The Pain that Made Her Beautiful

PMHB ch29

*                                                *                                                            *                                                *

After making camp, Alan had told Hermun every detail of the ambush and betrayal that took place at the hands of Apollo. There had been nothing that he could have done. Alan was just entering the folds of the tent when the strike took place. He knew that Hermun would want to know what had taken place so he hung back and watch as concealed as possible as Warick had watched Nayeli dragged down the hallway, subsequently questioning Apollo’s every motive and learning that Apollo and his party had actually been sent out to find and bring Nayeli back to Vespasian. When they had apprehended her original slaver, Thanos, and gotten the name of the family that he had sold her to, he set off to Nayeli’s town and arrived a few short days after the German raiding party had left. Apollo and his soldiers had followed their trail for quite some time before passing them and finding a good place to hinder their progress. Because they already knew who the men were, they were either to let them continue on their way to Germania if Nayeli had escaped their clutches. If she had been killed, Apollo had orders to capture as many of the commanders as possible and bring them all back to play gladiatorial games until they managed to win their freedom, if they could. In the case that Nayeli was captured, Apollo was to befriend the ranks and then, still luring as many of the heads of command as possible, capturing them and putting all, or singling out those who bore her ill will, and forcing them in to the gladiatorial games, until their freedom was won, and those who did not wish Nayeli ill will would protect her, willingly or not, until the day of their death.

Hermun had been shocked that Alan had gleaned so much information without being spotted.

“Actually,” Alan said, “I was spotted. I just managed to think quickly enough to escape with my life by stealing a horse.”

Hermun wasn’t surprised. Alan was able to make decisions in the blink of an eye, especially if it meant his survival.

After Alan had concluded his tale, Hermun said, “Well, I have to tell them sometime.”

“Who?”

“The men. And now is as good a time as any. I need you to find me a rise and assemble the men around it so that I may address them.”

“Consider it done.”

Hermun watched Alan leave the tent and leaned forward in his chair. His rested his head in his hands and said softly in to space, “Why, Warick, did you have to leave me? I can’t do this without you. The men, they won’t listen to me the way they did to you. I wish I had been more like you growing up: honorable and good. If I had been, maybe we wouldn’t be in the predicament that we are right now: you being held captive and me being forced to lead a group of men who will never respect me the way they did you,” Hermun breathed in deeply and let it out raggedly, “I—I guess I just wish that I never would have treated you so badly.”

Hermun’s breath caught in his throat and his eyes began to tear up unexpectedly, “I just wish I didn’t have to do this alone.”

Hermun’s shoulders shook and tears flowed freely from his eyes. After a few seconds, he wiped them from his eyes and stood. He walked over to the makeshift table and examined the maps that Avel had been responsible for. The man had been brilliant. He had traced beautiful lines on the pages of the safest routes to follow and the times of day that the party should arrive, were they to keep to the current pace, factoring in terrain and stopping for the night. After they had run into Apollo, the barbarian, family breaker, and slaver, Avel had crossed out his original estimates and rewrote new estimates in, accounting for the lost time.