Endeavors Run: Chapter Two

Endeavor's Run has had a major re-write. Two more narratives have been added, and this chapter is the beginning of both.

Chapter Two

Sins of the Father

AA 972�"Aqueous

 

Trying hard to be brave, but not managing very well, the two red haired little girls sat quietly in the waiting room watching their father pace back and forth. Sven Lawson was absently mindedly wringing his hands, and gripping the sides of his head, so that his blond hair stuck out all askew. His unshaven face wore an anguished look, and he was barely able to keep tears from making an appearance.

          He was also failing at the brave thing.

          Two sets of eight-year-old eyes kept watching him for some sign of strength, some sign of hope, and try as he might�"he was just unable to find it inside him to give them. Finally one of the twins stood up, and grabbed her father’s hand. He stopped his pacing, as she held firm. “Daddy, please come sit down. You’re making yourself sad, and it hurts to see you sad. Look, it’s making sissy cry.” She glanced over at her twin sister who had silent tears streaming down her face.

          Her own tears would come later.

          “I know, Britt. You’re right, sweety,” he managed to get out, and then tried a weak smile, “I’ll sit, but only if you and Lorraine hold my hands�"hold them tight.”

         “We will daddy,” the steadiness in her voice belied the tears she too was fighting.

          A young nurse came into the waiting room, took a deep breath to muster her own courage, and stood watching the family’s pain for a moment before tapping lightly on the door to get their attention. They quickly looked up hopefully expectant, but the expression on the nurse’s face instantly told them all they needed to know�"hope was futile. “Councilor Lawson, Doctor Burt will be here in a minute. He needs to talk to you�"alone would be best.”

          Britt jumped up defiantly with her green eyes were ablaze in indignation. “Whatever he has to say he can say to all of us! She’s my�"” then glanced down at her sister, “our mommy too you know.” She then plopped back down in her seat, crossed her little arms in front of her, and with a trembling pouting lip, glared at the nurse.

          “I know sweetheart. I’m so sorry,” said the nurse regretfully, “here’s the doctor now.” She backed out of the waiting room, and quickly left the doctor to talk to the family.

          Doctor Burt was a tall prematurely graying man with a stern look, and cold eyes. Especially when it concerned Sven Lawson. “We did all we could Councilor, but the pathogens were simply too strong, and she was so weak from all the exposure that she spent fighting this same epidemic.” He then twisted the knife where it would hurt worst. “You should have stopped her from this�"”

          “You’re saying sh-she died, Doctor?” Asked the grieving husband and father, ignoring the dig.

          “I thought I made that clear Lawson. Yes, she died, about ten minutes ago.”

          Lorraine broke out in heavy sobs, but Britt jumped back to her feet and wagged her finger at the doctor. “You could have saved her! My mommy was the best doctor at this hospital�"better than you ever were,” she yelled at the doctor,” and she saved many people from this same sickness, and they weren’t anymore sick than mommy was!”

          “Britt, please.” Begged her dad.

          But she was having none of it, and turned back to her father. “Daddy, you know he let her die, you know his bad feelings about us.”

          The doctors’ eyes flared with anger. “I don’t have to stand here and take this from a little brat!” Burt spat out, “You need to take your kids home Lawson, then come back here and deal with the body,” he said with cold anger. “We can’t have contaminated corpses laying around this hospital.” He then twisted the knife just a little bit more. “If you don’t deal with her body, then I will.” He practically spat out these last words, turned, and left the now motherless family just standing there.

          “He could have saved mommy, but he hates us, so he let her die.”

          “You don’t know that Britt, come on let me take you girls home.”

          “Yes I do, and when I’m a doctor, I’ll never let people die, just like mommy never let people die,” she looked up her dad as her eyes began to fill, and made a promise, “I swear I’ll be the best doctor ever.” She jumped off the chair, and ran out the hospital as the tears finally made their appearance.

          Lorraine stood up, silently took her dad’s hand, and held it to her cheek as they slowly followed her sister out of this place of death.

 

***

 

The officer of the watch approached the throne, bowing in homage to his Tsar. He waited until given permission to rise.

          “Well, out with Lieutenant. You didn’t come in here just to waste my time did you?” grumbled the impatient Tsar Yakov Yanbeyev, “Give me whatever the news is, and then get the hell out.”

          Da, Excellency,” the Lieutenant said wanting nothing more than to do just that. “A report has come in from Cambria Sire�"“

          “What! Why the f**k do you think I care?” Yelled the Tsar, “Seriously? You disturbed me to relay news from that shithole?” The Tsar was working up to a furious lather.

          “Sire, the report says that Doctor Susan Lawson has died,” the Tsar’s tirade instantly ceased as a sneer of satisfaction found its way to his face. “She died about two weeks ago, from that flu epidemic that swept through Camb�"the region.”

          “So, the b***h is now a stinking corpse huh?” His sneer turned into a genuine smile, as his mood quickly improved. “Now that little b*****d won’t have any reason to call out for his mommy anymore.”

          The Lieutenant knew that his monarch’s moods could shift quickly, and violently, so he said nothing, but simply bowed his head in a semblance of respect, and backed out of the door.

          “Sergei! Get your dumbass in here this instant!” The news about his b*****d’s mother had put him into one of his moods, and whenever his moods turned black, then there was a price to pay.

          “Da, my Tsar.” This can’t be good, thought the Tsar’s steward.

          “Where’s that little b*****d, Sergei?” Came the demand that the steward always dreaded. He knew exactly who the Tsar was asking about.

          “He’s with his governess sire, your sister.” Came the reluctant, but honest answer.

          One simply didn’t lie to the Tsar.

          “For the life of me I don’t why she waste’s her time with him.” Snarled the boy’s father, “Bring him here, and don’t dally this time. I mean it.” He threatened.

          “Da, my Tsar.” Please God, not again.

          Five minutes later a scrawny blond haired eight-year-old boy was ushered into the throne room by his aunt. He stood trembling, and looking at the floor fearing what was coming next. His arms and throat showed signs of recent bruising. One of his green eyes was still swollen, and had a purplish blue ring below it. He stood next to his aunt trying to disappear behind her skirts.

          Hiding never did him any good.

          “Come here boy.” His father said evenly. It always started like this.

          The little boy looked up beseechingly at his aunt, and tried to take her hand as protection.

          This never worked either.

          “It’s alright Bayne,” his aunt tried to reassure him, “I’m here.”

          “Who the hell do you think you’re talking to Oxana?” Growled the now angry Tsar. “Now shut the f**k up, and send him over here, or I’ll have you removed. Again.”

           Her reaction was swift. “He’s just a little boy Yakov,” she pled.

           This too, never did any good.

           “Sergei!” The steward instantly appeared, “Remove this b***h from my sight.”

           “Da, my Tsar.” Please my lady, come quietly this time.

           Once they were alone the fathers fingers were drumming on his throne like a dragon launch. “I have some news you need to hear, and I don’t want to yell across the room, so get your a*s over here now!”

          The boy slowly shuffled over to his father’s throne, never looking up meeting those angry eyes. He stopped, and waited for the inevitable.

          The Tsar looked distastefully down at the boy as he tactlessly told him the news. “That b***h who whelped you is dead, so you will now stop crying for her every time your little feelings get hurt. Do you hear me?” His voice was beginning to rise.

          M-mommy’s dead? Nooo�"” Came the small voice.

          “What, are you hard of hearing, as well as stupid?” The volume was increasing by the second.

          “Mommy�"I want my mo�"”

          The sound of the backhanded slap hitting the boy’s cheek could be heard outside the throne room door, as the boy flew two meters before hitting the hard crystal floor. “I told you to stop calling for her! She’s was as worthless, as you are, you little b*****d!”

          The Tsar stood up from the throne and started advancing on the boy now bleeding from his cheek where the Tsar’s ring had left a ragged gash. The door suddenly burst open, as Oxana came flying into the room. She threw herself in between the almost unconscious boy and his tormentor.

          “No more, Yakov! Please, no more.” Begged the aunt.

          Several guards, including the Tsar’s nephew, also came rushing into the throne room. As soon as the Tsar saw his nephew, Oxana’s son, his royal ire ratcheted up a notch. “Lieutenant Moroz, if you value your mother’s life, then remove her, and do it quick.”

          The young dragon rider officer gathered up his mother, while saying nothing, but looking daggers at his uncle, and pulled her from the room.

          A frantic little seven-year-old girl came running into the room, saw the situation, and threw herself on top of the boy to protect him. Her long black hair spread out like a protective blanket over the boy’s bleeding head.

          This only infuriated the Tsar even more.

          “Sergei! Take Anya away, and make sure she’s locked in her room.

          “Da, my Tsar.” Don’t worry Anya, you I will protect, even if it means my life

          “Daddy, please don’t hurt him any more,” she begged her father, “he’s my only brother!” The steward quickly, but gently lifted the little girl from her half-brother. Blood had stained her blue dress where she had held Bayne’s head close to her own.

          The Tsar then grabbed the little boy by his arm, yanked him off the floor, and began dragging him out the throne room. Tsar Yakov was a big man, and his huge hand enveloped the thin arm of the boy in a vice like grip. As he dragged the helpless child he began to strip the boys tunic off until he wore nothing but a thin garment around his buttocks. “B******s don’t deserve to be dressed in such finery. Especially royal finery!” He dragged the boy along for several minutes until they reached the massive main gates leading to the landing terrace. He jerked the boy through an access gate, and threw him outside the door�"outside the protection of the caverns.

          And into a blizzard.

          It was a freezing day with driving snow blowing down from the mountain towering above. The monarch of mankind’s northern colony, and the absolute commander of a ten thousand strong army of dragon riders, then threw his only son onto the frozen terrace deck, and told him. “Maybe this will teach you to keep your f*****g mouth shut about your w***e of a mother. The next time you mention her I’ll throw off the terrace myself.” He turned and slammed the access door shut leaving the crying, bleeding, freezing little boy grieving for his mother in silence.

          In a few minutes he would be frozen to death.

          Out of the driving snow an ear splitting roar sounded across the terrace, but the boy didn’t even have the strength to look up. A second roar sounded immediately followed by heat blasting over the top of the freezing child and instantly warming him. Hypothermia had already begun to set in, and the boy was shaking uncontrollably, but the fires warmth brought life back to his bruised naked flesh. Suddenly a huge warm wing draped over the boy protecting him from the killing elements.

          The access door instantly flew open as dozens of crossbow-armed soldiers came rushing out onto the terrace followed by their furious Tsar. As soon as he saw his son’s savior he flew into an uncontrollable rage. “Rodina, you have no right to be here!”

          “And what right do you have to toturet this innocent child?” Shot back the golden dragon.

          “He’s my son, but no heir, and given that technicality, he life is completely at my suffrage.” The Tsar spit out these words of hate at the giant dragon.

          “You will reap the torment you sow, as will all those around you. Are you that blind and ignorant?”

          “I’ve had all the meddling from you I’m going to take,” threatened the Tsar, “leave now while you still can, and never return, or I swear that I will expend both my dragon wings to destroy you. Am I clear?”

         While the Tsar was distracted facing off with the giant golden dragon, the boy’s aunt raced out onto the terrace, quickly gathering up the boy in a blanket, and spirited him back inside to the cavernous city of Drakon Rus.

           “It would indeed take both your wings Yakov, but have no fear, I’ll not return until after your death, and then, only to piss on your sorry grave, and join in the celebration!” With that the almost centuries-old dragon leapt into the air, and disappeared into the snowstorm.

          She would make good on her promise.