Blood-Born

Chapter V - Part 5

Rubicon walked briskly through the outer rooms of her praetorium, blatantly having ignored everyone and everything along the most direct path that she could find.

Her glare alone threatened dire consequence to anything that may have otherwise dared to venture out and slow her down, while her black hair flowed like fluttered wings that carried with them the threat of her darkest wrath as she moved.

Once across the threshold of her private chambers the guards that had managed to keep up stopped and reached for the doors when she threw up her hand in quick dismissal.

Even before the doors had finished closing, armaments had been ripped off and forcibly flung aside while her cape was tossed to join them just ahead of her chest plate as anger seethed through to the very core of her being.

She only stopped when she finally reached her desk where her hands gripped each side of the polished oak surface before she screamed with primal rage and pained frustration as she swept it clear of its scant contents.

"For what it's worth ..." An annoyingly familiar voice mused from nearby, "I am glad an officer of mine does not tear up her dress shirts other than to remove the sleeves as you have so insisted upon doing with each and every one that has been custom designed and supplied to you by our highly talented tailors."

Eyes closed, she took a long calming breath that just managed to force her black anger back inside its cage, albeit begrudgingly.

Clearly, she was not as alone in her personal sanctum sanctorum as she should have been under the circumstances and there was only one person that would have dared to defy her rule in this place of places without fear of her wrath upon his person.

Leviticus LaRouchette...

With pure focus of iron will alone, her body relaxed as she brought her bare arms to her sides while neck muscles loosened with a slow turn of her head from one shoulder to the other and back.

"He gets under your skin doesn't he?" LaRouchette mused from where he had been laying in wait next to her map table.

In scaled miniature the farm was laid out in detail; each oubliette, structure and ring stretched out to the end of the table where civilization would be found.

Small colored pebbles marked where they had set up the refugees.

Even the white range stones were placed exactly where they could be found to mark distance from the walls to the open field.

Emotions now held in cooled check, she stood straight and turned to face him, before she leaned back against her desk with bared arms folded over her chest on purpose given his earlier comments.

"Men do not get under my skin ... never have ... and never will."

LaRouchette mused as he watched but could not keep his grin from having annoyed her at his pleasure.

Once again he found himself wondering whether it was the cold white eye or scars that so easily seemed to hold sway with those who served or feared her.

"If I were here to discuss how you ... avail yourself of conquests in your bedchambers, I would not be here at all." He offered as he turned to look down at the table.

"I'm here to find what progress has been made on our other far more intriguing endeavors."

With a glare of unveiled contempt, she pushed off and moved to stand next to him while she frowned at the miniature structures.

"We have thoroughly searched the guide woman Lena's list of possible locations, however nothing has been found as of yet." She reported evenly. "This gets under my skin, not some sheriff from a no-name western town in the middle of such an uncivilized country that we find ourselves in."

"Goblin's Toe ..." He corrected somewhat absentmindedly.

She turned in question. "What?" Her anger had bubbled back to a simmered presence.

"The name of his town is Goblin's Toe, Wyoming and it is very important to me ... are we clear?" His tone was chilled and even.

She nodded and swallowed. "Yes cousin, we are very clear on that particular point among many."

"You still don't believe me ... about our cousine Grace." He mused in an attempt to lower the tension. "That she would have come all this way knowing full well that we would not support her group's intentions."

"I managed to put much thought into that while I toured the outer barriers and the refugee camps."

With the deft agility of a ballerina, she turned with fluid ease and slowly began to pace the open square of her office as if in the slow dance of a hunter stalking prey.

"It is doubtful that she even sensed my presence."

"She brought that man here to do what she needed him to do." He reminded her. "I have never known her to waste time or effort without proper reward."

"The witch would be helpful."

"Clementine's energies are focused where they need to be."

"As you wish, however it is possible that we may never find his work in time." Her eyes looked over the table. "His trail from start to finish was the main lodge and surrounding buildings along with the path that we controlled during the tour."

"A tour that you claimed was a waste of time."

"No, it was clearly a tactical misuse of our resources." She scolded him coolly, "... and has left us exposed in ways that we have yet to figure out. I'm as sure of it as you clearly have been all along."

"We shall see." He mused at what it must have cost her to have finally admitted that he may yet be proven right but kept any snarky response to that particular gem as he watched her work out their problems.

If there was one thing that she was better than anyone else at, including himself, was rapid deduction.

"However, that having been said, the distraction that our fair witch suffers from may soon be resolved now that your sheriff has arrived."

He found that he could not argue with that logic.

"Also ..." She continued while he remained silent, "What will happen if our fair cousine Grace has indeed gone dark...?" She inquired, far more aware than anyone of the relationship between the woman in question and Leviticus before their turn.

"The others will need to be told ... and soon." He sighed, reluctantly having found he had no choice but to concur.

"Alert the watchmen that we may have business for them."

He turned to look directly at her with a resigned frown.

"The final decision will be yours, not mine. I find myself far too close to this particular ... situation to have a clear mind for it."

She simply nodded.

"I am both pleased and honored dear cousin."

"Be careful what you wish for, other cousins may not agree with us or the decision."

"I believe that it was you who taught me that forgiveness was best asked for first and permission second." She smiled as she chided him. "It will be done only if I were to find that it indeed needs to be done, and then only then."

"One last issue to deal with." he said, as he moved toward the door.

She frowned.

"I promise you that we will keep searching."

"No, I meant will Poe sleep here or at the lodge."

LaRouchette smiled under her glare as he left her quarters.

They were right; her white eye did seem to burn brightest when she was angry.

Or aroused, as the case could well be at some level in that utter black darkness within his Praetor.

He wondered if Poe would finally be the one to clarify which was correct.