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Date Posted: 19:31:40 07/06/02 Sat
Author: Yarvarni
Subject: Escape 3
In reply to: Yarvarni 's message, "Escape.....Redux" on 19:26:18 07/06/02 Sat

Over the next 3 days Ian had fleeting episodes of lucidity, but Sara knew he was getting worse. "Danny, what do I do? You've seen his back, it isn't healing. I've done everything I know to do. Danny? Danny! Why are you never here when I need you!"

"Sara," Ian rasped.

"Hey. How you feeling?" She smiled down into his fever bright eyes, trying not to let him see how worried she was.

Barely a whisper "phone. I need my phone."

"Who are you going to call?" She had news for him, he wasn't about to call Irons.

"No one."

She gave the phone over to his shaking hand and watched in disbelief as he began dismantling it.

"What are you doing?!"

"Tracers. He began switching my phone out with one that has a tracer in it. He could track us here."

"I thought he trusted you."

"He has not for some time now."

"Since I came along?"

"Yes, he does not like my newfound autonomy." He looked thoughtfully at the phone, now in pieces, "its clean."

"Ian, I have to take you to a Doctor. You are getting worse."

"No."

"Your fever is still high, you aren't healing, and your dehydrated. If I don't take you somewhere, you'll die."

I know he thought to himself. Irons must have put something on the cat-o-nine tails that poisoned him, the fever had come on too fast. "Perhaps that would be best."

That was easier than she thought. "Ok, let me get you some clothes and we'll be on our way."

"No, I meant if I die."

Was he serious. "What!!!!" Had to be the fever talking. "Who would sit out on the fire escape and watch me? Who would slip into my apartment uninvited and walk around like he owns the place? Who would fill my fridge and cabinets with my favorite foods?" She caressed his cheek.

He didn't answer for the longest time savoring her touch. "I can not go to a doctor. He would find us."

She held up her wrist, "Can this help you?"

"I do not know. The Blade heals its weilder, but I have no idea about anyone else." He closed his eyes to shield his gaze from the distress in her eyes.

"I know you remember our pasts together, don't you know of any instance....?"

"No, Sara. You are beginning to trust your memories now?" He had been hopeful she would.

She nodded

Ians strength was waning. "You must trust the visions, They will aid you on your path. You must delve into the stone and into yourself to see what must be done. Trust the blade, it trusts you. It can give you answers you seek."
Sara watched helplessly as he sank back into the oblivion of fever. When had she begun to believe in their mutual pasts? What was she going to do? She stared into the amber eye of the Blade. It remained silent. "Come on!" She shook her wrist. "Listen, this man has survived a living Hell to serve you, help him, please." No response. Fickle bitch.

She carefully put Ian's phone back together hoping it would work, pray Gabe would answer the phone when he didn't recognize the number. Dial tone and it rang.....Yes!

"Who is this and why are you calling me?" Chirped the familiar voice.

"Gabriel, thank God!"

"Yo, Chief, where are you? No wait don't want to know. You ok?"

"I'm fine but I need some info."

"Anything for my favorite drummer girl."

Smart ass, "not now. Look you got anything on the Witchblade and healing?"

He frowned "You hurt?"

"Not me, a......" she paused, "a friend."

"Mr. Tall, dark, & scary?" There was more between those two than Sara cared to admit.

Cringing at his accessment of Ian, wishing he could understand. "Yes."

"He's in some serious trouble, Chief. He's got several hits out on him."

"WHAT?!!!" Hits on the ultimate hitman?

"Don't know why or who, but there is a whole dossier about your pal on the net."

There was a long lapse in conversation. Gabe broke the silence first, "You still there?"

"Yeah. Just check out the healing possibilities for me, ok? Call me when you find something."

"Sure thing. I got the number on ID."

Sara coaxed Ian onto his stomach and removed his bandages, the wounds remained unchanged. Restless and frustrated she decided to let the wounds air and she stalked around the cabin. "Damn, forgot the phone." As she entered the bedroom she stared in shock seeing the well manicured figure of Elizabeth Bronte gazing intently at Ian.

"Elizabeth, help him."

Elizabeth slowly turned, "all that I have given him apparently can not help him this time."

"What?"

"Kenneth infused the boy with my DNA from the moment he obtained him, hoping to turn him into a male Weilder or into someone more easily able to control the actual Weilder. One never knows Kenneth's true intentions." She arched an eyebrow, "don't look so horrified, Sara, this changes nothing between to two of you."

Sara stood dumbfounded trying to make sense of it all, twisting the bracelet nervously around her wrist. "Could the Blade heal him if he wore it?"

Elizabeth shrugged, "heal him or kill him."

Her seeming indifference enraged Sara, "don't you want to help me save him?"

She ran her gloved hand through Ian's hair, "I couldn't save him when he was mine, Sara, what makes you think I can save him now."

She made her way out the door leaving Sara to ponder those words. Sara stood in disbelief staring at the empty door frame. The phone shocked her out of her reverie. She checked the number, "please tell me you got something."

"Sorry Chief. Nothing on healing anyone other than the Weilder. I take it he's pretty bad off?"

"Yeah." She sat down beside Ian, his fever was rising again. "I don't know what to do. I can't keep his fever down, his wounds won't heal. I think maybe Irons poisoned him somehow."

"Phone," Ian said softly into the pillow.

"Hang on Gabe."

"Ian, you ok?"

"Who is that?" He turned as much as he could without help.

"Its Gabriel."

"Give me the phone, please."

Puzzled, but willing to do just about anything for him at this moment. "Gabe, here's Ian."

"Huh?" Surely he's not going to try and threaten me.

"Gabriel, there is a panel under the floor beneath the Pompeii urn. Open it and please do as I have asked." Ian's voice was weak but intent on this mission.

"No booby traps, Nottingham?"

He managed a weak smile, "No booby traps." He handed the phone back to Sara. "Promise me you will get him to see my instructions."

She could see Ian was growing weaker and more pale by the minute, "I promise."

Sara listened as Gabe shuffled things around, "You find it Gabe?"

"Yeah, how bad off is he?"

"Why?" She didn't like the sound of that.

Reading the letter outloud.
Gabriel, in the event of my death, please make sure these disks are sent to INTERPOL. They are packaged and ready to go just messenger them. Please watch over Lady Sara for me (as much as she will allow it). I apologize for placing you in danger with this request but you are the only person aside from Sara I can trust. Continue to walk in the light, no matter how closely the darkness looms.

Ian Christian Nottingham

"He thinks he's going to die, Chief."

"You will not die on me Nottingham! You are not going to abandon me! I won't let you," she yelled at the unconcious man.

‘There is a letter addressed to you. You want me to open it."

"No! See what is on those disks, report back, and put it all back where you found it."

"Sure thing. I let you know as soon as I have something."

Sara started to hang up the phone when she heard a loud, whoa, from Gabe. "What? You have something?"

"Yeah, there's a king's ransom in here. At least 2 million bucks in the bottom of this bag. With a note that says this is for all my troubles." What was with Nottingham, why was he doing this for him. He had done nothing but threaten him.

Concobar's ransom, Sara thought sadly.

"Chief?"

"Let me know when you have something, ok." She hung up the phone tears in her eyes. The counterfeit money was never recovered from the crime scene. Ian had taken it and given it to Irons, a vision of the bag burning in the gigantic fireplace in Irons's study played out in her mind. Him saying the money was nothing. Striking Ian across the face. Then images flooded of past abuses, Ian beaten as a young child, locked in a small dark closet for hours, strapped to a steel table large needles being inserted into his spine, chained shirtless repeated viciously whipped at different ages. "Stop, please!!!!!" She closed her eyes tightly.
The eye of the Blade began to burn hotly, angrily. She was quickly transported into a vision of her in a grey tunic brusing down a gigantic horse. A rider approach, "Milady, Sir Ewan has been gravely injured, come quickly!" She lept on her steed and followed Ewan's faithful servant over the moors to his adjoining manor lands. "What happened Eisley?"

"His Lordship was attacked on his way back from the village. He was thrown from Drac and dragged a good ways. The injuries from that are as bad if not worse than the ones inflicted by the sword."

Upon reaching Ewan's massive stone house, she swiftly dismounted and flew upstairs to his bedchamber. Colleen, his long time housekeeper was pressing a poultice on his back. "How is he?"

"E's worse off than I ever seen him Milady."

"Cat?" She barely heard him whisper.

"Yes, my dear friend, I am here and will not leave you."

"Drac, please check on him. He saved my life again, he dragged me to a safe vantage point. I was able to fire my crossbow and force my attackers into retreat. They tell me he is fine but I worry. Please, Cat."

"I will just as soon as I see how you are doing."

"I shall be fine once Colleen removes this wretched poultice from my back."

"You being cranky is a good sign, old friend. I believe I will go check on the Drac now."

"Check him as if he were your own, Cathain, he has a great heart."

She sat down gently beside Ewan and brushed his curly waist-length hair from his face and kissed his cheek tenderly. "It is good to see you are safe. I don't wish to lose you to foolish bandits."

He kissed her palm softly, "even in my death you will not lose me My Lady, I shall follow you through time. Our souls are so deeply intwined, we shall me in the next life and everyone there after."

Cathain smiled down at him, "you should have been a bard, Milord." She swiftly made her way to the stable. Eisley was busy brushing down Drac with a soft bristle brush.

"How is he?"

"He shall persevere. I imagine Sir Ewan sent you down to check him yourself?"
"I thought I would thank him for saving my good friend." The great black steed nickered as she scratched his head and whispered in his ear. "Thank you, I do not know what I would do without your Master." Patting him on the shoulder she turned to Eisley, "take care of him."

"I will, Milady. You best hurry on now and save Sir Ewan from Coleen's constant doting."

Cathain laughed Coleen was not doubt fretting over Ewan, worrying him to no end. He did not like being fussed over. She was not surprised to find the stout little redhead smoothing down the covers nervously. "Coleen, why don't you fix a meat broth for Milord, I shall watchover him."

"Yes, Milady, I will get Eisley to bleed one of the cows and boil some blood with it, he'll need it to regain his strength."

Cathain heard a mumbled thanks as the heavy door closed. She chuckled lightly, "I am here if you need me."

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