The soldier’s mouth opened, and a strangled mewling sound came out as he collapsed to the floor. Jocasta delivered another kick, this time to his temple and the man’s eyes rolled back in his head.
The first man had gained his feet and stood leaning against the wall, his left hand cupping his genitals, his right held up in surrender.
“Leave,” Jocasta said.
The man nodded and weakly moved away, leaving his friend lying on the floor.
Down the hallway, Jamshir was still there, watching the fight with excitement in his eyes. When the soldier stumbled away, Jamshir got the same look a small child does when the puppet show is over. Then, he turned and walked on.
Chapter 50
How was it possible to have such joy turn to sorrow in so short a time? Solomon was there. He came for her and they were together again. But he brought such awful news with him.
Her father was gone, and though he died a hero, he was still lost to her and she never got the chance to say goodbye. Worse, he died believing that she was dead as well.
And her cousin Thaddeus, a traitor to his own House and responsible for the death of her father. He was older than her, but had always been kind, and treated her more like a little sister than a cousin.
And Solomon… He allowed himself to be sent off to another world, so he wasn’t there when he was really needed. He gave himself to despair and grief and neglected his duty. He was also to blame for her father’s death.
Celia could hear muttered conversation from the other room, and the giggle of a child’s laughter. Greta and Friedrich had greeted the children warmly and with compassion as she knew they would. More mouths to feed, but Solomon said there were places to get food, and he had money that could be used. All of them would be better off now, at least for a while.
Her thoughts returned to Solomon, who could solve any problem, always coming to the rescue. Where was he when her father needed him?
She lay on the bed and stared into the darkness, letting it surround her like a heavy blanket. Until now, the darkness in Dunfield had been a curse, but at the moment it was a friend. Someone to hide her so she could go away from the world.
The damnable thing was that she still loved him. When he appeared behind her on the street and she heard his voice, her heart skipped and her breath caught in her throat. She never wanted him to let go once his arms were around her. She wanted those arms around her now.
Was she being unfair to him? Perhaps.
From what little he would say about it her father was the one who insisted on Solomon’s exile from the Greenweald. If he hadn’t been so hot-headed about things, maybe he’d still be alive and…
“Celia?” The voice was gentle and for a brief moment she thought it was Solomon. She didn’t want him there, not right then.
But the voice wasn’t that of a man. She turned over and Greta gathered her in her thin arms. They weren’t strong like Solomon’s. They were better. Like the arms of the mother that she lost so long ago.
“It’s okay,” Greta said, “you can let it go.”
♦ ♦ ♦
It was morning before she came out of the small bedroom that she stayed in. Greta had stayed with her until she cried it all out and finally fell asleep. She was still fuzzy. Her night was full of terrors and her mind played scenarios of death and betrayal over and over again.
“Where is everyone?” she asked.
Greta looked up from the cup of tea she was drinking. “Solomon has gone out for food. Friedrich and the children went with him.”
Celia sank down into a chair and Greta brought her a cup of tea. Normally, she would have gotten it herself and refreshed Greta’s while she was at it, but she felt so tired and tea didn’t seem important.
“How did you sleep?” Greta asked her.
She smiled slightly. “Not well.”
“I didn’t expect you would, if at all.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“Why is that?”
“Solomon. I love him, but he let my father…” She was unable to finish.
“No, dear, he didn’t.” The certainty in Greta’s voice brought her up short.
“Why do you say that?”
“We talked for a long time last night, after the children fell asleep. Solomon told us everything. What happened was tragic, there’s no doubt of that. But it wasn’t his fault any more than what happened to our Lyssa was yours.”
Celia recoiled in shock. Lyssa. She had almost forgotten the young girl in the midst of her own grief. And to hear Greta speak so…bluntly, about it…
Yet, she was right. Celia hadn’t been able to hold on to Lyssa and the child was taken. It didn’t mean that she didn’t try, or that she wouldn’t continue to try.
But Solomon was Solomon. Surely if anyone could have stopped what happened it would have been him.
Which was exactly the point. Maybe no one could have. And maybe it was unfair to put that on him. He was just a man. A special one, for sure, with abilities that came easily to him that most would kill for. But still, just a man.
They would need to talk, and maybe enough things had occurred that would make them being together impossible, but for now, there were things that needed to be taken care of. She needed to swallow her grief, let it stay inside until she had the luxury of letting
