The Fallen - Chapter 3

Several hours later Rachelle awoke to the sounds of water merrily burbling along a creek bed and Bella snorting softly.  Grimly opening her eyes Rachelle saw that Bella had stopped along side a creek that Rachelle didn’t recognize.  There was no sign of the traders’ road she had been following during the night.  Across the small brook, Rachelle noted a large fir tree – one of the grandfathers of the forest – that was sufficiently large enough to shelter both Rachelle and Bella from the daylight.  If Rachelle loosely tied Bella, she would be unable to wander from beneath the shelter of the fir and the branches were so thick they would be virtually invisible should anyone by chance stumble upon this small clearing.

Rachelle briefly considered the fact that she should be alarmed by the fact she hadn’t the faintest idea where Bella had carried her, but she was so tired and so painfully sore it was nothing more than a passing thought.

Gingerly Rachelle slid from the saddle and immediately regretted moving.  Every muscle in her body seemed to be screaming at her simultaneously.  Coupled with the pain of her rape and several very long and cold hours in the saddle, Rachelle could barely move.

Shaking herself she muttered, “Shake it off, Rachelle…  You need to get yourself and Bella under that tree.  Then you can fall apart if you have to.  But not before.  What if someone were to come along and find you frozen here like this – there’s nothing that you could do about it.  It they were from the village they would kill first and ask questions later…”

Struggling gamely, Rachelle stumbled haltingly across the small stream – more leaning on Bella than leading her.  Somehow, they managed to make it beneath the sheltering boughs of the evergreen.  Breathing heavily Rachelle looked at Bella and wondered how she was ever going to get all the gear off the poor horse.

Rachelle shuddered once and attempted to straighten up.  The muscles of her back and thighs screamed out and she crumpled to her knees.  Sobbing, she grasped Bella’s girth strap.  “Blessed Goddess give me strength,” she prayed.  For a moment, Rachelle felt unbearably warm, almost as if her body was on fire.  Then the heat passed and some of the stiffness seemed to pass with it.

Confused, Rachelle slowly unbuckled the pack straps and let them lie where they fell – there would be time enough later to organize them.  Her fingers still stiff, she proceeded to remove Bella’s saddle.  The halter and reins would have to remain – there was no way she could wrestle those off right now.  Besides – she needed Bella to keep them on so she could tie her off to one of the low-lying branches. 

That done, she poured a measure of feed and a water into the travel dishes Evangeline had packed in the saddle bags and left them where Bella could easily reach them.  She took a few moments to re-treat all her cuts and bruises with more of Evangeline’s ointments and to bolt down a mouthful of trail rations and several cold swigs of water from her canteen.  Pulling her sleeping bag from one of the other bags, Rachelle dragged it out of Bella’s reach, crawled in, and promptly fell asleep.

~*~

In Shayakim, Lillith paced the Hall.  Something was changing in the Realm of Man.  She could feel it in her blood and wings.  There was a darkness creeping through the lands and a hint of light struggling to emerge.  Lillith felt the Mandate trying to tell her something important, but it had been so many years since it had spoken to her – they no longer knew how to communicate clearly with each other. 

A group of children shot past her as they romped through the corridors.  Lillith smiled faintly – who had known that with the Fall came fertility as well as loneliness?  The joy of bearing children of their own softened the pain of separation.  One could never say they were an overly gravid group, but every year God had blessed them with a birth.  And over the years, the armies of Shayakim had swelled.  The core of the army – the Hundred Fallen – remained fairly static, but the lower ranks had swelled.  None of them was fooled into thinking that they were anything other than an army.  None of them forgot where they came from or why.  All the children were raised to understand their place in the grand scheme of things – they all prepared for the day that War came again to them.  They trained and fought – loved and lost.  All in preparation for War.

But what other choice did they have?

Murmus quietly walked up behind her and gently touched her arm – “My Lady?  What troubles you so?”

Smiling distractedly Lillith turned to face Murmus and ruefully shook her head, “I know not for certain my warrior…  My philosopher…”  Fondly she touched his arm and shrugged.  “I just feel…unsettled.  I think the time is coming.”

Murmus nodded, “The time has always been coming Lillith.”

“Yes.  It has always been coming.  But I feel that it is nearly upon us and now I fear that we have not done enough to prepare.  Something shakes the very fabric of our worlds and I find I am afraid.”

Murmus snorted, “Afraid my Lady?  What have you – the Mandate Bearer – to fear?  Surely God extends his hand to you and shelters you from the world around us.”

Lillith shook her head and tried for the thousandth time to explain, “No Murmus…  God does nothing more for me than he does for any other.  Aside from the warnings the Mandate gives me, I am as you.  Or Uriel, or Eloa, or Grigori, or any of the others.  And even the warnings are not enough to save us.  They are merely enough to serve as warning that we must save ourselves.  And our charges.”

“Our charges…”  Murmus muttered.  “Charges who either curse us or simply disbelieve.  How are we to save those that will not allow themselves to be saved?”

At a loss for an answer, Lillith could only look at Murmus and shrug, “There is always Love, Murmus.  Let us hope that Love is enough.”