Three days later, we now found ourselves well within Anatolia, modern day Turkey, a mountainous and desolate strip of land with few people and even fewer settlements. There wasn’t much to look at, except sparsely populated trees and an arid climate that wasn’t quite as barren as the desert region that was soon to come.
We set up camp after a grueling third day of travel and turned in for the night. Once again, I found myself unable to sleep. Helena laid to my left, sound asleep as she always was, but there was nothing I could do. Even counting sheep failed. In a fit of frustration, I slapped my sleeping mat next to me, not even feeling bad because I knew it wouldn’t so much as disturb Helena.
Sometimes I really hated her.
But not really.
With no sunrise to watch and no way to rejuvenate my body, I quietly got up and made for the tent’s exit. With a final glance at Helena, I shook my head. She always looked so beautiful and peaceful when asleep that it was hard to imagine any harm could ever come to her. My lips tightened at the thought, but I turned and left the tent, suddenly troubled.
Our tents were arranged around a campfire, three modern and two homemade. A few dozen yards away, Wang was situated in our temporary observation post / listening post on overwatch duty for the entire camp. He controlled Santino’s UAV and could monitor the area around the camp from all directions. With him on duty, the camp was more than safe. I could have sought him out for a chat, but seated next to the campfire was Vincent, who was due to take over for Wang in half an hour.
He was warming his remaining hand over the fire, wearing a light fleece jacket and his night op combat fatigue pants. It was cold tonight, so I had donned a fleece as well, but only wore a pair of black shorts over my legs.
A short and chilly walk later, I joined Vincent by the fire, nodding my greetings to him. I sat on a log awaiting its turn in the fire and felt my shins and thighs begin to warm immediately. We sat there in companionable silence for a few moments, waiting as two patient men could, the quiet lingering for quite some time. After a while, he took an audible breath and stuffed his hand deep in a pocket and gazed up at the stars.
“Beautiful night,” he commented.
I glanced upwards as well to discover what could indeed only be described as a gorgeous night.
“Yes,” I said vacantly. “It really is.”
Vincent lowered his eyes to look at me and raised his eyebrows.
“What is it, Jacob?” He said, sensing my apprehension. “You’ve never been very good at hiding the fact that you have something on your mind, and it seems four years hasn’t changed that.”
“Really?” I asked. “Helena seems to have trouble with it from time to time.”
He chuckled. “Helena is a very gifted young woman, but I’ve been around quite a bit longer than she has.”
“True,” I admitted, before letting out a long breath, closing my teeth with a series of loud clicks, staring into the fire.
After a few seconds, Vincent laughed again.
“It’s all right,” he said between chuckles.
“I don’t think it is, Vincent,” I said, shaking my head while I wrapped my arms around my knees. “Helena didn’t tell the whole story back in Byzantium. There’s more to it. Much more.” I paused. “Bad more.”
Vincent nodded but remained silent, so I pressed on with everything.
I started with Varus and our encounter aboard Agrippina’s barge. Vincent was interested to see the inscription Varus had provided me with, but was unable to make anything of it as well. It wasn’t something we were equipped to deal with at the moment so I moved on to what happened within Agrippina’s bed chamber.
I told him about my encounter with the orb and about how it enticed me with its presence, beckoning me to use it, steal it, pick it up, something. I still couldn’t fully explain exactly what it had done to me in that moment, but the memory of how I tortured Agrippina was as fresh as ever. Vincent sat in silence as I detailed what I had done to her, and said nothing more when I began to close my tale by recounting the things Agrippina had said to me, the things that had planted utter confusion and reticence in my mind. I completed my story by telling him how I tried to kill her, and how I couldn’t quell the emotional anguish I still felt from it. Vincent let me grieve for a few minutes, my sobs threatening to rain tears down on our raging fire, but only just quite.
“Have you spoken to Helena about this?” He asked finally when I’d settled down and composed myself.
I found myself staring into the fire as he spoke and I forced myself to meet his eyes. “Mostly. Without her…” I paused, unable to find the right words, “…without her, I don’t know where I’d be right now, but she’s the only person I’ve been able to talk to about it at all.”
Vincent shifted on his log and removed his hand from his pocket.
“Then why did you feel the need to speak with me?”
That was a good question. I wasn’t sure what I was seeking from Vincent. He wasn’t my father, in either the religious or paternal sense, but he was the next best thing. Maybe I sought acceptance or absolution, or maybe I just needed someone else to talk to. The older man sensed my apprehension and pressed his point.
“You know I am not a priest. All I can offer you is little more than an ear to listen with.”
“I know, but I thought that maybe…”
“Maybe what, Jacob? That I’d listen to your sins, make you say a Hail Mary and two Our Fathers, and send you on your way? Helena is a wonderful, caring, empathetic person. What can I offer you that she can’t?”
I threw my hands in the air and smacked my knees with them.
“A different perspective, maybe? Helena is many things, but not exactly impartial when it comes to Agrippina. The only reason she’s accepted what I’ve done is because she thinks she’d have done the same thing, but she wouldn’t have. She isn’t affected by the orb like I am. No one else is. I… I could use a little direction here.”
“You’ve been second guessing yourself,” he said matter of factly. “Hesitating. Questioning what was once natural instinct. Am I correct?”
I glanced away again before meeting his eyes. “I haven’t been sleeping well either, actually. I don’t know what my problem is. It’s like my brain just shuts down and refuses to cooperate. Is that normal?”
This time it was Vincent’s time to stare off into the fire. “To your last question, I have no answer, but I have seen what you are experiencing before.” He paused and closed his eyes. “In me.”
“Sir?” I asked, wondering where he was going with this.
He stood and moved around the fire to sit on a log closer to where I was sitting. After a few seconds he closed his eyes and said, “Hunter, I’m going to tell you something I haven’t spoken publicly of in almost thirty years. It happened just after I finished my required tour of duty in Switzerland, and found myself back in my home town of Kloten.”
He stopped again, not a pause, but a complete shutdown of his thoughts. He worked his jaw, as if he were still contemplating telling me anything. I began to wonder if he’d renege on his story, but after thirty seconds, he finally continued.
“On the first night of my return,” he started softly, with obvious hesitation, “I was reunited with my sweetheart of five years. We’d gone to school together and I was certain we’d be married just as soon as I finished my time in the service. I took her to dinner and a play that night, a small affair as the city is not big, but we had a fabulous time…” he trailed off, a small smile forming on his lips before he repressed it completely and his remaining hand balled itself into a tight fist. “But that night would soon become the worst of my life.
“We were walking home through a dark alley, not dangerous, just dark, holding hands as we laughed and talked, but as we approached the main road, two men stepped out from around the corner. The first man pulled a gun on us and the second pulled a tire iron from his belt.