The Knights of Sheba, Episode 6: "Party" B

The Knights of Sheba 106 B…Start

 

            Claude and Shirley get back to the hotel late.  They are greeted by the woman tending the front desk, who gives a warm smile and a wink at Claude as he passes. Claude blushes and tries not to make eye contact.  Shirley, meanwhile, smiles and waves.

            They walk down the hall together, Claude leading, Shirley trailing.  He unlocks his door and shows her into his dark, cluttered hotel room.  Clothes remain piled around the floor.  A few empty food containers are stacked neatly on his table.  He gathers them quickly and tries to jam them into his trashcan but finds it wanting.

            “Sorry,” he says, looking at her.  He rubs the back of his neck.  “It’s kind of a mess.”

            Shirley nods and looks around the room.  “I understand.  You’re pretty much living out of a suitcase.”

            Claude glances at his empty suitcase and says, “Yeah, pretty much.”

            “Bathroom, over here,” she asks, pointing to a door.  He nods.  “Okay, I’ll be right out,” she says, and she slips inside.

            While she uses the restroom, Claude goes down the hall and asks for the key to the storage closet.  The woman at the desk giggles and gives it to him, and he blushes more and leaves without another word.  He grabs an extra pillow and an extra blanket, and then he returns the key.  Back in his room, he clears a spot on the floor for him to sleep.

            When Shirley steps out of the bathroom, she is wearing nothing but a long t-shirt that barely reaches mid-thigh.  Claude can’t help but stare at her long, shapely legs as she walks. She falls onto the bed and Claude catches sight of her rear before she lands.

            He looks away.

            She pulls the blanket up around her waist and watches Claude clear the floor. “Uh, what in the world do you think you’re doing?”

            Claude looks up, hesitantly and, finding her covered, makes eye contact.  “I’m sleeping on the floor.”

            “I figured out that much.  What I mean is, why?”

            “Because I won’t make you,” he says, dropping his pillow.

            “Right, but there’s no reason for you to, either.  We can share the bed.”

            “No,” Claude says, imagining her rear and the way it filled her underwear.  His blush deepens.  “No, we can’t.”

            “Oh, come on, Claude, we’ve shared a bed plenty of times.”

            “When we were kids.”

            “We’re still young.”

            “We’re plenty older,” Claude says, looking anywhere but at her.

            “Claude, this isn’t that big of a deal, but if you are going to force yourself to sleep on the floor, then I can go to the front desk and rent a room for myself.”

            “No,” he says.  “No, you shouldn’t.  Come on, just let it go.  I’d be more comfortable this way.”

            “No, you won’t.  No one is more comfortable on the floor.  So, just stop being a baby and share the bed with me.  If it makes you more comfortable, we can sleep back-to-back.”

            “It won’t.”

            “Please, Claude.”

            He sighs.  “Fine,” he says, shaking his head.  “I don’t know why I even tried to argue with you.”

            “Neither do I,” says Shirley, beaming.

            Claude climbs into the bed with every intention of slipping out when she falls asleep.  She settles quickly and is out in a matter of minutes, while Claude lies awake, staring at the ceiling, heart pumping and mind racing.  He tries to remember the young girl from his childhood, but the girl he knew didn’t have legs like hers.

            Before he can make it out of bed, Shirley stretched out and throws one leg over him.  Claude sighs and resigns himself to his fate.  No matter how hard he tries, he knows Shirley, and he knows that she will always be at his back, and, deep down, he finds comfort in that.

            He falls asleep with Shirley there beside him just like they did when they were children.

 

-The Knights of Sheba-

 

            Three demons approach Seere’s vicounty, travelling from Andromalius’ duchy.  They wear dark, tattered cloaks and carry with them heavy satchels filled with loot, and they smile broadly at their return.

            When approaching the city, they are hailed by guards and escorted to the keep.  There, they are immediately granted audience with Seere.  They wait for him in the throne room, holding their satchels tight to their breasts and staring ahead as Ruka watches them.  Even in good times, he is an imposing figure.

            Seere enters from a back passage and greets them warmly.  He wears a long, purple robe with intricate embroidery.  They bow at his presence and wait for him to speak before standing.  “I see you’ve returned, and from the looks of things, you come bearing gifts,” he says, taking his throne.

            The three approach cautiously, watching Ruka as they do.  They set their bags at Seere’s feet and await his appraisal.  “There is more,” says the tall one in the center, their leader.  “Much more, both fitting your description and some entirely outside of it.  We did what we could, but it truly is a magnificent sight.”

            “Oh,” Seere says, pulling open the satchel in the center.  He finds a dark, wooden box with gold filigree cut into the surface, and he pulls it out to examine its contents.  Inside of the box is a soft fabric with three rings evenly spaced on it.  He smiles and sets the box aside on the floor.

            While Seere looks, the leader says, “We were there only a short time, but we saw entire cities, some broken, some standing.  They were abandoned.  No bodies, no blood, just trees and vines and stone, and there was this husk in the sky, floating.”

            “It looked like an eye,” says one.  “Like it was watching us.”

            “Yes,” Seere says, examining the contents of another bag.  Inside is a spear, its blade dulled and aged, its haft broken.  He recognizes it from one of his books.

            “There is much more than that.  We could have brought more, but were afraid it would weigh us down.”

            “I suspected as much.  Genocide is simple.  The extermination of their entire history, however, is not.”  Seere sets the sack aside and graces them with a smile.  “You’ve done wonderfully,” he says, and he carefully undoes the last bag and examines its contents.  Inside is jewelry beset with gemstones the size of eyeball, circlets polished to a shine, and other fineries. “Ruka, see to it that they are paid for their services.”

            “My lord,” Ruka says, and he turns to a guard nearby and issues orders.  The guard goes to the three and leads them away.

            The leader lingers for a bit.  “My lord, will you be calling upon us again.”

            “In the future, yes, but not for now.  Stay alive, however, and I will call.”

            “Of course, my lord,” he says, and he bows again before leaving.

            Once alone, Seere has Ruka carry the satchels to the viscount’s chamber.  There, he carefully extracts their contents, piece by piece, and lays them out on his war table.  Ruka watches nearby, looking bored and, at times, frustrated.  After Seere finishes one satchel, Ruka approaches and picks up the box.  He examines the rings while frowning.

            “Forgive my lack of imagination, my lord, but what will you do with such trinkets?”

            “A great many things,” Seere says, resting the spearhead on the table.  He places the broken haft beside it.  “A great, great many things.  You mustn’t look at each individual piece in terms of what is but what could be.  Myths abound, Ruka.  We have a full stock of them in our library.”

            Ruka returns the box to the table. “Yes, but I fail to see how stories will help us win wars.”

            “Because stories are history, and history is culture.  Everything that we were, everything that we have become, is found within those books.  Again, you must not look at stories and see stories, but see what they could and have become, what history they may be hiding.”

            “If I may, is that how you predicted the reopening of the gate?”

            Seere gives a modest smile.  “If I had to call that anything, I’d call it intuition, or perhaps luck.  No, the myths have given me much more. For example…”  Seere picks up the broken spear and shows it to Ruka.  It glints the midday light.  “This is what those myths have shown me.”

            “And what is it?”

            “A tool,” Seere says.  “Something to bargain with and, if I do it right, it will be the key to our future.”

 

-The Knights of Sheba-

 

            Nina swings high, purposefully missing, and watches Geneva duck and stumble before falling.  Then, she watches Geneva growl and rub her bottom.  Nina pauses and cradles her wooden sword on her shoulder.  “Are you okay?  Your performance today is in decline.”

            “Fine, just…”  Geneva physically reaches for the word.  “Fuzzy,” she says, gesturing vaguely with her hand.  She staggers to her feet.

            “Will this happen every time I allow you an evening off?”

            “No,” Geneva groans.  “At least, I hope not.”

            “Yes, well, we’re not getting anywhere talking about it.  Let’s continue.” Nina steps in and brings her blade down overhead.  Geneva barely reacts before it lands.

            “Ow!”

            “If you don’t want to be hit, then dodge,” Nina says, spinning dramatically on heel and bringing her blade around.  This time, Geneva dodges, ducking under and stumbling away.

            “Can’t we call it a day,” Geneva asks, retreating.  She blocks a series of quick swipes and catches one to her side.  Wincing, she says, “I’m really not feeling well.”

            “Use the pain as a distraction,” Nina says.  She swings hard and knocks Geneva off balance.  While Geneva stumbles, Nina closes distance and knocks her over.  Geneva lies on the floor, holding her stomach and groaning.  “No time for lament,” Nina says, pacing a circle around Geneva.  “Get up and go again.”

 

-The Knights of Sheba-

 

            Early next morning Claude, prepares for work while Shirley sleeps.  He slept better than he expected and finds himself well-rested, if a bit flustered.  After changing into his uniform, he lingers at the doorway and stares at Shirley.  She is half covered by a blanket and sleeping soundly. 

            After his shift, he returns to his room but doesn’t find her waiting.  He showers and changes before returning to the hall to ask the front desk if they saw Shirley leave.  On the way, he finds Shirley talking with Thomas.  The two are laughing as he approaches.

            “Oh, Claude,” Thomas says, pulling Claude over and patting him on the shoulder.  “You didn’t tell me that you had a lovely lady friend visiting.”

            Claude looks from Shirley to his manager and stammers.  “I—Well—See—Thing is…” He takes a deep breath.  “Sorry,” he says, “I hope I’m not taking advantage of your hospitality.”

            Thomas laughs and pats him on the back again.  “Oh, no need to be so considerate.  I’m glad you finally had a friend up.  Was worried you might be getting lonely, and Shirley here is a real sweetheart.”

            “Well, thank you very much,” Shirley says.  “And, thanks for putting Claude up.  We’ve all been worried.”

            “What, you haven’t been keeping in contact with them?”

            “Not a word from him,” Shirley says.  “Can you believe that?”

            Thomas shakes his head.  “Well, it’s no problem besides.  He’s a good worker, and I’m happy to have him.”  He glances at his watch.  “Speaking of which, I should be getting off.”  He nudges Claude.  “Now that you got a friend up here, might be a good time to go house hunting.  No rush, just a thought,” Thomas says.

            Claude pauses, rubbing his neck.  He looks at Shirley.  “So, that’s my boss, Tom.”

            Shirley laughs.  “He seems nice.”

            “He is.”

            “Well, come on, let’s get something to eat.”

            “Shirley.”

            “Claude, do you really want to make an argument over this?”  She doesn’t wait for a response and leaves him with no alternative but to sigh and follow her out the door.

 

-The Knights of Sheba-

 

            They return to the same restaurant and settle into the same booth.  Claude watches the cars drift by.  It is the first time he has been here during the day. It is quieter and emptier inside, and the waitresses seem to have much more energy.

            “So, how was work,” Shirley asks while picking at her meal.  She ordered a salad, and Claude figures it is buried somewhere beneath the mountain of dressing and croutons.

            “Fine. Wet,” Claude says.  “Some days, I’m afraid I won’t get the smell off of me.”

            “Oh, you smell fine,” Shirley says.

            Claude blushes, sips at his water.

            “So, I was thinking,” Shirley says, waving a dripping fork full of lettuce at him, “Tom might have the right idea about you moving out. Claude, I think we should move in together.”

            Claude chokes.  He stares at her for a moment before wiping his mouth.  After catching his breath, he sums up his feelings with a simple, “What?”

            “What do you mean, what? I think we should move in together.”

            “I know, but Shirley…”

            “But Claude,” she says.  “It makes sense.  You’ve already got a job, and I already have a job.  You can’t live there forever, and we’ve known each other since we were kids.”

            “I know, I know, it’s just a big step.”

            “So was moving up here on your own,” Shirley says.  “We’re good a big steps.  Let’s take this one together.”

            “Just let me think about it.”

            “Alright, alright, I’ll stop bringing it up,” Shirley says and glances at his fries.  “Can I have one of these,” she asks, spearing one and taking a bite before he responds.  She laughs as Claude complains about her always stealing his food and, for Claude, the familiarity is comforting.

 

The Knights of Sheba 106…End