong, and he knew it, but he could do nothing about it. Hermun and his brother weren’t always… were never on good very good terms; however, despite that, he loved and deeply respected his older brother. He and Warick had parted flustered, as usual when he had decided to go without Hermun to receive a parting gift from the Roman. No matter what he had done, more like hadn’t done, he gave Hermun a very bad impression and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up.

He was a cold man, that Apollo. He had no morality, but neither did Hermun. Wait! That’s not the point here! Hermun thought trying to justify himself, the point here is that HE is Roman, and, therefore, has nothing honorable about him.

Hermun was sure that was right. He often struggled with himself about the choices he had made and actions he chosen. Hermun’s philosophy on it was, “I don’t want regrets so, I will do whatever I want, whenever I want, and I don’t care what comes out of it, as long as I like it at the moment.”

He had lived by that everyday of his life, up until now. Warick was gone, and Hermun didn’t know if he would ever be back. He had wish thousands, if not millions, of times for this, but now that it had come to pass, Hermun wasn’t sure that he really wanted his brother gone forever.

Before he had left, Warick had told Hermun to continue on without him, no matter what, and just get home. He had taken Alan with him. When Hermun had asked Warick why he was bringing Alan with him, he just replied, “just in case.”

There was absolutely no sense to his thinking. Warick’s reasoning always managed to escape Hermun. This time, however, he saw it. If any funny business were to take place, Alan would almost completely ensure their safety. He was excellent with, not just the favored German spear, called a framea, but also with a Roman gladius, a bow and arrow, and any other kind of weapon thinkable; it was often said by Hermun’s father that Alan was a natural warrior, which was very true. Warick’s choice to bring Alan was incredibly wise. It would almost completely ensure their escape, was anything to happen, and something had happened, Hermun just didn’t know what.

He wanted to charge back in to the Roman camp and save his older brother, but he had sworn to Warick that he would continue on, no matter what. He had to push on.

It had been two more days and there was no sight of Warick or the rest of the group he had taken to Apollo’s camp. Hermun was getting increasingly unnerved. He knew that he should turn around and retrieve his brother, but, again, the promise he had made got in the way of his decision.

Suddenly, there was a ruckus further back in the procession as the men behind him began to yell and challenge. Then there were loud cheers, Hermun’s nerves relaxed all too soon. As soon as he had heard the cheers, they were immediately followed by confused then accusing shouts and threats.

Hermun turned in his saddle and saw, to his great surprise, Alan galloping with fury toward him. He rode up next to him and Hermun saw that he had accumulated a good-sized cut under his right eye surrounded by a black and blue bruise. He was shaken and looked to have ridden through the night to catch them.

“Speak!” Hermun said urgently.

“They’ve been taken, all of them, Apollo is a lying son of a whore! He is a liar and a vermin! He’s betrayed your brother and you, Hermun. I—“ Alan said, getting interrupted by Hermun.

“What happened? Why?”

“I barely escaped. I know that Warick is not dead. We were walking in to Apollo’s tent and they attacked us. There was only one death, as far as I know, and—“

“Who was it? Speak up man!”

“I just know it wasn’t one of ours. Her name was N-N—“

“Nayeli?” Hermun said. For some reason the thought of her death almost made him smile.

“No, the other one. N-N-N-Neorah! Someone hit her when it all started. I kind of feel sorry for the girl, so young and all.”

“Anyways… why did this happen?”

“Right. Ok. I only heard snip its, but do you want the long story, or the short story?”

“Give me the long story later tonight when we stop, short story now,” Hermun said quickly.

“Ok, so basically, Nayeli, yeah, that one, she, apparently, is, somehow or another, related to Julius Cesar and Cleopatra. The emperor has been looking for her as soon as he was informed of her existence. She is why all this happened. You’re just lucky that you weren’t there, because of your whole, umm, ‘punishment’ thing, they said that they would have fed you—“

Hermun knew what Alan was about to say.

“Ok, ok. I get it. Why do they have Warick?”

“Because he has done a pretty good job protecting her so far, so, they figure, he can either choose to fight in the arena or protect her,” Alan spat. “If you ask me, neither one is very good to me, but I guess that’s how it goes when you are enslaved.”

Alan’s words hit Hermun right in the gut. Why did we have to stop THERE! If we hadn’t stopped there, Warick, you’d still be here and like you always were! You just HAD to stop! Hermun thought bitterly.

He knew that he had to continue on and that there was nothing for it.

“Ok, thank you, Alan. Now we push on, and in his absence, I will take Warick’s place as the leader of this caravan,” Hermun said moving on to a less sensitive subject.

“I just have one question for our fearless leader,” Alan said.

“How am I going to explain this to the others?” Hermun guessed.

“Close, how are you going to explain this to your father?”