Veiled Releasing the Magic 4 1st Edition

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 VEILED

RELEASING THE MAGIC BOOK FOUR

MAYA RILEY
 CONTENTS

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20

Also By Maya
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Veiled: Releasing the Magic Book 4 © 2020 by Riley Publishing LLC

This is a work of fiction and is for mature audiences only. Names, characters,
businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s
imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons,
living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

No part of this publication may be reproduced in, stored in a retrieval system, or

transmitted, in any form or by any mechanical, without the prior written
permission of the copyright owner.

Cover Art and Formatting: Jessica Campagna

Editor: Jess Rousseau with Elemental Editing

**18+ Reverse Harem Romance. Warning: this book contains some scenes and
references of abuse that some readers may find triggering**
Created with Vellum
Thank you Margaret and Rachel for always making me laugh.
Keep recycling those hands.
 1

Blyss

M y screams still echoed in my ears, even days later. The

realization of what was going on was so horrific, it took me a
while to comprehend the screams were coming from me.
The shock of seeing her might have been too great. I wasn’t
even sure if what I’d seen was true. How could Mama G be here? If
she really was in league with the Black Moon Corporation all this
time, then why hadn’t I been carted back to that lab all those years
ago when she first found me, or even during the years I’d spent in
her care?
I let out a noise of exasperation and banged the back of my head
against the cold concrete floor beneath me. It didn’t matter to me if
I did any damage to myself, I would heal from it anyway. There was
no one here I could hide from, this cage put me on display for all to
see. It was impossible not to notice the lingering eyes of everyone
who walked by. The awe on their faces when they saw who was
finally inside was now permanently etched into my mind. A reminder
that my past had taken me back.
No matter what I did, or what they did to me, I would heal. Even
when I didn’t want to. My body seemed to have a natural response
to survival, regardless of what my brain would tell it.
 The pain might very well end up being the one thing that could
get me through this. I welcomed the sharp ache that shot through
my head, and for a moment, I wondered if I could continue to bang
the back of my skull on the concrete floor hard enough to knock
myself out so I wouldn’t have to witness anything they would do to
me for a while. It could be a brief escape. The only downside to that
would be lying here unconscious while they did who knew what to
me. Things so horrific I couldn’t decide if I even wanted to know at
all.
Even if I couldn’t do anything about it either way, the possibility
of not knowing might be even scarier. The stress from being a caged
animal was preventing me from weighing the different outcomes. I
had no idea what I even wanted.
The fear in the unknown situation filled with people I didn’t trust
was great enough for me to gently lay my head back on the floor
and wait to see what would happen next.
The small window in the ceiling above me showed a cloudy sky.
No birds flew overhead, and the sun was nowhere to be seen. The
view was as dreary as I felt on the inside.
I lay there, letting the silence engulf me as I dreaded everything
that would possibly transpire next.
I must have drifted off to sleep, because the sound of something
tapping against glass startled me. I jumped up, standing with my
feet spread in a defensive position, my hands clawing at my hips to
grab weapons that weren’t there. I had nothing on me except for
this confining orange jumpsuit, and I tried not to think about how I
even got in it.
Dr. Crazy’s face appeared at the glass, a clipboard in one hand
held up for me to read. Put these on.
Confused, I stared at the message for a few moments before a
pair of handcuffs slid through the small flap at the bottom with
enough force for them to land at my feet.
I wanted nothing more than to tell him to fuck off and run away.
Unfortunately, it was looking like the only way out of this place
would be to abide by their wishes until an opening revealed itself for
me to fight my way out.
 With feigned amenableness, I reached down and picked up the
handcuffs, then placed them around each wrist. I tried to leave a
little bit of space in the hopes I could slip out of them once I got
outside this room, but the cuffs snapped closed, causing me to cry
out in surprise when the cool metal dug into my skin, then I bit my
lip to keep from crying out again when I felt a second pinch. Before
I could think too much on that or determine another plan to get out,
he tapped at the glass and held up the clipboard again.
Nice try, I’ll give you that. But it won’t be as easy as you think.
The crazy man’s voice crackled through my mind as I read his
handwritten words, and I hesitated, afraid to go near him. He pulled
out a small key card and swiped it, opening the door. “Come on.”
Now, with no barrier between us, I couldn’t seem to get my feet
to move. I urged them forward, since the sooner I got out of this
room the sooner I could start searching for an escape, but my limbs
were frozen in place. It was as though I didn’t have full control.
A shiver went down my spine. I didn’t want to go anywhere with
him. I simply wanted to be out of this place and back at the
Salvaged Lands, the only place I’d ever fully felt safe in my life.
The smile that cut across his face turned down in a frown, his
eyes darkening at my refusal to move. “I said come on. Do you
remember what happens when you disobey?”
Fractured memories tried to move their way to the forefront of
my mind. I couldn’t fully recall them, but from what I could piece
together from my childhood years spent in captivity, it wasn’t
pleasant. I couldn’t remember the exact things that had happened,
but I could remember pain and misery. Not wanting to find out for
something so trivial, something that was unavoidable in this
moment, I moved forward. One step in front of the other, until I’d
reached the opening.
Dr. Crazy motioned for me to walk in front of him, which I did.
We ambled down the silent hall, his hand on my back, guiding me.
My nerves stood on end at his unwelcome touch, but there didn’t
seem to be anything I could do about it. Not if I wanted to get out
of here alive. I would do whatever I could to gain his trust and keep
an eye out for that one brief moment where he’d hopefully let his
guard down.
The hall was silent, the only sounds were the pitter-patter of my
boots on the shiny, tiled floor. For a hidden place within a world that
was supposedly deserted, this structure was cleaned up better than
I’d expected.
I focused on the sounds my steps made, each one falling into a
rhythm. The tempo helped distract me from the monster at my back.
I was so focused on it, I nearly missed the faint noises coming from
a few cells ahead. My ears perked up, and I turned my attention to
the possibility of there being another captor here like me. While I
hated the thought that someone else was being held here against
their will, I saw the person as a potential comrade and began to
daydream about joining forces and escaping together.
We neared the cell where the faint sounds were coming from,
and I dared myself to look inside the glass wall. The inside was
similar to mine—the same concrete floor, the same exposed
porcelain throne, the same uncomfortable cot. The only difference
was the person on the cot.
The girl’s shoulder-length black hair was the only part of her I
could see from where she was lying on the cot. Her untrimmed nails
rapped on the metal railing of her bed, the chime that had caught
my attention. She was otherwise so silent and so still, I would have
walked right past her and never known of her existence.
A million questions crossed my mind, jumbling themselves up so
none could make it to my mouth. I wanted to call out to her, to get
her attention, to have that moment of captive camaraderie, but she
never turned her head. She didn’t even notice a new captive was
being escorted through the halls right in front of her. She remained
lying there, possibly staring up at the ceiling just as I had countless
times over. The only difference was, unlike me, she didn’t have a
skylight. Did she even know what the moon looked like? How long
had she been here?
Judging by her body language of boredom, she’d been trapped
here for quite some time.
 A pressure at my back urged me forward, and I realized I’d
stopped moving when I saw the girl. Now that she was out of sight,
I couldn’t cease thinking about her. My mind filled with questions
repeating over and over again, and I hoped I would get the chance
to talk to her. Perhaps we could figure out a way out of here
together.
“She’s another semi-failure.” The voice behind me sent chills
down my neck as he spoke. His tone was icy, lacking all the warmth
a sane person would have. Or at least, a person sane enough to not
be him.
I opened my mouth to ask for more information, but he
continued on in a prideful monologue. “At first, I thought I’d cracked
the code. Many times I thought I was on the right path to creating
another one of you, especially when I took your blood. But so far
every other time has been a failure.” He guided me around a corner
and down another hall, never taking his hand off my back. I tried to
quicken my steps, but he only sped up to keep pace with me. “We’ve
had some near successes, but so far none of them are you.”
“What do you mean by near successes, and semi-failure?” My
voice was raspy when it first came out. After some time of not
speaking, it was strange to hear myself talk again.
“Ones who can heal themselves, but don’t seem to have an
effect on anyone or anything else. It’s a tragedy really. Or at least it
was, until you stumbled into our grasp. Imagine my surprise when I
got a call that you’d been captured.” I could nearly hear the smile in
his voice. “It was a good surprise indeed. I was already on my way
here after finding out that you’d been spotted. But getting captured
too? Saved me a lot of hassle. Almost makes up for that stunt you
pulled at our last meeting.”
I ground my teeth so hard my jaw began to hurt. I should’ve
made sure you were dead, I thought to myself, refusing to open my
mouth in fear of the wrong words coming out. Words that could
make this situation much, much worse.
What he basically told me, though, was that Anaya wasn’t the
only one who could heal only their self. By the sounds of it, there
must be others out there. I took comfort in the thought that he had
no knowledge of Anaya. If he did, then I had every certainty that
she would be trapped here with me.
My brain became sluggish and I lost my train of thought.
Shouldn’t I be fighting to get away? Even with these handcuffs, my
legs still worked, mostly, and a kick to the groin would be just what
the doctor needed.
We came to a stop outside a closed door that looked exactly the
same as all the others. Every hallway and door were so similar, it
was impossible to try and make a mental map of this place. My heart
hammered against my chest as I turned the doorknob with sweaty
palms. Inside was the setup I’d been dreading. An experimental lab
for them, but a place of nightmares for me, if Mama G could stop
hogging every nightmare I had.
There was a metal chair in the center of the room that looked
like it unfolded to turn into a table. There was also a computer,
surgical tools, and bars around the space. The single, fluorescent
light flickered over the chair that was meant for me as I reminded
myself I was doing what was necessary to stay alive. For some
reason, I couldn’t fight back right now, but someday I would. And
when that day came, I would set this place on fire if that was what it
took to get out.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I walked through the opening
in the bars and Dr. Crazy pushed me down onto the metal chair.
Steal bands shot up and snapped into place around my upper arms
as soon as my butt hit the seat.
“Hey,” I squeaked, struggling against the solid metal with no
success.
“It’s only a precaution,” Dr. Crazy replied, as he closed the door
to the bars behind him and sat down at the computer. “Relax. You
have a lot of experiments ahead of you,” he said, not reassuring me
at all.
“She doesn’t know how to relax.”
Breaking through my strange fog, I snapped my head around,
twisting and turning my body as much as the bands would allow,
searching out the owner of the cold, familiar voice. A figure sitting in
a chair in a corner stood up and stepped from the shadows. My
ribcage threatened to break with how much my heart sped up at the
sight of Mama G. With the amount I was now sweating, I wouldn’t
be surprised if I could easily slip through the wrist bands soon.
I tried to tell her off, to say something, anything, but my voice
didn’t seem to be working right now.
Her lips twitched up into a smile. “Well? You don’t have anything
to say to your dear mother after all this time?”
Slowly, I shook my head, not wanting to talk to her at all. She
stepped up to the bars, her face ghastly in the flickering bright light.
Her eyes roved up and down my body, and I recoiled as much as the
metal chair would allow.
“I tried calling you, but you never picked up. I was worried that
maybe you’d be infected by the virus, so imagine my surprise to find
that after all these months, you’re still healthy and alive.”
“I dropped my phone,” I blurted out. It wasn’t the string of curse
words I wanted to hurl at her, but at least my voice was working
after all.
Her smile faded a bit, apparently not pleased with my lame
excuse at running away from her. “You didn’t come home. Your
siblings and I were worried something dreadful had happened to
you.”
The mention of my siblings was exactly what I needed to break
out of my daze of terror. It was possible she had no idea I had been
with Maura and Jakobe. If she knew, then they would most likely be
here, too, as some sick way to bend me to their will.
“How are they?” I asked, hoping she wouldn’t suspect anything.
She sighed. “I haven’t seen them since they ran away. Either to
fight the rotters or to search for you, I have no idea.” Her hand
slithered up to clasp at the front of her faded pink blouse. “I was
hoping you would have found each other and kept each other safe.”
“That’s bullshit,” I scoffed.
Yup, there I was. I was coming back. Curse words and all. No
idea if that was a good thing at this moment, but it was happening.
She frowned. If she could reach far enough through the bars to
slap me, I had no doubt she would. “You should be thanking me. If
it weren’t for me, you would have been handed over and locked up
in the first lab the day I brought you home from the group home.
You were lucky.”
I choked on a laugh. “Lucky? Nobody is lucky to end up with you.
You’re the worst thing to ever happen to anyone.” The deepening of
her frown and clenching of her jaw fueled me and I wanted to keep
going. To tear further into the woman who had spent so many years
tearing into others. “Being with you is worse than spending a
lifetime in this place.”
“Then you’ll be relieved to know that me and this place are one
in the same.”
“Are you going to keep talking, to keep failing in your attempts to
convince me that you’re a decent bitch, or are you going to get on
with it already? To tell me what exactly you’ve been up to and why
you are here right now? Because while I unfortunately have all day
to listen to you draw it out like a slow death, I would much rather
not.”
Her hand fell from her blouse and rested against her black cotton
skirt. A trickle of blood appeared from where she clenched her fist so
hard, her manicured fingernails dug into her palm. How she kept her
nails looking this nice for being this far into a virus decimated world
was beyond me. Although it wouldn’t surprise me if she hoarded a
whole stockpile of products, because God forbid she ever be caught
looking like the monster she truly was. I’d only seen the reclaimed
dressed like this, and for a moment I wondered if she was playing
them too.
She never opened her mouth. Her beady eyes burned into mine
and we were locked in a staring contest until I felt a prick at my arm
and the world around me faded into nothingness.

Mateo

I watched the blood trickle from my hand and mix with the dirt on
the ground. Splintered bark from the tree I was taking my anger out
on cut into my skin, but I didn’t feel a thing. I hadn’t felt anything
since she disappeared.
We’d been looking for her nonstop. The entire town had spread
out, covering all the surrounding area by foot and driving to all the
neighboring towns by car. I even searched the nearby lab with
Lincoln, Adam, and Jonah, but she was nowhere to be found. Lincoln
was about to torch the lab in his frustration, but we managed to
calm him down before he took us out with it. If she was taken by
somebody with connection to it, that could be our only link. We were
visiting it nearly daily, looking for more clues each time, but we
always came back empty handed. It was a big underground facility,
so it was impossible to search through each room and item in one
go.
My breath was still heavy as I pulled my fist from the tree. Pieces
of the bark cascaded to the ground, evidence of yet another time I’d
lost my shit.
If she wouldn’t have run into us those months ago. If she hadn’t
injured her ankle and been forced to stay with us until she was
better. If she hadn’t still stuck around when she could walk again
and given the guys their powers, forever changing them and linking
them to her. Then we wouldn’t be right here, right now.
If she hadn’t been who she was, then I wouldn’t have fallen for
her and been so utterly and completely lost right now.
Blood dribbled down my wrist, but I barely noticed, I was more
focused on what we were going to do next. Wiping my hand on my
black pants where others were less likely to notice the blood, I made
my way back to our shelter.
Jonah, Adam, and Lincoln were huddled on the floor around
some papers. I walked around them and sat down, making myself a
spot so I could see and be part of the planning.
“Everything go alright?” Adam asked, looking at my hand.
I grunted, not intending to give any further response to that
question. He should have known me well enough to be able to tell
the truth of it anyway. “So what do we have here?”
He turned back to their pile of papers on the floor and began to
explain, adding in sign language for Jonah. “This is everything
Jonathon and Cerise could scrounge together. Maura and Ethan are
searching some of the other shelters.” He swallowed to fight a lump
forming in his throat. “Especially those who no longer have
occupants, so we’ll see if they can come up with any more.”
“And the others?” I questioned.
“Mal, Michael, and Anaya are out searching and scavenging, like
everyone else.”
“Not everyone is searching.” My voice was low and doubtful.
“No,” Lincoln chimed in. “Not everyone is searching. This town
can’t continue to support the survivors without making sure there’s
still incoming food.”
“There’s less people to eat the food now, so it’ll last longer.” My
overgrown fingernails dug into my palms as my fists clenched in
frustration. I did my best not to let anyone know exactly how much
her disappearance was bothering me, but it was impossible to hide it
from these guys. They knew me better than anyone, and they knew
that if I got my hands on the people who had given up on her, they
wouldn’t last long enough to enjoy the food they were out there
collecting right now. Which was probably why they wouldn’t tell me
who was scavenging and not bothering to search.
Jonah passed a map over to me and I forced my hands to
unclench so I could grab it. The map was color coded, with most of
it being blue.
“The blue shows the areas that have been checked,” Adam
explained. “I’ve been marking them off after we’ve searched them.”
He then produced another map where a lot of the areas were
colored in pink. “The pink here shows where others have searched.”
“Why mark them separately?” I inquired.
“While I trust a lot of the people here and everything, you never
know if there’s still another traitor hiding out like there was before.
Plus, I think we would have a better shot at noticing signs of an area
she’s been in. We know her better than anyone else. Like, while
others would overlook a scrap of fabric, we may zero in on it as
though it were the most obvious thing in the world. I just wanted to
keep separate accounts of where they’ve looked and where we’ve
looked.”
 I nodded. That was a smart idea. He trusted more people than I
did, so if he wanted to keep separate records, then I’d go with it.
“So what’s the plan for right now?” I was itching to get back out
there. Every moment not spent searching felt like a moment wasted,
and the farther away she could be from us. If I was awake, then I
should be actively searching. I shouldn’t have even bothered to
come back until I’d found her.
“Now, we go and search the next area.” Adam stood up,
readjusting the holster at his hip, a gleam of determination in his
eyes. I liked that answer.
 2

Blyss

T he warmed metal underneath my forearm greeted me when I

came back to consciousness, but the constricting band around
my wrists shot down every hope that this could have all been a bad
dream.
No. This was not another nightmare I could wake up from. It was
already bad enough the nightmares still visited when I was sleeping.
Now I had to deal with ones I couldn’t wake up from.
I remained still, not opening my eyes or making noise. I kept my
breathing shallow, pretending to still be asleep. Instead, I listened.
There were people whispering together not too far away, probably
off in a corner of the room. At least, they sounded far enough away
to lower the chance I might be able to eavesdrop.
One of the voices grated against my skin, even in its low tone.
That one belonged to Mama G. It wasn’t that she had a bad voice,
but rather the memories that entered my mind when I heard it. I
shuddered as the unwelcomed memories entered my head despite
my resistance.
I heard a shushing sound and then silence. Curious, I cracked my
eyes open, but then they flew wide open when I saw Mama G sitting
in a chair looking straight at me.
“About time,” she snapped, a tinge of annoyance in her voice.
 “I’m sorry I kept you waiting after you tied me up and knocked
me unconscious. How selfish of me.” My voice was scratchy as my
throat was still parched. I didn’t know what they did to me while I
was unconscious, but most of the time I woke up incredibly thirsty.
“I accept your apology.”
I rolled my eyes and looked around, but we were the only two in
the room for as far as I could see. She stood up and held a bottle of
water to my mouth with a straw sticking out. I knew if I didn’t
rehydrate some, they would do it by force, and I’d already learned
the hard way that was quite the unpleasant experience. I managed
to get down a few quick gulps before she took it back, slammed the
bottle onto the table, then took her seat in the chair again. Crossing
her ankles off to the side, she smoothed out a wrinkle on her blouse
and then looked at me to continue, as though we were having some
non fucked-up mother and daughter conversation on a casual sunny
day.
“So, are you going to tell me what you’re doing here?” I wasn’t in
the mood for games. Least of all hers. I was more in the mood for
some ass kicking, but she’d have to wait until I was uncuffed.
“Yes.” Her hands smoothed her skirt before she clasped them
together to rest in her lap once more. Her chin was high and her
back straight. She looked as though this was another normal day at
work and she was waiting for an important meeting to start.
“I am well aware of Black Moon Corporation and all that goes on
within. I have been ever since I was a young intern.”
My head raised the last few inches at her words. “Intern?”
“Years ago. One day I found some documents I wasn’t supposed
to, and then suddenly my time with them was up. No pay, no job
offer.” Her lips pursed at the unpleasant memory. “They refused to
talk to me, saying everything was confidential and reminding me
about the non-disclosure agreement I had signed. Then one day I
got a message from Dr. Crane, telling me about how his greatest
invention was stolen.”
“Invention?” I repeated, my voice growing hoarse with the lack
of hydration.
 Her beady eyes stared at me. “Of course.” She cleared her
throat. “He made me a deal. If I could help him find this invention, I
would get a share of it. Considering how the company had thrown
me out as they did, I wanted nothing more than to take part in their
biggest secret without them even knowing about it.”
I reeled back. She was talking as though I were an object. She
treated me less than human for as long as I’d known her, but this
was on a whole different level.
“Why would he call you though? You, being a fired intern, and
him being a top scientist?”
She grinned. “Being on the outside made it easier for me to help.
The company sent out people to search, but they all failed. I was the
backup and if I were to find the invention, then we could keep it low
key. While everyone worked toward one common goal, not all of
his...methods...were approved of.” She paused for a moment and
her eyes softened a fraction as they unfocused. “Besides, during my
first time here we’d formed a bond.”
Bile began to rise to my throat as she continued.
“I knew what the invention would be able to do. It could heal
itself from harm.”
“So you tested that on your foster kids, trying to see which one
could heal from your injuries?”
She smiled, showing some of her pearly white teeth. “Precisely. I
knew the ability hadn’t fully developed yet, but it was certainly on its
way. It just needed some nudging.”
“You had no idea it was me though?”
“Not necessarily. I thought the odds of finding this thing in a
foster home was high, because where else was best to hide
something like that other than in plain sight? But with you…
something was different. I couldn’t figure it out. So imagine my
surprise when I found out you were hiding under my nose all this
time.”
“First of all, I am not a thing. I am not an it. I am most certainly
not a fucking invention. I am Blyss, and I am going to kick your ass
when I get out of these restraints.” My blood began to boil, but then
as quickly as it heated up, it started to cool again. I glared at her,
thinking of all the ways I would happily kick her ass the first chance
I got.
Her smile widened, which only enraged me more. I belted out a
loud scream, long and drawn out. I screamed as loud as I could,
refusing to let it go to take a breath. I released all my frustrations
and agony until all that was left were tears. The only thing that kept
me going during all those years growing up was knowing that if I
held on until I was eighteen years old, that I would be free. And now
here I was, strapped to a metal chair at the mercy of Mama G in
fucking Portugal. I even had magical powers, yet I still somehow
couldn’t seem to use them. Whatever they’d done to me, my body
didn’t seem to know how to fight back. I so badly wanted out. To
even create whatever the hell it was I did during the battle in the
Salvaged Lands where it got rid of all the enemies, but I didn’t know
how to unleash it. I couldn’t even feel the vague static that always
seemed to be hanging out underneath my skin.
I was empty, and every day they bent me a little more.
They wouldn’t fully break me though. I had already been broken
beyond repair and I still managed to find the glue to stick my pieces
back together.
“I understand it can be a lot to take in,” she remarked,
completely unfazed at my outburst. “But you’re going to do great
things.”
I glared at her, refusing to give her any more of my words. She
didn’t deserve them.
“Not speaking to me, I see.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw
her stand up and smooth the sides of her skirt with her palms,
because magic forbid she ever had a wrinkle in her clothing when
nobody was looking. “That’s okay. There’s always ways to get you to
talk when needed.”
Without another word, she turned, opened the bar door, and
walked out of the room. Then Dr. Crazy walked in, nodding to her as
they passed. He took a seat at the computer near me and tilted his
head forward to look at me over his glasses.
“How are you feeling? Anything different?”
I remained silent.
 “This would be much easier if you were to cooperate.”
I said nothing.
He sighed, pushed his glasses up with his index finger, and
stood. Grabbing the chain between my cuffs, he pressed a button
and the bands around my arms disappeared. “Get up. Time to head
back to your room. I’ll send for you when you’re needed again.”
I stood. Wanting to take advantage of being out of the confining
chair, I tried to kick my leg out, but it didn’t move. My limbs were
like jelly if I tried to do anything but stand. “What did you do to
me?” I mumbled.
He smiled. “Trying to fight me, huh? The serum currently flowing
through you makes you compliant for a certain amount of time. You
can’t do anything but sit, stand, and walk for a while. Don’t worry,
though, you can go sleep it off in your room. Maybe it’ll have worn
off by the time you wake up. Or maybe it’ll never wear off. Either
way, there’s always more where it came from.”
“Dumbass,” I muttered, and began to walk, the only thing I
seemed to be able to do. At least I got an insult out to him.
“What was that?”
“I called you a dumbass,” I responded as I walked by. A smile
pulled at my lips, pleased with myself. I couldn’t use my body to
fight my way out at the moment, but at least my mouth still worked
at times.

M y body might have been trapped in this lab, but my mind couldn’t
stop thinking about the people I’d left behind. Would they be mad at
me, thinking I’d abandoned them after that tragedy? Would they
even know I’d been taken from them? I didn’t know how it would
happen yet, but I’d get out of here. I only hoped they didn’t think I
left them of my own free will. I didn’t think I could take it if I were
to go back only to find they’d already moved on without me, maybe
even found someone else, and would possibly be pissed at my
return. I couldn’t let the what-ifs weigh me down though. Of course
they wouldn’t give up on me, just as I would never give up on any of
them.
I remained lying on the cot day after day, watching the sun and
the moon take turns in the sky. First, days passed, and then weeks.
I lost track of time, but I wasn’t sure I even wanted to know how
much time had gone by.
The only reason I ate anything that was given to me through the
small flap in the glass wall was because the only way I’d be able to
fight my way out later was if I had the energy to do so.
I was drifting off to sleep after another agonizingly long day,
counting the speckles in the ceiling, when a light tapping on the
glass wall startled me back into consciousness. Fear of what they
wanted me for made me hesitant, but the eagerness at the
possibility that I’d be back outside this cell had me turning my head
to see what they wanted. The sight that greeted me chilled my veins
and made my head spin.
Blinking a few times did nothing to change what I saw on the
other side. Shoulder-length blonde hair framed pale, identical faces
and blue eyes that widened when they saw me. Faces that I knew
stared back at me, faces I didn’t think I’d ever see again.
Faces that belonged to the twins, the last of my foster siblings.
With energy I didn’t realize I had, I bolted upright, nearly
ramming my knees into my chin in the process, and stood on
hesitant feet. My shaky legs that hadn’t been used much in the last
few days carried me over to the front of the space. Their heads
came up to the middle of my chest, they were still young and
growing. They should have been about ten years old now.
The intercom was silent, the ability to turn it on was available
only on the other side, and only with an employee key card. Lifting
my hand, I pressed my palm against the glass, warm to my touch in
this temperature controlled room.
They each raised a hand and set it on the glass. Mine slid down
until I was hunched on the balls of my feet, my hand level with
theirs. Tears threatened to well in the corners of my eyes, but I
blinked them back. Tears made them blurry, and I wanted to make
sure I could see them clearly, because this moment was too good to
be true.
They were real. And they were really here.

Adam

“F uck !” I yelled, tossing the hammer off to the side and shoving my
throbbing thumb into my mouth. We’d been working like crazy to get
this plane up and running. How a plane this large had remained
untouched for so long was a mystery. My guess was someone tried
to escape the outbreak at the nearest airport and didn’t get too far.
Anyone within must have survived somewhat, because there weren’t
any rotters or dead bodies inside by the time we’d found it.
In between searching for Skittle, looking at maps, and following
up with others in the town who’d gone out searching or scavenging,
working on fixing up this plane had taken up every free moment I
had.
Nobody wanted to acknowledge the fact that we’d been
searching for over two weeks now and there was still no sign of her.
Even Jonah had gone into the water and spent a full day there, but
turned up empty-handed. She wouldn’t have just left us like that.
Sure, she did once before, but there was a reason for that, and
she pretty much let us know she was leaving when she’d stormed
out right in front of us. This time, though, there was no reason. She
had to have been taken. And if she wasn’t anywhere nearby, at least
not anywhere within a twenty-mile radius, then chances were she
was taken somewhere farther away.
We knew there were labs all over the world. If she wasn’t taken
by scavers or reclaimed, then she was taken by someone having to
do with those labs, and they could have taken her to any one of
them. We only knew the locations of two, but with Mal’s and
Michael’s help, we could hopefully locate more quickly. The problem
was, they weren’t granted access to all the locations when they were
working for them. They knew of general locations, like states or
countries, but that was nearly every state and country. She could
literally be anywhere in the world.
Cars have proven to be a great means of transportation for a
while now, but a plane would allow us to go anywhere in the world,
and much faster. We could cover more ground, travel to other areas
at a quicker pace. We’d never give up, and I only hoped she would
never give up either.
The throbbing in my thumb lessened and I pulled it from my
mouth. It was red, but there was no time for a break. It could heal
as I worked.
I subconsciously flinched at the thought of healing when my girl
was missing, but I ignored it and walked over to pick up the hammer
and a few more tools, then got back to work on the plane. I’d
successfully repaired the wing and was working on the engine when
a creaking noise distracted me and I emerged from the plane.
Lincoln was walking up, or more like limping. He seemed to be
favoring his good leg over the other even more than he did before,
since his prosthetic had been bothering him. I wished he’d let me
look at it, but the guy was stubborn and refused to admit there
might be anything wrong.
“You okay?” I asked, knowing I wouldn’t get a straight answer,
but of course I was still going to ask anyway in hopes he would
someday let down his wall of stubbornness and allow somebody to
help him.
He grunted and sat down on a large stone. “How’s it coming
along?”
I sighed. “I keep running into problems, but it’s coming along.
Two steps forward, one step back.”
He nodded. “Better than the other way around. Maura and Ethan
won’t be with us on our search later. They’re staying in to listen to
radio frequencies to see if they can pick up anything about her. If
anyone’s talking, or if she can somehow get a message to us, they
want to make sure not to miss it.”
“Did you see Jonah at all? I couldn’t find him this morning before
I came out here. I thought he was going to come with me.”
 He hesitated, and I braced myself for the answer. “He’s taken it
pretty hard.”
“She didn’t leave him, though, she was taken.”
“I know that, the rest of us know that. He knows that too, but I
don’t know if that’s any better or not.”
I sighed, turning back to what I was working on. “I could use
your fire power over here. Not a lot, only enough to weld this
together.”
“Sure thing.” He walked over to me and held out his hand. When
I pointed to the object I was talking about, he moved closer and
produced only enough fire to fuse the objects I needed, then he
stepped back again. “Mateo should be here soon, he was going to
find Jonah and then pick us up so we could search the next section.”
“Has anybody heard anything from the reclaimed?” I inquired.
He shook his head. “They haven’t attacked us since that one day.
Michael and a few others overran their locations that they knew
about, but found no sign of B. I think they scared them off. They
haven’t come near the Salvaged Lands since.”
“What about scavers, has anyone run into them at all?” My fist
clenched around the screwdriver I’d picked up, and I tightened some
screws even though they didn’t need tightening and I really didn’t
need the screwdriver at all right now. I just needed to do something
that would make me feel as though I was helping in some way, even
if I wasn’t.
“Not that I know of. The ones that made it out, I don’t think they
would have taken her and ran. They would have come out for more
of a fight instead,” Lincoln reasoned, and I had to agree with him.
“They may be idiots, but they’re not cowards.”
My knuckles were turning white, the frustration of being stuck
here without any leads to help find her was getting to me. After a
few deep breaths, I reached for the toolbox and got back to work.
 3

Blyss

I couldn’t stop staring at the glass. It was streaked with blood and
sweat from the time I’d spent pounding on it to get to the other
side. It was proof that what I saw was real. My twin foster sisters
were here in this horrible place with me. After the outbreak, I’d
accepted that I might never see my foster family again, but one by
one they all reentered my life. And when they did, I couldn’t just let
them walk right back out again. I had to get them out of this place
with me. Did they even have any idea what kind of place this was?
I was still trying to come to terms with the surprise reunions. I
was so relieved to find Maura and Jakobe and know they were okay.
Maura wasn’t doing so well when we found her, but now she was
thriving. Jakobe had somehow ended up safe, protected by others.
The weird thing was he had spent months surviving on his own and
with other people. Unlike our years with Mama G, I didn’t need to
look out for him quite as much. That still didn’t change how badly I
wanted to get back and scoop him up into my arms, regardless of
whether or not he needed me to protect him or not.
While I hated Mama G for everything she ever did, I couldn’t help
but be glad that I was taken, because otherwise I would have never
found Rae and Tay. They would have continued to be raised by her,
learning her horrible ideals firsthand. Now, I could get them out and
we could run. I had no idea where to run to, because we were
apparently separated from the others with an entire ocean between
us, but we’d go as far as our feet could take us.
Somehow, we’d get back to the Salvaged Lands, and hopefully
keep Mama G and her crew off our tails in the meantime.
The feeling of something trickling down my palm pulled me out
of my thoughts, and I looked down. Blood was trailing from my hand
and spattering against the white tiled floor of my cell from where my
fist was clenched so hard my jagged and untrimmed nails were
digging into my palm.
Taking a deep breath, I relaxed my fingers, pulling the nails from
deep within the skin. Half moon marks remained embedded in my
palm, but that didn’t bother me.
Sighing, I moved off the bed and walked over to the sink. The
water was cold, taking forever to warm up, but I welcomed the
numbness it brought. I watched as the water mixed with my blood,
then as the pink liquid disappeared down the drain, until my palm
stopped bleeding. Then, I did the most reasonable thing and
punched the glass wall before me. I couldn’t even feel it with my
newly numbed fingers that finally matched the rest of me on the
inside.
My fingers were mangled, the reinforced glass much stronger
than my bones. Where I should have felt pain, I felt nothing. I was
even more numb on the inside, missing all the things in my life that
brought me joy.
All the people. All the experiences I could be having if it weren’t
for the fact that I was a freak of humanity and hunted by those who
created me as a lab experiment.
Gritting my teeth, I pulled my hand away from the wall and
watched as the bones moved underneath my skin as they shifted
themselves back into place. It was then that I had a daunting
realization—where I would normally feel pain, cry out from it even,
and watch an eternity pass within a few moments as it slowly
receded, I didn’t have that.
I thought I was going numb on the inside, having been ripped
away from the best life I’d ever had. Trying to survive each day until
the moment when an opportunity for a successful escape would
present itself.
But where I should have at least felt something from bones
breaking, or even from the sharp glass digging into my skin, there
was nothing.
My mind raced over the few times I’d been taken out of this
room since my arrival. I laughed, one single chuckle echoing off the
empty walls in the stark silence. ‘Arrival’ made it sound as though I
came here of my own accord rather than being forced. No.
‘Abduction’ was more like it.
I wasn’t always brought to the same room. Each time there was
a stiff metal chair or a cold metal table. Every one of those rooms
had blinding lights above me. Sometimes I could see the entire
room, but other times when they would shine the lights directly at
me, so I couldn’t even see the face of the one standing in front of
me. I could only tell the difference in how they each smelled.
The crazy doctor always reeked of B.O. If he ever showered,
then it was never before taking me out of here. Mama G still smelled
of yew, she liked that air freshener from years ago and must have
still kept it around, even now. I didn’t understand why, as it was a
horrible fragrance. Every time I smelled it, I thought of her.
Sometimes there were different scents I couldn’t place, but I was
so focused on getting out of that chair or table alive that I never
thought too much on it at the time.
What were these monsters doing to me?
My head snapped around when I heard a click on the intercom.
Mama G was standing in front of the glass, the hallway lights
illuminating her crooked nose.
“Put the cuffs on and come with me.”
I stalked up to the front of the room, my eyes never leaving her
beady gaze. “What have you done with them?”
She cocked her head to the side. “With what?”
“The twins. I know they’re here, I saw them.”
A faint smile tilted the corners of her mouth. “If you would have
answered the phone when I tried to call you in the beginning of the
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
we know that seven years later the vicar of Garde married a girl in
the east villages to a young Icelander.
Meanwhile, in plague-stricken England, Bristol, our biggest
seaport, had not enough men living even to bury the dead, and labor
was so scarce that the crops rotted for lack of harvesters. That is
why an English squadron raided Iceland, Greenland, perhaps even
Vinland, for slaves, and the people were carried away into captivity.
Afterward England paid compensation to Denmark and returned the
folk to their homes, but in 1448 the pope wrote to a Norse bishop
concerning their piteous condition. And there the story ends, for in
that year the German merchants at Bergen in Norway squabbled
with the forty master mariners of the American trade. The sailors had
boycotted their Hanseatic League, so the Germans asked them to
dinner, and murdered them. From that time no man knew the way to
lost America.
 II
A. D. 1248
THE CRUSADERS

IN the seventh century of the reign of Our Lord Christ, arose the
Prophet Mahomet. To his followers he generously gave Heaven, and
as much of the earth as they could get, so the true believers made
haste to occupy goodly and fruitful possessions of Christian powers,
including the Holy Land. The owners were useful as slaves.
Not having been consulted in this matter, the Christians took
offense, making war upon Islam in seven warm campaigns, wherein
they held and lost by turns the holy sepulcher, so that the country
where our Lord taught peace, was always drenched with blood. In
the end, our crusades were not a success.
About Saint Louis and the sixth crusade:
At the opening of the story, that holy but delightful king of France
lay so near death that his two lady nurses had a squabble, the one
pulling a cloth over his face because he was dead, while the other
snatched it away because he was still alive. At last he sent the pair
of them to fetch the cross, on which he vowed to deliver the Holy
Land. Then he had to get well, so he did, sending word to his barons
to roll up their men for war.
Among the nobles was the young Lord of Joinville, seneschal of
Champagne—a merry little man with eight hundred pounds a year of
his own. But then, what with an expensive mother, his wife, and
some little worries, he had to pawn his lands before he could take
the field with his two knights-banneret, nine knights, their men-at-
arms, and the servants. He shared with another lord the hire of a
ship from Marseilles, but when they joined his majesty in Cyprus he
had only a few pounds left, and the knights would have deserted but
that the king gave him a staff appointment at eight hundred pounds a
year.
The king was a holy saint, a glorious knight errant, full of fun, but
a thoroughly incompetent general. Instead of taking Jerusalem by
surprise, he must needs raid Egypt, giving the soldan of Babylon the
Less (Cairo) plenty of time to arrange a warm reception. The rival
armies had a battle on the beach, after which Saint Louis sat down in
front of Damietta, where he found time to muddle his commissariat.
On the other hand, the soldan was not at all well, having been
poisoned by a rival prince, and paid no heed to the carrier pigeons
with their despairing messages from the front. This discouraged the
Moslems, who abandoned Damietta and fled inland, hotly pursued
by the French. As a precaution, however, they sent round their ships,
which collected the French supplies proceeding to the front. The
Christians had plenty of fighting and a deal of starving to do, not to
mention pestilence in their ill-managed camps. So they came to a
canal which had to be bridged, but the artful paynim cut away the
land in front of the bridge head, so that there was no ground on
which the French could arrive. In the end the Christians had to swim
and, as they were heavily armored, many were drowned in the mud.
Joinville’s party found a dry crossing up-stream, and their troubles
began at the enemy’s camp whence the Turks were flying.
“While we were driving them through their camp, I perceived a
Saracen who was mounting his horse, one of his knights holding the
bridle. At the moment he had his two hands on the saddle to mount, I
gave him of my lance under the armpit, and laid him dead. When his
knight saw that, he left his lord and the horse, and struck me with his
lance as I passed, between the two shoulders, holding me so
pressed down that I could not draw the sword at my belt. I had,
therefore, to draw the sword attached to my horse, and when he saw
that he withdrew his lance and left me.”
Here in the camp Joinville’s detachment was rushed by six
thousand Turks, “who pressed upon me with their lances. My horse
knelt under the weight, and I fell forward over the horse’s ears. I got
up as soon as ever I could with my shield at my neck, and my sword
in my hand.
“Again a great rout of Turks came rushing upon us, and bore me
to the ground and went over me, and caused my shield to fly from
my neck.”
So the little party gained the wall of a ruined house, where they
were sorely beset: Lord Hugh, of Ecot, with three lance wounds in
the face, Lord Frederick, of Loupey, with a lance wound between the
shoulders, so large that the blood flowed from his body as from the
bung hole of a cask, and my Lord of Sivery with a sword-stroke in
the face, so that his nose fell over his lips. Joinville, too badly
wounded to fight, was holding horses, while Turks who had climbed
to the roof were prodding from above with their lances. Then came
Anjou to the rescue, and presently the king with his main army. The
fight became a general engagement, while slowly the Christian force
was driven backward upon the river. The day had become very hot,
and the stream was covered with lances and shields, and with
horses and men drowning and perishing.
Near by De Joinville’s position, a streamlet entered the river, and
across that ran a bridge by which the Turks attempted to cut the
king’s retreat. This bridge the little hero, well mounted now, held for
hours, covering the flight of French detachments. At the head of one
such party rode Count Peter, of Brittany, spitting the blood from his
mouth and shouting “Ha! by God’s head, have you ever seen such
riffraff?”
“In front of us were two of the king’s sergeants; ... and the Turks
... brought a large number of churls afoot, who pelted them with
lumps of earth, but were never able to force them back upon us. At
last they brought a churl on foot, who thrice threw Greek fire at them.
Once William of Boon received the pot of Greek fire on his target, for
if the fire had caught any of his garments he must have been burnt
alive. We were all covered with the darts that failed to hit the
sergeants. Now, it chanced that I found a Saracen’s quilted tunic
lined with tow; I turned the open side towards me, and made a shield
... which did me good service, for I was only wounded by their darts
in five places, and my horse in fifteen.... The good Count of
Soissons, in that point of danger, jested with me and said,
“‘Seneschal, let these curs howl! By God’s bonnet we shall talk
of this day yet, you and I, in ladies’ chambers!’”
So came the constable of France, who relieved Joinville and
sent him to guard the king.
“So as soon as I came to the king, I made him take off his
helmet, and lent him my steel cap so that he might have air.”
Presently a knight brought news that the Count of Artois, the
king’s brother, was in paradise.
“Ah, Sire,” said the provost, “be of good comfort herein, for never
did king of France gain so much honor as you have gained this day.
For in order to fight your enemies you have passed over a river
swimming, and you have discomfited them and driven them from the
field, and taken their engines, and also their tents wherein you will
sleep this night.”
And the king replied: “Let God be worshiped for all He has given
me,” and then the big tears fell from his eyes.
That night the captured camp was attacked in force, much to the
grief of De Joinville and his knights, who ruefully put on chain mail
over their aching wounds. Before they were dressed De Joinville’s
chaplain engaged eight Saracens and put them all to flight.
Three days later came a general attack of the whole Saracen
army upon the Christian camp, but thanks to the troops of Count
William, of Flanders, De Joinville and his wounded knights were not
in the thick of the fray.
“Wherein,” he says, “God showed us great courtesy, for neither I
nor my knights had our hawberks (chain shirts) and shields, because
we had all been wounded.”
You see De Joinville had the sweet faith that his God was a
gentleman.
 After that the sorrowful army lay nine days in camp till the bodies
of the dead floated to the surface of the canal, and eight days more
while a hundred hired vagabonds cleared the stream. But the army
lived on eels and water from that canal, while all of them sickened of
scurvy, and hundreds died. Under the hands of the surgeons the
men of that dying army cried like women. Then came an attempt to
retreat in ships to the coast, but the way was blocked, the little
galleys were captured one by one, the king was taken, and what
then remained of the host were prisoners, the sick put to death, the
rich held for ransom, the poor sold away into slavery.
Saint Louis appeared to be dying of dysentery and scurvy, he
was threatened with torture, but day after day found strength and
courage to bargain with the soldan of Babylon for the ransom of his
people. Once the negotiations broke down because the soldan was
murdered by his own emirs, but the king went on bargaining now
with the murderers. For his own ransom he gave the city of
Damietta, for that of his knights he paid the royal treasure that was
on board a galley in the port, and for the deliverance of the common
men, he had to raise money in France.
So came the release, and the emirs would have been ashamed
to let their captive knights leave the prison fasting. So De Joinville’s
party had “fritters of cheese roasted in the sun so that worms should
not come therein, and hard boiled eggs cooked four or five days
before, and these, in our honor, had been painted with divers colors.”
After that came the counting of the ransom on board the royal
galley, with the dreadful conclusion that they were short of the sum
by thirty thousand livres. De Joinville went off to the galley of the
marshal of the Knights Templars, where he tried to borrow the
money.
“Many were the hard and angry words which passed between
him and me.”
For one thing the borrower, newly released from prison, looked
like a ragged beggar, and for the rest, the treasure of the Templars
was a trust fund not to be lent to any one. They stood in the hold in
front of the chest of treasure, De Joinville demanding the key, then
threatening with an ax to make of it the king’s key.
“We see right well,” said the treasurer, “that you are using force
against us.” And on that excuse yielded the key to the ragged
beggar, tottering with weakness, a very specter of disease and
famine.
“I threw out the silver I found therein and went, and sat on the
prow of our little vessel that had brought me. And I took the marshal
of France and left him with the silver in the Templars’ galley and on
the galley I put the minister of the Trinity. On the galley the marshal
handed the silver to the minister, and the minister gave it over to me
on the little vessel where I sat. When we had ended and came
towards the king’s galley, I began to shout to the king.
“‘Sire! Sire! see how well I am furnished!’
“And the saintly man received me right willingly and right
joyfully.”
So the ransom was completed, the king’s ransom and that of the
greatest nobles of France, this group of starving ragged beggars in a
dingey.
Years followed of hard campaigning in Palestine. Once Saint
Louis was even invited by the soldan of Damascus to visit as a
pilgrim that Holy City which he could never enter as a conqueror. But
Saint Louis and his knights were reminded of a story about Richard
the Lion-Hearted, king of England. For Richard once marched almost
within sight of the capital so that a knight cried out to him:
“Sire, come so far hither, and I will show you Jerusalem!”
But the Duke of Burgundy had just deserted with half the
crusading army, lest it be said that the English had taken Jerusalem.
So when Richard heard the knight calling he threw his coat armor
before his eyes, all in tears, and said to our Savior,
“Fair Lord God, I pray Thee suffer me not to see Thy Holy City
since I can not deliver it from the hands of thine enemies.”
 King Louis the Saint followed the example of King Richard the
Hero, and both left Palestine broken-hearted because they had not
the strength to take Jerusalem.
Very queer is the tale of the queen’s arrival from France.
“When I heard tell that she was come,” said De Joinville, “I rose
from before the king and went to meet her, and led her to the castle,
and when I came back to the king, who was in his chapel, he asked
me if the queen and his children were well; and I told him yes. And
he said, ‘I knew when you rose from before me that you were going
to meet the queen, and so I have caused the sermon to wait for you.’
And these things I tell you,” adds De Joinville, “because I had then
been five years with the king, and never before had he spoken to
me, nor so far as ever I heard, to any one else, of the queen, and of
his children; and so it appears to me, it was not seemly to be thus a
stranger to one’s wife and children.”
To do the dear knight justice, he was always brutally frank to the
king’s face, however much he loved him behind his back.
The return of the king and queen to France was full of adventure,
and De Joinville still had an appetite for such little troubles as a
wreck and a sea fight. Here is a really nice story of an accident.
“One of the queen’s bedwomen, when she had put the queen to
bed, was heedless, and taking the kerchief that had been wound
about her head, threw it into the iron stove on which the queen’s
candle was burning, and when she had gone into the cabin where
the women slept, below the queen’s chamber, the candle burnt on,
till the kerchief caught fire, and from the kerchief the fire passed to
the cloths with which the queen’s garments were covered. When the
queen awoke she saw her cabin all in flames, and jumped up quite
naked and took the kerchief and threw it all burning into the sea, and
took the cloths and extinguished them. Those who were in the barge
behind the ship cried, but not very loud, ‘Fire! fire!’ I lifted up my
head and saw that the kerchief still burned with a clear flame on the
sea, which was very still.
 “I put on my tunic as quickly as I could, and went and sat with
the mariners.
“While I sat there my squire, who slept before me, came to me
and said that the king was awake, and asked where I was. ‘And I told
him,’ said he, ‘that you were in your cabin; and the king said to me,
“Thou liest!”’ While we were thus speaking, behold the queen’s clerk
appeared, Master Geoffrey, and said to me, ‘Be not afraid, nothing
has happened.’ And I said, ‘Master Geoffrey, go and tell the queen
that the king is awake, and she should go to him, and set his mind at
ease.’
“On the following day the constable of France, and my Lord
Peter the chamberlain, and my Lord Gervais, the master of the
pantry, said to the king, ‘What happened in the night that we heard
mention of fire?’ and I said not a word. Then said the king, ‘What
happened was by mischance, and the seneschal (De Joinville) is
more reticent than I. Now I will tell you,’ said he, ‘how it came about
that we might all have been burned this night,’ and he told them what
had befallen, and said to me, ‘I command you henceforth not to go to
rest until you have put out all fires, except the great fire that is in the
hold of the ship.’ (Cooking fire on the ship’s ballast). ‘And take note
that I shall not go to rest till you come back to me.’”
It is pleasant to think of the queen’s pluck, the knight’s silence,
the king’s tact, and to see the inner privacies of that ancient ship.
After seven hundred years the gossip is fresh and vivid as this
morning’s news.
The king brought peace, prosperity and content to all his
kingdom, and De Joinville was very angry when in failing health
Saint Louis was persuaded to attempt another crusade in Africa.
“So great was his weakness that he suffered me to carry him in
my arms from the mansion of the Count of Auxerre to the abbey of
the Franciscans.”
So went the king to his death in Tunis, a bungling soldier, but a
saint on a throne, the noblest of all adventurers, the greatest
sovereign France has ever known.
 Long afterward the king came in a dream to see De Joinville:
“Marvelously joyous and glad of heart, and I myself was right glad to
see him in my castle. And I said to him, ‘Sire, when you go hence, I
will lodge you in a house of mine, that is in a city of mine, called
Chevillon.’ And he answered me laughing, and said to me, ‘Lord of
Joinville, by the faith I owe you, I have no wish so soon to go
hence.’”
It was at the age of eighty-five De Joinville wrote his memoirs,
still blithe as a boy because he was not grown up.

Note. From Memoirs of the Crusaders, by Villehardouine

and De Joinville. Dent & Co.
 III
A. D. 1260
THE MIDDLE AGES IN ASIA

THE year 1260 found Saint Louis of France busy reforming his
kingdom, while over the way the English barons were reforming King
Henry III on the eve of the founding of parliament, and the Spaniards
were inventing the bull fight by way of a national sport. Our own
national pastime then was baiting Jews. They got twopence per
week in the pound for the use of their money, but next year one of
them was caught in the act of cheating, a little error which led to the
massacre of seven hundred.
That year the great Khan Kublai came to the throne of the
Mongol Empire, a pastoral realm of the grass lands extending from
the edge of Europe to the Pacific Ocean. Kublai began to build his
capital, the city of Pekin, and in all directions his people extended
their conquests. The looting and burning of Bagdad took them seven
days and the resistless pressure of their hordes was forcing the
Turks upon Europe.
Meanwhile in the dying Christian empire of the East, the Latins
held Constantinople with Beldwin on the throne, but next year the
Greek army led by Michael Paleologus crept through a tunnel and
managed to capture the city.
Among the merchants at Constantinople in 1260 were the two
Polo brothers, Nicolo and Matteo, Venetian nobles, who invested the
whole of their capital in gems, and set off on a trading voyage to the
Crimea. Their business finished, they went on far up the Volga River
to the court of a Mongol prince, and to him they gave the whole of
their gems as a gift, getting a present in return with twice the money.
But now their line of retreat was blocked by a war among the Mongol
princes, so they went off to trade at Bokhara in Persia where they
spent a year. And so it happened that the Polo brothers met with
certain Mongol envoys who were returning to the court of their
Emperor Kublai. “Come with us,” said the envoys. “The great khan
has never seen a European and will be glad to have you as his
guests.” So the Polos traveled under safe conduct with the envoys, a
year’s journey, until they reached the court of the great khan at Pekin
and were received with honor and liberality.
Now it so happened that Kublai sought for himself and his
people the faith of Christ, and wanted the pope to send him a
hundred priests, so he despatched these Italian gentlemen as his
ambassadors to the court of Rome. He gave them a passport
engraved on a slab of gold, commanding his subjects to help the
envoys upon their way with food and horses, and thus, traveling in
state across Asia, the Polos returned from a journey, the greatest
ever made up to that time by any Christian men.
At Venice, Nicolo, the elder of the brothers, found that his wife
had died leaving to him a son, then aged sixteen, young Marco Polo,
a gallant, courageous, hardy lad, it seems, and very truthful, without
the slightest symptoms of any sense of humor.
The schoolboy who defined the Vatican as a great empty space
without air, was perfectly correct, for when the Polos arrived there
was a sort of vacuum in Rome, the pope being dead and no new
appointment made because the electors were squabbling. Two years
the envoys waited, and when at last a new pope was elected, he
proved to be a friend of theirs, the legate Theobald on whom they
waited at the Christian fortress of Acre in Palestine.
But instead of sending a hundred clergymen to convert the
Mongol empire, the new pope had only one priest to spare, who
proved to be a coward, and deserted.
Empty handed, their mission a failure, the Polos went back, a
three and one-half years’ journey to Pekin, taking with them young
Marco Polo, a handsome gallant, who at once found favor with old
Kublai Khan. Marco “sped wondrously in learning the customs of the
Tartars, as well as their language, their manner of writing, and their
practise of war ... insomuch that the emperor held him in great
esteem. And so when he discerned Mark to have so much sense,
and to conduct himself so well and beseemingly, he sent him on an
embassage of his, to a country which was a good six months’
journey distant. The young gallant executed his commission well and
with discretion.” The fact is that Kublai’s ambassadors, returning
from different parts of the world, “were able to tell him nothing except
the business on which they had gone, and that the prince in
consequence held them for no better than dolts and fools.” Mark
brought back plenty of gossip, and was a great success, for
seventeen years being employed by the emperor on all sorts of
missions. “And thus it came about that Messer Marco Polo had
knowledge of or had actually visited a greater number of the different
countries of the world than any other man.”
In the Chinese annals of the Mongol dynasty there is record in
1277 of one Polo nominated a second-class commissioner or agent
attached to the privy council. Marco had become a civil servant, and
his father and uncle were both rich men, but as the years went on,
and the aged emperor began to fail, they feared as to their fate after
his death. Yet when they wanted to go home old Kublai growled at
them.
“Now it came to pass in those days that the Queen Bolgana, wife
of Argon, lord of the Levant (court of Persia), departed this life. And
in her will she had desired that no lady should take her place, or
succeed her as Argon’s wife except one of her own family (in
Cathay). Argon therefore despatched three of his barons ... as
ambassadors to the great khan, attended by a very gallant company,
in order to bring back as his bride a lady of the family of Queen
Bolgana, his late wife.
“When these three barons had reached the court of the great
khan, they delivered their message explaining wherefore they were
come. The khan received them with all honor and hospitality, and
then sent for a lady whose name was Cocachin, who was of the
family of the deceased Queen Bolgana. She was a maiden of
seventeen, a very beautiful and charming person, and on her arrival
at court she was presented to the three barons as the lady chosen in
compliance with their demand. They declared that the lady pleased
them well.
“Meanwhile Messer Marco chanced to return from India, whither
he had gone as the lord’s ambassador, and made his report of all the
different things that he had seen in his travels, and of the sundry
seas over which he had voyaged. And the three barons, having seen
that Messer Nicolo, Messer Matteo and Messer Marco were not only
Latins but men of marvelous good sense withal, took thought among
themselves to get the three to travel to Persia with them, their
intention being to return to their country by sea, on account of the
great fatigue of that long land journey for a lady. So they went to the
great khan, and begged as a favor that he would send the three
Latins with them, as it was their desire to return home by sea.
“The lord, having that great regard that I have mentioned for
those three Latins, was very loath to do so. But at last he did give
them permission to depart, enjoining them to accompany the three
barons and the lady.”
In the fleet that sailed on the two years’ voyage to Persia there
were six hundred persons, not counting mariners; but what with
sickness and little accidents of travel, storms for instance and
sharks, only eight persons arrived, including the lady, one of the
Persian barons, and the three Italians. They found the handsome
King Argon dead, so the lady had to put up with his insignificant son
Casan, who turned out to be a first-rate king. The lady wept sore at
parting with the Italians. They set out for Venice, arriving in 1295
after an absence of twenty-seven years.
There is a legend that two aged men, and one of middle age, in
ragged clothes, of very strange device, came knocking at the door of
the Polo’s town house in Venice, and were denied admission by the
family who did not know them. It was only when the travelers had
unpacked their luggage, and given a banquet, that the family and
their guests began to respect these vagrants. Three times during
dinner the travelers retired to change their gorgeous oriental robes
for others still more splendid. Was it possible that the long dead
Polos had returned alive? Then the tables being cleared, Marco
brought forth the dirty ragged clothes in which they had come to
Venice, and with sharp knives they ripped open the seams and
welts, pouring out vast numbers of rubies, sapphires, carbuncles,
diamonds and emeralds, gems to the value of a million ducats. The
family was entirely convinced, the public nicknamed the travelers as
the millionaires, the city conferred dignities, and the two elder
gentlemen spent their remaining years in peace and splendor
surrounded by hosts of friends.
Three years later a sea battle was fought between the fleets of
Genoa and Venice, and in the Venetian force one of the galleys was
commanded by Marco Polo. There Venice was totally defeated, and
Marco was one of the seven thousand prisoners carried home to
grace the triumph of the Genoese. It was in prison that he met the
young literary person to whom he dictated his book, not of travel, not
of adventure, but a geography, a description of all Asia, its countries,
peoples and wonders. Sometimes he got excited and would draw the
long bow, expanding the numbers of the great khan’s armies.
Sometimes his marvels were such as nobody in his senses could be
expected to swallow, as for instance, when he spoke of the Tartars
as burning black stones to keep them warm in winter. Yet on the
whole this book, of the greatest traveler that ever lived, awakened
Europe of the Dark Ages to the knowledge of that vast outer world
that has mainly become the heritage of the Christian Powers.

See the Book of Sir Marco Polo, translated and edited by

Colonel Sir Henry Yule. John Murray.
 IV
A. D. 1322
THE MARVELOUS ADVENTURES OF SIR
JOHN MAUNDEVILLE

“I, JOHN MAUNDEVILLE, Knight, all be it I am not worthy, that was

born in England, in the town of St. Allans, passed the sea in the year
of our Lord 1322 ... and hitherto have been long time on the sea, and
have seen and gone through many diverse lands ... with good
company of many lords. God be thankful!”
So wrote a very gentle and pious knight. His book of travels
begins with the journey to Constantinople, which in his day was the
seat of a Christian emperor. Beyond was the Saracen empire, whose
sultans reigned in the name of the Prophet Mahomet over Asia
Minor, Syria, the Holy Land and Egypt. For three hundred years
Christian and Saracen had fought for the possession of Jerusalem,
but now the Moslem power was stronger than ever.
Sir John Maundeville found the sultan of Babylon the Less at his
capital city in Egypt, and there entered in his service as a soldier for
wars against the Arab tribes of the desert. The sultan grew to love
this Englishman, talked with him of affairs in Europe, urged him to
turn Moslem, and offered to him the hand of a princess in marriage.
But when Maundeville insisted on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land, his
master let him go, and granted him letters with the great seal, before
which even generals and governors were obliged to prostrate
themselves.
Sir John went all over Palestine, devoutly believing everything he
was told. Here is his story of the Field Beflowered. “For a fair maiden
was blamed with wrong, and slandered ... for which cause she was
condemned to death, and to be burnt in that place, to the which she
was led. And as the fire began to burn about her, she made her
prayers to our Lord, that as certainly as she was not guilty of that sin,
that he would help her, and make it to be known to all men of his
merciful grace. And when she had thus said she entered into the fire,
and anon was the fire quenched and out; and the brands which were
burning became red rose trees, and the brands that were not kindled
became white rose trees full of roses. And these were the first rose
trees and roses, both white and red, which ever any man saw.”
All this part of his book is very beautiful concerning the holy
places, and there are nice bits about incubators for chickens and the
use of carrier pigeons. But it is in the regions beyond the Holy Land
that Sir John’s wonderful power of believing everything that he had
heard makes his chapters more and more exciting.
“In Ethiopia ... there be folk that have but one foot and they go so
fast that it is a marvel. And the foot is so large that it shadoweth all
the body against the sun when they will lie and rest them.”
Beyond that was the isle of Nacumera, where all the people
have hounds’ heads, being reasonable and of good understanding
save that they worship an ox for their god. And they all go naked
save a little clout, and if they take any man in battle anon they eat
him. The dog-headed king of that land is most pious, saying three
hundred prayers by way of grace before meat.
Next he came to Ceylon. “In that land is full much waste, for it is
full of serpents, of dragons and of cockodrills, so that no man may
dwell there.
“In one of these isles be folk as of great stature as giants. And
they be hideous to look upon. And they have but one eye, and that is
in the middle of the forehead. And they eat nothing but raw flesh and
raw fish. And in another isle towards the south dwell folk of foul
stature and of cursed nature that have no heads. And their eyes be
in their shoulders and their mouths be round shapen, like an
horseshoe, amidst their breasts. And in another isle be men without
heads, and their eyes and mouths be behind in their shoulders. And
in another isle be folk that have the face all flat, all plain, without
nose and without mouth. But they have two small holes, all round,
instead of their eyes, and their mouth is flat also without lips. And in
another isle be folk of foul fashion and shape that have the lip above
the mouth so great that when they sleep in the sun they cover all the
face with that lip.”
If Sir John had been untruthful he might have been here tempted
to tell improbable stories, but he merely refers to these isles in
passing with a few texts from the Holy Scriptures to express his
entire disapproval. His chapters on the Chinese empire are a perfect
model of veracity, and he merely cocks on a few noughts to the
statistics. In outlying parts of Cathay he feels once more the need of
a little self-indulgence. One province is covered with total and
everlasting darkness, enlivened by the neighing of unseen horses
and the crowing of mysterious cocks. In the next province he found a
fruit, which, when ripe, is cut open, disclosing “a little beast in flesh
and bone and blood, as though it were a little lamb without wool. And
men eat both the fruit and the beast. And that is a great marvel. Of
that fruit have I eaten, although it were wonderful, but that I know
well that God is marvelous in all his works. And nevertheless I told
them of as great a marvel to them, that is amongst us, and that was
of the barnacle geese: for I told them that in our country were trees
that bear a fruit that become birds flying, and those that fall on the
water live, and they that fall on the earth die anon, and they be right
good to man’s meat, and thereof had they so great marvel that some
of them trowed it were an impossible thing to be.”
This mean doubt as to his veracity must have cut poor
Maundeville to the quick. In his earnest way he goes on to describe
the people who live entirely on the smell of wild apples, to the
Amazon nation consisting solely of women warriors, and so on past
many griffins, popinjays, dragons and other wild fowl to the Adamant
Rocks of loadstone which draw all the iron nails out of a ship to her
great inconvenience. “I myself, have seen afar off in that sea, as
though it had been a great isle full of trees and bush, full of thorns
and briers great plenty. And the shipmen told us that all that was of
ships that were drawn thither by the Adamants, for the iron that was
in them.” Beyond that Sir John reports a sea consisting of gravel,
ebbing and flowing in great waves, but containing no drop of water, a
most awkward place for shipping.
So far is Sir John moderate in his statements, but when he gets
to the Vale Perilous at last he turns himself loose. That vale is
disturbed by thunders and tempests, murmurs and noises, a great
noise of “tabors, drums and trumps.” This vale is all full of devils, and
hath been alway. In that vale is great plenty of gold and silver.
“Wherefore many misbelieving men and many Christian men
also go in oftentime to have of the treasure that there is; but few
come back again, and especially of the misbelieving men, nor of the
Christian men either, for they be anon strangled of devils. And in the
mid place of that vale, under a rock, is an head and the visage of a
devil bodily, full horrible and dreadful to see ... for he beholdeth every
man so sharply with dreadful eyes, that be evermore moving and
sparkling like fire, and changeth and stareth so often in diverse
manner, with so horrible countenance that no man dare draw nigh
towards him. And from him cometh smoke and stink and fire, and so
much abomination, that scarcely any man may there endure.
“And ye shall understand that when my fellows and I were in that
vale we were in great thought whether we durst put our bodies in
adventure to go in or not.... So there were with us two worthy men,
friars minors, that were of Lombardy, that said that if any man would
enter they would go in with us. And when they had said so upon the
gracious trust of God and of them, we made sing mass, and made
every man to be shriven and houseled. And then we entered
fourteen persons; but at our going out we were only nine.... And thus
we passed that perilous vale, and found therein gold and silver and
precious stones, and rich jewels great plenty ... but whether it was as
it seemed to us I wot never. For I touched none.... For I was more
devout then, than ever I was before or after, and all for the dread of
fiends, that I saw in diverse figures, and also for the great multitude
of dead bodies, that I saw there lying by the way ... and therefore
were we more devout a great deal, and yet we were cast down and
beaten many times to the hard earth by winds, thunder and tempests
... and so we passed that perilous vale.... Thanked be Almighty God!
 “After this beyond the vale is a great isle where the folk be great
giants ... and in an isle beyond that were giants of greater stature,
some of forty-five foot or fifty foot long, and as some men say of fifty
cubits long. But I saw none of these, for I had no lust to go to those
parts, because no man cometh neither into that isle nor into the other
but he be devoured anon. And among these giants be sheep as
great as oxen here, and they bear great wool and rough. Of the
sheep I have seen many times ... those giants take men in the sea
out of their ships and bring them to land, two in one hand and two in
another, eating them going, all raw and all alive.
“Of paradise can not I speak properly, for I was not there. It is far
beyond. And that grieveth me. And also I was not worthy.”
So, regretting that he had not been allowed into paradise, the
hoary old liar came homeward to Rome, where he claims that the
pope absolved him of all his sins, and gave him a certificate that his
book was proved for true in every particular, “albeit that many men
list not to give credence to anything but to that that they have seen
with their eye, be the author or the person never so true.” Yet,
despite these unkind doubts as to its veracity, Maundeville’s book
lives after five hundred years, and ranks as the most stupendous
masterpiece in the art of lying.