Due South - part 11
by KatiKat
Treize rolled to the side as the sword swung above him and hit the thick carpet
just inches away from his shoulder. He snatched his sword that he left propped
against the night table and swung it to rid the blade of its sheath. Heedless
of his nude state, he turned around to face his attacker. The black clad figure
raised its sword and lunged for him. He sidestepped and brought his blade
upwards. The swords clashed together with a loud metallic sound. Zechs started
to cry in his crib.
The Count didnīt see much in the darkness of the room, the crescent moon the
only source of light. He decided to rely on his instincts to guide him. He pushed
the attacker away from himself, then slashed at his legs. The intruder
retreated a step, then brought the sword down on the General from above and to
the side. Treize dropped low and side-stepped, the attackerīs sword swishing
through the empty air.
Above their harsh panting and the cries of his child, Treize could hear
Milliardo scramble to his feet. He knew that Mil was wise enough not to
interfere in their fight. The only reasonable thing to do in the blond manīs
blind state was to go for help. Treize was confident that he could take down
the attacker, but even during the brief encounter, he recognized the intruder
was no amateur. And it was always difficult to fight when you had someone to
protect.
Clash together, side-step, swing the blade, crouch low to duck under the strike
and turn. The room was large enough for a duel, they were getting away from the
childīs crib by the window, though dangerously close to his mate who was
desperately trying to find his way to the door just by feeling. Suddenly, the
attacker caught sight of Milliardo reaching the door finally, and he
jerked his hand, a dagger slipping into his palm, glittering dangerously in the
moonlight.
"Milliardo!" Treize cried out and swung his sword at the intruder as
the man snapped around, the blade leaving his hand and flying towards the blond
man.
*-*-*-*-*-*
Milliardo tried to scramble to his feet, the bed covers twisted around him.
From the other side of the room he could hear Treize fighting with the
intruder. His hands were twitching with the need to help his mate, though he
was reasonable enough to know that he would just hinder him. Managing to get to
his knees, he reached out and around to get the feeling of where he was. After
falling off the bed, he was disoriented. Finally finding the night table, he
pulled himself to his feet.
Zechs was crying in his crib, the noises of a sword fight had obviously woken
him up. Although Mil wanted to gather him in his arms and calm the fearful
cries, he used his hands to find the door. But the moment he touched the door
knob, Treize called out his name in fright. Instinctively, Milliardo dropped
and rolled to the side. There was a dull thud and the quiet sound of metallic
vibration. He didnīt need to see to figure out there was a knife embedded in
the door where he had been standing just a moment ago.
Grinding his teeth in determination, Milliardo got to his feet and reached for
the door again. The fight moved dangerously close to him. He closed his hand
around the door knob and turned it, but in that moment he could feel the air
moving, could hear Treizeīs cry again. He dropped, the attackerīs blade passing
just above his head. Crouching on the floor, Milliardo instinctively
straightened his right leg and spun around, catching the intruder by the ankles
and bringing him out of balance enough to give his mate the chance to finish
the man.
The swords clashed together, one of the blades flying through the room and hitting
the wall by the bed. There was the sound of flesh hitting flesh and the
intruder collided with the door by Milliardoīs side with a grunt and slid to
the ground. And then there was Treize, helping Mil off the ground and away from
the attacker.
"Are you okay?" Mil asked, running his hands blindly up and down
Treizeīs naked arms.
"Yes, and you?" Treize inquired. When Milliardo nodded, he pushed him
behind himself and pointed his sword at the attacker. "Who sent you?"
he thundered, his voice full of menace.
Milliardo stood by the side of his lover, waiting for the man to answer.
Suddenly, Treize cursed loudly and moved towards the attacker, who started to
choke and thrash on the ground. A moment later everything was silent.
"Treize?" Mil asked uncertainly, furrowing his brows.
The Count sighed deeply and got to his feet. "He is dead."
"Dead?"
"He swallowed some poison. Must have had it in his mouth. This man was a
professional."
"So, you think that someone sent an assassin to kill us?" Milliardo
asked. He didnīt like the only possible conclusion.
"Yes." Treize cursed again. "And now we wonīt find out who it
was!"
*-*-*-*-*-*
When Duo woke up, he was lying on his side, face resting on Heeroīs bare chest.
As the wooziness of his mind cleared and he realized where he was and with
whom, a content, happy smile spread across his face. He lifted his hand and
laid it on Heeroīs stomach, then started to caress the hard plains lovingly. If
he hadnīt thought it childish, he would have giggled with happiness.
Last night was... mind blowing. There were no other words to describe it.
Although inexperienced, Heero was the gentlest, the most attentive lover anyone
could wish for. The smile on his face widened and he snuggled closer, laying
one leg over his mateīs thighs. He felt so loved and cared for and safe...
He lifted his head carefully, to peer at his lover's face and blinked in
surprise as he caught Heero watching him with an expression of glowing
happiness on his face.
"Hey, lover," Duo whispered, propping his head on his hand.
"Hey," Heero answered, one hand playing with Duoīs hair. At one point
during the night, his braided hair came undone and now it covered them like a
second blanket. Heero was obviously fascinated by the thick mane.
Duo bent his head to kiss the hot skin on Heeroīs chest, his eyes never leaving
the beloved face. "How are you feeling?"
Heero smiled one of his rare, open smiles. "It was... wow," he said,
unable to find the right words.
The lifebearer chuckled.
But then the Enforcer grew serious and maybe even a little worried. "And
you...? I mean, I was... I..."
Duo lifted his free hand and laid one finger on his mateīs lips. "Shh...
It was the best night ever," he assured Heero with a hushed voice.
"And no, itīs not the... whatever they put in the goblets speaking for
me." He grinned. "But Treize and Mil will pay for not telling us this
teeny weeny little detail."
Heero smiled with relief, then opened his mouth unexpectedly and let Duoīs
fingers slip in. It surprised the long-haired young man, but as his lover
started to suck on his digits gently, Duoīs cheeks flushed and his eyes grew
slightly glazed.
"Heero... itīs morning and... donīt you think that the priest will want
his temple... back...?" he sighed, feeling the flames of desire in his
stomach grow hotter by the second.
Now it was time for Heero to grin and bite gently on Duoīs fingers. Duo moaned
and closed his eyes, his body still very sensitive to his loverīs touch. But
before they could do more, there was a commontion in the main space of the
temple and loud, quick footsteps headed in the direction of the bonding room. A
second later, the curtain in the entryway was pulled aside and when the lovers
turned towards it, they found Trowa standing in the doorway, an agitated look
on his face.
Heero and Duo immediately sat up on the thick platform in the middle of the
room. "Whatīs wrong?" asked the Enforcer in a serious voice.
"Treize and Milliardo were attacked last night."
*-*-*-*-*-*-*
"I should have been here," Rufus muttered, crossing his arms over his
chest. He was obviously very unhappy about the fact that he didnīt manage to
protect his General again.
Rufus, Trowa and Heero were standing by the couch in the sitting room, watching
as the chief magistrateīs men - the city guards - laid the assassin on the
stretcher and carried him out of the Countīs room. The captain of the guards
headed towards the three of them, carrying a cloth pouch in his right hand.
"Thatīs all that we found on him, sir," he handed it over to Rufus.
"The weapons are laid on the table in the Generalīs room."
Rufus nodded and took it. "Where are you taking the man, Captain?"
"To the city morgue, sir. The healers will take a look at him. Maybe they
will find something that could help us further." The captain shook his
head. "The man didnīt have many things on him and nothing that could help
us identify him. He was a true professional."
Rufus nodded again, but seeing the captain hesitate for a moment, he raised his
eyebrows, urging the man to continue.
The captain furrowed his eyebrows thoughtfully. "Although... as you will
see, we found a ring in his clothes... he had it sewn into the hem of his
shirt. If one of my men didnīt step on it, we would have never found it. Maybe
itīll help you further."
Rufus frowned too, nodded and dismissed the captain.
"The Captain is right," Treize said as he stepped to his friends.
"He really was a professional. Had he faced someone with lesser experience
in sword fighting, he would have won." He wasnīt flaunting, but stating
facts.
Rufus lowered his eyes. "Sir, I want to apologize..."
The Count lifted his eyebrows. "For what if I may ask? You werenīt even
here," he reminded the captain of his personal guard.
"And thatīs exactly the point. I wasnīt here," Rufus agreed, his
voice bitter. "If I was..."
"But you werenīt. I ordered you to stay with Duo and Heero to keep them
safe. From my own experience, I know that during the night of bonding one can
get easily... distracted," he finished, smiling and winking at the
blushing Heero. But then he turned serious again. "Iīm more worried about
how they found us. I mean, it was sheer bad luck that we got caught in
the storm and ended up here. So it would mean that it must be someone from this
town who wanted us killed... But I doubt it. We didnīt meet anybody and werenīt
here long enough to make enemies."
Trowa pondered the problem for a moment. "Well, if we assume that someone
planned your murder in the first place, he could have left his men in various
towns along the coast."
Treize frowned. "So, you mean that from now on I need to watch out in
every place we cast anchor?" His voice was full of anger.
The healer cocked his head to the side, then shook his head. "I donīt
think so. I mean - the one who hired the man must have been in Peacemillion
together with the King since he knew that you would follow the court to the
City. And thus he knew you would take the Peacemillion II and that you would
hurry to catch up with the Emperor. From this place he only needed to consider
the speed of the ship and the location of the ports along the coast to figure
out where the ship would need to cast anchor."
"That means I know the man who did it. He must be a member of the
Emperorīs court, probably from his inner circle..." The expression on the
Countīs face grew dark and his voice was dripping with ice. "A traitor...
I swear I will kill him with my bare hands!" The three men shuddered at
the dark menace in Treize's voice.
For a moment silence settled on the group, but then Rufus spoke, lifing the
pouch in his hand. "The Captainīs men found these things on the assassin."
"Show me," Treize ordered and together they stepped at a table.
Rufus pulled the strings of the pouch open and shook the contents on the table.
Only three things fell out on the white tablecloth: a picklock, a very thin
wire with small handles at its ends and a simple gold ring. Heero immediately
reached for the silver wire, unlooping it.
"Thatīs a garotte," he said, frowning. "A rather efficient
weapon when you have to kill one person quietly. The city guard probably didnīt
recognize it as a weapon. You donīt see such things every day."
Rufus and Treize nodded in agreement. The lockpick was of no interest to them
since it was easy to find such things in every smithy in the Empire. But the
ring...
Treize took it in his hand and looked at it closely. It was a really simple
gold band, adorned only with small symbols that looked like runes from the old
time. They would need to find somebody who could translate the inscription for
them. Maybe this way they would be able to find out to whom it belonged.
Rufus looked at the ring and frowned. "Hm... maybe a payment for the
job?"
The Count shook his head. "No, that would be too little. Maybe a sign? To
show somebody upon return to the City?" He looked at his companions. Rufus
was nodding slowly and Heero looked troubled but it was the expression on
Trowaīs face that caught his attention. The healerīs eyes were wide open and
fixed on the gold band. He was pale, as if he had seen a ghost.
*-*-*-*-*-*
"You look remarkably composed for someone whom an assassin tried to kill
last night," Duo remarked, feeding the baby with a bottle, and looked at
Milliardo who was sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling a high leather shoe
on. Shinigami was lying on the floor by to door, pretending to be asleep but
taking everything in nonetheless.
Mil shrugged. "It wasnīt the first time someone wanted to kill me."
His voice sounded casual. "I am - was - a soldier after all."
Duo lifted his eyebrows. "But there is a world of difference between a
battle and an assassination attempt, donīt you think?"
"There is only one thing that troubles me," Mil said, frowning.
"That I wasnīt able to help Treize. With my eyes..." He sighed and
shook his head.
"Wasnīt able? I heard that it was you who knocked the guy on his butt.
Give yourself some credit." When Milliardo just shrugged, Duo continued.
"And what about your eyes? Are there any better?"
The blond man hesitated for a moment, then nodded slightly. "I can see
shapes now, not only light and darkness."
Duo grinned, delighted by this good news. "Thatīs fantastic! What did
Treize say about it? I bet he was out of himself, right?"
Milliardo sighed. "I havenīt told him yet," he admitted quietly.
The braided young man frowned. "Why not?"
Mil shrugged once again. "I donīt know... Iīm probably just superstitious
but... I would like to wait til I see more clearly so that I could give him the
really good news, you know? I fear that if I tell him now, I will realize that
it was just a dream and Iīm still blind, you know?" he whispered.
Duo smiled slightly. "Yeah, I know. For me, it was the same with my
bonding. I mean, so many things happened already..."
Milliardo smiled, the frown disappearing from his brows. "And how was your
bonding night?" There was mischief in his voice.
The braided young man snickered. "Oh, you will pay for not telling me
about the aphrodisiac, you know. I felt like I was set free. I wasnīt thinking
clearly and the only thing I had on my mind was..." He blushed. "Well,
you know..."
Milliardoīs smile grew into grin. "Oh, yeah?" He wiggled his
eyebrows. "Tell me all about it!"
*-*-*-*-*-*-*
"Will you tell me whatīs wrong, Trowa?" Treize asked, his voice low.
After Heero had gone to gather his mate and Rufus had disappeared to prepare
the coach that would take them back to the ship, the Count and the healer
remained alone in the sitting room. Trowa was still standing by the table,
holding the gold band in his hand now, staring at it almost unblinking. Treize
moved to the door leading outside the rooms and into the corridor and closed
them tightly, certain that whatever Trowa would tell him was not intended to be
heard by strangers' ears. The Count leaned on the door and crossed his arms
over his chest.
Trowa turned the ring once, twice in his hand, the winter sunlight reflecting
on the etched runes. He frowned, then a grim expression settled on his face.
Obviously he made a decision of some sort, because he turned partially to
Treize, still staring at the gold band though.
"This ring belongs to Dekim Barton," he said in a quiet voice.
Treize blinked, his eyes widening slightly. "How do you know?"
The healer just shook his head and continued. "The runes say īWith you for
life, in death foreverī. Dekimīs brother gave it to his mate... Dekim never
knew what the words meant, such a pathethic old fool... To him, it was just
another ring he inherited after his brother and his mate died..."
Narrowing his eyes, the Count pondered what the healer just said. Dekim
Barton... Would the old fool really dare to hire an assassin to kill him? Of
course he would... he was dumb enough not to consider all the consequences. How
the Emperor could allow this man to blind him enough to invite him into the
inner circle of advisors was still a mystery to Treize.
Trowa lifted his head and mistaking Treize's intense look for suspicion, he
hurriedly continued. "I donīt know why he would want to kill you and Mil,
but itīs him. I swear, this ring was in his property the last time I-" He
cut himself off abruptly, clenching his lips together and dropping his eyes
back to the jewelry.
"There is a reason for such a daring move from him," Treize said.
"Itīs the same reason why we are hurrying so fast to catch up with the
Emperorīs fleet." The Count cocked his head to the side and regarded Trowa
as if checking if he could trust him. Coming to the conclusion that obviously
he could, Treize continued. "This is a state secret, Trowa, you may not
discuss anything of it with anybody else, do you understand?"
Trowa looked up again, blinking in surprise, but also nodding in understanding.
"The rebels in the south, the desert clans, are ready to sign a treaty.
They want to stop the civil war that has been decimating their warriors for
years now. But their leader, Irien Raberba, insists that he will negotiate only
with me. For some reason, he thinks Iīm a honorable man." A small ironic
smirk appeared on Treizeīs lips, but disappeared immediately again. "I met
him a year ago. He saved Milīs life back then and we reached an
understanding... and now he refuses to talk to anybody but me."
"So, if you die, there will be no treaty and the war will continue,"
Trowa concluded.
The Count nodded. "Yes. And thatīs exactly what Dekim Barton wants,"
he explained, not able to hide the disgust he felt toward the old snob.
"After he inherited all of his brotherīs money, he used the war to magnify
his fortune - he became the biggest weapons dealer in the whole land. The last
thing he needs is peace."
Trowa nodded slowly. It made sense. No Treize meant no peace negotations, which
again meant more business and more money for the old man. Men doing business
with war would not shy away from murdering two people, no matter how important.
"So, what will you do?" Trowa asked quietly.
Shrugging, Treize shook his head. "What can I do? I will continue my
journey south and be more careful. Even though we have the ring, itīs not
enough to prove him guilty - unless you would be ready to give your testimony
in court." He lifted his eyebrows.
Trowa gripped the ring tightly. "I wish... I wish I could, but I can
assure you that my testimony would be more of harm than of help."
There was so much bitterness in the healerīs voice, that Treize lifted his
eyebrows. Before he could ask more though, there was a knock on the door.
"Yes?" Treize called out.
"Sir, the coach is ready," Rufus said through the door. "The
captain says we can set out to sea as soon as everybody is on board."
"We will be right there," Treize assured him, not moving away from
the door, nor taking his eyes from Trowa.
The intense look in the Countīs eyes was starting to make Trowa uncomfortable.
A moment of silence settled between the two men. In the end, it was Treize who
spoke first. "You know, there is this interesting thing I heard some years
ago. Dekim Barton should have had two nephews, twins, the sons of his brother.
It should have been them who inherited the whole fortune, not him. But somehow,
they were disinherited. The īsocial unsuitabilityī should have been the
reason." Treize paused, watching carefully for Trowaīs reaction. "The
boys disappeared mysteriously and the truth behind their īunfitnessī has never
been revealed. Do you know something about it?" Treize asked directly when
Trowa didnīt react at all to his speech.
Trowa looked the Count directly in the eyes. His face was expressionless, a
stone hard look in his eyes. "Why should I?" His voice was flat.
Treize regarded him silently for a moment. "I donīt know... but if I
remember it right, the boysī names were Triton and... Trowa, if my memory
doesnīt mistake me."
The healerīs only reaction was the tightening of his grip on the ring.
"Are you THE Trowa Barton, Dekim Bartonīs nephew?" Treize pushed
further, relentlessly searching answers to his questions.
For a long moment, Trowa was silent, looking at the Count without blinking.
Then his posture relaxed, just like his tightly clenched fist. "I think I
should go and fetch your mate and our newly bonded ones. The ship is
waiting." He opened his hand and dropped the ring on the white tablecloth.
When Trowa turned around and headed for the Countīs bedroom, Treize stared long
after him, an intrigued expression on his face.
TBC
Authorīs Notes:
I have no intention to turn it into a political
drama even though it might look so. The whole assassination plot was needed
to:
And Iīm truly sorry that I still didnīt manage to
write the lemon! Not enough time L