WHICH LORD?
The Lord Bamber!” Jacob managed to announce as Harold swept in.
Aaron was fine; he could see it right away. Perhaps a little pale under the tan, a little shaky, but whatever had happened, he was clearly on the mend. Reading a book on the cot, he looked up and burst into a grin. Given how many times in the past Harold had walked in to find his best friend in worse states, this was a miracle.
Harold tried not to think about those times; when Aaron had dropped to the floor; lost his life for a moment, and then another one. He also tried not to think about the fact that Aaron had given up everything so Harold could be standing here in uniform.
Aaron seemed overjoyed to see him, which made the guilt in Harold's chest feel worse.
“Harold,” he said, and got up to embrace his brother in law fiercely.
“Oh God, Aaron,” Harold said, unsure of which emotion to feel first. “Hello.”
“Hello,” Aaron grinned. “I swear I did not know you were coming. But somehow, the fates have brought us together.”
“Except this should not be the way,” Harold said. “You are Lord Bamber and I should be swinging from the noose for pushing our Captain.”
“Everything that was done needed to be done,” Aaron said without an ounce of regret. He was always happy, always smiling, even though his sacrifice had changed his whole life. “Look at you, the title is treating you well. I knew you'd take to it.”
“It is not...” Harold searched for the right word. “A bad life. Your sister has been extremely helpful.”
“How is Annabelle?” he asked. “I have not heard from her in a while.”
“My new child has kept her busy,” Harold said and Aaron grinned.
“What I would give to see them.”
“You can, I brought them,” Harold answered and Aaron choked.
“You did?” he said, joy overtaking him. “I have to see her.”
“Your twin sister can wait a moment,” Harold answered, urging Aaron not to go rushing out of the tent. “We should present a united story to tell. I do not want your cover blown.”
“Annabelle and I have been mischievous our whole life,” Aaron said. “I am sure we can manage now. Tell me, how are the others? You did not, perhaps, bring Shauna with you?”
“No,” Harold answered. “Although I see your wife and daughter often. They've taken up in the country home, and they are happy. I heard you were there.”
“About eight months ago,” Aaron admitted. “I wish I could have seen you then. But we barricaded ourselves in; I had not seen them in over a year.”
“I understand,” Harold said. “And did Shauna tell you...”
“Tell me what?” Aaron said, confused.
“About...my son.” Harold chose his words carefully. When Aaron was last in England, he and Annabelle had only had a daughter, a beautiful daughter. However, he was not sure whether the news of their son had reached him. It was more than just the news of providing him with a nephew. It meant that now, without a doubt, Aaron's illegitimate child with Shauna before they were married was in no position to inherit. A daughter was one thing, but a son was different. “His name is James.”
Aaron paled, but only for a second. “Congratulations,” he said, trying to cover it with a smile. Harold met his eyes, and silence passed between them.
“I promise you, Kirsten and Shauna will always be taken care of. I promise that...”
“Of course,” Aaron answered. “As soon as you and Annabelle were married, we knew a male heir was probable. I just...hearing it is different. It makes no difference, Harold.”
“It does,” Harold said. “But it will only be for good. Kirsten will never suffer for it. She will always be a Lady of this household, treated with the utmost respect.”
“I know,” Aaron said. “I trust you with that. You are my best friend, Harold, my brother, and I trust you with everything.”
Harold took a deep shuddering breath. “I wish that you did not have to. I wish you were at my side through this. It is you who should be announced as you come to me.”
“No sense dwelling on the past,” Aaron tried to reassure him. “We should meet our colleagues. We're going to plan the most epic battle, I think. It is going to be such great fun.”
Harold shook his head. “Only you, Aaron, could say that. Some things never change.”
“Some things do,” Aaron said, unable to resist. Harold met his eyes, and he knew in an instant that as much as they pretended to be alright, they weren't. It was so complicated, so intricate, their situation. Best friends since boyhood, Aaron had given up everything so that Harold could live, and while he might do it again, it would be hard to come to terms with it.
“Wesley seems...different,” Harold said, at last. Aaron snorted.
“Yes. He has fully embraced pirate life, it seems. Some days, I do not recognize him, which is frightening. Who would have thought the timid midshipmen would turn out to be bloodthirsty. And I hear Lola is not too happy about it.”
“She is not,” Harold answered. “The story she tells is that they are separated.”
“He told me. Is she acting like they are separated?”
“If by that you mean slamming the doors of my house and talking to my wife at all hours of the night, then yes. If you mean seeing other people, as far as I know, the answer is no. It...” he paused. “It reminds me what a jewel Annabelle is. When a marriage breaks down, it makes you remember what you do have.”
“Yes,” Aaron replied. “It does. Poor Lola though. Poor Wesley.”
“I am sorry..." Harold said, because he felt there was nothing else he could say. Aaron waved his hand, but heaviness hung in the air. “Let me talk to your sister, what story would you like to use?”
They had to fake every aspect of their relationship now, especially in a camp where security was of the essence.
“I'll just meet her as your wife, and we can duck into a tent to talk,” Aaron replied. “It does not have to be complicated. And the other commanding officer?”
“Holde,” Harold said. “He seems....” He searched for the right words to describe him. “Rough. Risen from the ranks, I think.”
“Ah, that type,” Aaron managed a smile at last. “Should be fun. I should meet him too.”
“Are you...able?” Harold asked, and Aaron shrugged.
“Should be. It was not bad. Besides, I want to talk to Jacob and Enola again. They seem like they have a whole strategy planned outside of our realm of knowledge. It is amazing.”
Harold smiled at Aaron's point of view. No matter what the situation, Aaron usually found an optimistic way to look at it. In addition, of course he was already on a first name basis with everyone here. Aaron had a way of meeting people and setting them at ease, even as a pirate lord. When they sailed together on the Stallion, there was barely a man on the ship who didn't consider Aaron his close friend.
“Come on then,” Harold said, not moving in case Aaron needed him for balance. However, the pirate lord managed to move forward on his own, and they exited the tent without much issue.
The camp was busy, with probably twice the amount of men that it was meant to hold, never mind the civilians and camp followers that should not really be there.
Aaron's pirates snapped to attention at once and stopped moving, not quite bowing, but not disrespecting his presence. They were quite a sight in a camp full of men who were off duty.
“How...?” Harold asked, baffled, as they passed them. Aaron shrugged.
“They started doing that about three years ago. I certainty did not tell them to.”
“To think that pirates are better behaved then...” Harold let the thought drift, but Aaron raised an eyebrow.
“Just because we choose a different lifestyle does not mean we lose our civility.” He didn't mean to be harsh, but he had heard so much judgment over the past few years; gotten so many nasty looks and comments. It was true, pirates usually had a reputation. Nevertheless, Aaron resented the fact that everyone saw their profession and not who they were as people, who they used to be. He had come to expect it from the general public, but not from his best friend.
“Of course,” Harold regretted his tongue, but the tension was thick in the air as they approached the tent.
Approaching from the other side of the camp, Enola had offered to point Major Holde in the right direction. The man did not seem to know his right from left, and she eventually gave in, walking with him.
“Are you alright?” she asked as they walked. “I only ask because I am a healer, so if....”
“Fine,” he said, rubbing the side of his chin, where red-blond stubble was growing in. “Fine.”
“Of course,” she replied, ducking her head to the ground. Although she looked demure, she was watching his gait. There was something wrong with him, although she was certain it was in his mind, and not in his body. “It has been a long war, for all of us.”
He glanced at her then. “Your people...” He was not sure whether that was the right word. “Are they here?”
“No,” Enola said. “I have no family here. Except for Jacob. Do you?” She was referring to the wives and camp followers that marched with them. Holde's faced changed and she regretted her words.
“No,” he said, his jaw hardening. “No.”
“My apologies, sir,” she said. “I am sorry for your loss.”
He turned his head toward her. “How did you know that I lost someone?”
“Would you react that way if you did not?” she asked patiently. “There is no shame in loss or grief.”
He shook his head. “This is war. It is expected.”
“It is expected, but not easier because of it,” she answered, trying to find common ground. “We see loss differently. We believe that we started in Nature and will end there, only to cycle through. Nothing is ever really gone; everyone contributes to the circle of life.”
He said nothing for a few moments, as they brushed through the high grass. “I wish I could see it the same,” he said. “But my wife is dead.”
“I am sorry,” she repeated, knowing that there was no way to get him to see her side of things; at least not now. Besides, he was about to head into a strategic meeting; it was no time to debate religion and death.
Jacob was standing outside the officer's tent, clearly waiting for Holde. He glanced at Enola as she stepped backwards to let him enter. “Are you coming?”
“I am sorry?” she looked at him like he had lost his mind. “Where?”
“Inside,” he said and she blinked.
“Did I miss something? You are having a strategy meeting, are you not? I am not a soldier, Jacob.”
“Indeed you are not,” he answered. “But you are a representative for your people, and my commander has some...plans, remember?”
“For me? I was willing to come when it was just a plain meeting...are you sure he wants to see me?” she asked. “Jacob, you have been playing up the fact that I am a princess, but I am no longer...”
“Can you just hear what he has to say?” Jacob asked. “Besides, Lord Bamber is in there.”
“And?” she asked, confused. Jacob lowered his voice.
“I do not know what to do with a Lord, Enola. I have never met nobility in my life.”
“I do not think he is a real lord,” Enola answered. “I think he married in.”
“That does not make it better,” Jacob replied and she sighed.
“You realize how unorthodox this is, do not you?” she asked.
“This is war, Enola, nothing is unorthodox. Or everything is,” he said as he held open the tent flap and she ducked inside. At least, if they could not sleep, the day was interesting.