Sondranos: The Narrative of Leon Bishop (31 page)

I flashed back to the moment
outside, when we’d all stopped to cook dinner: Melanie’s panic
attack, and how we’d all allowed Davion to help without sayinging a
word – simply because we thought it was something Davion could
handle.

“
We cared,” I
said.

False Daniel popped into my
mind: ‘You only cared when she could help your cause. How
delightfully fair-weathered of you.’

“
Outside of
the cellar, how many of you asked about me?” Melanie asked. She
leaned forward. “I don’t care about ‘oh, Mels, how are you?’ or any
of that. You all assumed that I was doing fine. My entire life was
in that city. Annalise was outside, and Kayt was with someone. Even
then, she and Lancaster lived outside the limits. Leon, you’re on
vacation. How many of you stopped to think that I’d just lost every
bit of my life?”

“
That doesn’t
give you reason to side with them,” Kayt muttered.

“
No, it
doesn’t. But it gives me the right to do things on my own,” she bit
back.

“
So you
pretended to be brainwashed,” I said.

“
You guys
acted like I was just another girl in the group, and never bothered
to get to know me,” Melanie said. “You kept making assumptions
about me and what I’d want to do, but you never actually talked to
me or asked questions. When it was clear you all had your own
circle, I made an assumption of my own and moved forward with my
own agenda.”

I’ve done my best to recall
exactly how I thought about Melanie up to this point, and looking
back on the pages I’ve written: she’s right. I passed her on to
Davion and Annalise assumed she could take care of the car simply
because Davion said she could. Even in the woods, Melanie had been
nothing but straightforward with us when we spoke to her, and yet
we still glossed over her when it came to the same questions we’d
asked of each other.

While it was true that we were
busy, it was also true that we’d made time for each other.

The silence was heavy, enough
to make me think the wind pushing up against the Keep was an
aftereffect of the anger Melanie was trying to convey. She was
right. I’d asked about her in the cellar, but that was it. I’d
spent all my time with Annalise, listening to her story and talking
with her. I’d even given Kayt more consolation than Melanie. I
suddenly found it very hard to blame her for thinking she couldn’t
come to us with her thoughts.

“
What about
your father?” I asked. “Did you learn anything?”

Melanie told us the whole
story, and I hope I’ve done it justice. My hand is tense, and I
stutter to even write. My many mistakes fly past my eyes.

Davion was
nervous, that much
was clear. Melanie
followed him as they parted ways with Father Corin, just after
locking Leon, Annalise, and Kayt in the chamber room. When Father
Corin was far enough away, Davion turned to Melanie.

“
I thought I
was protecting you,” he started.

“
From
what?”

“
But now, I
don’t know what to believe. I’d hoped you’d moved past this, but
it’s become clear you need an answer. Father Corin sentenced your
father to death. I sent him here shortly after he came to me at the
Abbey.”

“
So, you knew
the entire time?”

“
And I am
paying for it,” Davion answered. “I thought he was looking for
guidance, so I sent him to Father Corin. A couple weeks later, I
heard that he got so drunk one night that he burst into a young
woman’s room in the barracks, started arguing with her over why his
beliefs were the best. When asked to leave, he assumed it was a
fight and killed the young woman by cracking her over the head with
a hammer. Father Corin took charge of the situation, and your
father was killed in the scuffle.”

“
If you
didn’t want to tell me then, why are you telling me
now?”

“
Father Corin
told me the Belovore return would be an effortless fight and that
the Belovores would take back what they wanted without any
resistance. I presumed it meant a peaceful surrender. I have reason
to believe your father was a victim. Father Corin did not tell me
the full truth about the Belovores, so I believe he was not up
front about your father.” Davion grabbed her hands. He’d been close
to weeping, but held back the tears.

Melanie laughed and let her
hands fall to her side. Davion’s attempt at pacification turned to
curiosity. “Davion, you have to know that Percival Nesbit wasn’t
exactly a good man. My Dad was this huge misogynist who looked up
to guys who treated women like objects, and beat my mother
occasionally. I wasn’t looking to ‘reunite with my daddy.’” Melanie
took a breath, “The truth is: I just wanted to know if he was
dead.”

Davion closed his eyes and set
his face towards the sky. He sighed and sucked in a deep breath.
His frown was one of approval. He then took Melanie’s hand again
and held it. “Come then, allow me to show you around the
compound.”

What Melanie
learned and explained
in her tourist-like
stroll around the commune, I have already described. She was taken
to the Keep, to the barracks, and shown the living spaces of more
than half the area. They strolled in the gardens, and watched as
the commune set the crates of weapons along the barracks wall,
readying them for service.

After she was
done, I
stated: “Davion’s not doing too
well with this.”

“
I felt we
might be able to use Davion’s doubts if we need to get out of here.
I didn’t have the heart to tell him that Father Corin was probably
right to punish my dad, and that what happened was probably very
true.”

“
What have
they been saying about the Belovores?” Kayt asked.

“
Everyone
here knows about their return – but Father Corin told them, just
like Davion, it would be non-violent. He says the Belovores have
returned and will need help from the commune, as they will be
looked upon as monsters by the colony. There are weapons all over
the commune, and the people here think they’re supposed to protect
the Belovores when it comes down to it. Only, nobody within these
walls has a clue that Sondranos is actually gone. They know the
Belovores landed, but they’re certain the skirmishes were small and
contained to only the more violent of us.”

Annalise and Kayt nodded,
Melanie wiped her eyes and sat back. I said: “Either way, we have
to get out of here. The Belovores are already massing behind the
walls.”

“
Why?”
Melanie asked.

“
Don’t know –
but it might have to do with this idea of protection you mentioned.
There are weapons all over,” I said. “Knowing that Davion might be
doubting himself is definitely something we can use.”

“
I sensed
fear when he told me about my father,” Melanie’s tone
softened.

Kayt fumbled with the fork and
spoon cup left in the centre of the table. She pulled one of the
forks away and pocketed it. I was about to do the same when
Annalise set her hand on my wrist. “They may not notice one, but
they would notice more than one missing,” she said. “Kayt, hand it
to me.”

“
No,” she
widened her eyes and sat back. The lack of seat backings made her
seem about to lose balance and fall off the wooden bench. “Get your
own if you want one.”

“
You aren’t
equipped to handle any kind of weapon,” Annalise reasoned. “None of
us is equipped for this.”

“
I’m the best
one to handle this thing.”

“
We’ve lost,
kid,” Annalise said.

Melanie said, dry: “Kayt,
you’re running on anger right now. You want everyone to pay for
Lancaster, and that’s dangerous. If we want to be alive by morning,
we can’t let our emotions control us. I wouldn’t have lasted if I
hadn’t learned to bottle my own anger away.”

Somehow, I felt like that was
my own fault.

“
I
understand,” Kayt said. “But I’m still holding on to the
fork.”

Annalise sighed and let the
subject of the fork drop. The unbroken Annalise would have stood
up, taken the fork, and sat down without another word. The dust was
settled thickly enough along the hall to tickle the back of my
throat. I could feel an itch starting where my sinuses began to
swell. Annalise looked at the absence of stained glass windows,
which had been covered or replaced with boards and safety beams.
Melanie and Kayt looked at the same lack of windows behind Annalise
and I.

A trio of Forgiven entered with
the smell of bread and cabbage,. One was in her robes while the
other two had the appearance of being rushed. A large, portly man
who carried plates and took up the rear had beads of sweat along
his neckline. One brought a crock pot, which was the source of the
cabbage scent. Behind it wafted the smell of bacon – something I
didn’t realize they had. He pulled a sliver of cheese out and set
it down. Apparently, this was their idea of a spread.

Looking on it now, we should
have told Melanie that we understood, and I should have apologized
for having treated her as a secondary person. Annalise was distant,
and wouldn’t have cared much enough to apologize. I can’t say I
blame her. We all sat looking at our plates and the food set in
front of us, but nobody touched it. Appetite fled, and the food was
nothing more than an aromatic table decoration.

Half an hour later, a Belovore
walked into the room and settled on the pulpit.

The three servers bowed as they
left without a word.

“
Welcome,”
the Belovore said. “I am Velric.”

“
Ambassador
Velric?” Annalise chimed in. We all held our breath.

“
Yes, of
course,” he said. A glimmer in Kayt’s hand flashed briefly. Melanie
must have seen it too, as she elbowed the girl. Kayt looked down at
the table..

“
How old are
you?” Kayt asked.

“
Old enough,”
he said. He moved past the table and shuffled to the seat behind
it. He motioned with his two large arms to some people out of
sight, barking some incomprehensible order. The two who’d served us
rushed in, grabbed the table by both ends, and moved it out of the
way. They fled, and we heard the door close behind them.

Velric sat before us on what
could have been his pedestal. He was a short Belovore. The creases
in the pitch black plates of his chest were a different shade
altogether. They’d greyed, and looked like someone had sealed the
plates to his chest with pavement putty. I felt like, if someone
were to run a finger down one of the creases, then dust would
cascade to the ground. His face was flat, and smooth. He must have
lost those in age. The chelimbs around his waist blended into his
plates perfectly. I could have easily believed they hadn’t worked
for centuries.

“
I do not
trust any of you,” he said. “And I refuse to feign the image that
you are joining us. Your passivity does not convince
me.”

“
Let us earn
that trust,” I said.

“
I couldn’t
care less about what you earn,” Velric said. “My people outnumber
yours now, and we are preparing to fortify this position from your
oncoming offense. Soon, I won’t have to worry about the blight
caused by your colonization.”

“
But you’re
arming everyone,” Kayt said. We all sensed that this wasn’t a
normal meeting, but Kayt seemed to be taking it offensively.
“There’s no way you can survive this.”

“
My people
are past recovery,” Velric said. “When my people fled, I stayed
behind to ensure the preservation of my people’s history and
beliefs on the surface, expecting them to return gloriously. When
it became clear that your colony intended to eradicate every trace
of us, I discovered how easy it was to use your own fiction against
you.”

Kayt jumped out of her seat.
“You aren’t convincing anyone about your cause.”

“
My presence
is the only reason for my cause,” Velric answered, turned around
and stepped onto the platform. He set his hands on his seat, and
twisted into it. His lips had twisted into a smirk. “The man you
call Father assumes I am here to try and convince you, but I know
that is a fruitless gesture. Instead, I am wasting time, building
the Father’s confidence, and waiting for the slaughter to
begin.”

Kayt stood. Melanie held her
back. The fork was evident in her hand - the prongs poked outside
of her fist, the handle jutting out like a pike. I doubt Velric saw
it. Velric watched, and if he could have, he’d be wearing a
smile.

“
Stupid
girl,” she said. Velric leaned forward. “You stupid, stupid girl.
You keep talking and talking, but you aren’t doing anything worth
your skin.”

I suddenly had the feeling that
Annalise wasn’t talking to Kayt so much as herself.

Kayt stepped back. She knocked
into the seating for the table behind us as Annalise advanced.
“Give me that fork,” she said. Kayt wiped away a couple of tears
that had begun to fall. Annalise grabbed Kayt by the wrist, twisted
Kayt’s fingers, and jerked the fork out of her hand. She then
pushed Kayt down into her seat. Annalise, brandishing the utensil,
looked at me. I saw nothing in her eyes. No spark, no light – if I
could claim to have seen even the faintest hope in her eyes then, I
would say it with full confidence. However, all I could truly see
was a woman who was ready to end her life.

“
Don’t,” I
whispered.