Eyepatch had maintained his position above Rafael. The fellow, no matter how much sin he had, blood still flowed within him so he was either a sentry or a pawn or at most, a low-level sentinel – Eyepatch added the last classification due to Rafael's battle tactics.
However, because of this, he knew it was just a matter of time till Rafael's sin would be expended and he was going to be there when it did.
However, Rafael suddenly blinked out of sight and the sultan was suddenly floating towards the ground.
Eyepatch jerked up, spinning as he searched the ground for any trace of him. There was nothing. He looked about frantically; the sultan lay on the grass now. Still nothing. He yelled in frustration. Turning, he flew back on the trail, trying to find traces of Rafael.
When he returned, the sultan was gone.
******************************
Medea and Brut had a relatively unadventurous encounter compared to Rafael's, although they were restricted from accessing some places, they returned to Gomorrah uneventfully.
Fairchild was out in the courtyard, with some sinners. He supervised them as they loaded crates onto a carriage. Another recent purchase by the family.
Medea disembarked and joined him at the steps.
He glanced at her, "Rafael's not with you?"
"No. We separated after the union meeting. I thought he'd have already returned though." She looked around.
"No. He'd be here if he had. Don't worry though, I'm sure Rafael can take care of himself."
"Of course." She replied, nodding. It was as though she was reassuring herself more than agreeing with him.
Someone yawned and they glanced behind them, Mycroft was walking out of the log house, rubbing his eyes.
"Look who finally decided to get up," Medea remarked with a roll of her eyes and walked past him.
"What? You should've finished up your jugs of ale last night." He walked on, shuffling his feet, to where Fairchild stood and yawned, slipping his thumbs in his unbuckled belt. "What's with her?"
Fairchild sighed, "Rafael hasn't returned from Sodom," he glanced at Mycroft, "She's just worried."
"That's unlike him." He remarked, staring off into the distance. "Well, I better get around to doing something. I can't stand another speech right now." He sighed, stretching his arms as he walked back in.
******************************
Nightfall was approaching and Rafael was yet to return. Medea was standing at the foot of the steps.
Mycroft was leaning against the beam in the doorway.
Fairchild joined him there, he'd asked the sinners to offload the carriage a while ago. Mycroft glanced at him,
"She's been there for a while."
Fairchild sighed and walked to Medea. He covered her bare shoulders with his shawl and she smiled appreciatively, rubbing her arms.
She didn't seem to mind that she had just her nightdress on – over her underwear,
"He'll be back, my child." He assured and she turned, hugging him and letting it all out. Mycroft sighed and went back in, his lips bent in a slight frown.
"You better show up alive and well." He muttered.
There was the sound of hooves striking the Earth in quick succession and Brut appeared, pulling the reins and halting the horse as he neared.
"I have news." He announced breathlessly and he wasn't alone...
*****************************
Myra felt like this moment had gone on for several eternities, when her grandmother sighed, her shoulders drooping a bit lower, she turned and traced her way to her room.
Myra's hand flew to her chest and she sighed so deeply, she thought she'd been holding her breath.
Now, how was she supposed to lift this wholesome man and where would she have to take him to?
She looked at him again, the contraption looked a bit scary and torturous.
Luckily for her, he stirred then. She offered him a hand, he managed to take it. Conversely, when she pulled, she was the one who moved, falling on him.
Rafael coughed, spouting water. She covered his mouth reflexively, till she was sure her grandmother didn't stir.
"Sorry." She mouthed as she removed her hand. He nodded off and she tried to move off, he winced sharply, his arms entrapping her.
She gasped, her eyes widened and her eyebrows reached their upper limits. However, she desisted from struggling, not knowing where he was hurt. He was drifting off once more.
She felt strangely warm at their points of contact. Despite the difference in their body temperatures. She stayed in that position, sleep coming to her in winks.
She was completely aware of each movement or change on his part, adjusting slightly at times when he seemed to be in distress. She watched those strong features soften and that "class" disappear and not for once did his "sinner status" come to mind.
Rafael stirred to a small gasp and opened his eyes, those brown eyes gazed back at his steel-gray ones for a few moments, suddenly they blinked twice in quick succession and she bolted off him, his arms swinging apart.
He drew in air sharply, feeling the effects of her forceful flexing of his shoulder muscles.
"Sorry." She muttered, huddled in one corner.
Rafael, on the other hand, was still at a complete loss over his surroundings and he almost lost it.
She managed to hold him down though, whispering to him as she traced his jawline, just like her mother used to do hers. Surprisingly, it worked on him and he leaned against her palm, drifting off once more…
*******************************
The man sitting behind Brut had both legs on one side of the horse and his hand had gripped Brut's waist all through the ride. He was ranting as he disembarked and it was obvious his favorite color was blue.
"Your master will have your head after I tell him about this!" He yelled at an unconcerned Brut. "Yes," he continued, walking to Medea. "You must be his lady. I'm sure your lord would've sent a carriage if he knew I was coming.
Where the blade came from, no one could tell but suddenly, the tip of a blade was inches away from the trader's neck. He raised his chin reflectively and angled his head away.
"My man said you have news on Lord Forsythe, spit it out." She enunciated the last part, the blade inching closer.
However, the trader scoffed, pushing the blade away. "What a welcome and after what I did for Forsythe."
"This isn't the time for theatrics," Fairchild chided the man, barely restraining Medea.
"I couldn't agree more." He replied, eyeing Medea's blade. Medea struggled out of Fairchild's grasp but Mycroft was suddenly there, pulling her back.
"Keep it together Medea. If he has information on Rafael, then we have to find out what it is. However, if he doesn't…" He trailed off, his gaze switching to the man's face.
"Ooh, I'm so scared." The trader whispered, his hand flying to his chest. Immediately after that, he looked back to Fairchild. "I guess, age does translate into wisdom." He remarked quite loudly. "Lord Forsythe and I had a deal. I'm just here to collect my debt."
"That doesn't clear anything up." Fairchild reasoned and Medea wrestled herself free. The trader snapped his fingers and trapped her in throne construct, adding a crown to her head.
"Let me out of this!" She pressed her lips together; her face was flushed and she was breathing deeply.
"Course not. And not just because the throne's a work of art befitting your status as the lady of this family, I'd prefer distance between that blade and myself. Now, let me tell you all a little story. He said and fell back, landing in a rocking chair of his construct.
"I was there in my stall, arranging my beautiful fabrics when this man in a sultan that lacked a Pellegrini but made up for it with its fabric and tailoring walked in.
"I was going to ask for his tailor but then he realizes that he's being followed because he's unregistered and unmarked.
"So right there and then amid impending doom, he asked me to make a deal with him. He would make me the wealthiest trader in all of Sodom if I helped him escape.
"He told me about you all and I realized that he was in fact, the famed Lord Forsythe who'd dealt fearlessly with the council. So, I took his word for it and distracted them. They saw him escape though and went after him. That was the last I saw him.
"I found my way here and right from the, in my opinion, new and barely trained guards till here, everyone has been so pensive. However, I'll refrain from attaching myself to all this. Send for Lord Forsythe and tell him DaVinci is here."
**************************
"Sire, this is all I could find," Ichabod said, offering TSOI the missing sultan.
TSOI angled his head, looked from the sultan to Ichabod and he suddenly found himself pinned to the wall by an invisible force. Even breathing was getting harder as the force seemed to increase. The sultan was suspending. TSOI looked at it.
"What shall I make of your incompetence?" He asked.
Ichabod choked on his words, he felt his body giving away.
Suddenly the force drew him backward, suspending him before TSOI and dissipating in a great gust of wind that left him flustered but passed the throne without fazing the one on it.
"I a-apol…ogiz-ze. I w-was o-on…ly tr-trying t-to m-main…t-tain a c-co…ver, he swallowed painfully, "milord."
"And the body?"
"N-neither I nor Ch-chadnezzar of the Bull order in Sodom could find it."
"So, he vanished into thin air?"
"I will keep watch over G-gomorrah, my lord."
"You have no choice there. Present the sultan to the family and watch their reaction. Summon Chadnezzar." He added, and Ichabod felt the force toss him, sultan on his face, out the window.
*******************************
"So, you're telling me that he's not back yet? I saw Chadnezzar a while back. That was when I decided to come. I thought he'd escaped. This is bad." DaVinci said, pacing.
He suddenly gasped, coming to a stop when a raven perched on the log house. They followed his gaze to it and Mycroft's shoos couldn't chase it away.
Instead, it descended, Ichabod, taking his true form as it landed. DaVinci, as well as, Brut fell to one knee, the former letting go of Medea.
Only Rafael's company stood, though, for different reasons.
He held out one arm and the sultan appeared, hanging on his forearm. Medea gasped and rushed him, grabbing it and hugging it to herself. She broke down then, falling to her knees.
Mycroft and Fairchild looked on, broken. Even Brut and DaVinci looked thoroughly affected. Ichabod had seen enough. He turned and was gone.
*****************************
Rafael stirred again, this time he was wide awake. "Where am I?" He croaked, attempting to sit up and wincing.
She was there at once, helping him up with a cup of water in hand, her accumulated experience on service aiding her.
He sat up and gulped down two jugs, wincing and coughing but continuing till he achieved satisfaction.
"Why are you helping me?" He asked.
She looked around and chuckled, "That is a question to which I have no answer." His reaction shocked her.
He suddenly grabbed his temples, groaning in pain. She tried to calm him, tracing his jawline. It worked once more, and he leaned against that hand.
"What happened to you?" She asked softly, trying to keep as much emotion out of her voice. A feat that wasn't exactly possible.
"What do you mean? Did something happen to me? I don't know? He looked at himself. "Does it have anything to do with these tubes on my body?"
She gasped, "You don't know what they are?"
"No, should I?"
She was getting apprehensive, "What do you know?"
"My name, Rafael."
She was taken aback, "What else?" She asked.
"Nothing."