22. Chapter Twenty-One
22
William
“H as the war between you and Albie ceased yet?”
William yanked on Oscar’s ear.
“Don’t take your anger out on me.” Oscar shoveled snow out of the path into a wheelbarrow.
William stood outside of the med bay, arms crossed. “Don’t ask invasive questions.”
“It isn’t invasive, it’s important ‘cause Albie has been a little unpleasant lately.”
“You have a way with words, Oscar.”
“You sure don’t. You barely speak ‘em.” Oscar jabbed the shovel downward and leaned against the handle. “The two of you better talk this out, if not for yourself, then for the rest of us. We’re gonna suffer Albie’s wrath.”
Yes, William had seen that. Three days ago, Charmaine stole rations from someone, snatched the food right out of his hand and walked off as if she hadn’t done it. Over the week, she snapped at nurses for mundane issues, being too slow, too loud, or getting in the way. Medical wasn’t busy by any means, mostly minor wounds from bored and idiotic soldiers. There was no reason to be hasty, but Charmaine buzzed with unrivaled energy.
Her actions put him on edge, although they may have had to do with their fight. They had never gotten into an argument before. The evening they fought, she wasn’t in their tent and he hadn’t searched for her. Especially after what happened at dinner, the ostracized soldier was a harsh reminder of William’s foolish decisions. He would be in that same position if the wrong person discovered what he had done with Nicholas.
Somehow, Charmaine could tell that he spent time with Nicholas. He could have told her, should have, but Nicholas was his shame. A time he would rather not admit to another lest they judge his horrible decisions and potentially harm or kill him. He hadn’t a clue how to remedy the situation. If he apologized, Charmaine would ask questions, so he had to be honest, and that terrified him.
What honesty could William give? He didn’t understand this hunger, either. To put it simply, he was horny and Nicholas offered. To make it more complicated, he enjoyed the danger of it and needed it to survive out here. Charmaine may not believe that. She probably wouldn’t understand. William hardly understood. Not speaking to her again terrified him more than admitting how fucked up he felt.
“How did ya manage to piss Albie off, anyway?” Oscar squinted like he could get an answer from the snow flurries. “Albie is the nicest guy I’ve ever met.”
“How are you certain Albie didn’t piss me off?”
Oscar laughed, then hiccuped at William’s death glare.
“Speak your mind, Oscar,” William hissed.
“I ain’t sayin’ a damn thing.” Oscar returned to shoveling and hastily moved along the walkaway far, far from William.
Oscar was right. Charmaine did not anger easily. At this rate, they wouldn’t speak for some time. William wanted his friend back. If that meant admitting his mistakes, then he had to be willing to do so. Which was much easier said than done. His stomach churned. If he had eaten breakfast, he may have thrown it up from nerves.
Taking a long breath through his nostrils, he entered the medical tent. Charmaine sat at the bedside of one of the soldiers suffering from a fever. Crowded like this in the glacial weather, viruses clung no matter what anyone did. Some nurses suffered from those same colds, resulting in Charmaine being there to make up for those who needed rest. William settled by Charmaine, hands clutched behind his back. “May I speak with you?”
Charmaine dabbed the sweat from the soldier’s brow, refusing to look up. Her right eye twitched. A vein throbbed in her temple. Irritability had plagued her since their capture, since that damned wound, the bruise. Something was amiss, but he hadn’t figured out what.
“Depends on what you want to speak about,” she finally replied.
“Do you still suffer from headaches?”
Her jaw moved side to side.
“Come here.” He grasped her hand.
Charmaine grumbled, but allowed William to drag her to the supply tent. There was more privacy there, supposed to be, anyway. Two nurses claimed the tent for their smoke break. They jumped at the sight of Charmaine. She lectured one girl earlier, so the nurse ushered her friend outside.
“Take a seat and show me your leg,” William said, gesturing to one of the crates.
“My leg?” Charmaine asked.
“Your headaches started after the attack and you said that you have been irritable lately, so let me take a look.”
“Is that all you wished to speak about?”
“No, but I will speak more while looking over your leg, so sit.”
With a reluctant huff, Charmaine fell into the chair. William knelt and gently tugged up her pants to expose a scar, nothing more, no sign of an infection. He pushed the fabric up to Charmaine’s thigh.
“See? Nothing unusual,” she said and knocked her leg up and down to prove there was no pain, either.
William pressed a hand against her balmy skin. The Sight should reveal all. The silver strings circling Charmaine’s muscles same as always should put him at ease, but they didn’t. They felt like lies. He ran a careful finger over the strings, begging them to reveal the truth, but their light flickered and all remained as it was.
Sighing, he tugged the pant leg down. “Did you not suffer any other injury back then or recently?”
“I haven’t. You are worrying too much.”
“I would argue you are not worried enough,” he muttered. Charmaine’s hardened stare pierced the turbulent guilt at the base of his gut. He groaned. “You were right the other day, about who I have been seeing.”
“Am I also correct to assume he’s the most troublesome option there is?”
He swallowed hard. “Yes.”
“William,” she hissed. He stood with his back to her, peering outside to ensure no one listened. “That is a horrendous idea. You could be killed. You saw that man the other night, so people are on edge and probably looking for more trouble. Why would you even consider something so nonsensical?”
“Because I…” He didn’t know what to say. Feelings caught in a web of his mind, struggling to free themselves, and coming out as nothing more than a mumble, “Like you want hope for tomorrow, I want comfort. Sex gives me that, lets me forget about all of this for a few blissful moments.”
“Comfort normally doesn’t come from danger.”
“There is little danger involved.” He leaned against a crate and retrieved the ring from his pocket. Making sure they weren’t being watched, he slipped the ring on. Charmaine jolted from his disappearance, then he took off the ring to put back in his pocket. “This keeps things simple.”
“How…” she snorted, that frown changing to a humored smile. “Romantic?”
The two laughed and any tension previously there faded. This is what he wanted, what he needed. Both of them did. Their friendship was a small fire in the dead of night, not enough to battle against every sorrow, but always there and forever warm.
“I am sorry for lying and troubling you. I knew you would be concerned, that you would find this to be a horrible idea, and frankly, I thought it would be better if you weren’t involved at all. If something happened, it would only harm me,” William said.
“I don’t want that. If there is trouble for you, then there is trouble for us. That is the way it is and always will be.” Charmaine scratched her neck. “I shouldn’t have overreacted. I’m sorry. I don’t mean it as an excuse, but I truly am out of sorts of late. The other day I thought my headache was gone, but it has returned and became even worse.”
“Is that all?”
“No, I have sensitivity to smells and hunger, always so hungry. If there is a medical issue that you cannot find, maybe this is a mental one. Maybe this place has truly broken me.”
“It has broken all of us in one way or the other.” But William doubted Charmaine’s problems were mental ones. They had been through a lot. Such headaches, hunger, and irritability could be an ailment he hadn’t discovered yet. Perhaps she caught a virus. William would ask around, consult Montgomery if Charmaine offered her permission. If other soldiers suffered from similar symptoms, the camp may face an outbreak.
Before William could speak further, a nurse tugged the tent flap open. Her curious eyes fell on William. She waved to someone behind her when declaring, “He is over here, sir.”
The nurse stepped away, allowing the last person William ever expected to enter.
“Henry,” William muttered. His brother’s name felt foreign on his tongue. A lot changed in five years, for both of them. Henry, the scrawny teenager cutting himself in the mirror trying to shave what wasn’t there, had grown a beard that hugged his full cheeks. Once a lanky frame stood sturdy in the entryway, carrying wide shoulders stuffed into a dirtied uniform. William didn’t want to see any of his family in this damned uniform. It meant they weren’t safe, that they were a target, that he may not be able to protect them, that they may discover the truth of what he became.
“You got taller.” Henry chuckled with a shimmer to his autumn eyes, comforting as ever. William didn’t know what to say, although he had countless things he wanted to say.
What are you doing here?
I missed you.
Why would you come here when I’ve tried so hard for none of you to see me like this?
I wish you came sooner.
You aren’t staying, are you?
Please stay.
You have to go.
I can’t lose you.
William had at least three opportunities to visit home over the years, each of which he declined out of fear. He knew the moment he stepped through those doors, smelt his mother’s perfume and even the hated cigar smoke, he would never leave. Then his family would have questions. They would notice how he changed. They would ask what happened in subtle ways and he wouldn’t have the heart to tell them. Wouldn’t want to admit all he had been through and done, if only to avoid witnessing his mother’s tears. He wanted all of them, including himself, to believe he was the same boy who left, that he could be that person again and forget all that transpired.
“You must be Henry Vandervult. I’m Albie Tuckerton, a friend of William’s,” Charmaine said to fill the space. She approached Henry with her hand outstretched. Henry took a firm hold and smiled, all teeth and two deep dimples in his rosy cheeks.
“A pleasure to finally put a face to the name. William has mentioned you in his letters,” Henry said.
“Did he? Good things, I should hope.”
“Of course. You’re the friend we’ve all been so eager to meet. I hope once this war ends that you’d do us the honor of a visit. Our mother would be especially happy to meet you.”
Charmaine gave a nervous laugh, then cleared her throat. “I have heard dinner at the Vandervult estate is something to look forward to.”
Henry laughed. By the Souls, William had missed the sound. It nearly brought him to his knees.
“Maybe not in the way you think. We can get out of sorts, but I can promise you won’t be bored,” Henry said.
“That makes me look forward to it even more.” Charmaine glanced between the brothers, hands clasped at her waist. “As honored as I am to finally meet one of the infamous older Vandervult brothers, I’ll take my leave so you may catch up. Thank you for the invite, Henry. I will certainly take you up on it.”
Henry clapped Charmaine on the shoulder before she left. The moment she disappeared, he caught William in a hug. William knew he made the right choice to never go home. This was already too much, encased by a love so tight he ached under the crushing weight of Henry’s grasp. But he said nothing because he would rather be smothered than melancholy and aching.
Henry smelled like home. At least William thought so. He could have imagined the aroma of roses from the back garden that always filtered through the open windows. Was it spring already? Summer? Here, they only knew winter, and he had forgotten a world existed outside of ice and snow. He forgot what the garden looked like, where the flowers were and where the paths led. The information became trivial to his war rattled mind, and yet, he hated himself for dismissing the memories.
“Why wasn’t I informed about this? I heard mages from Heign’s Magical Society were coming, but certainly the generals knew who and would have informed me,” William said while struggling to keep his voice calm.
“There were a couple of changes to our arrival and I wanted my visit to be a surprise.” Henry released him and reached into the satchel he carried. “Along with these!”
Henry presented two plain books. William recognized the author when he opened the first page. The words were a blow, another piece of the past haunting him, reminding him of change he never wanted.
Henry had that sparkle in his eyes he shared when excited. “The series you loved finished. That first one is the last book, and the other is the first to a new series the same author recently started. Mother acquired the proper copies, but I thought you may want a more discreet set here.”
Romance books. William ran a finger over the title page. He read the prequels multiple times, late into the night. The parts he remembered made him cringe, laugh at the foolish boy he once was who blushed from the male lead’s suave words, and kicked his feet during the first kiss. Then grew envious of the love freely shared, of the boy who believed in this nonsense and dreamed of a similar future.
“If I’m recalling correctly, you are the one who said these books are unbefitting of men, that it isn’t the way of things,” William countered.
“And yet that never stopped you.”
“It should have. You were right.” William slipped. He hadn’t meant to. The words released in a breath he didn’t consent to give, and now Henry caught him, the one brother that would notice instantly.
Arthur may have taken after their father in terms of politics and Richard could charm, but Henry earned his position as a mage’s apprentice at a young age for a reason; observation. Always watching, always listening, always deciphering everything like a puzzle, figuratively and literally. William had a love for books while Henry loved puzzles, often buying odd ones from the market that came from across the sea. Henry spent hours, days, even weeks putting the puzzles together. When completed, he strutted through the estate with such confidence the boys teased him for it, of course. William had become one of those puzzles, and Henry didn’t like giving up.
“Is this why you’ve been avoiding us?” Henry didn’t sugarcoat his words. They sounded as hurt as William felt.
“Avoiding is a bit harsh.”
“Harsh but true. Five years is a long time and I’ve met many in the military who served less time than you and earned visitation. At least before our troops crossed the sea. One needn’t think long to decipher what you are doing, although,” Henry hesitated, eyes more despaired than William had ever witnessed. “Maybe you made the right choice, no matter how much it pains me to say so.”
William’s knuckles whitened against the book spines. “What makes you say that?”
“Mother was in hysterics for the first six months after you left. I doubt she spoke of that in her letters.”
No. Matilda’s letters were always cordial, written in her elegant slanted writing and speaking of home. How terribly she missed William, and that everything would be alright, that he would survive, he would come home, then everything would be perfect, as it always should have been. In the beginning, William slept with the letters clutched to his chest. He believed in her promises, but only now did he think she made a promise for the both of them. She made wishes for the both of them in every letter.
“She slept in your room, and wouldn’t come out for anything,” Henry added. A slight tremble caught in his breath. “Father had to call upon mages to get her to eat. She cried and screamed and begged Father to speak to the king, to shut down the charities if it pleased His Majesty, or send her in your stead. Eventually, time led her to come out, but she isn’t the same either, William. A part of her left with you and I don’t think it will return until you do. But had you visited, I doubt she’d have managed to watch you leave again.”
William couldn’t imagine his mother in such a state. Even when his grandparents died, Matilda told jokes at the funeral with tears in her eyes. People laughed and spun tales that made most unsure if they cried from sorrow or joy. William was too young to understand what happened, but he understood that his mother always had an air of joy about her. She spun sorrowful moments into comfortable ones, to ease the suffering of others.
To think she didn’t for so long, that she laid about in his room crying and knowing he was doing the same during recruitment. Every night he laid there wishing to be home. He begged his family to save him when the pain became too great, when his heart shattered and he was left alone with the broken pieces.
He released a strangled breath Henry didn’t speak on. Instead, Henry said, “Arthur and Richard didn’t speak to Father for two years, either.”
William choked. “What? Why?”
“Because they were upset, all of us were. None of us wished to worry you, so they kept it together until your enlistment. Arthur and Richard believed Father should have done more, that he shouldn’t have accepted the punishment. They went to King Ellis requesting one of us be sent instead. Richard was shot down instantly, of course.”
“The fool has a heart condition. He cannot serve. It was a foolish thing to do,” William muttered, even if he loved the thought of Richard marching into the throne room red faced and demanding. He would be the one gaudy enough to make such an attempt.
Arthur, though? He had always been the responsible one, poised, held together with the toughest mortar. His rebellion held surprise and made William love him all the more, made him miss his brothers all the more. They could be a rambunctious and tedious lot, but they were William’s rambunctious and tedious lot. He’d have them no other way.
“Since the decision had been made, we were told you would be labeled a deserter if we dared to try anything,” Henry explained. “I thought of joining so you’d at least have someone with you, but after Mother fell apart, I took time away from schooling. I kept to the estate to give her more company, and it helped, to an extent. She certainly wouldn’t have coped with the possibility of losing two children, and now here we are.”
“Here we are,” William repeated. He set the books aside, then clasped his fingers tightly behind his back. They did little to ease the feelings threatening to spill over. Every wall he built cracked under Henry’s attention and at the sound of his voice. “Are they… angry with me for not coming home?”
Henry snorted. “When have any of us been angry with you? It’s truly unfair how the youngest sibling gets away with everything. Everyone misses you. The house isn’t the same. It’s too quiet and there aren’t enough books on the floor to trip over. I’ve considered stacking a few by the corners purely for the feel of stubbing my toes.”
William chuckled, and it felt real, right, normal.
“We want to be a family again and you have new family to meet,” Henry said.
“So I’ve heard.”
“Luckily, your niece looks like her mother.”
William smiled, genuine and nearly painful. “Don’t let Arthur hear you say that.”
“Oh, that isn’t my job.”
“It’s Richard’s,” they said in unison, and William hadn’t realized how much he truly missed laughing with his brothers until they grasped it again. Those chuckles faded when William whimpered a breath that he desperately tried to strangle. He wanted to savor this moment and the touch of Henry’s hand clutching his shoulder. A hold of desperation, one that spoke more than words ever could.
“I have come with the Grand Mages to speak with the generals. We’ve been working tirelessly over the years hoping to discover anything that could be of help, and we’ve done it. Truly, William, we…” Henry cast a suspicious glance over William’s shoulder, then tugged his brother closer. “You cannot share this with anyone, not even your friend. We have discovered a way to momentarily close Shimmers.”
William feared hope but any could hear it in his words, “I thought that was impossible.”
“As I said, it is momentary, nearly ten minutes of time. I know that sounds little, but it could be enough to stop Fearworn from running, to trap him somewhere he feels safest. There is a shade among your ranks, is there not? With this, he may be able to be rid of Fearworn once and for all. Do you understand, William?”
He clutched Henry’s wrist like a lifeline, another string of hope that felt stronger than ever. If he tugged, if he held fast, maybe the lifeline would take him home.
“I truly do believe this war is coming to an end.” Henry settled their foreheads together, eyes closed and lips set into a hopeful grin. “You will come home and we will all be together again.”
That’s all William wished for. An end to the war, going home to pretend this never happened. But deep down, he couldn’t imagine how he could be happy after all he had seen, all he had done, and all that had been done to him. In truth, William couldn’t imagine a future. Children carried dreams. He had many before the war. He spent more days than he could count imagining his future as he clutched a book to his chest. Some afternoons, when he was feeling brave, that young boy envisioned himself ridiculously in love, living with a sweet and funny man on a small piece of property where they spent their days enjoying each other’s company. Other days, he saw himself becoming a renowned author sitting in a high booth, watching his stories come to life on stage, even if he lived alone, without a lover. He went to all the parties in high society, adored by the masses for the tales he wove.
But William hadn’t pictured the future for many years. The one time he dared ended with Hugh’s death, which is how he always thought this war would end. Of course, he hoped. Of course, he wanted to return home, but deep down, William didn’t see life after the war. He saw pain and death. He saw himself broken beyond repair, like the many men he had come across over the years. He saw the war ending and his life ending with it. Nothing more.
“Will you not be staying long, then?” William asked after Henry stepped aside.
“A week, at the most. I barely secured a position on this trip. King Ellis hasn’t allowed any traveling to the Krenia Kingdom that aren’t military personnel for the last two years, which so happened to be when my instructors decided I had enough experience for field work.” Henry rolled his eyes. “Then this opportunity came along and my superiors were offered to bring the good news first.”
“How did you manage to slip in?”
“One of the Grand Mages is a bit obsessive over cleanliness, so I spoke of how dirty it would be here until he panicked and offered me a place in his stead. We wouldn’t want him to panic over here.”
William smirked. “Oh yes, how noble of you.”
“I would have to agree. Now, why don’t you show me where the food is? I’m famished.”
“I fear you will still be famished after we eat.” William gestured for Henry to follow him out of the tent.
They spent the evening together sharing stories. Henry never pushed for more details, although William knew his brother filed away every word, tone, and movement. He’d unravel every thread because that’s how his mind worked.
When the evening grew late, Henry took to the tent set up for him and his colleagues. William lay awake most of the night worrying, paranoid there would be an attack, that he’d find Henry’s corpse among the rubble. Though he had been happy to see his brother, comforted by his mirth and stories, William wanted the week to end. Then Henry would go home. He would be safe. He would never see what William did, would never know war, and never learn what William was willing to do to survive.