~ The Triumvirate ~
by Calliopenjo
Conclusion
The next day was the day they would be leaving to go back to their houses here in America, rest up a bit, and wait for something to happen. Patrick knocked on Alarica's door to deliver a message, stating that a car would be waiting for her when she was ready to leave. More would be explained upon arrival. No signature, no name, nothing to say who the message was from. Patrick suggested that he hold their luggage until they were ready to leave, to make their departure a smooth one, instructing how to check out of the hotel via the hotel's television.
As promised, Patrick was downstairs inside the lobby ready with their luggage so it could be loaded into the vehicle that was waiting for them. Two men in stiff black suits, white shirt, black tie, and matching black shoes stepped out of the vehicle to load their luggage and to usher them into the vehicle. Nothing was said, only gestures, with a silent understanding of a temporary truce. The children were understandably scared, with the adults just as scared. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, they arrived to their destination, a private residence high on the hilltop of a lush, large acreage plot of land.
The men escorted the ladies inside. Inside, the house smelled of cinnamon and lavender, a relaxing combination. Not willing to take advantage of the aromatherapy being offered, they took immediate defensive positions instead, the adults gathered the children together, placing them in the middle, while the adults surrounded them, forming a large circle, Meschelein at the head.
An older man with thinning gray hair, a short-boxed beard and mustache, and a portly belly, dressed casually in lightly colored cotton slacks and a white short-sleeved dress shirt, greeted them. "Good morning, ladies, how are you doing this morning?" Seeing the defensive posture, he quipped, "Oh, come now, I promise I will not harm you; that is not the purpose of this visit."
Meschelein spoke up with disdain thick in her voice. "Then why deliver a cryptic message to us if you do not mean any harm."
"Cryptic message . . . I don't remember any cryptic message?"
Alarica reached inside her cloak to pull the message she had received and gave it to the gentleman.
"This would be my assistant's doing. I apologize for the misunderstanding. I told him to bring all of you here so we can talk." Holding the card and shaking it, he added, "Which this certainly does not do, and for that I apologize on his behalf. Please follow me to the back, there we can talk and have a bit of refreshment."
It was a rather large estate, almost as big as the palace . . . almost. The outside looked like something out of the history books telling stories of plantation owners and their extravagant estates. The inside represented the pictures out of a magazine, showcasing the upper-class country style of decorating. Intricate lace curtains with various farm animals tastefully added a little bit of humor into the decorating, overall tastefully done.
The back obviously meant the back porch/sunroom set up with a tea and coffee tray with various sweet treats set on a white whicker table. White whicker chairs surrounded the table while pale blue cushions provided comfort. Everyone remained in a defensive position, never deviating from their position.
"Please have a seat and be comfortable, the children are welcome to run around outside. I promise, Old Blue, my bloodhound, is not dangerous and loves kids, my grandson can attest to that."
Claryvorra spoke up at that point. "No, sir, though we appreciate your kindness, we would rather stay."
"Young lady, I would really rather talk to your grown ups by themselves."
"I understand, sir. We will be sitting outside, and will be watching." Claryvorra took a bow while watching this mysterious man. "Good day to you."
Carissa altered her position so she would take the lead at the head, protecting the children. She saw movement out of the corner of her eye and reacted. It was the housekeeper carrying in a tray of freshly made lemonade. Carissa stopped just inches away from the housekeeper, scaring her, and from years of experience, luckily did not drop anything. Carissa bowed slightly as a show of apology, then turned to retake her stance in front of the kids to lead them outside.
Meschelein, Nerissa, Alarica, Bellona, Clarissant, and Leonessa were still in formation, waiting to see what this was all about.
The man's anger was growing steadily, seeing the ladies reaction with good reason. Robert, if I ever get my hands on you . . . Both Alarica and Meschelein heard the thought, but did not relax any, there was always a chance that all of this was bluff and bravado.
"Ladies, please sit down and be comfortable, I promise no harm will come to you. If by chance you happen to get hurt on my property, I only ask that you take me along with you to escape my wife. She tends to get a bit . . . well . . . testy I think the word is, if a houseguest gets hurt. Come and sit down, there's tea, coffee, and freshly made lemonade here on the table, along with some sweet treats for you."
No one relaxed completely, but relaxed just enough to sit down on the chairs. The man started speaking. "Now that everyone is relaxed, I'd like to introduce myself. I'm Brian Bramble, and I wanted to talk to you about what I overheard last night."
Seeing skeptical looks exchanged, he continued, "In case you need further clarification, I would be the heckler in the back of the room on the last day of the presentations." Still seeing that doubting look, he went on. "You never mentioned what weapon you have a mastery of," he said to see if they remembered. Suddenly, the memory of the voice from the audience came back, and Alarica felt it was her turn to speak up.
"Mr. Bramble, if you could state your business with us, we might be willing to be comfortable, as you say."
"I followed all of you outside last night and overheard the conversation you had out on the veranda. My wife always tells me that it's not unusual for a lady to walk with her friend to the ladies' room, but myself, I found it rather odd that the group of you gathered with none of you going to the ladies' room. I listened in on your conversation, and based on instinct and thirty five years of being married to a smart woman, I took notes of the man you described. I cannot go into much detail, but what I can tell you is, that based on your conversation, we were able to put a stop to his lifestyle. He was one of the top dogs in an organization, a secret organization it seems, that used the American government, my government, to escort young ladies to foreign countries against their will, selling them to the highest bidder. I have been authorized to escort you to see someone that I believe will be able to give you more information. We will be leaving in the morning. I thought you could spend a day to relax after the fine description I heard about your country. I have a few questions about that, but I think the person we will see tomorrow should be the one to ask those questions. I do not expect an answer or reply right away, though someone who is very important expects you, and I believe it will be well worth your time. I recorded your presentation and gave them the recordings. They liked what they saw. When you're ready, ask one the housekeepers here for me and they'll come and get me. In the meanwhile, please enjoy." There was one thing he could not resist, and that was freshly made lemonade and the sweets sitting on the table. Helping himself to both encouraged the ladies to do the same, only with the lemonade though, as that was what he chose to drink.
==========
Leonessa stood up from the chair and rallied the kids to bring them inside for refreshment and to discuss the matter at hand, as it involved them as well.
Clarissant had observed everything going on this morning. Bellona had told her last night before going to bed, the events that occurred previously. Clarissant was horrified to find out that such a man was still free and no one did anything about that. Finding out the reason that nobody did anything was simply because no one knew anything. "Now I know why nothing was done about such a monster. The next question, though, is do we believe what he said is true?"
"What he said is true. I heard nothing that would make me believe otherwise. The only question I have, though, is how much he overheard." There was fear in Meschelein's voice. Hearing it brought Alarica to attention that maybe it would be best to meet with this important person Mr. Bramble had spoken of. That would be the only way to find out how much information he exchanged.
Expressing her thoughts, "I move as weapons master and advisor to Sovereign Cyan Alarica that it would benefit us, all of us, to accept his proposal to meet with this important person." Leonessa had been thinking of strategies and protocol since their arrival. All of the pieces fit, except for the middle. The picture could not be completed without the middle pieces of this jigsaw puzzle, which had started with their acceptance of the invitation.
"Then so shall it be. Mr. Bramble has expressed their right to ask questions. We must express ours as well. Perhaps after supper, we will discuss that with him. Carissa, gather the children and scout the house; make note of everything, doors, windows, everything. When all of you are done, come back and report to me what you found. I do not like staying in a place that is unfamiliar, especially under a falsehood. No matter what they say. I will keep Gretel with me."
Meschelein made a motion for them to go and do what they had been instructed to do. She knew that children looking around a house would not be seen as unusual, and if caught, they had the ability to use their imagination to explain their way out of any situation and be believed. Gretel made a fuss when she saw her friends leaving her. Meschelein whistled a tune to put her to sleep. She would explain later. Now all that was left to do was wait.
==========
They spent the entire day in the sunroom, waiting for the children to come back. Claryvorra's warrior signs had improved, and she was very proficient in using them. She used the warrior signs to convey what she found in the house, Melisent doing the same. Meschelein did not understand the warrior signs, so instead, recited from memory of their exploration through the house while conveying the message to Alarica. Carissa whispered her findings to Bellona in Andromeda's mother tongue, while Emily whispered to Nerissa what she had found.
Alarica was the first to speak up. "I think we all know that this house does have a lot of doors and windows, so should the need occur, we would be able to escape the house. Escaping the grounds, though, is another matter entirely." Everybody nodded her head, knowing what she said was true. One of the housekeepers had been waiting patiently for them to finish talking.
There were two housekeepers, one to do the overall cleaning of the house, Mabel, and the other to do the cooking, Cookie. Both are successful housekeepers, learning early on in their career that if they wanted to succeed, whatever was said in private among their employers and/or their guests would not be repeated elsewhere.
Everyone had finished talking, so Mabel felt now would be a good time to deliver the message. "Good day to you. Mr. Bramble wanted you all to know that rooms have been cleaned, and are ready for you. If you would all follow me, please?"
They exchanged glances, thinking that it would not appear to be very kind if they did not accept Mr. Bramble's hospitality. They stood and followed Mabel out of the sunroom, through the sitting room, down a hallway, to a staircase, and up three flights before reaching the final destination. Their luggage was already inside a very spacious room. The entire third floor was a bedroom, with seven queen-sized beds tastefully placed inside the room. Upon further investigation, they realized it had its own bathroom as well.
Holding up a key, Mabel informed them, "This is a key to the room. Mr. Bramble is the only one that has a copy of the key. Dinner will be served at seven, and it is expected of everyone to be dressed properly. Should you need anything, my name is Mabel." Mabel kept her back to the wall, away from the group, and closed the door behind her after giving the key to Meschelein.
Once the door was closed, Carissa took a look around, her eyes wide open "This room is huge. You could fit the winery in here and still have plenty of room. Well, let me get the kids cleaned up first, after that, we'll decide who goes next." Meschelein nodded her head and woke up her daughter. Carissa gathered the kids and sat everyone by the door, ushering the girls in first.
Leonessa's mind was busy thinking strategy to force him to tell the truth, whether he knew it or not. She knew he was not as intelligent as Meschelein, therefore would never be able to detect her strategy. There was always a possibility that he would see her bluff and would play along with her just for the fun, but she had to try, for all of their sake.
Clarissant and Nerissa sat together on a bed, not doing anything, just lost in thought. Bellona, Alarica, and Meschelein stood together to discuss what they knew and what they had been told. They knew they were free to leave and were not being held prisoner, he said as much, but curiosity rang through all of them to find out who the mysterious stranger is or was.
==========
Once everyone prepared themselves for supper, they walked single file down the stairs, with Meschelein in the lead, the children in between, and Leonessa in the back. It was a little early, about twenty minutes before dinner would be served.
As Meschelein entered the sitting room, she was met by an older lady, small in stature, well groomed, sprinkles of gray mixed within sandy brown hair, light brown eyes, and a hospitable smile.
"Welcome, to my home. I hope your room is satisfactory." Seeing nods, she proceeded. "Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes. We will be having blackened salmon, rice pilaf, and steamed asparagus with hollandaise sauce, and for dessert, we have a strawberry rhubarb pie alamode. My husband tells me you are foreign diplomats, what country do you represent?"
Alarica stepped out from behind Meschelein. "I am Sovereign Cyan Alarica of Avalon, my dear lady. The room is very nice, thank you."
"Avalon . . . is there an Avalon? I do not remember any Avalon on any maps that I have seen. Where is Avalon?"
Just as Alarica was about to answer, Mr. Bramble stepped into the room. "Oh, Helen, I'm sure they are tired and would like to talk about something else . . . or do something else." With a twinkle in his eye, he asked, "How about a game of chess? My wife doesn't play, and I can't find a decent partner. I'm sure one of you fine ladies would be able to take the challenge."
Leonessa spoke up. "I will accept the challenge as your opponent in the game of chess, Mr. Bramble." Bowing slightly before standing, she added, "Mr. Bramble, I find it rather odd that one of your paintings depicts a scene that is untrue. Would this be a painting of a patriot of your country?"
Mr. Bramble started laughing. "You must mean the painting of George Washington. I got that painting as a gift from someone a long time ago, back in . . . '52 '53 . . . anyway, the painting was given to me as a challenge, to see if I could tell what was wrong with the painting. They needed to try a little harder; because that's John Quincy Adams he's standing next to, not John Adams. John Quincy Adams took office in 1825, and George Washington died in 1799. So unless that's George Washington's ghost he's standing next to, the picture is a fake. It was given to me as a good gesture, so I kept it. You have a good eye, little lady."
Leonessa smiled. "Little lady?" asked Leonessa as she approached, him looking down on him. She stood a good five inches taller than he did.
"Well, excuse me, I didn't mean any disrespect," he said while laughing, hoping to calm the tension between them.
Smiling in victory, Leonessa said, "None taken, Mr. Bramble, none taken." Hearing a bell ring in the distance, she asked, "Would that be the dinner bell, Mr. Bramble?" Leonessa backed up just enough to give him room to exit the room.
"Why yes, it is. Right this way." They let the Brambles take the lead, following close behind.
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It was a large, rectangular table set for fifteen people. Mr. Bramble and his wife sat at one end of the table, with Mr. Bramble at the head. Meschelein took the opposite head so they would be facing each other. The children were seated such that they would be between adults, and not sitting by themselves.
Helen had been watching the children with interest and wondered, "I have noticed your children behaving quite nicely. How do you do that, especially with the baby?"
Leonessa answered. "The children are taught etiquette starting at a young age. We encourage them to participate in as many activities, such as banquets and dinners, so they have a clearer understanding of what is expected. If they do not do as they are taught to do, we review with them their behavior to point out not only what they had done wrong, but what they did right as well. We discuss alternative solutions to the unacceptable behaviors they displayed."
Looking at Meschelein directly, Mrs. Bramble asked, "Is that true for you as well? I have not heard any crying or screaming from her. She looks like an angel, always smiling."
"I find that if we behave, she will be encouraged to behave as well. She is much too young to be exposed to the banquets and celebrations."
"What sort of an accent is that? I have always been fascinated with different languages and have never heard that one before. What is it?"
Thinking how much to explain to the woman before answering, she replied, "The language with which I speak is unknown, though most of my country speaks the language."
"How fascinating, and there are no records, nothing to say what the language is?" The conversation sparked Helen's interest, and was unknowingly wearing on Meschelein's patience level with questions she was not willing to answer.
"We have no record."
Sensing her wife's growing anger, Nerissa stepped in to change the subject to something that would hopefully take their mind off any more probing questions. She only hoped it worked, and her wife would forgive her. "You know, playing chess is all well and fine, but there's nothing better than a good game of poker."
"Poker, huh, well, I would take you up on that offer, but I offered the other lady a game of chess, and chess games can get rather lengthy. I'll tell you what, though, the first opportunity I get, I'll take you up on that offer, you against me."
"You're on, and I bet I can beat you hands down." Nerissa chanced a glance at her wife, and instead of seeing anger, she saw a silent thank you from Meschelein. The rest of the dinner continued in silence.
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After the meal was done, Carissa gathered the kids to escort them up to put them to bed. Meschelein gave Carissa the key so they would be able enter. Leonessa followed Mr. Bramble back to the sitting room for their game of chess. Mr. Bramble set up a table then brought out the board and the pieces, each one putting the pieces into proper position.
They started the game, and three hours later, they were still playing. Leonessa felt the fatigue of the day, and knew that a battle fought with fatigue was always lost. Looking at the board thinking about her next move, she stated, "I offer a temporary cease. Since we will be leaving first thing in the morning, I doubt your important acquaintance would appreciate us arriving sleepy."
"You have a point there, my dear. I have to say I have never enjoyed a game of chess like this in ages. Thank you for the opportunity, and as soon we are able, we will continue the game. I will not move this table, and I'll tell Mabel to leave it alone." Mr. Bramble sat back and looked at his opponent before standing up.
Leonessa stood up at the same he did, and he offered his hand. Leonessa took it in a warrior's handshake.
Waiting for him to walk up the stairs, she followed behind him and only stopped as the couple entered their room, offering them a bow. As soon as they closed their door, she proceeded upstairs to her room, since the rest of the group had gone upstairs not long after Carissa with the kids.
Leonessa knocked on the door, and Alarica answered, letting her mother into the room. Everyone was tired and ready to go to sleep, but with a member of their pack missing, they couldn't go to sleep until they returned. Now that everyone was accounted for, everyone climbed into bed, turned out the light, and went to sleep.
Meschelein could not sleep because of the strange surroundings. She laid there peacefully though, next to Nerissa, watching, listening for anything and to anything.
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The following morning found Meschelein already dressed and ready to go, with Alarica the next to awaken. Alarica thought it strange to have her friend ready so soon. "Meschelein, good morning, is there something wrong?"
Meschelein turned around and smiled a genuine smile. "Good morning, Alarica. There is nothing wrong. I just could not sleep last night. I readied everyone's dress to wear today, and packed the rest. Our clothes need to be laundered as soon as we can."
"How come you were not able to sleep?" Alarica asked out of concern.
"Alarica, everything is fine. I just could not sleep in this strange place. Go ahead and get cleaned up, they have not awakened yet, so it will be all right."
Alarica went to the bathroom to wash up before going downstairs wondering about her friend. The rest of the group woke up in intervals, wondering who had taken the time to chose their dress and pack their luggage. Neither Alarica nor Meschelein spoke up. Meschelein did not feel it was necessary, and Alarica did not think she had a right to say anything as well, and it did not matter, really. Once everyone was dressed, they each carried their luggage downstairs to the entry and placed it by the door.
A short time later, footfalls were heard quietly coming down the stairs. They looked to see Mr. Bramble dressed for the day. "Good morning, ladies, the Mrs. likes to sleep a little bit longer. I'll tell Cookie to get the breakfast ready and set so we can go ahead and leave right after. Does that sound all right?"
Meschelein spoke up "Yes, that will be fine, Mr. Bramble."
Mr. Bramble nodded in the affirmation and left to talk to the cook. He returned to tell them that Cookie was almost done preparing breakfast, so it should be ready in about ten minutes. A bell was heard and Mr. Bramble led the way to the dining room, where there was coffee and a hot water dispenser for tea waiting for them on a side table. They took their respective seats, eating a silent breakfast. Afterwards, the subject matter which had been meant to be brought up and discussed the previous evening, but had been forgotten due to other matters being discussed, was brought up.
Meschelein spoke up. "Mr. Bramble, you have expressed your desire, as well as the desire of the other guest, to ask questions of us. We reserve the right to do same. If we are not given that right then we will all go back home without looking back."
"I understand you quite clearly, and I expected that, so don't you worry any. We will be leaving in thirty minutes to go to the airport. I guarantee the plane is quite comfortable, if I do say so myself. So don't worry about that. The ride will take us about an hour, maybe a little over. Then we will all meet the person that I have been talking about. Are there any questions?"
Seeing everyone shaking their head in the negative, he continued. "All right, then, I'll be back down when the time comes for us to leave." Mr. Bramble stood up from the table to go back to his room. The pack stood up together to leave the table, Meschelein in the lead.
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The car loaded and everyone inside, they left for the airport right on time. They arrived at a large, private airport, Hermes Airport, designed for the large, luxurious airplanes that most people only read and dream about. The car stopped in front of the airplane, the American Eagle, to be exact, which is just a little smaller than the 747 commercial jets. They entered the airplane and everyone was immediately taken aback by the luxurious seats, decorations around the cabin, the large movie screen, and if someone were to wander back towards the tail section, they would find a queen sized bed. The plane sat twenty people comfortably without sacrificing elbowroom. Once everyone was seated and the luggage stored, they took off to parts unknown. Everyone was nervous, with a little bit of fear mixed in about their next destination. The airplane was remarkably quiet, without noise from the engines thundering through the cabin.
A little over an hour later, they landed at their destination, Washington D.C. Little did they know, however, that this was the very place that all of the dreams, aspirations, and hard work that Alarica had previously done had finally paid off. After all this time, she was finally going to see the American President, not for the purposes that she had planned, but hopefully, with a little bit of work, all of her aspirations would come to light.
Everyone loaded into the stretch limousine waiting for them just a short walk from the airplane. Melisent looked out the window, and suddenly, her eyes grew large. "Sir, Mr. Bramble, sir, are we in Washington, D.C., the Smithsonian museum, Lincoln memorial, and the White House, that Washington, D.C.?"
Mr. Bramble started laughing. "Yup, sure is that, missy. Maybe, with your momma's permission, she would let ya go on a tour. It certainly would be more interesting than staying with us listening to grown up talk."
"I'm used to that, but the tour does sound nice. Both of my mommas just need to think about it for a bit." Melisent smiled as she wrapped her arms around Alarica, to give her a kiss, and then Breanne, to give her a kiss as well, then sat back and enjoyed the ride. The only thing was, she was the only one that was relaxed, everyone else, including Alarica, was a little nervous, and a lot fearful.
Arriving at their destination, they were met by the men in those black suits again, except this time, they were wearing Ray Bans. These were secret service men, and they surrounded their guests as a safety precaution due to the uneasiness of the current state of affairs across the ocean. Leading them through a path, they came upon a set of wooden double doors. One of the secret service detail opened the door to reveal a rather large and lavishly decorated office.
Tobias, who had been quiet during this entire encounter, had a question that was dying to be asked. "Is this the White House, sir? Are we inside the White House? Are we really going to meet the President, sir? Are we really?" Bellona put her hand on his shoulder as a silent sign to calm down.
Mr. Bramble laughed even harder. "Calm down, boy, calm down. No, we are not at the White House, though you would think so with all of these black suits walking around. No, we are, in fact, inside the private residence of the big man himself."
The doors opened and in walked a tall man, equal to the height of Alarica, thin but well built, graying thick, dark brown hair, and wearing golf clothes, having been offered a golf game with the senator of Florida. Knowing he would win the game, he had accepted. His golf game was interrupted, however, when he was notified that he had guests in his private residence. Calling the game to a halt, he left to see to the new arrivals, knowing he would have an interesting day.
"Good morning, ladies . . . my name is Millard Jackson, President of the United States. The older man is Brian Bramble, my Vice President. I trust you have been well taken care of?"
Meschelein, on down the line, was too stunned to talk. They had been in the private residence of the Vice President and had not known it. The doors suddenly opening shook Meschelein enough to start talking. "Good day to you, and yes, everything is well, Mr. President."
"Good, glad to hear it, or I might have to fire the old man. I'm going to get cleaned up and changed. There are refreshments there, if you would like. Be comfortable and relax." A thought came to mind. "Oh, and by the by, don't let him," pointing to Brian Bramble, "talk you into playing chess with him, the man cheats."
"I don't cheat, and the fine lady sitting over there can tell ya that, youngun'," Mr. Bramble said with a touch of anger.
The President mouthed . . . He cheats, he always cheats, don't believe him, no. With that, he smiled, waved, and walked out of the room.
Everyone found a seat either on the couch or the floor, designating the couch for the grown ups. In the meanwhile, Mr. Bramble was readying a TV cart complete with a twenty-six inch television and a VCR. He pushed in an unmarked tape, set the VCR, and then pushed the cart against the wall to be out of the way.
President Jackson returned twenty minutes later in a polo shirt and slacks. As soon as he entered, everyone gathered in formation and bowed according to protocol. They would stay in that position, according to etiquette, until they were told to rise.
Mr. Bramble was just a little uncomfortable at this show of respect, and in an attempt to lighten the mood a little, he said, "Oh, now don't do that, ladies, you'll make his big head even bigger." He laughed, but got no reaction from the pack.
This time it was President Jackson's turn. "Please rise and state your business." He was in awe as they rose at the same time. "Ladies, if you would be comfortable, please. There are plenty of chairs here in front of the desk. My staff will take care of your children while we talk." Immediately, the door opened and two women dressed in tank tops and shorts, one with a ball and the other holding sand toys, entered. The kids looked at the mothers, asking silently for permission. Seeing the nodding heads, the kids plus Carissa and Breanne left the office so they could discuss business, knowing everything would be discussed with them later.
"Now that that has been settled, Brian attended the World's Authorities meeting as a favor to me, and for personal reasons as well. He recorded the presentations for me, and what I saw was of great interest to me." Waiting for the cart to be put into place, he paused. "What I found interesting was . . ." He stopped the tape at a point that captured Alarica's gaze drifting from her point of concentration to Meschelein. "You see here, your focus changes from time to time from straight ahead to the lady seated next to you. Then the other thing that I found interesting was at this point . . ." He fast forwarded the tape then rewound it just a bit to find a certain spot. From this point forward, it showcased Alarica presenting the sports of Avalon. "It seems to me that you have a fascination with weapons, Ms. Alarica. I understand why, based on your presentation, though you have to admit it does raise some suspicions. Tell me what you did not include in your presentations, whatever you wish to tell me. This is not to put you on trial . . . there is a reason why I am asking this. What you tell me will stay in this room. My house is swept for any devices, listening or otherwise, five times a day . . . the last time being only one hour ago."
Alarica weighed her knowledge against the facts the American President had explained to her. How much should she tell? "Mr. President, I am sovereign of a country that has been hidden from the world for many generations. While I would like to believe what you say, there is still a part of me that believes that you may be speaking with a forked tongue."
"You are an intelligent lady, just as Brian said you are. And you're right, you don't know if I'm telling the truth. Here we are, though, away from Capital Hill, away from bureaucracy, away from all of that bull, you tell me the truth, and I will tell you the truth." Ht took a pause before continuing. "You have to know I have nothing to gain."
"You may believe you have nothing to gain, but we have everything to lose, our home, our family, our traditions."
"Trust has to start somewhere. We cannot build on anything that is not there to begin with, there must be something to build upon."
"I will not answer all of your questions, but the questions that you have pointed out I will answer. I was looking in Meschelein's direction because of something I heard. And as far as the sports of Avalon, we are a warrior race, women warriors who fought with weapons. We do not have a sport such as baseball, Mr. President."
"All right, and it is a pity, baseball really is fun. Brian also wrote notes about a conversation that all of you had on the night of the banquet. It was mentioned that one of you would like to punish a guest by using his memories against him, what does that entail?"
I was afraid of that, he learned more than what he was letting on, the bastard, Meschelein thought before she stood to speak. "Mr. President, it seems as though while you trust your second-in-command, we cannot, because of the lie he told to us. He said he had overheard the conversation we had out on the veranda. We did not have that discussion out on the veranda."
"Ma'am, please, I'm sure he had good reason for doing that."
"He had good reason for doing that because he had been ordered to lie. He may not have been ordered directly, but due to his station, he cannot question his leader, who I am sure told him to find out any information he could about us, no matter the cost."
Mr. Bramble had heard enough. "Hey now, wait a minute, young lady, I did no such thing, and neither did he. Now I don't know how he got that information, but what I told you is the truth."
Alarica stood up and looked at Meschelein, exchanging glances. Meschelein sat down, but Alarica remained standing. "If Mr. Bramble did not give you the information, then who did, Mr. President? You say to trust you, but I find it hard to trust someone who cannot control their own words."
"Ms. Alarica, this was not meant to be confrontational. . ." Just then the secret service busted in the door. President Jackson held up his hand, halting their entry. They stopped only to be shooed out of the office. "This was not meant to be confrontational. In answer to the question of how I got the information, I have a friend who is deaf and reads lips quite well. She emailed me about an interesting conversation she had seen while attending the banquet with her cousin. It is as I told you; everything that is said in this office will stay in this office. It would not make for good relations between our countries if I told my PR team about our discussion."
How much do I say, Meschelein? How much do I tell? Alarica sat down as Meschelein stood up again. "Mr. President, we are reluctant to tell you because we do not wish to be turned into guinea pigs. Can you guarantee that we will not?"
"Yes, I can, because this is not a public office, this is a private office. That is the reason why I chose my house versus the White House. If we were in the White House then I would be obligated to let the proper people know of my findings. Since we are not, I am not obligated to say anything to anyone."
"Very well, then." Meschelein closed her eyes to change their color back to their natural state. She opened them and held out her hands. Bellona and Alarica took hold of her hands, and soon, the house shook enough to cause several paintings to fall then stopped shaking. Meschelein turned around, and one by one, the paintings were up once again in their proper place. "Any questions, Mr. President..?"
Just as President Jackson started to speak, the secret service barged in once again. "Guys, will you knock it off. I'm trying to have a meeting here, do you mind?"
"The house shook, and there are no reports of any earthquakes in this region, sir. So for your safety, we must evacuate."
"Well, evacuate my ass, because I'm not going anywhere. I don't give a flyin' hoot what that report says because I felt nothin'. Now, if you would please excuse me . . ." Millard made a back motion with his hands and they did not move.
"But, sir . . ."
"Out, before I ask one of these ladies to help me get rid of you, and you won't like your means of an exit."
"But, Mr. President, sir . . ."
"I said out!" he ordered, pointing his finger towards the door. The men did not have a choice but to go. "Now we can get back to business, but before we continue, let me do one last thing." Millard took out a key from the top drawer of his desk and opened the door to see if there was somebody there. Closing it again, he locked the doors. "There now, we can talk without being interrupted by the pain in ass security team." Looking up and seeing the raised eyebrows, he apologized, "I'm sorry for mouthing off. I promise my momma did raise a good ol' boy. Now, where were we? Oh yes, that's right, the ground shook." Looking at Meschelein, he asked, "Ma'am, your name would be . . ."
"Meschelein . . ."
Looking through various papers, he finally said, "Ah yes, you didn't give a presentation last night. Well, I can understand why, and that demonstration did spark my imagination, causing me to come up with a possible conclusion to my question." Putting the papers back down on the desk and setting them aside, he began again. "The man one of you recognized is one in a large group that we, that is, myself and Brian, have been attempting to put a stop to for quite some time. They had moles within my office, which we found thanks to you, that gave them classified information. He not only operated a white slavery ring, he was also selling our government secrets, false information kept around just for that purpose, but he was selling the secrets nonetheless. He did not tell us anything, but one of his hooligans, once he was caught, told us everything that we needed to know . . . up to a certain point. The only question I have left is . . . they are only a small part of a larger operation. If by some chance we happen to find out that information, we can put a stop to the entire operation, which will also mean that the streets will be just a little bit safer for all of us. I need someone to get that information for me. I cannot use the taxpayers' money unjustifiably by doing this because of the war going on. But if I was to fund this privately, without press . . . then would either of you be willing to get that information for me?"
Meschelein looked at both Bellona and Alarica. Feeling the need to speak up, Bellona replied, "Mr. President of the United States, I am Sovereign Bellona of Andromeda, here for the purpose of entertaining Vice President Brambles' wishes to meet this mysterious person who has the ability to answer all of our questions. It would not take long for me and another warrior to go out of this room to find out if that distraction was a simple misunderstanding or a staged play. While you say you are telling the truth, and a part of me does, in fact, believe that you are . . . do we know for certain that you are not a part of this white slavery ring?"
Looking at Brian, the President asked him, "Brian, what sort of things did you say to them, anyway?"
"I only told them that we would leave in the morning to meet someone very important. If I had to hazard a guess, it would be that note that Roger wrote to these fine ladies."
"What did the note say?"
"A car will be waiting for her when she is ready to leave. More will be explained upon arrival. No signature, no telling them who it was from. Since then, they have been suspicious, not that I blame them."
"That's it?"
"That's it, Mill?" Brian shrugged his shoulders, not knowing what else to say.
"No wonder you're all suspicious. I would be too if I received that note, and no, it was not a staged play, you can be assured of that. I am not a part of that white slavery ring. I want to put a stop to that." Rubbing his eyes and shaking his head, he suddenly felt fingers upon his head.
Meschelein had used the distraction that Bellona provided to read his memories. What she saw proved his word, but it also showed that he knew more about the story than he realized. Whistling a tune to put him into a trance, Brian immediately moved to stop Meschelein, but Leonessa was quicker.
Meschelein needed absolute silence. Alarica, I need you to keep Brian Bramble quiet until this is done. Alarica made a sign to Leonessa to keep Mr. Bramble quiet. Leonessa saw and understood.
"Who are you?"
"Millard Jackson . . ."
"Who is the boss selling the white slaves?"
"I don't know."
"Think back to the night of a party. Everybody there, you were there with a beautiful lady, tall, dark hair, cut just below the ears. Everyone in formal wear . . . you saw something that night. Explain to me what you saw."
"I entered the banquet hall. I shook hands with everyone; my wife had her hand on the curve of my arm. We found our table. I was about to sit down when I received a message that there was a call for me. I left to take the call. On the way, I saw . . . I saw my general talking to Brian. It was nothing out of the ordinary, so I kept walking until I heard Brian yelling. I walked into the room demanding an explanation. They said nothing and left the room."
"You heard the conversation. What did the men say?"
"I didn't hear that much."
"You heard something though, tell me what you heard."
"I only heard that Brian demanded more money because of all the trouble he went through to find that little darlin'. It was his fault he lost her, he said."
Just then, Brian Bramble started struggling even harder, but Leonessa was a trained warrior and weapons master. She knew how to keep him still with little effort.
"You will remember all, release your memories." Meschelein stood up again and whistled another tune to bring him out of the trance.
President Jackson sat there blinking his eyes, attempting to come to his senses. Sitting straight up, he looked around the room, noticing Leonessa holding Brian Bramble, with Clarissant and Bellona on either side just in case. The light in his head suddenly went on. He stood up from his desk and looked directly at Brian. "It was you. It was you all along and I didn't even remember it until they helped me to remember, why Brian . . . why?"
". . .A man has needs, that's why. And it's up to the women to provide them. I just sold to the highest bidder. If it wasn't for your assistant meeting me at the party, you would have never known."
Looking at Leonessa, the President asked, "Ma'am, do you think you could help me take him to the guards. I'll explain everything. I just need to be sure he makes it there. Then I have to begin plans to explain to the American public why the Vice President is being arrested."
"I will assist you." Leonessa changed her hold, still secure, but looking a lot less menacing.
"Thank you to all of you. I don't suppose any of you would be willing to become the Vice President?" Seeing everyone shake their head no, he continued. "Somehow, I didn't think so. I'll be back in a minute, ladies. Please make yourselves comfortable."
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Millard Jackson explained as much as he could without going into too much detail. Brian Bramble started telling the whole story, and as he did, President Jackson just made a motion that Brian Bramble was losing his mind. Being the President of the United States made you believable, besides, who would believe that there were alien women in the house.
Both returned to the room and he closed the doors behind him. Resuming the seat behind the desk, he spoke. "Thank you, ladies, for your assistance. I can guarantee you he will be punished. It won't be as creative, no, but he will pay for what he did. How about if we take a break for lunch? Anything you want, you just let the cook know. We will meet again in an hour right here in the office." Looking at everyone, he sees that skeptical look reflected back at him. "I thought we could form some sort of an agreement to join our forces. You tell me a little bit about you, and I will tell you a little bit about me."
Alarica smiled and nodded her head. "That sounds fine, Mr. President, thank you." She took the hand that was offered, giving him a warrior's handshake.
So it began . . .
Brian Bramble was brought up on charges of selling state secrets and running a white slavery ring. Having been found guilty, he was sentenced to the Federal Penitentiary for the rest of his natural life, plus another lifetime for the murder of three people, found dead when the feds raided his home looking for evidence.
A new Vice President was found, and spent a wonderful six years by Millard Jackson's side. Millard Jackson suggested to Alarica that she keep her country's borders up due to the supernatural abilities that she and her friends possessed. Alarica reluctantly agreed, knowing that would be the wise thing to do. Her dream did not come true, but a bridge did form, not from the United States of America to Avalon, but from Millard Jackson to Alarica. All he had to do was call the number she had given him, and she would make arrangements for his visits with a strict understanding that what happens on Avalon stays in Avalon. He agreed.
President Jackson did keep his word about not telling anyone what happened in his office, and when asked how he was able to find out about the white slavery ring, his only comment was because he used to watch a lot of PI shows on TV when he was a kid. It didn't matter if the press believed him, it only mattered that he was able to keep a secret for the sake of friendship.
The pack was able to return to their houses to rest up from their extended trip. After proper rest, they returned to Avalon, Andromeda, and Tutela Isle respectively, with plans to come together to celebrate their new beginnings. They did come together after a month's time of seeing to affairs of the people and putting everything back in order once again. It was a night of celebration, a great celebration outside Avalon's palace, lanterns were lit, music playing, a feast prepared, fine wine brought out to celebrate the night with, people dancing, people laughing . . . a great night it was, it should have been, it lasted for three days. Realizing that all good things must come to an end, the party finished and the people went home.
Meschelein no longer felt the need to hide her eyes, because now, she knew she had friends who loved her for who she was. The past behind them, a dark past put behind all of them, they all looked to a bright and wondrous future.
****
It was about a year after all of the events had taken place that Meschelein found a document while redoing a room in the palace. It was the spell used by Drusilla many centuries before, to separate the island into three. It was not the complete spell because it did not contain any information on the Cloak of Secrecy . . . it was torn at that point. She met with both Alarica and Bellona, and all three agreed to try to bring their island home together to form one, as it should have been. With Meschelein in the middle, Alarica and Bellona on either of her, she cast the spell, pulling all of their energy together to be one, one home, one heart . . . one soul. The ground shook violently, the walls crumbled, and people ran screaming for their lives. Then it suddenly stopped, the ground stopped shaking. Alarica and Bellona supported Meschelein while they walked outside to see for themselves. They could not believe their eyes. It was not Avalon, it was not Andromeda, and it was not Tutela Isle . . . because the islands had come together as one. It was the birth of the Triumvirate . . . the birth of a new island home.
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The book is closed and put away to read for another day. It seemed so real, and hard to imagine that all of that had happened. It does not matter anymore, because this is home now, just as it should be.
Thank you for reading the Triumvirate Saga. I would like to thank all of you for reading my story. I hope to hear from you. Look for another story coming soon.
Calliopenjo J