Ascent of the Aliomenti (38 page)

“Elise!” Will shouted. “It doesn’t have to be like this! Change course!”

Elise shook her head once, the only indication that she’d noticed his presence.

“You must turn the boat!” Will shouted. “Innocent people will have their lives damaged. Don’t hurt others because they happen to be near James; it’s hardly a fair and equitable response. Don’t let your anger do that, Elise!”

Elise didn’t move, gave no indication that she’d heard what he said. She merely continued steering the ship, making minor adjustments to the path to ensure she’d impact the
Monitor
at the correct angle.

“I can stop you,” Will whispered, and this time he got her attention.

“You wouldn’t
dare
,” Elise hissed. “This is between the two of us, and nobody else.”

“Wrong,” Will said. “You’re both part of my family. And as for the others? Most everyone in Waterloo has something coming in on your boat, out on James’ boat, or both. If you ram him and sink his boat – and yours – then you will very much involve everyone else. Stop this now!”

Elise’s eyes flamed at him. “No.”

Will shook his head. “Then you leave me no choice, Elise. I’ll have to stop you from doing this.”

Elise’s grin took on a deranged look. “Oh, I don’t think you will.”

Will felt a small hand touch the back of his neck, and then a second, as a sensation of having the wind knocked out of him crushed his Energy and spirit. He crumpled to the deck of the ship, his memory fighting to recall the best defense against this. The hands on his neck, the power that drained him of his Energy, could belong to only one person.

He tried to pull himself free, but the child climbed upon his back and tightened his grip, and Will found himself fighting to retain consciousness. It had been centuries since he’d felt the adult Aramis’ power. In their encounter in the twenty-third century, Will had had the impression that Aramis was going easy on him, perhaps suspecting that Will wasn’t much of a threat. The hands suggested Aramis was only a boy now, but his power was being unleashed in its entirety. And Will was losing this fight.

Just as his foggy mind remembered that he had an army of nanos he could use to extract himself from Aramis’ grip, the
Merrimack
collided with the
Monitor
. The collision knocked the boy from Will’s back, and he was able to roll further away and snap a skeleton of nanos around himself, forming a layer that prevented the direct contact that allowed the boy’s power to have its full effect.

Will staggered up to his knees as his body began regenerating the Energy lost to Aramis’ touch, and he swiveled sluggishly to see the youngster. The boy stood, and Will saw the familiar white-blond hair. To his surprise, he saw no aggressive judgment on the young face, but rather a distant, vacant look that clouded the boy’s eyes.

The ship slumped, jarring Will’s thoughts and eyes away from Aramis, and he fell once more to the deck. With his Energy and energy both recovering rapidly, he regained his footing and fought to maintain his balance as he surveyed the situation.

The
Merrimack’s
front was reinforced with metal, a design decision she claimed helped the ship cut through the water and obtain a higher speed. James’ preferred a design comprised entirely of wood, claiming that the lighter weight increased the speed of his ships compared to Elise’s. Will wasn’t sure which craft was swifter, but Elise’s ship had proved itself to be the bully in this encounter. The metal edge had knifed through the side of the
Monitor
, splitting the craft nearly in half.

However, the
Merrimack
didn’t fare as well when it collided with the dock. With its speed slashed after crashing through the
Monitor
, the damaged boat struck the very solid dock and crumpled. The metal sealing the prow had been loosened as it sawed its way through the water and the wood of the
Monitor
. The dock knocked the final bits of metal loose and free, and the weakened seams split, allowing water to rush into the craft. The boat began to sink into below the surface. The only question was which of the two ships would sink entirely beneath the surface first, and Will knew that both James and Elise would make note of the outcome as somehow symbolic of the proper victor of their not-so-minor, not-so-private war.

Will wasn’t concerned about their personal hatred. He simply wanted off the
Merrimack
. Finding his Energy sufficiently restored, he teleported the short distance to the mainland, away from the dock and the two sinking ships.

Elise followed soon after, and James, slightly dazed from the impact, raced down the gangplank, shouting obscenities at Elise, who responded in kind. The Aliomenti nearby were soon shouting at both of them, blaming one or the other for the damaged ships and for the lost cargo in both ships. It didn’t take long for the shouts to turn to shoves, and then swords were drawn.

Will watched the escalating tension, and could only shake his head. If he was stronger right now, he could likely make all of them see the errors of their ways and cease the tension, but he’d been drained by Aramis and had had no chance to work on the argumentative couple and their supporters on shore. He could do nothing but watch the rising tension and the sinking ships.

He suddenly realized he’d forgotten about Aramis and, judging by Elise’s lack of reaction, she’d forgotten about him as well.

Muttering under his breath about the foolishness of making promises with incomplete information, Will sprinted past the combatants and found himself aboard the
Monitor
once again. He was conserving his Energy by limiting the distance he’d need to teleport to the ship, saving it for moving himself and Aramis to the safety of the shore. He jumped over the rail and onto the deck of the
Merrimack
once more.

Aramis was there, sitting on the deck and watching the ship sink, seemingly oblivious to his own peril. Will raced to him, and still Aramis did not move. Will finally grabbed the boy’s arm, and Aramis yanked his arm away.

“I’m trying to save your life!” Will shouted, exasperated. How could Aramis fight him
now
? There was no great division now, no Oaths to protect at Arthur’s discretion. Will was trying to save the boy. He finally seized Aramis’ arm and teleported both of them to the dock, and then pulled the boy on to the dry land.

Aramis pulled away, eyes wide in a look of clear shock. Apparently, Elise hadn’t alerted the boy to the skills he’d see living in an Aliomenti outpost. Will, who thought of Aramis as his future Hunter self, had no concern about removing that particular ignorance from the boy’s life.

Will’s eyes fell to a chain around the boy’s neck, and he focused on the small medallion at the end of the chain.

Tacitus.

So that was his true name? Tacitus? Will rather preferred that to Aramis, but then “Tacitus” hadn’t tried to kill him.

Yet.

“Who are you?” Will asked the boy. “Where do you come from?”

Tacitus said nothing, his eyes vacant, but loosely focused in the general direction of Elise’s fighting form off in the distance. He seemed unconcerned about his own safety near a man he’d recently tried to take out of commission, as if it didn’t occur to him that Will might now be a threat. He made no effort to take a defensive posture, or to pay Will any mind at all.

Will frowned. Why
wouldn’t
Aramis – or Tacitus, rather – try to protect himself from a potential attack by Will? He glanced at Elise. Had she figured out the boy’s gift, and somehow tamed him to her will? If that was true, then it might well be the case that if she didn’t direct him to act, he wouldn’t act. That might explain the vacant expressions as well.

Will scowled, and then shook his head. She’d enslaved a child to enhance her own status in her community.

History was repeating itself.

XXIX

Battle

1700 A.D.

The shouting on the shore grew louder, and Will ran toward the noise.

The outpost had splintered as quickly as the ships, with Aliomenti shouting in fury at other Aliomenti, aligning themselves in the raging battle between the warring couple as their swords were brought to bear. The act of destruction, and the subsequent loss of property, had escalated the underlying feud into an actual battle.

James and Elise were at the center, fighting in the only way that suited them. Their swords flashed, slashing through the air with an intense ferocity, each blow meant to inflict death. Their faces were terrible, a rage beyond imagining, and their Energy burst forth with each swing. Several blows had clearly struck flesh, for both fighters were bloodied.

Much as he wanted to halt their fighting, Will was forced to admit that there would be no reconciliation between the two. The misdeeds and crimes had alternated back and forth until they’d reached this point. Though no one could prove it, many suspected that James was behind a massive fire that had indefinitely postponed the launch of one of Elise’s ships. The fire had destroyed a forge specifically built to produce the metal used to bind together the joints of Elise’s ships, and no other buildings were damaged. The coincidence was far too great for James to avoid suspicion, though he’d proclaimed his innocence.

One day, he hoped, they’d learn why the two had grown apart, why the animosity was so great that they’d resort to such willful destruction of property, what had happened that would lead them to incite a civil war among their personal supporters. Will wondered what Arthur would make of such a battle. A civil war meant two leaders vowing for supremacy, and neither of them would be Arthur. It certainly went against Arthur’s vision of a single leader with ultimate authority.

The men and women of Waterloo fought in the fashion of the time, with lines of warriors facing off. But unlike their leaders, the fighters did not stay with the swords for long. After a few moments, they dropped their swords and switched to Energy. The bursts of Energy made the air around him crackle, and Will let himself phase into transparency to avoid being hit. It was unlikely he could be hit with an Energy burst sufficient to hurt him, but he didn’t want to take any chances.

The men and women did begin to fall, though, each casualty blasted with sufficient Energy to injure the victim. He saw two people down on the ground, unmoving, and was able to sense that neither would rise again. He shook his invisible head in sorrow.

“This is all Will’s fault!” one of the fighters shouted.

Will blinked, though no one could see him.
His
fault? What on earth were they talking about?

“He should have warned them more!” another shouted. “If they’d never gotten together, if he hadn’t
encouraged
them to get together, then this wouldn’t have happened!”

“Where is he? I don’t see him.”

“He was on the
Monitor
when Elise rammed it. Maybe he went down with the ship?”

“No, I swear I saw him around here.”

“If he’s teleported or gone invisible, you won’t find him.”

There were muttered curses shouted, as the fighters, with nothing to unite them, began sizing each other up again.

And then a new voice sounded. “Oh, but
I
know
exactly
where he is.”

Will froze. He knew that voice. And he knew the man pointing a finger at his invisible form.

“There’s nothing there, Sebastian. You’re imagining things.”

“Are you sure?” Sebastian replied. “Let’s check that theory out, shall we?” And he shot a blast of Energy directly at Will, who, caught by surprise, was unable to avoid it. He fell to the ground, and in his shock phased back to solid visibility.

Sebastian stood over him, scowling, and then turned to face the crowd, which stood in shock, staring at Will. At least they’d stopped fighting.

Then they moved in on him. “This is all your fault!” a woman shouted.

“How is that?” Will asked, as he rose and dusted himself off. “How do you figure that this is
my
fault? I’m not the one who rammed a ship... or provoked the attack.”

“She told me you encouraged them to get together, to commit themselves to each other. If you’d not done that, if you’d discouraged them or warned them away from each other, none of this would have happened!”

Will stared at her. “They asked my opinion on whether they were meant to be together, something they fully believed at the time. I had no reason to doubt them. And I certainly had no reason, seven
centuries
ago, to believe that it would lead to
this
.”

“But
nobody’s
able to fool you, Will.”

“Yeah,
nobody
can tell
you
a lie and get away with it.”

“I’m not infallible,” Will replied. “And you’re forgetting that people change over time. Perhaps, after so many centuries together, they’d simply grown apart.” The words stung as he spoke them; had he and Hope actually grown apart after only a few decades? Was that the real reason she’d left?