Sandra Hill (29 page)

Finally, she stuck with the age-old “God helps those who help themselves.” There was naught they could say to that.

Then everything changed when a group of ten nuns came riding into the abbey courtyard. That they had passed through her father’s ranks was amazing. They were riding horses, which was a surprise in itself; most nuns had no coin for such an extravagance. But the biggest surprise was the woman leading the pack.

She wore the drab garb of a nun, except no head covering. Her hair was coal black, and her eyes a strange shade of blue. It was the nun warrior of her dreams. And she was beautiful.

Britta put a hand to her heart in shock as well as thanks. How many miracles could one person sustain in a lifetime?

But then the biggest shock of all came.

“My name is Angelique. We have come from Frankland to help you,” the woman said, loud enough for all to hear. Then she rode her horse a little farther so that she was right in front of Britta. “Greetings, Sister.”

Good-bye is the saddest word…

For two months, Zach ranted and raved and made himself and everyone around him miserable.

Not only had Arsallah and his evil cohorts gotten away, they still stirred the diplomatic pot by demanding that Sammy be returned to his native country.

Most of all, Zach was devastated by the loss of Britta. After extensive searches, there was no body, but he figured Arsallah had disposed of that, wanting there to be no connection to his evil deeds in the basement of that abandoned house. At first, he had even hoped that Arsallah had taken her back to Afghanistan to use as leverage, but he would have made mention of that by now. Zach had to accept that she was dead.

He was on leave from the SEALs, with good cause. There was no way he could focus, not even on training WEALS. Besides, the class was down to a manageable twenty now. Actually, twenty was more than had been expected to make it through the rigorous training. There would be no Britta, though, and that saddened Zach even more. She had wanted so badly to succeed in WEALS.

Sammy had been very clingy at first, but then, with the resilience of childhood, he settled into his normal routine and hardly ever mentioned the ordeal he had been through. Still, Zach knew that Sammy was worried about his grandfather Arsallah and whether he would try again.

And now his family was pulling an intervention on him. An intervention! Like he was a friggin’ addict or something. They had him trapped in his town house living room, with Sammy upstairs playing video games with Scary Larry.

His grandmother was serving them tea…tea, for Pete’s sake…using a silver tea service and bone china, both of which he hadn’t even known he had.
What is bone china anyway? Crushed bones? Yeech!
It was a scene right out of
Alice in Wonderland
. There were fancy-pancy little cookies the size of quarters she’d brought from a bakery that probably cost a dollar a piece. Danny was flicking them into his mouth like popcorn.

His mother and father, divorced almost twenty years, were glaring at each other. They made
The War of the Roses
look like kindergarten.

“Shape up, boy,” his grandfather said after putting his teacup down. “Everybody loses someone sometime. Get yourself a new assignment. Lose yourself in work. Uncle Sam needs you.”

Yada, yada, yada.
He’d heard this spiel a dozen times.

His grandmother gaped at his grandfather as if he’d sprouted two heads. “Nonsense. He needs time to grieve. He may never get over the girl, but in the meantime he must think about Sammy and move on.”

I wonder if there’s any beer left in the fridge.

His mother, romantic that she was, despite having been two-timed by his father numerous times, sighed. “It’s just a shame that you had to find the woman of your dreams, only to lose her. Do you think a person can have two loves?” The latter she addressed to her ex-mother-in-law, his grandmother.

Is that a push-up bra my mother’s wearing? No, no, no, I am not noticing my mother’s assets.

“Of course,” his grandmother replied.

Geez, grandma looks good for her age, too. How old is she now? Seventy-five? No, seventy-six. Wonder if she’s had a face-lift? Hah! Who am I kidding? Everyone in my family has probably had plastic surgery, except my grandfather.

“Come to Hollywood with me,” his dad offered. “You and Sammy can stay in the guesthouse. I’ll introduce you to some women who’ll make you forget your own name, let alone a woman you only knew for a few weeks. Hey, I know. Lori, my housekeeper on
Light in the Storm
, is between husbands, and she used to be a Playboy bunny.” His dad leered at Zach, something a grown man did not want his father to do.

Are you kidding? I’ve seen Lori. She might have been a Playmate, but it must have been thirty years ago. Besides, I’m not into silicone.

Everyone glared at his father for his insensitivity.

“Isn’t that just like you, Victor?” His mother sneered. “Thinking with your zipper as usual.”

Oh, boy, here we go.

“Maybe if you’d paid more attention to my zipper, we wouldn’t be divorced.”

This is just like watching a Ping-Pong match. Duel of the divorcees.

“Grow up, Victor. You’re not sixteen anymore. And, by the way, your hair looks silly with those gray streaks.”

I was thinkin’ that myself.

“You know what’s silly, Lillian? You. Modeling for that geezer magazine. If that’s what acting my age is all about, no thank you.”

I think her new career change is cool.

The two of them were practically shaking with anger. A minute more of this, and they’d be clawing each other’s carefully made-up faces. Really, there was a reason why his mother and father were rarely in the same room together, and they were just witnessing it.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Zach stood, then sat down on the couch between the two of them. “This is accomplishing nothing.”

“I hate to say it, but Dad has a point.” Great. Danny was joining the other side. “You need to get laid.”

I do not believe he said that in front of our parents and grandparents.
“You think the answer to everything is sex.”

His father, Danny, and Cage and Sly, who were leaning against the wall, all looked at him as if he was crazy. His mother, grandmother, and grandfather all got into a tsk-ing match.

“Seriously, Zach,” Cage said to him. “Britta is gone. Accept that, buddy.”

He hesitated, then nodded. “This whole freakin’ intervention crap is ridiculous…and unnecessary. I’m already making plans to move on.”

“Uh-oh,” Sly said.

“I’m quitting the teams.” He put up a hand to halt the protests that erupted. “I’m selling the town house. And I’m going into hiding with Sammy.”

“Where?” his mother wanted to know.

“I can’t say.”

“What do you mean, you can’t say?” His grandmother’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. Then she turned and glowered at his grandfather. “Did you have something to do with this?”

His grandfather’s cheeks flushed, but he raised his chin. “Zach asked for my advice. This isn’t what I would recommend, but if it’s what he wants, I can point him to the right people for help.”

Pandemonium broke loose, everyone talking at once.

“Hear me out, people. I’m leaving. Until Arsallah is out of the picture—and I mean dead—I can’t give Sammy a normal life. And he deserves that. So we’re going to disappear.”

“Will we see you sometimes? Can we call?” his mother asked.

He shook his head. “Cold turkey.”

“For how long?” His father’s voice was cold with disapproval.

“As long as it takes.”

“Years?” His mother looked as if she was going to cry.

“I hope not, but yes, maybe it will be a long time.”

“When are you leaving?” Danny’s face was expressionless, but he was clearly upset. He would talk to him later.

He couldn’t tell them that it would be in a mere three days. Otherwise, there would be a flurry of suspicious activity around his house. They wouldn’t be able to stay away.

So he just shrugged.

Later, he told Sammy of his plans.

The boy was frightened, but more frightened of losing him than losing a familiar home. He became more enthused once Zach mentioned all the things they would be able to do together in the downtime till he found a new job…or they were able to return, whichever came first.

Before they went downstairs, though, Sammy tugged on his arm to stop him. “Does…does this mean Britta is dead?”

Zach closed his eyes briefly. “Yes. Yes, she is, Sammy.”

Sammy gulped, probably having already suspected the worst. “Now can I tell you what she said?”

Bracing himself, he said, “Sure.”

“She said, if she didn’t make it back, I should tell you,” he slipped his hand in Zach’s, “that she loves you.”

It was probably the worst moment of Zach’s life.

Who says medieval ladies didn’t have balls?…

Britta and Angelique got along like…well, sisters.

Turns out that their mutual father, whilst on a trip to Frankland some twenty-three years past, went into the Frankish countryside where he raped a number of women, including Angelique’s mother. Like Britta, Angelique had trained to become a warrior, but unlike Britta, she had trained to be a nun as well.

While Britta had reason to want her father dead, Angelique had even more. Not only had he planted his seed in her mother, but he’d also planted a disease in her nether parts…a disease that led to her death at the age of fifteen. Angelique’s life had been hard, to say the least, but Britta loved her already for her wonderful sense of humor despite her travails.

“So, you are like Boudicca?” Britta asked her as they sat on a stone wall surrounding the abbey courtyard. They were both panting and sweating, having just completed some swordplay. “That’s not very nunlike, is it?”

Angelique grinned as she wiped her forehead with the sleeve of her gunna. “We are a different breed of nuns…nuns who enjoy the bedsport.”

Britta’s eyes went wide.

“Do not look so shocked. Are you a virgin?”

“Well, nay, but—”

Angelique wagged a forefinger at her. “Judge not, lest ye be judged.” She grinned as she spoke. “In truth, I am not really a nun. ’Tis a disguise that has worked well for me and my followers.”

Britta laughed and slapped the forefinger out of her face. “I was not judging, and you well know it. I was just surprised. But, believe you me, I know how to wipe that smirk from your face, Sister.”

A short time later, Angelique’s jaw dropped nigh to her bosom. “Multiple orgasms? Clits? You jest with me?”

“’Tis no jest. The women of our time are being cheated.”

“Our time?”

“Let us save that story for later.”

“One last thing. Was it some special man who taught you these things?”

“Yea, but he is far, far away, and we will ne’er meet again.” Leastways, Britta did not think they would meet again. “Let us speak of our battle plan instead of lost loves.”

“I like your idea of gorilla warfare, though I ne’er heard that word afore. Nor ‘Look and See,’ ‘Growl and Prowl,’ ‘Escape and Evade,’ ‘double-backs.’”

“We must needs take the advantage out of our father’s hands. We will choose the site where the fight will take place. He has left the area, but he will return.”

So it was that two sennights later, several aged nuns went begging alms to one of her father’s Northumbrian keeps; he had several here and in the Norselands, and still he wanted hers. The aged nuns were performing their own lackwit version of ‘Look and See.’ Whilst there, spying, they spoke of a nunnery in Northumbria where they had stayed overnight…a nunnery where two sisters, Britta the Big and Angelique of Frankland, were plotting the takeover of some castle or other owned by their father. “Is that not odd?” Sister Clementina inquired through rheumy eyes. “Women fighters?”

“And they with only slingshots and broomsticks for weapons,” Sister Mary added, also blinking her rheumy eyes in innocence. “And they will be leaving the abbey grounds as they march to battle. Imagine!”

The men in the great hall guffawed and made coarse jests, even in the presence of the good nuns.

The two nuns reported back to the abbey that even before they had left the bailey, men-at-arms were being called forth. A small band because, as her father had remarked, “How many men does it take to topple a few lackbrained women?”

A sennight later, her father’s small hird of ten men on horseback, including himself and his three sons, was on the move. When they were several hides from the abbey, Britta and Angelique’s band surrounded the two forward outriders and offered them the opportunity to surrender. The men laughed and attacked. A mistake. The women soon hid the severely wounded bodies and rushed away from the scene. Escape and Evade.