The morning sun was bright and all seemed cheery. The stray black dog had adopted the unit and trotted along begging for morsels. Another stray joined the combat pack, Eye, a wounded Forward Scout. A dangerous job. The battle crew seemed happy to have him along. He looked tough, distant, and deadly; … and grieving. Eye paused to nod at several Jezebels who were traveling along by his company. One smiled at him and said, “Hey, Honey how come so sad? Come spend some time and you’ll feel better.”
“Sorry,” he replied, “Your offer will not cheer me. Besides, I’m taken.”
He faked a smile hoping it was all still true and Arrow was still alive. The floozies frowned at a man in love. It was bad for their business.
“Why are we going to Shiloh?” Yew Rue asked for self-amusement.
The military caravan gazed at Rue with a knowing look as if he had missed something obvious or been in the heat too long.
“We go there because it is the city where we make war,” he said, answering his own question.
“I’ve heard the city’s a mess,” said a marching voice.
“And I’ve heard it’s very exciting and adventurous,” said Zingara, “a beautiful palace of luxury.”
“Both are true, ” said the Wise Old Man, “It’s a mysterious place. Many undiscovered things await us there.”
“Ha. You forget I was trapped in the City of Despair. It smells bad,” said Yew Rue mockingly.
“You’ve gone daft,” said Zingara with a laugh, “I’ll dance for you and revive you with love.”
“Conserve power to where a Dragoness is concerned, my daughter,” said the wise old Man, “You’d best focus on bewitching your hero to slay the insensitive beast.”
“You think me weak and only capable of seduction,” said Zingara, “Just wait.”
“To destroy the Dragoness, you must stare your worst nightmare in the face without the shield of unconsciousness. You must become aware. Once your fear is understood, it can be destroyed piece-by-piece,” said the Wise Old Man, “Imagine, now in your mind, the beast is in front of you. Gaze into her glassy snake eyes. Feel the fear consume you as you recognize the monster is in you boiling and rising to the surface of your unconscious mind. You are now fully aware of what terrifies you. See it. What is it?”
Yew Rue imagined the beast, peering into the slit of gleaming eye like staring through a flickering flame. Yew Rue whispered a chanting recitation. Induced into a trance by Krest mystic words, he stared into the blinding desert sky.
“I feel a suffocating sensation. I fear having no life of my own. Always captive to some controlling external hand shaping my life. I am helpless and bound, manipulated by outer forces; willing to grovel as an insect for an ounce of freedom. Life is a glass bottle with limited space. Grains of sand slowly fill the bottle until I gasp for breath. I am a slave imprisoned by the shortness of life and time.”
The traveling party was silent. They avoided Yew for hours as if he was possessed by demons and had gone mad. In truth, it was the madness possessing him vocalized.
Later as the military caravan halted near the castle walls, a lot of talk was going on about tactical command: who was to do what by when.
“OK. I’m obviously going in the castle as I’ve been assigned a solitary quest,” said Yew.
“That’s understood. But, you’ve been acting peculiar. You are not going in alone. I know the castle floor plan so I lead you in and give you cover,” said Krest.
No one else really challenged to lead the assault. They knew Yew and Krest were the best. Waiting for battle results just meant someone wasn’t standing in the way. The silence was broken by Zingara, of course.
“I’m going in.”
“What? Why you?” her father replied.
She hesitated.
“It’s a family matter. You are my father and Yew is my future mate,” she smiled, proud of her quick response.
Mate?, thought Yew, sure boiled down to its carnal simplicity. The implications sounded like a rank or chore.
“Your leadership serves better here among the others,” said Krest scowling.
“We are to free a royal woman prisoner. It’ll be best if she’s tended to by a female officer.” Now this was better logic for male ears. She knew Yew and her father felt there was something mystic about women, something magical they could not control.
Yew rolled his eyes at Krest.
“No. You may not go,” commanded Krest.
“Then I invoke my right as a royal princess,” stated Zingara.
“How presumptuous. What makes you think you can feign any such claim?” said her father. He pursed his lips wondering if she had possibly divined the truth.
She smiled.
“You’re right. How could I, a desert gypsy, have any royal blood?”
Here it comes, thought Yew, she’s going to give the old guy both blades.
But that was all she said. She didn’t mention her sisterhood to the royal hostage. She didn’t even frown.
She’s planning something for sure, thought Yew. He watched the stray black dog wondering if its life was an easier one.
“Father, what victim profile does the Dragoness Lamia prefer?”
“Child! You know a virgin succumbs first and a pregnant woman always falls second. You fatigue me with games. Why do you say this?”
“I am not a child. I offer to go as dragoness bait.”
“You! A virgin?” Yew quizzed.
Indignant silence was her stinging reply. The only other alternative type of bait was obvious.
Krest turned to Yew. He was frozen, his mouth hanging open.
“From Yew’s appearance, we can assume he is not the father of your surprise child. How did this blessed mystery occur?”
“I met a man in the desert. One not of our clan. An outsider not of the dunes. He is the father.”
“That’s why your trickery and attempted seductions in the desert. You were searching for a proper father for the inner bastard you carry,” moaned Yew defeated.
Zingara appeared pained at Yew’s accusations yet made no defense and said nothing.
“Perplexing! Did this man have a name?” asked Krest.
“He called himself Morgan, the Sea Dweller. He was very strong,”
Eye standing guard close enough to hear all, made mental note: Morgan, the Sea Dweller. It was a name he heard Arrow say before back in the death cave.