Touchdown Daddy (135 page)

“You should go back,” Natalie said quietly.

It was late afternoon and she was five months pregnant. She sat by the window, sipping tea. She gazed at him as he sprawled on the sofa near the fireplace, quickly tapping away at the holographic screens that appeared in front of him. It had been three months since they had found the scroll and he had healed fast, much quicker than a human usually would. She saw a change in him. He had a quiet determination about him as he worked with amazing speed. He had been searching for Ornek for months and they still couldn’t trace him. Ornek was alive, that much Erdal had made sure of, but he couldn’t locate his current location. The ‘valley’ was his only lead and Estion was huge, with the great mountain range stretching far across the planet, and many villages which had sprung up along the range.

He didn’t look up for a while and then finally he said, “I need to find his exact location, Natalie. I can’t go back without his help.”

In the short time that she had lived with him there, she could feel the anger consuming him. She felt it seething under his cool demeanor. It was intimidating at times, and she knew he wouldn’t rest until he had killed King Zutaar.

“Even if you don’t find him, you should go on your own. You should claim your rightful place as king,” she said cautiously, not certain how he would react. “Find a way...”

She still didn’t know him well. He loved her like anything, and if needed, he would lay down his life for her. But he was a tortured soul. A man fighting his own demons... she would always feel a tug in her heart when she saw the turmoil in his eyes. She had once found him alone, brooding, and she saw tears streaming down his face as sobs racked his body. He didn’t know she was there. In that moment, feeling helpless, her stomach had twisted, and she felt a tug in her heart.

“I’m trying, Natalie,” he said, in a cold, seething voice that made her shudder. He wasn’t mad at her. She understood him that well, because she had fallen for him, and it hurt her to see him like that.

Natalie knew he would find Ornek. Her instincts told her that. But she also knew he was hesitant. It has been a long time since his kingdom had been taken, and many of his people thought he was dead. They had been lucky up till now that the king’s mercenaries hadn’t found them. They were still lurking out there, looking.

***

Later that night, Erdal came into the bedroom as she sprawled on the bed.

“I have found an address,” he said, a strange gleam in his eyes as he lay next to her. “I’m guessing he’ll be there.”

“That’s great,” she said, smiling up at him.

“I’ll leave tomorrow morning. The place is quite far off and I’ll be gone a few days. I’m sorry I have to leave you alone here,” he said, as he gazed deep into her eyes. She saw genuine concern there.

“I’ll be okay,” she said, with a sad smile, as he pulled her into his arms and kissed her deeply.

***

The next morning, Erdal left in his car to look for his guardian. He kissed Natalie one last time and held her close. “Stay indoors and lock up. Keep safe. I’ll come back for you,” he said, as he lightly touched her belly that was beginning to show now. “And take care of our little one too,” he said, a shy smile curled the corner of his lips. She thought he looked like a young boy.

He wore dark pants and shirt and his long, dark cloak flapped about his ankles as he hopped in the car and flew off.

Thoughts raced through his mind as he rushed toward his destination, over the mountains and trees and far beyond the horizon.

The night was closing in when he reached the village. The two moons were rising in the sky. It didn’t take long for him to find the place. The remote village wasn’t very crowded and it had only a few houses constructed on the hill. He pulled the hood of his cloak over his head and went up to the house. A lone lamp hung near the door, its dim blue light only bright enough to see your way through the door. He knocked twice and waited. The door creaked opened and an old man with silver-white hair stood there. He wore ancient robes, the kind they had worn when he was a kid.

“I am here to see Ornek Zorlu. He formerly served as Royal Guard to King Bu’Rak Rezan Urquiorra,” Erdal said. He was careful, as he wanted to be sure and didn’t want to raise any suspicion.

Ornek gazed at the hooded man at the door for a while.

“Young man, tell me your purpose. Why do you want to see him?” Ornek played along, stepping cautiously.

“Because he told me to come,” Erdal said. He saw the light shift in the gray eyes of the old man. He had a strong feeling this was the man. It was a distant memory, but he remembered. The man had aged but his eyes were the same.

“Erdal,” the old man whispered, incredulous. “My lord, I never thought I would see you again.” He bowed slightly in respect, and when he looked up there were tears in his eyes.

“Ornek,” Erdal said gently, as he showed him the Erasmeth. “You gave this to me a long time ago.”

“Come on in,” Ornek said, motioning for him to enter. “It’s not safe out here.”

Erdal stepped inside and threw back his hood. The house was sparsely decorated but clean. The west wall was lined with books, and two old chairs and a table were placed in the center. The east wall had a window, and a table stood underneath it. Ornek poured out wine in two glasses and handed him a glass, as he gestured for him to sit.

“Thank you,” Erdal said, taking the glass. “I see you are alone.”

“Yes, my lord,” the old man said. “My wife died a long time back and my daughter lives far away with her husband.”

Erdal pulled out the scroll from the Erasmeth and handed it to the old man. He saw how he recognized his own hand and when he looked up, tears came to his eyes. He told Erdal how he had served his father, the true king, for centuries, until that one fateful night when everything changed.

Erdal told him all. Everything. Who he was and what he had become.

“Ornek... I don’t know who I am, and I may not be the same man,” Erdal said pensively, as he sipped his wine. “I have killed and abducted women for Zutaar. And I didn’t even know the scroll was there until Natalie found it.”

He took another swig. “I’ve been on the run. Natalie and I are hiding in a cabin house in the mountains. But now I want him dead.”

Ornek gazed at him for a long time and his eyes softened. He saw the little boy who had grown into a warrior. A man who had endured all and survived. He was a warrior who hid his tormented soul behind the harsh exterior of an assassin.

“Natalie... Your mate?” Ornek inquired, raising a brow.

“Yes, my mate and fiancée,” Erdal replied. “She was the one who told me to claim my rightful place.”

“And she’s right,” the old man said softly. “How is she?”

“She’s doing okay,” he said and paused for a second. “She’s expecting our first,” he added.

“That’s good news, my lord. Congratulations,” he said, smiling. “Erdal, the royal Urquiorra blood courses through your veins, and there is no doubt you are the true heir,” he said in a sober voice. “I will help you claim your rightful place.” He added.

“We must overthrow the King,” Erdal said, as rage seeped into his eyes. “That is the only way.”

“First, we will go there and you will claim the throne. I have enough evidence to convince the Council members who might question us,” Ornek said. “If he resists, then you do what you have to do.”

“Great,” Erdal said. “We leave now. We’ll stop over at the cabin and check on Natalie, and then we will go on.”

“Yes, my lord. I’ll go pack up then,” the old man said.

***

Natalie was fast asleep when the mercenaries entered the house. One of the men clamped a hand over her mouth, and she woke up with a start. He roughly dragged her out of bed and pinned her hands behind her as her back collided against his chest. She clawed at the man’s hand covering her mouth, struggling to get free.

“Don’t make a sound or I’ll slit your throat, woman.” She stalled, scared out of her wits.

Her heart raced, and she felt the baby kick as tears streamed down her face. Then the color drained from her face as she saw him enter the room. Gezek strode in and gawked at her. She blanched, shuddering at his sight.

She was sure they would kill her. Oh, Erdal, where
are
you?

“Search the house, find the traitor,” Gezek barked.

“Sir, the house is empty.” One of the henchmen said.

“Where is he?” he said in a raspy voice, as he came closer to her. The man took his hand away from her mouth and she gasped for air. Her body trembled uncontrollably as tears streamed down her face. She must protect the baby...

“I... I don’t know,” she sobbed, hysterical.

“Put her out and take her away. We don’t have much time,” he said, as he gave her a disgusted look and strode away.

The man holding her pressed something cold and hard into the side of her neck and her skin burned. In the next few seconds, her vision blurred and she fell into oblivion.

Erdal clenched his teeth and balled his hands into fists, knuckles turning white as he held the modular control of the car. The car flew over the peaks and sped through the night toward the castle. The open front door, the ransacked house, the empty bed and no sign of Natalie drove him crazy. And then there was the mark carved on the door that said the king’s men had been there. His chest constricted as terrible thoughts raced through his mind. What if they were torturing her? What if she were already dead? And what of the baby? He screamed inside. If something happened to her, he would never forgive himself. A splitting headache thrummed at his temples as he tried to control his rage.

Ornek felt the young man’s distress. The rage surging through his blood was almost tangible. He knew Erdal would stop at nothing now. He won’t rest till he had found her.

They still had a long way to go as they flew through the breaking dawn over the horizon.

***

Natalie woke up and pain seared her head. She gasped, her breathing labored. She tried sitting up. A wave of nausea hit her and, bending over, she threw up. Her vision blurry, she tried to focus in the dim blue light of the small room. She recognized the place. It was the same cell they had locked her up in months ago. Her hands were free but her feet were in shackles which were tied to a chain on the wall. She still couldn’t breathe properly and she felt pressure on her chest. The pills, she must take them now... and then it hit her, she wasn’t carrying any. How long had she been there? She wanted water, her throat felt dry. And she needed to pee. She wished Erdal were there. With that thought, her eyes pooled with tears and she sobbed uncontrollably.

The door to the cell creaked open and in stepped Gezek. His heavy boots clomped on the floor as he strode toward her.

She cringed and crept back toward the wall as a chill ran down her spine.

“Tell me, woman,” he said, in his cold, raspy voice, “where is he?”

“P-Please... I need the b-blue pills...” she gaspe,d trying to catch her breath.

A sharp, burning pain hit her cheek as her head turned sideways.

“Shut up, bitch!” he snarled. “Answer me first. Where is Erdal?”

She was shocked by the impact of the slap, and blood oozed from her nose and dripped onto the front of her white night dress. A fit of coughing shook her for a while. When it was over she lay on the floor, only half conscious.

“Get up!” he barked, and kicked her leg. “You pathetic whore,” he spat at her.

She screamed. “Please... stop... he’s gone,” she gasped, as tears streamed down her face. “He’s gone to meet someone.”

“Who?”

“His guardian,” she said, wanting to get the ordeal over with. She couldn’t risk the life of her baby.

“Give me a name!” he barked, as he bent down and roughly clasped her jaw with his hand and made her look into his beady, dark eyes.

“Ornek...” She whispered. “Th-that’s all I know. Please let me go now,” she implored. The hardest of hearts would have melted, but Gezek was blind to another’s pain.

He let go of her face and slapped her hard, again. She fell on her side, unconscious.

“I said shut up, or I will cut out your tongue,” he seethed. “Stupid cunt,” he grunted, and strode out of the cell, shutting the door behind him.

***

It was noon the next morning when Erdal pulled his hood down his face as he followed Ornek toward the throne room. He had slung his Light-Shard over his shoulder and his jaw was clenched. He was late... he should have got here earlier. A strange gleam lit up his emerald eyes and there was lethal resolve in his step.

Zutaar was sat on his throne, talking to Gezek, when Ornek and Erdal were led into the throne room.

Erdal couldn’t wait any longer. He stepped forward and took off his hood. The king’s guards immediately surrounded them, swords and crossbows pointing at them.

“Zutaar,” he said, in a cold and demanding voice, “where is Natalie?”

“Look who’s here,” he mocked. “The rat is out of its hole.” His laughter echoed through the halls.

“Where is she?” Erdal demanded, in a seething voice, as blood pounded in his veins.

“She’s in the dungeons, Erdal,” he said, calmly. “And I will punish you both as fugitives.

“My lord, I’m sorry, but please hear me out,” Ornek began. “Erdal here is the rightful heir to the throne. I have evidence to back it up.”

“And who are you to make such a claim?” the king demanded.

“I am Ornek Zorlu, Royal Guard to King Bu’Rak Rezan Urquiorra. Lord Erdal here is his son, the rightful heir.”

Zutaar’s expression shifted.

“Take them to the yard and behead them!” he yelled at the guards.

The guards closed in and, with a swift move, Ornek unsheathed his Katana and beheaded the first guard who came at him. He was fast for an old man. He quickly killed off the other three men who came at him next.

Erdal glimpsed Ornek in combat with Gezek next, as Ornek parried his blow. Then, swiftly, he slit his throat, and Gezek dropped to the floor, dead. Erdal quietly admired the old man’s skills as he quickly made his way toward the throne, jumping over the bodies on his way. His heart thrummed in his chest, rage surging through his blood as he gripped the hilt tighter.

Zutaar got up and unsheathed his own sword. He lunged at Erdal, blindly swinging his sword at him. Erdal dodged, stepping sideways, and braced himself for another parry. He saw the gleam of madness in the king’s eyes.

“Gezek tells me the woman is a real weakling,” Zutaar smirked. “And you dare defy me for her?” He snarled as he lunged toward Erdal again.

Erdal parried the attack by holding his Light-Shard vertically in front of him. The king carried his sword clumsily, as he had not taken it up in years. But he was stronger and taller than Erdal. He came at him again as Erdal dodged, but with his other hand, Zutaar pounded him with a small club in the ribs, and then swung it again, hitting him in the face.

Erdal staggered and fell backward. His head reeled, and there was a ringing in his ears, as hot, searing pain shot up his jaw and in the side of his chest. His vision blurred for a few seconds as he tasted the warm, metallic blood in his mouth. A wave of nausea hit him.

Get up! Get up now!
You can’t let him win!
The voice in his head yelled as he saw the king advance toward him. The image of his mother and father lying in a pool of dark blue blood flashed across his mind as he struggled to get up. He grabbed his Light-Shard as it lay on the floor beside him and got to his feet. The king clumsily swung his sword again, and this time, as Erdal parried, the blades clashed, metal clanking against metal, as he felt the impact reverberate through his arm. Erdal had the kind of strength and agility that the other lacked. His years of experience in the arena had taught him how to survive. He stepped forward and swung his Light-Shard in a move that slashed the left arm of the king, leaving a large open gash in its wake. Dark blood gushed forth and the club fell from his grasp as he cried in pain and lunged forward, wildly swinging his sword at him. Erdal moved sideways, dodging the clumsy attack.

“This is for hurting Natalie,” he said, in a cold voice, and quick as lightning he slashed his other arm, cutting it off. More blood, dark as tar, spilled, and he kept advancing as Zutaar retreated, screaming, until he fell backward on the steps leading to the throne. Erdal was on him immediately, pointing his Katana at his heart.  

“And this is for father and mother,” he said, tears glistening in his eyes, as he raised his Light-Shard and plunged the thin blade  into Zutaar’s chest, severing his dark heart. The pseudo-king convulsed and breathed his last as the light went out of his cold, gray eyes. His body lay still in the ever increasing pool of dark blood.

***

Erdal found her unconscious on the dark floor. She was pale and her skin seemed gray in the dim light. Her breathing was ragged and her pulse was faint, but she was alive. He carried her in his arms to the sickbay, tears rolling down his cheeks.

Dr. Barca took her in. Kissing her forehead, Erdal left her in his care. An hour later he reported she was stable and the baby was fine. She needed breathing pills and was dehydrated. He had given her a sedative to put her at ease. She was stronger than she seemed, the doctor reassured.

Erdal heaved a sigh of relief as he gazed at the now confused and scared faces of the council members. Half an hour earlier, when he got back to the meeting room, there was chaos among the council heads. Ornek had already briefed them about the situation and showed them the documents that proved Erdal was the true heir to the throne.

They wanted some time to think it over, but as Ornek said, there was no doubt about it. They had no choice but to agree.