been the flow from under her arm, but if these deep gashes had have been the only damage to her frail body it still would have been a fearful injury. She was unconscious now, her shallow, labored breathing causing Nicholas to fear that every breath would be her last.
Reigel's words that he should accept others sacrifice's for him rang in his brain. He didn't want a kingdom; all he wanted was slowly fading from his world. Carefully lifting her he carried her out the back way. The patrons of the tavern still shouting and singing, oblivious to the dreadful events, or to their flight.
Running as best he could, he carried her through the dark alleys to the house from where they had started. Leaning back against the door he kicked with his heel against the stout timber.
"Wait. Patience. Patience. I'm coming." The door was opened by Bertram; slightly annoyed by the repeated kicking. He took one look. "Mother of mercy what has happened?"
Nicholas didn't reply as he entered. Bertram quickly led him to the small kitchen. "Lay her upon the table," he almost ordered.
Alice walked into the room disturbed by the commotion.
The move and run from the tavern had caused the blood to start flowing again staining Harriet's clothes deep red.
Alice pushed the men out of the way. "She bleeds too fast," she said trying with her bare hands to stop the flow. She turned urgently to her brother. "You must fetch Malcome?"
He said nothing, but the look he returned her took every hope from Nicholas.
"Go Bertram, go get him? for what it is worth."
The man left the room.
"We have a friend who has sympathy to our cause; he is well versed in the treatment of illness. He can make medicines, and has attended to wounds before." Her voice trailed away. "? He will help; if help any can."
Nicholas looked at Harriet. He had seen his parents; or the people he knew and loved as his parents, and he had seen his brother, all three in pools of their lifeblood. He had been devastated beyond words. But somehow this was different. For some reason watching this young girl; a girl who in truth he hardly knew; die before his eyes tore the soul from his body. He had never felt such loss as he felt at this moment, and he wished never to feel it again. He looked up at Alice. She was looking at him. He did not speak, but she did.
"Nicholas. The damage is grave. She has lost more blood than she can afford. Malcome is a good man, but he cannot work miracles, and that is what we need. You must be strong, and prepare for the worst."
Several minutes later Bertram returned and almost forced Nicholas away. "Let Malcome do what he can?" he said pulling Nicholas into the adjoining room. "Colen told us barely minutes ago that you had gone on. I need to know what's happening?" Bertram looked at him, a thousand questions in his eyes.
Nicholas slumped into the chair. "It was Colen. He led us into a trap. The guard was waiting."
Bertram shook his head. "Then our plans are known?"
Nicholas told him what had happened in the room. "I don't know if Colen told others beyond the Captain of your part, but you too must flee and warn what others you can."
"I fear that is easier said than done. They will have scattered like husks in the wind. Some we may find in time, others will lay low until? they will have to fend for themselves when it all begins."
"It can't still go ahead. The plans are known," snapped Nicholas unreasonably.
"Neither can it be stopped Nicholas. We have no communications. That is; was, our strength? Groups work and operate by themselves; to contact each and every one is next to impossible."
"But you must try. There will be bloodshed beyond belief."
"There will. But like Harriet they will offer that sacrifice."
"This is madness," snapped Nicholas in frustration.
"Of course it is, but it is a disorder that affects all those oppressed. Harriet gave her life for a chance to save the rebellion, not delay it, or stop it; but to save it Nicholas; and should I walk down the path that she now walks, heaven pray that I do it with half the courage that a child has shown to me."
Nicholas had no words.
"I will warn what others I can, and do my best to save what can be saved, but run; no, we shall stay here: but you must go."
"No," Nicholas protested firmly. "Whatever the consequence I shall stay with her."
"Nicholas." said Bertram equally firmly. "Were not her dying words, begging you to save what you could of the rebellion?"
Nicholas's voice almost broke. "I can't leave her: I don't know what to do; where to go. I must be with her."
"No." Bertram almost commanded him. "She did not die for you to waste your life here. You must go to Quone. I will give you an address. Go there, and you do what you can, at least it will give worth to her martyrdom."
"I?" He was almost sobbing now.
Bertram's voice became softer. "Nicholas nothing can be changed here, but it can in Quone. You must do what you can for Harriet's sake. Now go; we will meet all again at the celebrations before the gates of Quone; or as spirits in the afterlife; for we have lived too long as slaves to endure a day longer." He looked up at Alice as she came into the room.
She looked at Nicholas sadly. "Malcome has done what little he can. She grows weaker. Nicholas the time has come for you to say your farewell."
They left him alone with her. She looked pale; a deathly white, but peaceful, and still unbelievably beautiful.
Alice had moved her to a bed and had covered her with a warm blanket. She looked to Nicholas almost as if she was asleep. He remembered the night in the cavern when he had sneaked in to look at her while she had slept. He had begun to cry again and reached into his pocket for a kerchief, and felt the ring. He pulled it out and looked at it. "Damn you and all you stand for," he sobbed. "But if this is truly the ring of a king?" His voice began to fail him. "?Be I him or not, then I give it to my queen, for without you, there is nothing else in any kingdom that I desire." He could hardly speak now. "One day?" He sobbed. "I would have slipped my band of gold around your finger, now this will be my eternal bond to you." It was far too large to fit, and the only finger on her hand that was least damaged was her index finger, he placed the ring along it, curling the tip around the band. As he held her, and it touched both of their flesh, colour burst out of its depths in such a kaleidoscope that for an instant it made him turn his aching eyes away. Suddenly Harriet gasped, and her body went into a spasm. Nicholas looked on in dismayed shock as she then relaxed, and went still, with all signs of life seemed gone.
Nicholas knelt besides her sobbing for some time before he could stand and gently let down her hand. He didn't notice that the finger uncurled and hung down, or that by all logic the man's ring should have slipped from it. But it did not slip off. It held comfortable and tightly around her slender finger.
Time had run out for them all, and with a heavy heart he quickly said goodbye to Bertram and Alice, thanking them for what they had done.
He asked that they care for Harriet's resting-place, and almost ran from the house, save they should see the welling up in his eyes or the grief that he could no longer hold back.
More Quone-Loc-Sie, and other novels and stories by John Stevenson can be found by visiting
www.caelin-day.com
www.Australianstoryteller.com
www.Australianstorywriter.com
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