Last Man Standing

Chapter 22: Who We Are

"You're going to pay for this one, boy!"

The scruffy man paced back and forth in frustration while I sat on the floor rubbing my bottom. He was frowning with concentration as he bit his nails distractedly, trying to come up with our next move.

It was kind of endearing.

"I'm sorry, but I could see no other way of getting into your chambers without getting in trouble."

"Don't hold your breath; we're not in the clear yet."

He grabbed Bash's forearm and led him towards the door. "Quintus and Theo are surely waiting out there, and Newt will be back any minute. They probably won't leave the training grounds without another word from me. You'll go with them back to the cells, Bash, and report back to me tomorrow morning. Those three are too smart to believe this one's poor attempt at a severe injury," he gestured to me, "but hopefully they'll come up with their own conclusions that don't lead to our hidden guest."

I looked back at Evander; still sound asleep despite the ruckus in the room.

"Stay here and try not to draw attention to yourself. The last thing we need is a guard coming in here while I'm gone."

He swung open the door and quickly ushered Bash out. I gave my friend a quick nod in thanks before he was out of sight.

The door closed with a loud thud, and then the room went silent.

I scurried closer to the bed, ignoring the protests from my ribs and open wounds.

I grabbed his hand and began to lightly squeeze it in hopes of a reaction. "Evander? Can you hear me?"

Nothing.

"Evander, it's me..." Instinctively, I turned to make sure we were alone. "It's Candra."

It felt good to say my name out loud again.

"Did you hear what I said? It's Candra..."

Still nothing.

I sighed in defeat, realizing that he probably wouldn't regain consciousness for another day or two. Nevertheless, I wanted to talk to him... or rather, talk at him.

"You know what, Evander? I misjudged you. I mean, I just thought you were nothing more than... well, let's just call it perfection. Every girl wanted you, and every boy wanted to be you. You kept to yourself, working the fields and flames without complaint. You had to be the nicest, smartest guy I had ever met because you knew how to live for yourself; to not let others determine your happiness, let alone your future." I paused, "And then on your twentieth birthday, you decide to make the world's stupidest decision; you chose me to be your wife." I was involuntarily smiling at the thought. "You said I was perfection..." I gave a sad chuckle before continuing, "I guess we both misjudged one another. No one is perfect, Evander; you proposed to a girl you had barely spoken to, you chase after her despite the fact that she drugged you, and you've killed for her on several occasions..."I thought about the Galacian at Gram's and the unmentioned sum of slaves he killed in the pits, all in an attempts to keep me safe. "You're far from perfect, Evander, but you wouldn't be in this horrible situation if it wasn't for me." Tears began to slowly fall down my cheeks. "I've turned you into a murderer, Evander, and there's no going back from that. Killing another human being really does something to your constitution; it shatters your soul into a million different pieces..." Tiberius' horrific laughter from the night in the pits began to ring in my ear. "It blackens your heart..."

I placed my free hand across his forehead, softly brushing stray hairs away from his bandaged wound. "I'm sorry, Evander. You didn't deserve any of this. But I swear I'm going to get you out of here... alive. I'll get you back to Kent, where you can work the fields and forge steel goods for your neighbours."