Athers watched through the one-way mirror as Major Clellenheim swore angrily. The Major was seated across a plain table from Catherine, each in straight-backed metal chairs. Catherine had been in this room for the past three days as things settled down toward the point that President Aysee could make time to see her. And what with the difficulties crossing the Channel at this time - yes, they were lucky that the whole process was moving along as fast as it was.
Clellenheim had, in the interim, taken it upon himself to get everything he could out of Catherine. Including, hopefully, an understanding of English. That was all well and good - however, Athers had a problem with Clellenheim's methods.
The Major issued snarled out another curse, pairing it with slamming his fist on the table hard enough that Athers felt the thump. Catherine jumped in her chair, a somewhat confused - and frightened - expression on her face. With that, the Major stood up and stormed out of the nondescript room.
Athers sighed. The Major was accomplishing nothing. And to boot, he was stepping up his attempts now that he had only hours until the President arrived. All else failing, he was dead-set on proving his suspicion that she did in fact know English.
The door behind Athers opened and then slammed as Clellenheim stormed in. He was whispering enough obscenities that even Athers raised his eyebrows.
"She's a tough one." the Major said. "She isn't caving no matter what I do. I'm going to have to try harder. Break out some new techniques."
Athers rolled his eyes. "You have no idea what you're doing."
Clellenheim speared him with a burning look. "Well, if you're so knowledgeable then you can get her singing like a canary, can't you?"
Athers didn't deign to respond - he just walked out of the room. He heard Clellenheim laughing behind him, taking his exit as a retreat.
Not exactly. Or rather, it isn't if you're sure you want to do this. Are you?
I am. Athers thought sourly. If only to show that jackhole how dumb he really is.
With that thought, he strategically repositioned an object a few feet. After making sure that it was snugly in its new position, Athers strode off down the corridor. He reached the door into the interrogation room and pushed it open. She looked up as he stepped in.
"Come on." He said, and turned around, not waiting for her. He could almost hear Clellenheim screaming at him from behind the mirror, and couldn't keep the grin off his face. He didn't check behind him to see if Catherine was following. He could hear her footfalls about five feet back. He took a left, then a right and pushed open a glass door, stepping out onto a red stone balcony covered in rays of sunlight. Tables lay across it, and politicians and soldiers enjoyed foreign delicacies cooked by the staff at each. He stepped over the railing, Catherine on his heels.
The balcony hung over a short cliff and then the sea, which pounded against the rock walls of said cliff. the setting sun reflected off the water and across the entire area, giving it a golden-red hue. Catherine hesitantly leaned on the railing as Athers did the same a little to the side. After a moment he spoke.
"How long are you planning on keeping this up?" She looked at him in incomprehension. He almost laughed. "Your facade of not knowing English, I mean. It won't help you much in the end. Interpreters are doubtless being rushed out here, and most of the Immortals in England are Linguists. You know, they can speak and understand any language automatically as breathing?" She still had that look on her face. Athers waved his hand. "You can ignore me if you want, but you won't win any battle you're intending to fight here with this nonexistent barricade."
For a moment, Athers thought he was wrong. Then he saw the look of incomprehension collapse like a wooden wall that had been hit by a thirty-gun broadside.
Leaving a look with about as much hope as said wall after the barrage. She put a hand over her eyes.
"What did you expect?" She asked in completely unaccented English. "First the battle at Valhalla, then I wake up in Nadia's clutches, then when I've lost all hope Englishmen come and seize me, then throw me onto a ship and take me far from everywhere I've ever known - and then are attacked by pirates who are - surprise! - trying to kidnap me, and I've been in transit to here . . . ." Her voice trailed off.
"Do you blame me?" She finally whispered. It took Athers a second to realize that it was a real question.
I've never thought about what must have happened from her perspective before. He thought. Now that he had, he wished he hadn't. It was definitely a traumatizing experience. Or rather, one traumatizing experience after another, and another, and another . . . .
"As a servant of the Crown, I guess I'd have to." He said slowly. "But as a human being? No, I can't."
"And now there's no choice for me." Her voice was bitter. "I'll either be killed or imprisoned."
"The politicians might be willing to send you home." Athers began cautiously. He was still taken aback when Catherine broke out into harsh laughter.
"That would be my death sentence." She said flatly. "In my uncle's Russia, if you spout everything he says he concludes that you are a sycophantic lackey and you're never heard from again. If you disagree with him on too much, he concludes that you're a traitor or a subversive, and you're never heard from again. I walked that line since I was ten mortal years old. I've had to watch to make sure that no traps laid by him or his son Joseph - my cousin is usually called Stalin, though, or the Man of Steel - but recently I think I've slipped. I think that he was going to incarcerate me at Valhalla until he could find a way to reasonably dispose of me in a way that strengthened his power base. Send me back to New Horizons, or anywhere else in Russia, and I'll be dead before the full moon."
Athers raised an eyebrow. That was eight days away. "I don't think it's as bad as you think."
"Isn't it?" Catherine sounded bleak. "Either I will be returned to Russia - kicking and screaming - and killed, sent to Vikingdom - kicking and screaming, for Ragnar will just send me to my uncle - and killed, be executed here, or just be incarcerated for the rest of my Immortal life, or until I can convince someone to get me a pistol and a single shot. I'm a political tool now, nothing but. I may even be offered up to Saladin to keep him off you. Lord President Aysee will likely use however he decides to deal with me as a way to strengthen the Patriots for the next elections, while his opponents will use it as a method to garner votes for themselves."
Athers' eyebrows shot up. He had no idea Catherine - or anyone in Russia - was that well informed about the political world in England.
"I have some Immortal friends. I know Lord Arya, and I'm quite chummy with Lord Lighthearter-" He chuckled internally at the understatement "-and even Lord Ravus and I have a history. I can do things."
The look she gave him might have come from a slave market in Arabia. "I doubt that even your friendships can do much faced with political expediency."
Athers had to admit she had a point. But then she spoke again.
"Only one person, this entire . . . adventure, I suppose, has ever really wanted to save me from Nadia not for political points, but because I was going to die. Only one person has really, in short, given a damn about me as a person, and not a political hot potato." She smiled slightly. "But, Captain, I don't think there's anything you can do now."
The door onto the bacony slammed open again. Major Clellenheim and a dozen Redcoats came rushing out, all armed. The Major looked about ready to tear Athers apart one limb at a time.
"I expected them to catch us somewhere in the halls." Catherine observed flatly. "Unless this was a ploy. But I don't think so."
"Well," Athers said, looking out to sea. "I jammed a chair under the doorknob into the observation room. The Major's probably been pounding on the walls and yelling his head off this whole time. Someone finally wandered by, I guess."
"You're crazy!" Catherine said aloud. Then she whispered. "You did it for me? And it wasn't part of a ploy?"
"Mad." Athers said. "If you're in England proper - everything on the Isle to Ravus-York to Iberia - the term is mad."
She smiled. Then a pair of Redcoats grabbed her arms.
"You've gone too far this time, Captain!" Major Clellenheim yelled, drawing a pistol. "This is treason!"
"Really?" Athers shrugged, then jumped lightly onto the rail. "Well then - I wash my hands of this weirdness. I shall see the lot of you again." He waved at the Major.
"You're daft!" Clellenheim exclaimed.
"Mad." Catherine and Athers said it together this time. Athers chuckled.
"Amazing how many Britishers need lessons in proper British." He commented, then turned and seemed to tense, as if he was going to jump.
"Captain?" Catherine asked. He looked back. She opened her mouth for a moment, then closed it, as though unsure of what to say. She finally spoke a minute later.
"You saved my life three times - twice in Pripyat, and again at sea - and now you're sticking your neck out for me again." She paused again, before finally saying. "I guess I've never really said thank you."
Athers stood for a long moment. Then he smiled.
"And you'll never need to." He said, and threw himself off the balcony.
Clellenheim exclaimed. But a moment later Athers opened his cloak, which caught the wind and lifted him into a glide out towards theMorning Glory, which had made the sail around Gibraltar without incident.
"Shoot him down!" Clellenheim cried, and the Redcoats not holding Catherine raised their rifles.
They hadn't gotten halfway when another voice cried out. "PORT ARMS!"
The men did so instantly. Clellenheim went purple. He turned to look at where the shout had come from.
At a table not eight feet away from where Athers and Catherine had been standing, Alex stood up from his half-eaten plate of spaghetti, and across from him Anna did the same. The men hadn't hesitated to ground their musket butts - after all, Alex was a major too.
"You were here the whole Goddamned time?!?!? My God, Armitage, I'll have you up as an accomplice in treason and you know it!" Clellenheim roared.
It wasn't Alex who responded. Anna stepped forward and slapped the major. "And because you ruined my date, I'll have you up on sexual harassment." She said sweetly.
A vein throbbed in Clellenheim's eyelid.
"I don't think the president will be too happy when he hears what happened here." Alex remarked almost casually, raising an eyebrow. "You sure you want to bring it up and not just let bygones be bygones? After all, she's still here." He gestured at Catherine.
Clellenheim snarled. "Take her to her cell!" He commanded his men. He turned back to Alex and Anna. "I swear, you'll hear about this!" He said angrily, and stomped off.
Alex and Anna watched him go. Then they returned to their food like nothing had happened. Far off across the water, Athers landed on the decks of the Morning Glory, which began sprouting sails.
The President arrived twenty minutes later. Whether he was in fact pleased with the events is another story.
~FIN
-L
