Disclaimer: Star Trek and its characters are the sole property of Paramount/Viacom. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

Pairing: Uber J/7

 

Content:  This story depicts loving f/f relationships. If you are under 18, or this is illegal in your area, please exit. 

 

Rated R for adult themes, and violence.

 

Note: Many thanks to L.C.

 

mailto:XanLavi@hotmail.com

 

 

 

Red Dust

 

By Xan

 

Part II

 

 

 

 

 

Dust Storm

 

Most people hold a light of warmth for their place of birth. Buildings may crack and tumble to the ground, but the rubble left behind is cherished, loved like the image of a dearly departed grandmother. People may be cold, cruel even, but they’re your people and you love them in spite of their careless ways.

 

Faith felt no such affinity. Irving was as dead to her as the clouds of red dust rising up to coat the carriage. Through the barred window, the parched earth glowed beneath hazy gaslights, lending a surreal effect to hunched figures darting in and out of shops.

 

Desperate faces peered from windows of homes with red crosses painted over the doors. Even the rats scurried forth under a foul blowing wind-that is until many of their numbers fell over dead in the street. 

 

“Welcome back.” Billy crouched beside her, pressing his face against the bars. 

 

“You did not have to come,” Faith said. They’d ridden for weeks, stopping at various inns. The Fasts were so overjoyed to have their second captive that they even allow him to drive part the way. Faith feared for him: Billy, named as her accomplice, would suffer no better fate if she failed to prove her innocence. “Do you think it strange that I grieve for Ernesta-can feel her sorrow, but I sense nothing of Meredith?”

 

She didn’t know why she asked, but Billy’s actions brought a small smile to her face when he strung a gold chain round her arm. “I found it in Meredith’s room.”

 

“You stole it.”

 

“No I didn’t. Look, it has your name on it.”

 

Dainty silver letters looped within the gold spelled her name. Faith admired it, gently stroking the tiny links. Then she gasped, and tugged at the chain. “Take it off. Take it off!”

 

“What wrong?” Billy unhooked the clasp and stuck the chain in his pocket.”

 

“Something is wrong.” Faith rubbed her wrist, further irritating the reddening skin. “I felt something, Billy. I felt her.”

 

Before she could offer more of an explanation, the carriage halted. Gregor had jumped out and opened the doors.

 

“We’re here,” he said quietly. 

 

Billy hopped out first and was about to help Faith down when Austin cupped his neck. The Lieutenant’s strong fingers dug into Billy’s skin, making him yelp like a pup. “What?”

 

“Go on home, boy.” Austin stared him down. “See to your father. We’ll take Faith from here.”

 

“But I thought-”

 

“The warrant for you is as false as the documents Faith gave us. It’s your Pa wanting you back. Go on now.”

 

“Billy?” Faith’s voice came almost as a plea. She leaned out of the carriage, and when he scrambled toward her, she kissed his cheek.

 

“I’ll come back later tonight. Bring you some real food,” Billy whispered in her ear. Then, with the light touch of a practiced thief, he slipped Meredith’s bracelet into the pocket of her robe.

 

“Farewell.” Gregor came over to shake Billy’s hand.

 

“Better put her in a clean cell, or I’ll come back for you, Greggie.”

 

“It’s our duty to only drop her off, but I’ll make sure she is cared for.”

 

“See that you do, buddy.” Billy waved to Faith, though her back was to him as Austin escorted her inside the Village Jail.

 

Sensing his gaze, Faith turned at the door, fear showing in her eyes for the first time since their long journey. She held up her hands in the Sister’s farewell, believing Billy to now be as lost to her as Meredith. 

 

 

*** 

 

Irving Prison. It was more like the jail of a small one-horse town: Seedy and small. The Irving lockup had a drunk tank which Faith was sure Billy had been well acquainted with. Across from it stood a room sealed off with chicken wire. It contained the personal effects of prisoners.

 

For a moment, Faith had the sinking feeling that she would be made to strip under the lecherous gaze of the officers now eyeing her with frank curiosity. She vowed to break the arm of the first man stupid enough to touch her.

 

The sleepy Desk Sergeant-sensing an impending brawl- stirred from his chair. “Get Petra Fast up here to take this young woman to the hold.”

 

The officers hesitated until one of them finally had sense enough to scurry toward a back room. Ten minutes later, a grumpy Petra clad in bedclothes entered. She possessed one of the vilest tongues Faith had ever heard, at least coming from a woman.

 

Petra stared Faith down, then up, which wasn’t easy since she was a good four inches shorter. Petra threw an orange suit of clothes at Faith, and virtually growled: “Follow me.” Then she muttered, “Damn ingrates. Wake me up in the middle of the freakin’ night. Don’t get to see my brother, father. Nobody gives a…”

 

This foul prattling went on the whole time they descended a steep staircase leading to what Faith could only think of as hell. Irving was hot in spring, but in summer, it smoked like bacon. And the basement of this hellish structure, instead of being cool, sizzled. It stank of oppressive heat, urine and other smells Faith couldn’t quite make out.

 

Petra marched over to a recessed corner. “Strip,” she said, snapping on a pair of white gloves.  

 

Faith glared at the swarthy girl, and tamped down the urge to pull out a handful of the thick raven locks on her head. This couldn’t be Austin’s child. Petra bore no resemblance to the man or his son. Her eyes flashed danger, and a willingness to strike, whereas her kinfolk were gentle as lambs.

 

“Did you hear me, you murdering scum?” Petra leaned on a bar anchored to the wall.

 

Faith thought it was a prop for ballet artists eager to stretch their limbs, but a glance at the crude table containing a bottle of rancid oil and packs of rough tissues told her otherwise. Faith crossed her arms over her bosom: She would bend for no one.

 

“Your father and brother both wish me to convey their regards,” Faith said. “They worry for your health.”

 

“And why is that?” Petra spat.

 

“We have fever in Greenford too, but not as pernicious as Irving. Still…”

 

Petra’s eyes widened. “Shit! I don’t care what Sergeant Craig wants. I’m not touching you.”

 

“It is a logical and most pleasant decision for us both.”

 

Faith calmly took off her robe. Then she removed the yellow dress she’d prized so much. The fancy dress in itself had meant little to her, but it was the only thing she had left of Meredith. She glanced at Petra, whose eyes seemed to be as entranced with her body as Meredith’s had been, but they held none of the gentle craving, the sweet passion. Faith knew this woman would take her with careless ease if given the chance.

 

“Put the damned things on already!” Petra barked. She waited until Faith donned the coarse orange trousers and smock. Then she pushed her toward an opened cell. “You sleep here tonight, and every night until they finally slice off you head.”

 

Faith didn’t bother to say that she was innocent. She walked into the dank cell and closed the door. Petra didn’t move. “Do want me to lock it too?” Faith asked.

 

“Dad and Gregor must have had some time hauling your ass cross country.” She violently shook Faith’s clothes as if expecting hidden vermin to jump out at her. A gold bracelet fell to the floor instead. “What’s this?”

 

“Jewelry,” Faith said in the manner one would to a particularly dull child.

 

“Nice. I think I’ll keep it safe for you. And I’ll need the other one you’re wearing,” she said, indicating the Sister Chain Faith wore.

 

Before Petra could slip the delicate bracelet on her slender wrist, Faith reached out and snatched it from her hands. Then she pushed the girl, causing her to stumble back a few steps. “Either lock this door, or kill me.” Faith glared at the girl.

 

“You little bi-”

 

“Shush!” Faith ordered. She cocked her ear, listening to heavy groans and strangled gasps coming from the cell next door. “This person is in great pain.”

 

“Well, they ain’t making love, sweetie.”

 

“Surely you must have medicine for them?”

 

“I don’t have anything to cure what she’s got.” Petra jerked her thumb at the heavy wood door of the adjacent cell. “Besides, I’m nobody’s nursemaid.”

 

“Then get the medicine and let me do it.”

 

Petra touched the club hanging from her belt, then thought better of conking her meddlesome prisoner over the head. If this loon wanted to play healer, then far be it from her to complain.  “Suit yourself.”

 

While Petra went off to fetch the medicine, Faith made her way to the other cell. She peered in the barred window of the door and saw the distinct signs of bubonic plague.

 

***

 

Faith learned quickly that the Irving lockup was no place to be if you were destitute and alone in the world. Meals, or what was loosely regarded as such, were served once a day to inmates. If your belly yearned for more, then it was up to relatives and friends to feed your hunger. Faith’s new cellmate, the elder Sister Anna, had neither friends nor family. None but I, Faith thought.

 

Sister Anna- the last of the holy women in Irving-had lain in her own filth along with a coating of Irving’s rich dust until that fateful night when Faith had entered her cell. When asked her crime, “Compassion,” was all Anna had said.

 

“Sit up for me, Sister. We must start again.” Faith said. She grabbed a bottle of antiseptic, essence of various herbs, and her own preparation of the serum Billy had thoughtfully stolen before leaving Irving.

 

A week before, she’d lanced the Sister’s buboes with a sharp kitchen knife, cleaned and dressed the wounds. At first, Faith winced in pain with every groan from Sister Anna, but thereafter, she struck down all pity in her heart to do what must be done. “First: do no harm,” Meredith had warned her. What possible harm could be done?  Faith reasoned the Sister would die anyway. Best to try…

 

“You’re torturing her,” said Petra. Nevertheless, she drew near the open cell, keenly anticipating Faith’s needs by handing her bandages and salve.

 

Petra had become as much as curiosity to Faith as she was to the brooding young woman. Though ornery and foulmouthed, she knew enough to keep her cursing to a minimum, or at least let go with a few unladylike phrases in her native Spanish around the Sisters.

 

“More laudanum,” Faith ordered. She watched her jailer bound out of the cell and up the stairs, without bothering to lock them in. When Faith had questioned her about this practice, she’d said, “She ain’t going anywhere,” indicating Sister Anna, “And if you try it, I’ll shoot you.”

 

“No more of that stuff.” Sister Anna weakly clutched Faith’s wrist and her hand fell upon the gold and silver chain. “This isn’t from our Order. Why do you wear it?”

 

Faith regarded her former teacher before answering. It had been strictly forbidden for the Sisters to wear jewelry other than that given by the Order. How could she look into her elder’s eyes and tell her of a love she barely understood herself. How Meredith had snuck deep into her heart and stolen it? Faith turned away, and began packing up her medicines.

 

“Oh,” was all Sister Anna said.   

 

“It is not what you think.” Or would understand.

 

“Hello, ladies.”

 

Faith lifted her mind from its cloudy depression when Billy rapped on the window. She smiled because he had to lay on his belly in the dirt to look down into their cell. Because of him, she’d never bothered to close the shutters unless dressing or tending to Anna’s health. This gesture made Billy more determined to avoid entering the jail to visit. “Only for meals,” he had said on one occasion. “We can talk as long as we want if I’m outside.”   

 

Faith opened the window, and he snaked a hand through the bars to touch her cheek. “Hey, Sister,” he called to Anna.

 

“Billy Hager, I have always thought you an awful boy.” She sniffed, and said, “I still do.”

 

“Ham and butter beans tonight, Sister.” Billy winked when Anna grudgingly smiled up at him. “Is the Shrew of Irving around?”

 

“Petra went for more laudanum,” said Faith.

 

“I tell you I don’t wish to sleep!” Anna gave them both a withering look. Then she turned away-her way of giving them the illusion of privacy. Apparently, she thought Billy was the sweetheart that came with the lovely bracelet on Faith’s arm.

 

Faith knew she should go to the other cell to speak with Billy, but after arguing with Petra for hours to stay with Anna, she decided not to tempt fate. “How is your father?”

 

“I see you’re wearing the bracelet,” said Billy, rudely avoiding the topic altogether. “The rash is gone.”

 

“She forgave me.”  For what, Faith didn’t know, but Meredith’s spirit was quiet now. On a higher plane, Faith thought.

 

Billy frowned as always when mention of otherworldly beliefs came his way. “I tried to get a message out to Malcolm, but the mail boats aren’t running. The water is like a ghost town, Faith. Not a ship in sight.”

 

“You must not trouble him.”

 

“Shackler is going around pointing the finger-he even said you tried to poison him.”

 

“I know enough about herbs than to try to poison someone,” she said. “I would succeed!”

 

Billy laughed, though she was deadly serious. Faith took his hands, which were surprisingly clean, even his nails were trimmed. His father’s doing, she thought. “You must promise me that you will do nothing to interfere.”

 

“I won’t,” he lied; lock pick and Derringer already burning a hole in his pocket. “I’ll wait for Irving justice.”  

 

“Ha!” Anna stirred from her daydream. “You’ll be my age before that happens.”

 

“Billy, you must go. I hear Petra on the stairs,” Faith cautioned. “Before you come tonight, be sure to pack some dark chocolate.”

 

“Why?  Gonna seduce Petra into acting human?”

 

“I would not know how.”

 

Billy blushed. He often forgot the beautiful creature’s innocence. To see her under the weak lights in this grim place, men would still fall at her feet-hell he would if he were inclined that way. “Pity you don’t have a brother,” he said, grinning at the look of confusion on her face. “So, what’s the chocolate for?”

 

“It will fortify Sister Anna’s spirits.”

 

“I’ll bet.” He gave Faith a slight wave of the fingers reminiscent of a toddler’s good-bye. “You two girls keep out of trouble, okay?” Then he boosted himself up from the hard ground, and not bothering to brush off his dusty clothes, he climbed the fence and was gone.

 

“What about my spirits?” Anna tugged on the hem of Faith’s pants-a request to sit with her on the bed.

 

Faith had long known of Anna’s forays to the Order House’s kitchen for a little fortification.  At evening supper, the Sister would inform everyone that she was in need of more milk, but Faith knew better. “It is a dark chocolate. You will like it.”

 

“Ah.” Sister Anna laid her head on Faith’s bosom and promptly fell asleep.

 

***

 

“Your Sister’s going home tomorrow.” Petra took the last drag on her hand rolled smoke before tossing the butt to the ground.

 

The sun beat down with a fierce vengeance today forcing Faith to move into the little shade there was in the prison courtyard. Why Petra had insisted on lingering in the heat, escaped Faith, but she saw this as an opportunity to find out more about Sister Anna’s case:

 

“What was her crime?”

 

“Well, it wasn’t murder,” Petra sneered, “but it was close. She clocked a few soldiers on the head with a bed warmer.”

 

Faith could see her small elder attacking the soldiers, swinging the iron weapon through the streets like a truncheon. “Why?”

 

“The guys were just doing their job. Guess she thought they were too rough when they tried to drag the dead out of their homes.”

 

“Was it fever?”

 

“Yes. Speaking of which- you saved the old girl’s hide. I passed that tidbit onto Judge Ramon. Maybe they’ll let you live a little longer.”

 

“Why do you insist on keeping my company if you consider me a murderer?”

Petra started on another smoke. “I’m bored, and you’re pretty enough.”

 

Faith blushed and turned away.

 

Petra threw back her head and laughed. “No wonder Shackler was hot to get you.”

 

Faith cringed at the mention of the snake’s name. “Why are you helping me?”

 

“I’m next on your list for a shot.” She pressed Faith’s hand to her forehead. It was hot and clammy.

 

“We will begin tomorrow.” Faith relaxed, for now she knew what Petra was about-or at least what Petra wanted her to know. The girl had strong defenses. Strong like Meredith.

 

Faith cast off the gloomy thought when she spotted Billy coming toward them. She tried her best to discreetly wave him away.

 

Petra snorted. “Think I don’t know that boy’s been hopping the fence? Call him over. I won’t bite.”

 

Bite who?  Faith called Billy anyway. He had hesitated upon seeing Petra, and threw up his hands to show he was unarmed. When Petra nodded, he jumped the fence.

 

“You’ve got two minutes, lover boy,” Petra headed for the archway leading to the jail’s back entrance.

 

***

 

“I forbid you!”

 

“Sorry, the letter’s already on its way.” Billy hunched over in a squat, pulling up sun burnt blades of grass. “One of my drinking buddies got a schooner. He’s heading out to the mail boat now.”

 

“Stop him.”

 

“How?”

 

“Swim if you have to.”

 

“Faith,” Billy rose, and grabbed her by the shoulders, “they’re building a scaffold in the Square, and I think it’s for you.”

 

“You cannot be sure of that.” Faith searched his eyes, and saw only chill certainty. Petra would have told her. No. Petra has yet to get her inoculation.

 

“You and Sis Anna are the only women inside. I checked Faith-the men are mostly looters and rowdy boys.”

 

“Then-”

 

“Yes,” Billy said. “We can hop the fence now, or I’ll come get you tonight.”

 

Faith shook her head. She wanted to go with him, but if caught he would hang alongside her. She wavered. Then moved; one leap and over. Freedom.

 

Petra made the decision for her by reappearing in the courtyard.

 

“I cannot,” Faith whispered. She followed Petra back into the basement, preparing her mind for Irving’s mockery of a trial-if Irving still believed in trials.

 

***

 

Billy’s letter arrived in Greenford, but Malcolm was not there to receive it.

 

“You can’t just walk onto the pier,” he said, grabbing Meredith by the arm. “They will shoot you.”

 

“Not if we shoot them first.”

 

Meredith stood on the deck of the Stuart, hands lazily dangling over the rail. She looked down at the Irving soldiers, who were in firing squad formation, one row down on their knees, the other standing. All had trained their rifles on the ship.

 

“Howard.” Meredith glanced over her shoulder at the first mate. “How good is your aim these days?”

 

A grin split Howard’s face. “Oh! Can I really?”

 

“Yes,” Meredith replied. “Pick a big target.”

 

The more experienced of the soldiers began to shift nervously on the pier when they spied the crew of The Stuart covering their ears.

 

Howard fired off the canon. The lighthouse exploded in dazzling colors, sparking up the night sky.

 

Meredith groaned. “I often forget: that boy doesn’t always think.” Nonetheless, she gave him a thumb’s up.

 

“I will make the necessary financial arrangements.” Malcolm sighed. “Their Lieutenant is approaching, and Shackler is in tow.”

 

“Show the good Lieutenant to my quarters-we’ll have tea.”

“And Shackler?” Malcolm asked.

 

“If he dares to board, throw him in the sea.”

 

***

 

Shackler never made it aboard The Stuart, but he was allowed in to see Faith. When he entered the lockup, he purposefully failed to mention that Meredith was docked with two ships full of Greenford’s finest soldiers. 

 

Faith thought Shackler a dangerous mixture of man: prideful and insecure. “I am not allowed visitors,” she said, letting him know exactly how she felt about his presence.

 

“Billy Hager isn’t a visitor?”

 

“He is family. He brings my meals.”

 

Shackler looked down, thoroughly ashamed for failing to bring a gift. “Listen Faith, I’m a very wealthy man. All you have to do is agree to our marriage and you’re out of here.”

 

“I will take my chances in court.”

 

“Do you think it was the Court that released Sister Anna?”

 

Faith gave him a look of disgust. She now wished she had taken Billy up on his escape plan. At least she wouldn’t be in Shackler’s company now. “How is Sister Anna faring?”

 

“I wouldn’t worry about her if I were you.” Shackler frowned. It pained his vanity to lose what he considered one of his possessions, and this girl was a frustrating possession indeed. “Think of the Order, Faith. It would take very little on my part to secure new novices for Anna to train. I could bring her to the Southlands with us.”

 

“It is time for my Evening Prayers.”

 

“Shall I pray with you?”

 

“You would not want to hear my prayers, George Shackler.”

 

“Like the lady says, time’s up.” Petra pointed to the stairs, and waited until Shackler slithered out before addressing Faith. “He’s blackmailing you, isn’t he?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“So, you didn’t…”

 

“No.”

 

“I have something better than Evening Prayers for you, Sister.

 

 

***

Nightshade

 

 

“I don’t think my being on Irving soil is wise,” said Malcolm.

 

Meredith knew the people of Irving and their prejudices but-as she looked at the newly dug plague pits-Irving was in no position to argue. The communal graves were a testament to the mortality rate in the village: Dig deep. Dump the bodies. Cover with a thin layer of dirt and lime. Dump the next batch and you’re done- a recipe for disaster.

 

A Bill of Mortality posted on the courthouse door confirmed her worst fears. Meredith stopped to scan the list of names.

 

“Are they…”

 

“Faith and Billy are safe.” But for how long, she wondered.

 

“We’re almost there,” she assured Malcolm. After Howard’s spectacular demonstration, she had decided to leave the soldiers on the ship. Yet, she wisely chose two heavily armed guards to accompany them. One never knew when a robber or a crazy taking offense to Malcolm’s dark skin would appear. Meredith decided to prepare for everything that could possibly go wrong tonight.  “Here we are,” she said. “Things haven’t changed much.”

 

Meredith knocked on the door of the only Mansion in Irving, rousing the houseman from his sleep.

 

“Are you insane?” he said. “It is well past midnight!”

 

“I’m impressed that you know how to use a clock, but that’s not why I’m here. Get your master out of bed.”

 

“And whom shall I say is calling?” he sniffed, sarcasm heavy in his voice.

 

“Meredith Stuart.”

 

The houseman’s eyes grew wide. “I…you…. I’m so sorry, Lady Stuart.” He opened the door wide. “We he be joining you?”

 

“Get your master,” Meredith said, watching as the houseman scampered away.

 

“It’s going to be a long night in Irving,” Malcolm said to her.

 

“Even longer if they fail give me what I want.”

 

***

 

Faith followed Petra down a set of stairs leading to the subbasement of the jail. Then they entered a passageway. It was dank, and flooded as if the earth had squeezed its last drop of moisture and poured it into the miserable dungeon.

 

Faith slipped, catching the toe of her cheap prison shoes on a slick cobblestone. She gripped Petra’s shoulder.

 

Petra turned, shining a light in Faith’s direction. “You’d make a damn awful tracker.”

 

“Is that what you wish to be, a bounty hunter?”

 

“Yeah, what’s wrong with that?”

 

Faith thought Petra’s vitality lost on such aspirations, yet the girl would make a terrifying hunter. What a jewel she would be if used to replenish the devastated Order. “I take them cold; I take them hot,” Sister Anna once said, “never mealy mouth and warm.”

 

Petra was hot and cold.

 

“Would it not be more rewarding to help those in need, than to help the State destroy them?”

 

“I take it you don’t believe in prison reform?”

 

“It is an exercise in futility.”

 

“But I thought you said-”

 

“The State lacks empathy, compassion,” Faith interrupted.

 

“And I suppose you’re just full of it.” Petra smirked.

 

“By that you mean…”

 

“If we don’t get out of this pit, I may lose my charitable mood.” Petra grasped Faith’s hand, slowly rubbing her thumb over the soft palm. Petra’s sly smile faded: The gesture was obviously lost on the young Sister. “Move it, Sainte Faith.”

 

“Where does that door lead?”

 

“To the only place in Irving where they would never think to find you: the Courthouse. There’s food and water in a room upstairs…and dusty books a girl like you shouldn’t read.”

 

Faith thought of the books in Astrid’s cottage, the fieldwork in the forest, and Meredith’s gentle guidance. “Knowledge can be found in the most unlikely places.”

 

“Then you’re in for one hell of an education.”

 

Faith, not quite sure she should offer thanks, touched Petra’s cheek and felt the girl’s buried rage, her struggle with self-loathing. A tough nut to crack, but Anna would break her, and she wouldn’t need a bed warmer to do it.

 

They finally reached the door at the end of the tunnel, and it took their combined strength to force it open.

 

Petra stared in wonder at the heavy door, now hanging on its hinges. “Strong girl: you could’ve walked out of lockup anytime you wanted.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Why didn’t you?”

 

Faith reached into her pocket, and quick as lightening, she drew a knife across her palm. Then she pressed her hand to Petra’s temple. The blood ran freely into the girl’s dark hair.

 

“What the hell are you doing?”

 

“Tell them I was sick, tell them anything. You opened the door, and…”

 

Petra took the knife and nicked her own forehead, leaving a small gash near the hairline. “We might as well make it real.”

 

Faith’s eyes lit up with appreciation: Petra was the sour to Billy’s sweet, but like the roughish thief, she had her own sense of friendship. “Look in on Sister Anna, but do not tell Billy what you’ve done, or he will come for me.”

 

“He can’t stay away. I knew it,” Petra muttered.

 

“No, but there is…was someone.” She unlocked Meredith’s chain and caressed the delicate links before placing it in Petra’s hand. 

 

***

 

Judge Ramon was a crusty fellow; stooped with age and rheumy of eye. He didn’t like having his rest disturbed, precious little there was. So, it was with great ire that he greeted his visitor and her slave.

 

“See here, young woman,” he waved his cane at Meredith, “we don’t allow this sort of thing in Irving. I won’t have you dragging this fellow through the streets. Not seemly.”

 

“Allow me to introduce you to Malcolm, the captain of the Stuart.”

 

“Ah! You’re a progressive mistress.” Judge Ramon laughed- a watery unpleasant sound.  

 

“Employer,” Meredith said.

 

Ramon snorted and slumped onto the cushions of a comfortable couch. Meredith sat beside him rather than opposite, wanting to give the sour judge the illusion of a diplomatic meeting rather than a war counsel.

 

Ramon focused his bleary eyes on Malcolm. “Sit so we can get down to business.” Then he turned to Meredith. “What do you want?”

 

“You have two bounty hunters, Austin and Gregor Fast-”

 

“Ah yes. So?”

 

Meredith drew back, unused to being interrupted. She counted silently to three-ten was too much for her limited patience. “These men brought my…assistant, Faith Hilling, to Irving without my authorization. She is under my protection, and-”

 

“You gave amnesty to a murderer?” Ramon shook his head, “Nasty business, killing her aunt.”

 

Meredith threw Malcolm a look of total exasperation. Ramon proved to be exhausting as always with his interruptions.

 

Malcolm shrugged, too stunned with the judge’s acceptance of his presence to provide a decent response.

 

Ramon coughed then gave Meredith a sharp look. “You remind me of someone…a young woman we had once. What was her name? Linda...Letty…. No. Luce! Yes, that’s it. Damn arrogant girl.”

 

Meredith held her breath as she watched the judge’s mind wander off into the past. A past she didn’t care to remember. “You said murderer, Judge.”

 

“What? Oh, yes.”

 

“Who is Faith’s accuser?”

 

“Shackler, George Shackler.”

 

“That figures.” Meredith leveled her grey eyes at Ramon. “Did you view the body?”

 

“Of course I did!” he replied. “Where are you going with this?”

 

“Describe it.”

 

“Dead, damn it.” Ramon sighed. “Bruising around the armpits, like someone had lifted and heaved her against a wall. Blood from the mouth-that sort of thing.”

 

“And what poison do you suppose did this?”

 

“Poison?”

 

“That is what was stated in the warrant.” Malcolm spoke for the first time, stunning Ramon into silence.

 

“What, may I ask, is the crime, Judge?” Meredith asked. “Assault or poison? Or the very thing that’s driving your citizens to the pits?”

 

Ramon stood on shaky legs. “I don’t care if she stuck a tuning fork in the old woman and played ‘Merry Christmas’ on it. The girl shall hang for what she did!”

 

Diplomacy drained from her body, Meredith stood too. “No one-and I do mean no one- had the authority to remove Faith Hilling from Greenford. I consider this act an international incident.” She paused and gave the judge a withering glance before continuing, “I want her dressed, fed and waiting for me by morning.”

 

“Or what? You’ll declare war?”

 

“I have something better than war.” Meredith slipped her hand under Ramon’s arm, and helped to lower the faltering man onto the couch. Then she sat beside him again. “What I have will take care of that cough, and the lump in your armpit.” She had no intention of withholding aid to Irving’s citizens, but the Judge needn’t know that.

 

Ramon’s frail body, already stooped, seemed to fold in on itself. “A bit of laudanum could not have done Ernesta in, I suppose. Still, why would Shackler lie?”

 

“Shackler wants the girl,” replied Malcolm.

 

“Well, it’s tough jerky for him.” Judge Ramon rubbed the tender lump under his arm; then looked begrudgingly at Meredith. “The girl is yours...for now. When the epidemic is under control, she will stand trial. A fair one, I assure you.”

 

Meredith was not assured. She took out her medical kit and asked the judge to remove his shirt. He would be the first thing she got under control.

 

 

***

 

Meredith and Malcolm walked out into the night air. He held a handkerchief scented with lavender to his nose, and offered Meredith one as well. She refused. Death, it seemed-and that which almost became her own- had permeated her clothes, lived in her nostrils.

She was used to it.

 

“Ramon knew it was laudanum. He plays ignorance like a gifted actor.” Malcolm’s voice came muffled through the heavy cloth. “I believe he knows who you are as well.”

 

“He also knows that the good citizens of Irving would tear me apart if it came out.”

 

“But you saved the worthless jackals from cholera.”

 

“What’s a fever or two between friends?” Meredith smiled at him. Then her gaze dropped to the ground.  “They blamed me for the ones I couldn’t save.”

 

“Nightshade….”

 

Meredith shuddered. Twenty years had passed, yet the sting of the children’s poem came flooding back, bathing her with muck thicker than Irving dust.

 

She hated the very thought of Irving. The parched earth burned her soul, and the humid night depressed her mind. Yet it was worth being among Irving’s depraved climate and depraved inhabitants. Worth it for Faith.

 

***

 

The top floor of the Courthouse was quite comfortable, if you excused the fact that it contained holding cells used before the Irving jail was built. Humor, often lost on Faith, now tickled at her insides. Her home away from home was another jail cell.

 

All but two of the cells contained dusty papers and outlawed books. Petra had thoughtfully cleaned what was to be Faith’s sleeping quarters, and had even liberated another cell to store canned goods and bread-enough sustenance to last her a month.

 

On the bed, she found a bag filled with her old clothes, money and a brief note: In case you have to run, it read.

 

Faith picked up the book Petra had left for her. Two women graced the cover in loving embrace: How to Please Your Companion. She flipped through a few pages, and her face heated up. Faith immediately closed the book. Could she really do these things, these intimate acts with Petra? Faith imagined her arms around Meredith, and opened the book again.

 

***

 

“Gone? What do you mean she’s gone?” Meredith went behind Sergeant Craig’s desk and got right up in his face, forcing the man to rise from his chair.

 

“She assaulted one of my guards, Lady Stuart.” Craig straightened his spine, towering over his early morning visitor by a good six inches, but it didn’t seem to intimidate the woman. “Believe me: I want her back as much as you do.”

 

“I believe you,” Meredith said, managing to stare the man down from her vantage point. “I saw what your men built in the Square, and it’s not a swing set.”

 

Malcolm rapped the desktop for attention. “How secure are your borders?” he asked.

 

Craig scratched his head. “She couldn’t have gotten too far.”

 

“That tells me nothing about the borders.” Malcolm glanced at Meredith, whose eyes seemed captivated by the front door.

 

“We’ll try some of her old haunts in the Village,” Craig offered.

 

“No,” Meredith said, not bothering to take her eyes off the door. “Send a few scouting parties past the borders instead.”

 

Malcolm glared at Craig. “And if we find that she’s met with foul play-”

 

“Malcolm,” Meredith interrupted. She placed a hand on his arm to calm him. “Sergeant Craig, I want the address of the young guard you claim Faith Hilling assaulted.”

 

“I can’t give out-”

 

“Now, Sergeant.”

 

Craig scratched his head again. This woman would prove to be a bigger pain than Judge Ramon if he didn’t get her out of his jail. He flipped through the employee register and rattled off Petra’s address.

 

***

 

Once outside, Malcolm cornered Meredith. “Why did you order Craig to send his men off to the borders?” He’d already made up his mind that Faith was buried someplace in Irving- a response to the threatening letter he’d sent earlier to Ramon.

 

“I have a feeling she’s near by.”

 

“What makes you say that?”

 

“Follow me.”

 

Malcolm trailed her to the corner. Then they turned into an alley.

 

Billy, leaning against a wall with Faith’s morning meal in his hands, said, “I thought you two would never get out of there. Where’s Faith? ”

 

“That’s what you’re going help us find out.”

 

“I thought you were dead.”

 

Meredith embraced him.

 

 Malcolm stared coldly. “I should put you on that scaffold.”

 

“Nice to see you too.” Billy lay down his basket of food. Then he gave the tall man a bear hug. He laughed when Malcolm pushed him away.

 

“Now, now, boys. You can play with each other later. Right now, we have too many visits to make,” said Meredith, “and Miss Petra is first on the list.”

 

 

***

 

“Who the hell are you?” Petra blocked the doorway, loathed to let the exquisitely dressed lady enter her humble cottage.

 

“I’m a friend of the woman who gave you that nice bandage.” Meredith waited for Petra to move aside. Then she entered, throwing her coat on a chair occupied by a stack of books.

 

“What about her?”

 

“Where is she?”

 

“How should I know?” Petra ran a hand through her curly hair, careful not to touch the awkward bandage.

 

Meredith grabbed the girl’s wrist. “Faith would not give this to you willingly,” she said, indicating the bracelet Petra wore. “Now tell me where she is.”

 

“Do you really expect me to believe that a mere Sister knows someone wealthy like you?” Petra backed away. “This is one of Judge Ramon’s traps.”

 

“Confirm it with your father and brother. They were the ones who dragged her here.”

 

“I would if they hadn’t run off after another fugitive.”

 

The resentment in the guard’s voice stung Meredith ears, and she didn’t like what she saw in Petra’s eyes. “I hope you have a spare room, because I’m not leaving until you tell me what I want to know.”

 

“Friend, huh?”

 

“That’s right.” Meredith sat in one of the few empty chairs in the living room. “Exactly what are you to Faith?”

 

Petra smiled, catching the spark of jealousy.

 

Meredith raked the wooden arm of the chair with her fingernails. “Put on some coffee,” she growled in a low voice, “You and I are in for a long day.”

 

 

***

 

“Sister Anna! What are you doing here?” Faith emerged from her hiding place, a row of filing cabinets in one of the cells.

 

“Petra told me where you are in case one the prisoners finally decided to bump her off.” Anna closed the door behind her and slowly made her way to Faith’s bed. “I’ve got chocolate.” Her eyes sparkled.

 

“Climbing the stairs could not have done you good.” Faith sat beside her. “You are still recovering.”

 

“So I am.” Anna glanced at the opened book on the bed. “That’s not the Sisters Prayer.”

 

“I was…curious.” Faith folded her hands in her lap and stared at the floor. If ever there was a time to be hanged…

 

“Interesting,” said Anna, “but much better when put into practice.”

 

“Sister!”

 

“You always were a prissy little thing.” The laughter in her voice died down. “There is a higher purpose in life than serving Billy Hager’s needs. By the way, you’re reading the wrong instruction manual. Or are you?”

 

“May I have a chocolate, please?”

 

Sister Anna laughed. “Nuts or without nuts.”

 

“Without.”

 

“Thought so.”

 

***

 

 

Faith and Anna had shared a repast of ravioli heated in a pot over the fireplace, and a generous helping of wine-well, Anna drank the wine.

 

Both were asleep, happily wrapped together and in their respective dreams when Meredith found them. She stood for a moment and watched the women in the small cell, before carefully sitting on the edge of the narrow cot. Then she gazed at Faith, not daring to touch the sleeping woman, lest she wake her. She continued to look at the woman who’d saved her from burning in the loneliness of her own fire. One touch and Faith would know how deep the flames. So, her hands strayed to her old mentor.

 

Anna awoke.

 

Meredith placed a finger to her mentor’s lips.

 

“Luce,” she whispered. “Is it truly you? Word came from Greenford that you were sick with fever.”

 

“Yes.” Meredith looked at Faith, who had moaned when Anna slipped from her embrace. “A fever…”

 

“Luce, how I’ve missed you.”

 

“You must call me Meredith, now.” Meredith looked at Faith. “She doesn’t know.”

 

“Nor should anyone in this horrible village.”

 

“Why do you stay?” Meredith asked gently. “Fever destroyed the Order-surely you have no reason to remain.”

 

“If I have one…only one like her, then I will stay.” Anna gripped Meredith’s waist and raised her frail body from the bed. “Is Faith to be executed?”

 

“No, they want her to stand trial.”

 

“I miss the Order already.” Anna gave Meredith a wistful smile. “I remember the day we snuck you out in a coffin to your father’s waiting ship. He was furious-called us a pack of witches.” Anna shook her head. “But we stopped a hanging then, and we can stop one now. Have you a ship, dear?”

 

“Two.”  

 

“Then take her away now.”

 

“In time, Sister.” She sat back down on the bed. Faith seemed so peaceful, that Meredith was contented to wait until she woke.

 

“I guess she won’t leave unless you take care of this nasty business plaguing us.” Anna moved outside the cell. “She’ll be of great help- saved me from it.”

 

“Saved?”

 

“I suppose she learned at you side.” Anna smiled and made her way toward the stairs. “I’ll be back with something hot later on. This canned stuff leaves me cold.”

 

“Thank you, Anna.”

 

Anna waved the comment off. “No bother. Save a piece of chocolate for me.”

 

***

 

Faith lay deep in dream, an intense kaleidoscope of touch and sound. In the depths of her mind, Anna’s embrace sweetened.

 

“Faith?”

 

Anna’s voice deepened; rich, dark. A taste of chocolate on her tongue.

 

She turned and her eyes opened slowly….

 

“My God!” Faith scrambled from the bed, taking the covers and Meredith with her.

 

“Faith. Faith!”

 

Faith stared at the specter, blood pumping wildly in her veins. The door. She had to get to the door and out of this place.

 

Meredith caught her round the waist and they both stood in shock, breathing heavily from the wild struggle toward the door.

 

Faith closed her eyes and- like children often do- prayed against the shadow’s intrusion.

 

Meredith kissed her, mouth lingering on Faith’s cheek as they embraced.

 

“Could we do this if I were dead?” 

 

Faith touched Meredith’s hair, running her fingertips through the soft strands. Her tongue invaded Meredith’s mouth. The irresistible taste, the soft touch: Faith held her closer, barely breathing from the feel of Meredith in her arms.

 

Meredith back away, surprised. “Who…who taught you that?”

 

Faith said nothing. She gently moved her hands over Meredith’s shoulders, down her slender arms, around her waist.

 

“I can see that I’m not going to get any answers from you today.” Meredith laughed; a gentle purr. She wanted to chastise the girl, admonish her for facing the fire in Greenford, for running away.

 

Yet, she hugged Faith, and her gaze drifted to the window. The hazy skyline of Irving was marred by the towering scaffold. Never had she seen such a huge testament to man’s murderous desires. It was as if all of Irving wanted Faith’s death elevated to the heights of perversion.

 

 “Tonight, make your way to my ship. Understand?”

 

“No.”

 

“What do you mean no? I don’t believe this!” Meredith threw up her hands in exasperation. “I’m not with you ten minutes, and your first word to me is no.”

 

“Then maybe you should ask me the right question.”

 

Faith watched Meredith go to the bed and haphazardly throw the covers in place. Then Meredith moved to the barred row of windows as Faith approached.

 

“Why do you turn away whenever I get close to you?” Faith wanted to touch her, but she leaned against the bars instead. “I know what you feel…everything, Meredith. I know.” 

 

“Then you should know that I want you safe.”

 

Sunlight played on Meredith’s hair setting it afire. Faith held a lock in her hand and felt more than the need for safety driving the stubborn woman. She felt Meredith’s love, and a fear so palpable that she drew away.  She believes she will die here.

 

“I will not go to the ship.”

 

“You will.” Meredith stared out the window, her hands gripping the sill, knuckles turning white. There would be one person standing on that scaffold before the plague died, and she would be damned if that person were Faith.

 

***

 

Meredith was as good as her word about securing Faith aboard the Stuart. After evening meal-while in the presence of a stunned and rather angry Sister Anna-Meredith’s guards removed Faith from her home in Courthouse.

 

“How could you do that?” Sister Anna asked Meredith.

 

It was now dawn, and they were setting up a temporary surgery in the abandoned schoolhouse. Meredith’s soldiers had already set up the operating theatre, gurneys, beds and medicine cabinets. Then the soldiers formed a well-armed barrier around the building.

 

“The guard is necessary,” Meredith replied.

 

“You know darn well what I’m talking about.” Anna frowned, and pulled down the surgical mask covering her mouth and nose. “You can’t keep Faith on that darn boat of yours forever.”

 

“It’s not a boat.”

 

Anna shrugged. “She will have to stand trial.”

 

“Fine,” Meredith said. She was about to add a terse remark when a commotion outside the school drew her toward the windows.

 

“What’s going on?” Anna asked.

 

“It looks like some folks in Irving don’t want to take their medicine,” Meredith answered, regarding the people outside as rebellious children rather than a dangerous crowd.  

 

“I hope your soldiers don’t shoot at them,” Anna said, thinking a bed warmer would do the trick nicely. “Want me to go out and smack some sense into the troublemakers? I’ve still got a good arm.”

 

Meredith smiled. “I should’ve locked you on the Stuart with Faith.”

 

***

 

Faith wasn’t locked up for long. During the night, she’d managed to swipe one of the female soldiers’ dark green uniforms. A lieutenant major no less, slept unaware as Faith rummaged threw the closet in her berth. Faith had earlier heard the woman’s name called out-Elise or something to that effect-and her glance caught the raven-haired beauty with violet eyes.

 

The woman was one of Meredith’s top marksmen, and Faith knew if she made one false move, Elise wouldn’t hesitate to tear a new hole in her head.

 

Faith held her breath throughout the clandestine operation and managed to escape unscathed.

 

The white blouse fit well, but the jacket was a bit tight and the pants too short for her long legs. She stuffed the pant legs into her stolen jackboots. Then she shined the boots to perfection, creating a dazzling effect on the onyx leather.

 

All in all, she cut a stunning figure in the uniform. The crew of the Stuart, never having seen Faith wear her hair down before, stared in amazement at the beautiful young officer descending the gangplank in the wee hours of the morning.

 

Faith kept her eyes straight ahead, missing the lustful stares of the villagers as well. One seller in the marketplace had upset his cart of fresh vegetables while leaning forward to get a better view of the soldier.

 

“Hey, soldier girl,” called a young florist, “like a flower?” The woman winked at Faith and held out a red rose.

 

Though Faith had no interest in cut flora, other than their medicinal properties-she took the rose and thanked the girl. She’d seen plenty of floral arrangements in the Stuart mansion-perhaps Meredith would appreciate the flower.

 

“I’m Irma,” the girl said. “Anytime you need something, honey, I’m yours.”

 

“I don’t have a particular need for flowers,” Faith said, missing the point since the art of flirting was outside her realm of being. 

 

“You sure work fast.” Petra grabbed Faith, pulling her away from the disappointed florist. “Why are you playing G.I. Janie?”

 

“It was the only way I could leave the dock. I was-”

 

“Don’t tell me-I’m in enough trouble.” Petra gave Faith the once over, smiling with approval at the warrior getup. “Craig suspended me, so I volunteered to work at the new hospital.”

 

“Hospital?” For as long as Faith could remember, Irving never had a hospital-new or old.

 

“See that nasty crowd in front of the schoolhouse?” she took Faith’s arm. “That’s where we’re headed.”

 

“Excellent.”

 

Petra stared at Faith for a moment, not liking the way the girl observed the riotous crowd. The woman looked absolutely possessed, as if by an otherworldly vision. “You know, I didn’t let you give me that booster shoot in the ass for nothing. So put that damn gun back into your holster before you get us killed.”   

 

***

 

Meredith emerged from the front of her surgery ready to quell the disturbance when a young blonde soldier strode through the rabble. The crowd parted, staring at the sensation walking among them. So did Meredith.

 

“My God.” Meredith closed her mouth, disconcerted that she’d been gaping. Faith had let her hair fall free, and a hint of lipstick and rouge enriched the color of her pale skin.

 

Meredith wanted to hold her tell her how lovely she is. Instead, “What are you doing here?”

 

“Lady Stuart,” Faith took one of Meredith hands away from her hips, surprised at the strength of the smaller woman. She held it, pressing her forehead gently to the smooth skin. Then she turned away from Meredith, took off her jacket and rolled up the sleeves of her dress shirt. “Because of Lady Stuart, I am free of plague.”

 

Most of the crowd didn’t recognize Faith or care that she was from Irving: It was the reverent way in which she greeted Meredith that turned them around. A Greenford soldier who knew their customs, one who didn’t point a gun at them.

 

Faith clasped Meredith’s hand again.

 

“Let go of me,” Meredith said under her breath. “Why is she with you?”

 

“She,” Petra thrust out her chin, “is handy with sharp instruments.”

 

Meredith took a step down and leaned into Petra’s face. “So am I.”

 

A jolt went up Faith’s arm, for Meredith’s cold tone carried volumes of heat. Faith finally let go of Meredith’s hand and pulled Petra behind her, fearing the woman’s ebony hair would ignite from the searing glare.  

 

“Line up single file!” Meredith said to the crowd before disappearing inside.

 

***

 

Petra, in her glory, rounded up the strays into decent-if not single file lines in the schoolyard. As for Billy, she’d brought him along to convince those terrified of needles to change their minds.

 

“If you don’t want treatment, then help me dig your grave,” he said. Quite a few developed an instant love for hypodermics after seeing the dusty boy and his crude shovel.

 

Inside, the schoolhouse was teeming with Greenford soldiers hastily trained as medics. Under Faith’s supervision, they delivered the anti-serum, while Meredith and Anna labored away in the surgery.

 

For once, Faith’s attention to her duty became distracted by more than simple prayer. Ever so often, her eyes would stray to the closed surgery, thoughts lingering on the woman inside. Meredith had barely spoken to her during the morning; a few gruff orders and a lot of hard looks was all Faith had received. Now it was past noon, and Meredith had yet to emerge for sustenance.  

 

“After she cleans up, she’ll join us,” Anna assured. They sat in the cafeteria, cramped in small chairs.

 

Faith brought her attention back to the hot meal Anna had provided for them, embarrassed by displaying such a useless feeling as worry.

 

“Who, who’s joining us?” Petra asked, knowing darn well to whom Anna had referred. Throughout the morning, Meredith had given her-and the bracelet she wore-scathing looks, grey eyes sharp as the scalpels they wielded. Cut. Remove. Sew up. It was a tedious affair sending Petra running to the locker room for a hot shower before lunch.

 

Though she now regarded Faith as a friend, she knew the itch Meredith felt and she was more than happy to contribute an annoying allergen of her own. But Meredith was a cool customer, not once asking her to return Faith’s bracelet. Cool, with lava boiling inside… “So, who’s the fourth for lunch?” Petra swiped a carrot from Meredith’s waiting supper.

 

Faith got up-not an easy trick if you were sitting behind a table meant for small children. “Excuse me,” she said, remembering to use her manners-meager as they were-in the presence of Sister Anna. Then she was gone.

 

Anna pointed her fork at Petra. “You’re up to some devilment. I can feel it.”

 

“Oh, Sister, you don’t know the half of it.”

 

***

 

The doors to the surgery were open, and Faith stood at the threshold, watching as Meredith pulled a sheet over the face of her last patient. She looked exhausted and flushed to Faith’s eyes-burnt to the core like Irving’s soil.

 

In another time, perhaps two hundred years before the last Great War, Meredith would be a celebrated doctor with her choice of directorships at any hospital in the world. But the world had changed drastically, and yet, not changed at all. Outraged, angry at the advances that led to its downfall, the pitiful orb had slunk back into the comfort of the Dark Ages-albeit one more sinister and suspicious than before.

 

Faith, a woman used to doing what she wanted, waited for Meredith’s invitation. Meredith seemed not to hear her thumping heart, wailing for attention. Even dismissal would be better than no acknowledgement at all. 

 

Meredith leaned against the cold gurney and shut her eyes. “Don’t come any further,” she said. “I need a bath.”

 

“Will a shower do?” Faith asked.

 

“I will have to.” Meredith removed her mask and gown. She placed the offending items in a hazardous waste bin. Then she looked at Faith’s right arm, expecting to see her gift of gold and silver snug around its wrist. “You searched my room when I…after you thought I died.”

 

“Not out of curiosity.”

 

“I didn’t think so.”

 

“I had meant to give it to you long ago. I guess it doesn’t matter now.”

 

“It does.” Faith said, unwilling to explain how the bracelet’s value increased further by giving it away, and how she would have rotted alone in that cell had it not been for Petra.

 

Meredith was about to rake a hand through her hair then stopped. No use in contaminating herself further. “I’m going to take a shower.”

 

“Would you like company?”  Faith asked, catching the far away look in Meredith’s grey eyes. Faith too drifted for a moment, back to that warm bathhouse in Greenford. At the time, she had not appreciated the intimacy they’d shared, the care Meredith had shown. “There is a communal bath in the Order House.”

 

“No.” Contamination be damned, Meredith rubbed a sore spot on her neck. “Go back to your-” she stopped, realizing how jealous she sounded. “Finish your lunch.”

 

Meredith brushed by without so much as a glance, and the brief-but impersonal-contact startled Faith. “I will ask Billy to take care of the body,” she said. But no one was there to hear. She stood rooted to the threshold, alone with the departed spirit of the dead.

 

***

 

Hot. Steamy…

 

The water in Meredith’s shower sprayed misty warmth over her skin, but it was not enough to keep her mind off Faith. That’s what cold’s for- but icy water doesn’t wash the germs away. Her own jealousy terrified her, so she pretended that Faith’s welfare was the thorn nagging at her conscience. Yes, it was the girl’s naiveté; her ability to fascinate would land her in deep trouble.

 

Meredith added to the delusion by constructing a safe haven for the girl. The Order-that’s the place. Who would dare to touch the young woman while wreathed in the soft white of the Sisters?

 

Meredith had witnessed the way the crowd had backed down to the girl’s beauty and fearless authority.  They worshipped her. Meredith wanted her.

 

“To be safe…” she corrected. 

 

With outstretched arms, Meredith placed her hands on the marble tiles slicked with homemade Sisters’ soap-a concoction of disinfectants that stripped one clean of the germs plaguing man. She hung her head under the water and suds spilled into her eyes and mouth; bitter, odorless.  Yet, lemon and mint drifted into the shower-a blend of her soap, her shampoo from the ship.

 

Who would dare to…she wondered, trying hard to picture the soldier bold enough to rob her quarters.

 

A sponge touched Meredith’s shoulder, and she closed her eyes tighter. She felt, more than heard, Faith’s whisper beneath the roar of the shower. Faith slipped an arm around her waist gently nudging her forward.

 

Meredith’s brow touched the tiles, her mouth opened. Meredith- she who liked to watch; love with her eyes; taste with her mind- accepted the touch of Faith’s hands on her body.

 

The girl moved quickly, as if she feared Meredith would stop her. But Meredith moved along with Faith, her body remembering what her mind had long forgotten.

 

This was the love she needed to drown the cries of her patients; the last words of those who had failed to survive. Meredith turned to face her. Steam and heat seemed to hold them together, locked in a hurried embrace.  Faith stopped. She lifted Meredith and effortlessly carried her outside.

 

Cold tiles pressed against Meredith’s back where she lay on floor. She held out her arms, and Faith moved over her. With a shock, Meredith realized that the girl had stepped into the shower fully clothed. She tugged at the ruined uniform, but Faith gently rebuffed her.

 

What a sight, Meredith thought: she on the floor, Faith in wet cloths moving urgently against her. Not a care in the world for what a guard or medic seeking a shower might see. Bliss.

 

Meredith rarely gave herself over to wild intimacy in private, let alone in public. She wanted the uniform gone. But Faith apparently could feel something inside those wet trousers; the girl straightened her shoulders, threw back her head and let out the longest most passionate howl Meredith had ever heard from a lover. 

 

Naiveté gone, fled in the noon of day like a frightened mouse: Faith was no longer a Sister.

 

“You liked that,” Meredith said in complete understatement. 

 

Faith’s wet hair fell into her eyes, covered her flushed face. She pressed her tongue into Meredith’s mouth, fearful words would break what she intended to finish. She put into practice every act she could remember from that scandalous book, pleasing her companion till night fell.

 

***

 

Meredith still lay on the floor, surprised that no one had entered to bathe. Perhaps they’d heard the loud cries coming from within.

 

Have I been blind? Meredith wondered. Faith had given of herself and asked no attachments-no declaration of love. Gently but persistently driving her into an affair of words, touch; an intimate weave she would never, could never untangle.

 

“I don’t want to let you go,” Meredith said. In truth she did not, but her body wasn’t what it used to be, and cold-tiled floors were unkind to anyone. Even someone besotted with a wet beauty in their arms. “Faith?”

 

Faith had fallen asleep.

 

Meredith caressed the girl’s hair, passing her hand through the destroyed curls, luxuriating in the feel of drying waves. “We have to try it with your clothes off next time.”

 

Next time… But was Faith hers to have? The girl had a profound effect upon Irving’s frayed and unwilling souls. Faith was a leader, a healer. Her future lay not with Meredith, or so Meredith thought. It has to be done with. And Meredith searched for the words, the many ways to break a young heart.

 

She held Faith there, held her as bleak Irving twilight seeped through the windows. She held the girl tenderly while her own heart broke.

 

***

 

Faith took off her uniform. It smelled of lemon and mint, Meredith’s scent mingled with her own. She folded it neatly and slipped on a gown she’d borrowed from Anna. Then she turned out the gaslight and settled in the small bed provided by the Order.

 

Meredith had promised to join her later, after closing the surgery with Anna. Why not ask me to wait? Why… Many questions surfaced and were left unanswered as Faith threw the covers from her damp body. For a place with virtually no summer rain, Irving had turned into a sauna.  

 

Earlier, Faith had heard something in Meredith’s voice, felt something in her touch where they’d lain exhausted on the cold tiled floor. Fear, that’s what it was. Fear from a woman who fought valiantly in the muddle of life’s troubles, yet trembled from her own conflicted mind.

 

Determined to sleep, but not dream, Faith turned over her pillow, relishing its cooler side. She floated, suspended for a moment in that sleeper’s paradise, before descending into what would surely become a nightmare.

 

Sleep did not last long: A scream pierced the window, bouncing from the walls in echo of the terror outside…

 

***

 

Tonight, Billy had gone back to his old habit of nocturnal dance. Pulled like an owl from its perch, he hurled his lithe body toward the dry fountain in the village square. Fueled by nothing more than a canteen of water, he jumped and spun, whirling round like a madman.

 

Yellow gaslights struck him, illuminating his blond hair and the milky outline of his torn nightshirt. The black pants he wore gave him the appearance of a legless ghost: dusty feet moving without support.

 

Malcolm, making his way from the ship to the Order House, had the misfortune of seeing Billy, who by now had stripped down to his shorts. He ducked his head in the hope that the shameless creature would fail to spot him walking down the dark streets.

 

Alas, few villagers were out in the tepid night air, and Malcolm’s dark face did not look like one that belonged. Billy recognized him immediately. 

 

“Malcolm! Hey, Malcolm, wait up.”

 

Billy’s sonorous voice, that breathless, urgent whine, buzzed like an alarm in Malcolm’s ears. His head snapped up, pulsing with an oncoming ache. Eyes sharp-he gave the boy what he hoped was a look of complete indifference.

 

“Where are you going?” Billy swung the canteen toward Malcolm, offering a drink.

 

“I prefer to stay sober.”

 

“It’s water, man.”

 

Malcolm’s dull expression gave way to that of disbelief. So the boy wasn’t drunk, just a lunatic as he’d suspected all along. “Go home, Billy.”

 

“Not too smart walking around in the dark by yourself.”

 

Malcolm stared at Billy’s face, the wild blond hair standing on end, the pale skin. This heathen, this simple-minded, half-literate boy, walked around (danced no less) in the dark streets. But I- Malcolm’s rage turned outward. He stepped forward, and shoved Billy, then stalked away.

 

Billy got up and followed. Malcolm decided to ignore him, and they crossed the expanse of the square in silence until reaching a narrow turnoff.

 

“What the hell-” Billy bumped into Malcolm, failing to realized that his reluctant companion had stopped.

 

On the grounds of the Order, four men waited-one of who had just finished painting red signs on a whitewashed wall: PERVERTE INFYDEL NIGHTSHADE.

 

I hope they fight the way they spell. Malcolm withdrew his gun, checked the safety and gripped its long barrel for use as a nightstick.

 

Something cold hit the back of Malcolm’s neck as he approached the men. He turned. Billy stood behind him, legs apart, swinging the canteen like a bat.       

   

Sisters, help us. Malcolm again moved toward the men, gently tapping the butt of the gun against his palm.

 

***

 

Faith rushed from the Order House into total mayhem: Billy, down on his knees, bleeding from the head, managed to swing his canteen into the face of irate man bending over him. Malcolm was out cold, his arm lying at an odd angle on the parched grass, and two strange men were slumped against him.

 

And there was Meredith. Calm, not a hair out of place. She took aim at her would be attacker and shot him in the knee before Faith reached her side.

 

The last of the thugs gave up on Billy, and rushed from the courtyard, leaving his wounded partner to struggle after him.

 

Meredith turned toward the sound of feet crushing dry grass, and her gaze landed on Faith. The larger of the remaining criminals took the wrong moment to rise, and Faith caught him by the throat.

 

“Don’t!” Meredith yelled. “Don’t.”

 

Though reluctant, Faith released her hold on the man, who collapsed with great relief to the ground.

 

“Damn cowards!” Meredith said. “I want you to find Petra.” She stared at the scantily-clad girl. “On second thought, I’ll go. Just get these two inside.”

 

“And the others?” Faith asked, bending to roll away the two remaining thugs from Malcolm. 

 

Meredith tossed her gun to Faith. “If they’re stupid enough to rise again, shoot them.” She watched as Faith checked the chamber and aimed the gun. “In the leg,” she added. 

 

***

 

Darkness had passed and the light of day crept into the bedroom where Billy and Malcolm lay in the Order House.  Faith had dragged two chairs to the space between the men’s beds.

 

Meredith sat next to Faith, studying her profile for some time in the quiet room. Something caught in her throat at seeing the electric vision of the young tigress coming to her aid; barefoot, weaponless, ready to kill for her. 

 

“Do something for me, Faith.”

 

“Anything…”

 

Faith’s eyes shone with an intensity that startled Meredith. She wanted to ask the girl to go quietly before the violence escalated. No protest this time. No return visit, just stay on the ship. Yet, in her weakness, she relented under the imploring gaze.

 

Meredith laid her head on Faith’s shoulder, breathing in the clean scent.

 

Faith, taught to sense, to feel what those around her wanted, almost wept. With Meredith gently pressed to her shoulder, she heard the silent request.

 

Faith put her arms around Meredith.    

 

***

 

This is how Anna found them: Both slumped in chairs pulled together, each woman facing her cherished friend. Their heads touched, and Meredith snored lightly-a sound Anna was all too familiar with.

 

Meredith’s fondness for the girl disturbed Anna, angered her. If she cared to admit it, their growing love meant she’d failed them both as a mentor.

 

Her expression softened upon seeing Malcolm’s bruised face, and his arm set in a splint. All but the tips of his fingers seemed to disappear beneath a wad of hastily made bandages.

 

Billy turned, rolling onto his back, sporting a wicked grin. If Anna hadn’t seen the vile words scrawled outside, she’d swear the young rascal had instigated the fight.

 

“Yes...”

 

Yes, indeed, Anna thought, as the sly boy rolled over again.

 

Then Meredith stirred. What is she dreaming? Anna wondered. She touched her former student’s face, stroking the freckled skin, and found an alarming depth of pain.

 

Meredith woke, a bit confused with her surroundings until she glimpsed Malcolm. He slept hard-a dreamless sleep from the drugs she had given him. Meredith squeezed Faith’s shoulder’s waking the young woman.

 

“Mere…Meredith,” Faith leaned forward to kiss her then saw Anna’s stern visage from the corner of her eye. She settled on touching Meredith’s hand, shyly at first then boldly secured it between her own.  

 

“Why didn’t anyone bother to wake me up last night?” Anna said, scowling at them.

 

“I heard,” Meredith suppressed a yawn, “that you managed to sleep through enemy bombing during the last war. What hope would I’ve had of waking you up?”

 

“I was just a child. Speaking of which, our golden boy’s awake.” 

 

Billy stretched and stirred from the bed without a stitch on. He nodded good morning to the women and padded over to Malcolm. He kissed Malcolm’s smooth brow and damaged nose. Then he gently touched the splint on his friend’s arm before walking out to the bathroom.

 

“Well! If his head wasn’t busted, I’d break it myself.” Anna placed her hands on her hips. “Rude boy.”

 

“I’m afraid that’s my doing.” Meredith laughed. She couldn’t understand why a man known to dance naked in public balked at the idea of a woman undressing him. Then she thought about the kiss he’d given Malcolm and finally understood the reluctance he’d shown last night.  “I removed his clothes.”

 

“Oh, please. I’ve seen plenty of naked men.” Anna smiled wistfully. “If Malcolm were awake, he’d kill the boy for smooching him up like that.” Her eyes followed Billy’s well-muscled back as the sleepy man loped toward relief. “How is Malcolm doing?”

 

“Other than a broken arm,” Meredith said, “he has a slight concussion.”

 

“Dreadful. I knew I’d been too easy on those…” Anna let her words trail off, and exhaled loudly.

 

“What?” Faith pulled the covers up under Malcolm’s chin, careful not to touch him. She did not think she could bear the pain she would find there.

 

“To think: Out of the goodness of my heart, I brought those two jailbirds some oatmeal.” Anna gave the women a crooked smile. “Mind you, it had lumps in it.”

 

“I will cook breakfast today,” Faith said.

 

“Were you allowed to see the prisoners?” Meredith asked Anna, knowing her old friend would take a good accounting of the thugs-probably maim them if given a clear opening.

 

“Yes, and I could tell from the buttons on their coats they were Shackler’s men. Both smelled like Southlands dung if you ask me.”

 

“Shackler is trying to frighten me into marrying him.”

 

“No Faith,” Meredith said, sighing deeply. “The message was meant for me.”

 

***

 

“Bullshit!” Petra yelled. She stood outside the jail in full riot gear, and along with her fellow officers, tried to push back the restless crowd. Just as she was about to strike one of the villagers, her father and brother drove up with their latest catch.

 

“Petra,” her father asked, “what is going on here?”

 

Petra quickly related last night’s assault, and the defacing of the Order House as she swung her nightstick on the head of one villager after another. “Now these ungrateful bastards want Meredith’s head.”

 

“The Lady is here…among us?”

 

“Yes, Austin.” She never called him father. From the time he’d taken her from her parent's cholera-ridden house, he’d always been Austin.

 

“Gregor, take our charge inside.” Austin opened the back door to the paddy wagon and pulled the manacled prisoner to the ground. “Hold firm, Petra, I shall see to the Lady’s safety.”

 

“Yeah, well, try to keep Faith from killing anyone.”

 

“Faith?” Austin scratched his head. “Is she with Lady Stuart?” His daughter’s use of the Lady’s first name seemed to disarm him more than the fact that Faith was running around loose.

 

One of the rioters shoved Petra. “I lost three children during the cholera because of that witch!” he screamed.

 

“Back off! Or you’ll lose a thumb.” Petra shook off the man and gave him a whack across the brow for good measure.

 

 “It was their fate to die. It will be yours if you dare to touch my daughter again.” Austin turned to the angry, sullen faces. “Most of you stand here today because Lady Meredith saved your worthless lives. Now go on your way before I shoot you!”

 

Many in the crowd gasped as their dazed minds fought to recall the young Luce, now a grand lady. Savior or devil, they wanted blood, but Austin’s pistol turned them swiftly toward the safety of their homes.  

 

Petra fought to control her own stunned indignation. Luce had saved her from cholera. Insecurity seeped in: did he mean her life was worthless too? Why didn’t the witch leave her to die with her parents? Why did they have to die at all? 

 

“It couldn’t be helped,” Austin said, reading his daughter’s expression. “And you’re not worthless, you’re my child.”

 

Petra found her love slowly returning for this solemn man. Before turning her attention back to the stragglers, she called to him, “Go, father. I can manage things here.”

 

***

 

“Do you think more patients will come today?” Faith now donned her crumpled uniform when she sensed how uncomfortable Meredith felt with her wearing the Sisters’ white.

 

“You know these devils better than I.”

 

“You knew them once.” Faith touched her. She found lately that she couldn’t stop touching Meredith. The woman’s skin was a magnet to her, drawing her further into the growing needs of her own sexuality. Meredith was her, not just part of her being. And as one, they were complete. “Why would Shackler want to hurt you?”

 

“You’re not the first woman I took away from him,” Meredith said without thinking. Then she froze, anticipating Faith’s next question.

 

Faith did wonder who the first woman was, and if there were more women, but-with a maturity astounding for her age-she saw Meredith as hers now, and only hers. “Wynona…” she said, completely surprising Meredith.

 

“Is mine.”

 

“Then-”

 

A brick had been hurled through the window, shooting glass and wood toward the women. Meredith and Faith hit the floor.

 

“You’d think they wouldn’t waste these damn things with a lighthouse to rebuild.” Meredith slipped the crudely tied letter from the brick. On the soiled paper was scrawled the wicked children’s poem about Nightshade, and a threat to finish what the villagers had failed to do twenty years ago.

 

“They are fools,” Faith said.

 

“Fools who want me in a noose.”

 

“I want you in my arms.” Faith kissed her thoroughly, trying to consume her. Not yet appreciating the finer points of seducing a woman, she frantically reached for the clasp on Meredith’s robe.

 

“No.” Meredith laughed, gently pushing Faith.

 

“Why?” This said with the sullenness of youth, Faith grabbed her.

 

“What is it with you and floors?”

 

To Faith, it didn’t matter where they were; floor, shower or hilltop. What does it matter as long as they made love? “You would stop me now?” Incomprehensible: chaining her desire for propriety’s sake.

 

“Oh,” Meredith laughed again, “I have so much to teach you.”

 

“Begin,” Faith ordered, slipping her hand beneath the folds of Meredith’s gown.

 

“Later.” Anna stood over them, not at all amused by what she saw. “Lieutenant Fast is waiting outside to escort you both to the Surgery.”

 

***

 

Austin lost control of the crowd, as Shackler’s men snaked into the line of Meredith’s guards. The fight was on, and in the confusion, Meredith and Faith were spirited away.

 

They sat on the ground, blindfolded and chained to a wall just outside Irving’s north gate.

 

“I love you.” Meredith said.

 

Meredith’s words failed to comfort Faith. She tried to free her bound hands, but could not so much as move a finger. Yet, without touch, the sensation of Meredith’s skin beneath her fingers, she felt, she knew: Meredith believed the last of their time together had come.

 

But Faith refused to say goodbye to this woman so easily, even as they were released and marched toward two trees in a dense forest.

 

Both, thrown upon horses, strained at the ropes tied around their necks. Calloused men removed their blindfolds, puzzled that the women would look only at each other as Shackler read the verdict.

 

Villagers yelled in the background, calling for their deaths, screaming for their blood. “Burn them! Hanging’s too good.”

 

“And waste two good horses?” Shackler wanted the women swinging by their necks. Burning would usurp his one dramatic moment of riding between their mounts and slapping each horse with the flat of his sword. “Have your blood, have your fire, when I’m through with them.”

 

Meredith said quietly, “At this moment, it doesn’t matter what they say to us; what they do. Put this ugliness out of your mind. I love you; it is the only thing that matters between us.”

 

Faith stuck out her chin, and for a moment, Meredith thought the girl would leap from her horse-rope be damned-and strangle Shackler.

 

“You should have let me,” Faith said, referring to their failed tryst in the Order House.

 

It was the most outrageous comment Meredith ever heard from the lips of a person condemned to hang. Meredith gave the rambunctious woman an indulgent look. “You’d better let me do the talking from here out.”

 

How much “here” is left to us, Faith wondered, but she kept her mouth closed.

 

Shackler held up his hand for silence. “Have you any last prayers?” he asked the women.

 

Meredith did not bother to look at him; instead she focused on the few women among the surly rabble. “Would you follow a man who intends to kill the mother of his child? A girl child yes, but she is his only issue.”

 

It was not a plea, and the women heard it as a curious question meant to appraise their character.

 

Chaos ensued: women-born to the hardscrabble life of the plow and the painful act of childbearing-pushed, kicked and bit their way to Shackler’s horse. In front of his horrified henchmen, they pulled the cur from his terrified mount and pounded him with their fists.

 

One young woman had the presence of mind to grab Shackler’s sword and slash the hangman’s noose from the women before their horses reared up.

 

Petra soon followed, leading Meredith’s soldiers. After a rousing butt-kicking in the village square, she was still alert and ready for more of the same. “What’s your name?” she asked the raven-haired beauty who’d valiantly wielded the sword.

 

“Elise.”

 

“Well, Elise, you’d make a damn fine soldier.”

 

“She is-one of my very best I might add,” said Meredith.

 

Faith stared at the young woman, violet eyes drawing her attention. This was the soldier whose uniform she’d stolen.

 

Elise blushed, and her face grew even redder when Meredith bent to kiss her cheek.

 

“That is quite enough,” Faith said when Elise threw her arms around Meredith and happily returned the kiss. Faith hopped down from her horse, her spine still bristling from the girl’s brash intimacy. “Do not kill him!”

 

The crowd, fickle as a prima donna with several suitors, stared in confusion. “We,” Faith said, including Meredith, “prefer to give our criminals a fair trial.”

 

“And an even better execution,” Petra added. 

  

Meredith called gently to Faith. She helped the young woman up behind her on the horse-the steed was no Algernon, mind you, but he would serve well for her purpose. “We need to talk.”

 

Faith didn’t like the sound of this. “Talk”, the way Meredith said the word, had an ominous finality to it. She sighed. “If we must, so be it.”

 

Petra, after ordered her men to arrest any resisters left in the crowd; then she decided to follow Faith and Meredith. After hearing Meredith’s shocking confession, she was not about to miss a war that promised to be more thrilling than the battle in the village square. Lion and tiger: these two women would probably end up tearing each other apart.  

 

Meredith, completely onto Petra Fast and her sly tactics, waved her away. 

 

***

 

“You must have questions.” Meredith said.

 

Faith had a great many questions, but the bed in their room looked too inviting to pass up. Questions about paternity, and Wynona and Ivy (Meredith’s questionable taste in men), never made their way to her tongue. Faith was not selfish, just young, and their narrow escape from death had heightened the need to live in the present, the day, the hour.

 

In this hour, Faith wanted Meredith to herself, and ghosts from the past could not compete with that.

 

Meredith lay down beside her and waited for Faith to ask-what, she didn’t know; anything; nothing of consequence. Just ask. Instead, she found Faith’s body covering her own. She reversed positions-not easy to do with an eager colt-and undressed Faith.

 

Faith tried to kiss her, but Meredith turned her head. She gazed in adoration at Faith’s body. Her lips touched all that was Faith. Her hands moved leisurely. No hurry here. No rush.

 

Faith watched, mesmerized. She felt as if she were floating above the bed, absorbing sensations belonging to them both. Her fingers flexed and curled along Meredith’s spine like a kneading cat.  She relaxed, relinquished control as Meredith caressed and gave sustenance.

 

Curiosity led to fascination, as their feelings merged. Meredith was inside; mind and body- a unique touch elevating desire, conquering despair. Assured of her place in Meredith’s arms, Faith moved slowly, savoring the light pressure, the unexpected vibration of every nerve in her body. 

 

Faith looked deep into the grey eyes holding her captive. She could say she loved her, wanted her more than anyone in the world, but would Meredith want to hear the words? Feel them, she thought.

 

“I do,” Meredith said, enchanting Faith with her enigmatic smile.

 

A breeze drifted from the shoreline and settled over the lovers, cooling their skin. Perhaps it would rain in Irving after all.  

 

***  

 

“Mail call,” Anna announced like a drill sergeant. Though her pockets were stuffed with letters brought by clandestine mail runners, she decided to hand over Judge Ramon’s scrawled note first.

 

Dear Lady Stuart,

 

I offer my deepest regrets for the unfortunate and shocking incident which occurred without the knowledge and consent of the Village Authorities. Yet this is to be expected when two foreign armies confront one another on land that belongs to neither.

 

As for the business of Faith Hilling, it has been discovered by this Court that young Miss Hilling is innocent of malice and bodily harm toward Ernesta Hilling.

 

However, due to the young woman’s questionable association with the likes of one William Hager, and her flouting of prison law, it is my decision that she be placed under the guardianship of Sister Anna Faulkner for a term no less than three years, and not exceeding five.

 

You have my permission to carry on your good works against the horrid fever by which we find ourselves held captive. In the meantime, please order your soldiers to return to the ships you have so boldly docked in Irving waters.

 

Sincerely,

 

Ramon, J.D. 

 

 

Meredith took up her pen, and wrote beneath Ramon’s signature: “Does that include the soldiers I sent to nurse you back to health?”

 

“What an ass he is.” Anna held out the rest of the letters. “So, how is your friend Astrid?”

 

Meredith opened the letter and saw that Astrid’s first line was: How is your friend Anna?  Meredith knew the legendary rivalry went all the way back to the days of the women’s youth-a minor war sparked by Anna’s rejection of Astrid’s advances. “Um, she says my horse misses me.”

 

“Astrid has the intellectual capacity of fruit,” Anna said, pulling Meredith toward a row of ornate windows in her spacious office. “I feel like a captain without a crew, so you must understand that I find Ramon’s verdict appealing.”

 

“I suppose you would.” Meredith looked out the window and found Faith on the Order grounds exercising with a group of her soldiers. The girl had risen early, avoiding the opportunity to discuss Meredith’s past-or so Meredith thought. And this new military fervor both disturbed and impressed Meredith.

 

“Our little dove has grown sharp talons.” Anna leaned against the window, and gave Meredith’s shoulder a sympathetic squeeze. “I find it most troubling.”

 

“You want a new Order.” Meredith uttered, not as a question. “I may have way for us to both get what we want.”

 

“And you want Faith.”

 

Billy suddenly wandered into Meredith’s line of sight, head bandaged like a war hero. He did not join the soldiers, but stood transfixed; eyes sparkling with warmth, face glowing in adoration of the handsome officers. Meredith wondered if this was how she appeared whenever she gazed at Faith for long periods of time. “I must look possessed.”

 

“I beg your pardon?” said Anna, peering out the window again. “Ah, like me and chocolate. Care for a pecan truffle?”

 

“Anna, I haven’t had breakfast yet.”

 

“Well, you had something this morning. I could barely sleep through that racket.”

 

Meredith turned to her with a gentle smile. “In my letter, I’ll tell Astrid you haven’t changed one bit.”

 

***

 

Faith and Billy sat beneath the noonday sun sharing a packed lunch. “Beef from Melvin the butcher, and sweet potato muffins from Ernie,” Billy said.

 

“Ernie is a baker?” Faith, not one for sweets turned the confection over in her hands, brushing powdered sugar from the bread.

 

“No, Ernie works on the docks. He likes to bake in his spare time.”

 

She looked at Billy, a man as different from her as oil to water. For all her years in Irving, she knew so few people: Petra, Austin, Gregor- even old Judge Ramon who’d glared at her from his bedside when she’d refused to curtsy. She had not known any of them until returning to Irving, except Billy, who had an international charm that would be welcomed wherever he chose to go.

 

She handed Billy a small rucksack, or rather tossed it in his lap. “What’s this?” His mouth was stuffed with sweets, but she pretty much understood what he asked.

 

“It is all that I own.” Ramon had given her Ernesta’s small cottage and the adjacent land left behind, as well as a heavy bag filled with coins (Shackler’s slave offering). “I put everything in your name. Now you can travel-legally-and return to a real home when tired.”

 

“But Faith, you can be free with this-buy things and become a lady like Meredith.” Meredith. He was still a bit unnerved by Meredith being the Nightshade he’d feared throughout his life. “Hey, you only have to wait out three years, and Anna’s a soft touch.”

 

“Meredith will have moved on to another.”

 

“Don’t say that. You believe she gives bracelets to everybody? Never gave me one.”

 

“There were others…there will be more.”

 

“She doesn’t strike me as the type,” Billy patted her arm, “Scaring people in the dark, yeah,” he added, thinking of his first encounter with Meredith in Greenford Forest. No wonder people called her Nightshade.

 

“Why do you think Malcolm allowed us to board his ship?”

 

“Come on, Faith.”

 

“We had no money, no services to offer….”

 

“But our charming selves.”

 

“There are many charming women aboard ship,” she said thinking of the young soldier named Elise. Faith looked away. “I will serve my term in the Order,” she said quietly. “Then I will leave this Village and its red dust.”

 

“Can I go with you?”

 

The question shocked Faith, for Billy Hager was not one to ask for anything. “Yes,” she whispered. “It is not good to spend one’s life alone.”

 

***

 

“It’s about time you woke up, Captain.” Meredith leaned over Malcolm and pressed her lips to his cheek.

 

“Am I dying?”

 

Meredith shook her head and pulled up a chair. She supposed her display of affection was strange, never before having kissed her old friend and protector. Malcolm had been the one who prevented her father from thrashing her hide when she landed on Greenford shore with Ivy and Shackler’s child in her arms. “Idiot!” Edward Senior had said, and promptly given the baby to his son. “You cannot run my estate with a child dragging on your skirts.” Her Father had never understood what he called her capricious life, nor her love for Ivy.

 

“We received letters from Greenford.” She handed him the stack; then, mindful of his arm, read to him a short letter from Wynona. “I didn’t know you had been teaching her to sail.”

 

“Like her mother,” Malcolm said proudly. He then tempered his joy, knowing how much it hurt her not to receive similar correspondence from Wynona. “How is the surgery going?”

 

“They’re still lining up. I managed to bring a few of their healers out of hiding, so we’re progressing further than I had hoped.”

 

“I guess this means we can leave soon.” Malcolm sat up, demonstrating his scorn for Irving with a clenched fist. “Will you take Faith?”

 

“There’s no question of my not taking her.”

 

“Unfortunately, that answers the question of Billy Hager’s future.”

 

“I would never deprive you of a loving companion.”

 

“Please do.”

 

“At least he didn’t kiss you,” Meredith lied.

 

Malcolm came close to sucking his teeth, but considered it undignified. “How much does Faith know of your…history?” Malcolm thought the term past smacked of something odious rotting beneath a pier.  

 

“She doesn’t want to hear about it.” A reaction that had puzzled Meredith.

 

“Ah, the delusions of a youthful mind.”

 

“You say that as if I’m nothing more than a first crush.”

 

“That was not my intention. But…”

 

“What if?”

 

“Yes, what if?”

 

Maturity has its delusions too, Meredith thought, but she would not tell Malcolm of the fear-the nagging doubt haunting her. “You deal with your inamorato, and I’ll deal with mine.”

 

***

 

How to deal with the young woman was the question. A puzzle fraught with steep slopes and sharp thorns. Meredith sat alone in their small bedroom, holding Faith’s crumpled uniform on her lap. She wanted to take a match to it and throw it in the fireplace, especially when she overheard the conversation Faith was having with Petra just outside the bedroom window. Burn it!”

 

 

***

 

“…So Anna’s your new jailor. That doesn’t mean you have to stay cooped up all day.” Petra dipped her brush in a pail of whitewash, and began to paint over the insults scrawled on the Order house.

 

“Then you believe I would make a good soldier?” Faith asked, unaware that their voices had drifted up to the bedroom window.

 

“With me showing you the ropes, you’ll be one of the best.” Petra painted over the last of the misspelled word perverte.  “No one will ever put you up on a horse again.”

 

“Thank you,’ Faith said. It wasn’t her own fate that concerned her, but her inability to protect someone she loved. “Never again…”

 

“It could have happened to anyone.”

 

“But it did not.” Faith took up her brush. “Meredith had her soldiers in Shackler’s army all along. She knew we were safe!”  But she did not bother to tell me, Faith thought, with anger rising at Meredith’s mistrust.

 

“Faith, you telegraph everything you feel in that pretty face of yours. What Meredith did required a great deal of discretion.”

 

“No. She believed I was incapable of defending her.”

 

Petra looked at Faith, and shook her head. The girl had no idea how much Meredith loved her. She always seemed to look for the worst in people; agendas where there were none. “I’ll talk to Anna, okay?”

 

“I hope you are successful.”

 

“You’ll see. Anna’s a good bird.”

 

“Especially when you offer her chocolates.”

 

Petra laughed. “I’ll bring the old girl some candy so we can start tonight.”

 

***

 

“Where have you been?” Meredith immediately regretted the sound of her voice. Like a harping fishwife, she had advanced on Faith before the girl managed to sit down.

 

“I…” Faith prepared to explain, but threw her back up instead and sought the comfort of undressing in the bathroom.

 

Meredith followed, and said, “Answer me!” in a tone reminiscent of the way Faith had addressed her when they’d first met in Greenford.

 

“Do you care to bathe with me?”

 

“No. I drew the bath for you.” Meredith moved toward the door. “I took a bath at a decent hour, an hour when most people are in their homes preparing to go to bed.”

 

“Then leave me in peace.”

 

Faith sank into the tub after Meredith had slammed the door. She wondered as the sudsy water went to work on her sore muscles, how Meredith could have hidden so much from her, and how much more there was to the elusive woman she didn’t know. She had relied on the trick of touch to tell her about Meredith Stuart and it had failed her miserably.

 

Of course, any good general had backup plans, good strategies, which explained why Meredith hadn’t panicked when they slipped the noose around their necks. Even one of the soldiers who’d captured them belonged to Meredith’s Elite Guard! Hence the blindfolds.

 

Fuming with anger, Faith got out and dried herself. After dressing, she left the ship and headed for the Order House.

 

***

“Trouble sleeping?”

 

Malcolm woke though Faith had entered his room as quietly as possible. She took a seat beside his bed and held his hand, briefly pressing her forehead to the rough skin. “I fought with Meredith.”

 

“You always fight with her. Why is this time different?”

 

“She treats me like a child.” Faith’s hold tightened on his hand. “Did you know that Meredith had her own soldiers kidnap us?”

 

Malcolm laughed. How like Meredith to out play Shackler. He’d taught her well.

 

“We could have died!”

 

“I doubt it,” Malcolm said, trying to suppress the laughter in his voice. “Faith, don’t become someone else to satisfy Meredith.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“The uniform…”

 

“I am not-”

 

“You are, and successfully so.” Malcolm lay back on the pillow. “Meredith is a complicated woman, but very plain in her likes and dislikes. She would not appreciate what you’re doing.”

 

“I am sorry to disappoint you, but I refuse to serve as her obeisant little companion.”

 

“She has Algernon for that. Now the question is: what kind of woman do you want to become?” Malcolm turned his head. He clearly didn’t want Faith to give him the answer to that question.

 

Faith held Malcolm gently, feeling she would miss him as much as Meredith when it came time for them to leave Irving. He was her first introduction to Greenford and the possibilities of living life as her own woman. She held him until he fell asleep, and vowed that she would do all she could to speed their way home before the hurt inside deepened.

 

***

Moving Toward Home

 

Anna had gathered Irving’s missing healers together for Meredith’s approval. And what Meredith saw disturbed her deeply: The motley dozen stood before her in heavily waxed leather garments, leather hoods and masks that formed long beaks like birds of prey. They were a hideous sight and reeked from herbs and flowers held around theirs necks in burlap pouches.

 

“No wonder they call us witches,” Anna said.

 

“It protects us from the miasma,” one bold healer offered.

 

“Not much of that in the caves where we found you hiding, I suspect.” Anna placed a handkerchief to her nose even though she wore a surgical mask.

 

Meredith sat, quietly observing the strangers standing in her surgery. Their appearance would bring out the ignorance in others. How were they to heal if they looked like performers in a traveling circus?

 

“Remove those idiotic garments!”

 

The sole man in the group gasped. He stripped, registering hysterical laughter among the female healers at the rising condition of his nether regions. 

 

“I meant your outer garments,” Meredith said. She continued to wait while the man struggled into his shorts. “You cannot heal anyone if you are sick. Anna will inoculate you, and then I will inform you of what this plague is all about.”

 

“But the miasma-”

 

“The plague is not a cloud! If it were,” Meredith sniffed, “not one of you would fall ill. Now-”

 

Meredith paused when the group of healers turned swiftly toward to door. Some actually flinched when Faith walked in; still thinking the air outside was polluted.

 

Even clad in surgical cap and gown, Faith was an alluring creature. Her eyes sparkling over the blue mask furthered the distress of the male healer. He held his hands over his crotch hoping she wouldn’t notice his misery. But Faith’s eyes were for Meredith.

 

She approached and brought Meredith hands to her forehead in full Sisters greeting. Then she stood aside and let Meredith address the chagrined students.

 

Before Meredith could speak, the healers lined up and greeted her and Anna in the same manner.

 

“This is going to be a long day,” Anna said, offering only one hand so she could continue eating her favorite chocolate uninterrupted.

 

Meredith gave Faith a strained look. She’d missed having the girl in her arms last night. It wasn’t the sex, as much as it was the closeness, the comfort and trust she thought they had developed. Now, the glint of defiance in Faith’s eyes and the anger Meredith felt in the girl confused her. Yes, it was going to be a long day…a long miserable day.

 

As if to mock her dark thoughts, the sky opened up and dumped rain on Irving for the first time in months. The healers cheered and laughed, but Meredith groaned. Two weeks ago, she had instructed her soldiers to build fires containing herbs and brimstone, around the caves and borders of Irving to keep the rodents out. Now the wily vermin would have no trouble entering the village.

 

Faith asked for quiet, and much to Meredith’s distaste, the healers gathered around Faith and locked hands in the Sisters’ Prayer.

 

Anna licked the chocolate from her fingers. “I’ll get the hypos.”

 

“And some pills for me,” Meredith said. “I feel a monstrous headache coming on.”

 

*** 

 

Faith stood in the rain waiting for Meredith, the yellow dress she wore clearly marking the outline of her breasts held by a thin undergarment. The rain had a healing effect upon her, damping down the anger and betrayal she felt.

 

Meredith, in a bad humor, had finally exited the surgery and stood quietly watching the young woman who held her head up reverently to the sky. Faith opened the top button of her dress and raindrops spilled over her pale skin. Meredith sighed. The girl’s beauty was even more apparent under grey skies, like the last fleeting light caught in a black storm.

 

“You make me thirsty.” Meredith pressed her mouth to the exposed skin and drank the cool rain. 

 

What kind of woman do you want to become? Malcolm’s words echoed in Faith’s mind, and her arms slip around Meredith’s waist. Her lips brushed Meredith’s forehead, her ears, and her mouth.

 

They stood for a long time kissing in the cold rain.

 

***

 

 

“I have half a mind to hang you,” Judge Ramon peered over his glasses at Shackler, “thank the Sisters, you’ve got the good half today.”

 

Shackler, hands chained in front and feet shackled, raised his battered head. “If I may-”

 

“You may not!” Ramon banged his gabble to punctuate his point. “I know your past-your history with former wives, but I’ll spare the Court the lurid details. You are not a man, but a viper!”

 

“Judge-”

 

“Shut the hell up!” Ramon thundered. “Twenty years in Irving lockup for attempted murder, thirty-five years for the murder of Ernesta Hilling…” Ramon took off his glasses and stared at Meredith. “You see, Lady, we did find poison from a plant grown only in the Southlands. And, according to Billy Hager’s father, Mrs. Hilling was alive when he went looking for his errant son.”

 

Billy’s head shot up. He looked around the courtroom as if expecting his father to be present. The man had worked him to death since his return, and had had the nerve to send him out with a shovel afterwards to bury Irving’s dead.

 

“Murderer!” Faith yelled, and the rest of the court took up the chant.

 

“Shut up!” Ramon yelled at the murmuring crowd. Then he waved his gabble at Shackler. “Guards, clear this vermin from my presence.”

 

Petra, along with another officer, gripped Shackler, sinking her nails into his massive neck.

 

Meredith was about to leave with Faith when Ramon banged his gabble again. “Not so fast,” he said. “In the matter of Faith Hilling, the Court remands you to the custody of Sister Anna Faulkner for three to five years. If you dare, young lady, to step foot off Irving soil, I’ll have you shot. That’ll teach you to break out of our jail!” Ramon glared at Faith. “Have you something to say?”

 

“Yes-”

 

Meredith moved quickly and slapped her hand over Faith’s mouth. “No, Judge,” she spoke for the unrepentant girl. “Sister Anna is more than capable of keeping Faith in line,” she lied.

 

***

 

Meredith and Faith resumed the grueling work of training Irving’s healers to think like physicians. Hours melted quickly into days as they inoculated the villagers. Burials slowed, and plant life flourished under Irving’s rainy skies. And Faith grew more anxious as the number of patients dwindled down to a paltry few….

 

“Meredith,” she said, as they lay quietly in their bedroom, “is three years too long to wait for me?”

 

Meredith turned over and slipped her arm around Faith’s neck, though knowing the young woman no longer trusted what she found in her sense of touch. They’d just finished a rousing night of lovemaking, and Meredith thought her bones had liquefied. She wasn’t too sure about her power to speak either. But Faith’s relentless stare forced her to strain her raw vocal cords. “You were the last thing I thought of when I fell ill in Greenford, and the first thing I yearned for when I woke.”

 

“Does that mean yes or no?” Faith asked suspiciously.

 

Meredith rolled on top of her, quieting her questions with a sound kiss. She let her tongue explore Faith’s mouth, and her hands moved quickly, proving to the girl that she wasn’t the only one capable of thoroughly surprising a lover.

 

They fell to the floor, and Meredith yelped, wondering why they always seemed to end up there. Faith laughed-an unusual sound from the normally shy girl.

 

“Don’t laugh,” Meredith struggled for breath, “when I’m trying to seduce you.”

 

“You can seduce me with one look.”

 

“You should have told me that a long time ago. I could have saved myself a lot of trouble,” Meredith said, finding an interesting spot on Faith neck to taste.

 

“I am trouble?”

 

“The best and the worst kind,” Meredith replied then groaned. A painful twinge in her back fought for control over the rest of her aroused body. “If you help me get on the bed, I’ll show you how to tame a troublesome woman.”

 

“I do not want to tame you.” Faith pulled her up, and they rolled under the covers.

 

***

 

 

  Meredith stood aboard the Stuart, watching solemnly as her Elite Guard escorted four litters of Greenford soldiers-Malcolm among them-who had suffered wounds during the skirmishes in Irving. Then her eyes fell on the two stunning lieutenant majors in her Guard. They could be sisters; the raven hair, strong lithe bodies… The only thing different about their appearance was the startling blue eyes and sensuous mouth of the taller of the two. The familiar sway of the hips and slight swing of the arms of the young woman brought a smile to Meredith’s lips.

 

As the last of her Guard boarded the ship, Meredith opened a grey marble urn and lifted it out toward the water. Dirt streamed forth settling in a red dust over the villagers gathered on the pier.

 

“How dare her!” said Judge Ramon, seated in his wheelchair. He growled at his houseman to push his wheelchair closer. And so engrossed was Ramon in having the last word with Meredith Stuart, that he had completely missed Sister Anna, Billy, Petra, Austin and Gregor, and Meredith’s gang of spies, boarding the ship.

 

“Young woman,” the judge called up to Meredith, “you will not be welcomed upon our shores again. I’ll have you arrested should you return.”

 

Meredith smiled pleasantly. “Judge Ramon, you have nothing in Irving I want.”

 

“We’re ready to go.” Howard stood beside her like an excited puppy.

 

“Give our gracious hosts a three cannon salute.” Meredith ordered.

 

Howard selected two men to help with the cannons. The crowd below relaxed when they saw the artillery turned seaward. But, at the last moment, Howard sung his cannon around and hit the fountain in the village square.

 

“Damn!” Judge Ramon yelled among the outraged screams of the crowd.

 

“So sorry,” said Meredith, not looking a bit sorry. “I will forward the necessary reparations.” She turned, and, as if on cue, her ships backed out to sea leaving Irving’s red dust to its ungrateful, but plague-free citizens.

 

 

***

 “Oh, God.” Meredith kissed Faith’s cheek and ran her fingers through the dark hair. “How long will it take for this stuff to wash out?”

 

“Lt. Major Elise says it is permanent.”

 

“She dyes her hair?” Meredith asked, surprised. The Lt. Major had given her a delicious chill once or twice whenever she watched her soldiers train.

 

“She said that it highlights her eyes.” Faith stared at Meredith with a pained expression.

 

“Um, I never noticed,” Meredith replied wisely. “Listen, I didn’t anticipate the extra passengers aboard ship, so Anna will be bunking with us.”

 

“Oh. Oh.” It suddenly dawned on Faith that their erotic activities would be seriously curtailed during the long journey back to Greenford.

 

“It’s really is too bad, because I was looking forward to making love to this beautiful creature with black hair.” Meredith gave her a peck on the lips. “She’s quite stunning you know.”

 

“If you are referring to Elise, I will throw her overboard.”

 

“After tonight, you’ll probably throw me overboard.”

 

***

 

Faith lay between Meredith’s soft purr, and Anna tree-rattling snore. One of her ears tingled in an aroused fever, the other throbbed in pain. Now she knew what Meredith had meant by “throw me overboard.”

 

Anna had told her earlier, “Should you find yourself seeking pleasure tonight, remember which way to turn.” Faith could only blush, but Meredith had laughed uproariously as Faith slipped into bed between them.

 

This was indeed hell: aroused and irritated at the same time. A condition Faith hoped she would never find herself in again.

 

She tried to think of all the places they could slip away to: The ship’s hold? No, Billy would most likely be wandering around playing with the machinery; the crow’s nest? No, they would probably fall out, both reaching orgasm as they hit the water; the mess hall?  And on it went until Faith’s thoughts were shattered by another blast from Anna. This time, the snore sounded like a foghorn.

 

Faith, in a complicated move, backed against the headboard, and inched her legs closer, then flipped her feet over the covers. She treaded lightly over the bed. Then she slid to the floor, dressed in her uniform, and crawled to freedom.

 

***

 

“Hello, sailor,” Meredith crept up behind Faith, startling the young woman with her low growl. “Come to this side of the ship often?”

 

Meredith snaked an arm around Faith’s waist, and opened the green trousers. Her hand slipped inside, and Faith held onto the rails, afraid to trust her weak legs.

 

“Something tells me you like public places,” Meredith whispered.

 

“Oh,” was all Faith could say. Meredith’s deft touch was driving her crazy. She thought she would surely fall over the rails from the next delicious vibration.

 

“You know,” Meredith continued, “there’s a certain spot in a woman when touched, makes her…” Meredith stopped and listened to Faith’s small whimpers. “I think that was the spot. Was it?” She teased the girl, holding her other hand firmly to Faith’s stomach in case she should inadvertently drop overboard. “Maybe it’s lower. How’s that, better?”

 

“Mere…Meredith…”

 

“I’m listening.” Meredith kissed Faith’s ear, and pressed her body closer. “I feel you trembling. Should I stop?” She asked, but she continued to move.

 

A sudden wind caught them, drowning out Faith’s weak reply.

 

“But if I stop now…” Meredith licked her neck.

 

“No! I said no.”

 

“Do you mean no, as in please stop, Meredith? Or: don’t-stop-Meredith-you’re-the-greatest-lover-I’ve-ever-had?” All this said to the rapid movement of her fingers, Meredith squeezed Faith and waited for a response.

 

“Only…lover...”  Faith gripped the rails and leaned forward slightly. Whatever spot, Meredith was talking about it must be the spot she touched now because Faith collapsed from the power of the sensations spreading belly to chest.

 

Faith seemed to fold up; crumple from the lush feeling taking over her body. And Meredith still moved inside her. “I-” It hit her again, this time a sharp swift orgasm.

 

Meredith slid behind Faith, holding her curled body. “I think we just gave Billy the best performance he’s ever seen.”

 

The boy had the audacity to wink at them from beneath the lights on the crow’s nest. 

 

Despite the cold sea wind, they lay there for hours in the dark, holding, kissing. And Meredith once again found the right spot as the Stuart carried them home.

 

 

~The End~

 

 

Part I    Home  Back to Janeway & Seven