Gilleana's Tale -- Volume 3

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Gilleana prepared to open the door with a feeling a trepidation.  Missa had told her what to expect.  Missa, who she trusted, came as an envoy to prepare the way for this man, this person who was partly responsible for the destruction of their world.  Gilleana smiled ruefully to herself, recalling Missa carefully removing all of her swords, hammers, and battle axes.  It was an unnecessary act, though Gilleana could understand the concern.  Never had Gilleana reacted in haste, she planned for the long term.  This ... Jubaal ... was in no immediate danger from her.  Nor was she sneaky in her retribution.  If retribution were to come, it would be in the open following all the rules of honorable combat.  She did wonder, though, at Missa's obvious concern for the well-being of this stranger and that, as much as anything, had piqued her curiosity at what the man might have to say.

Gilleana could never afterwards recall the nightmarish trip from her family home to the Freeport Youth Camp.  She had carefully memorized the names of the raiders, but could never recall them individually.  But in the first days and weeks of her captivity, she had created an imaginary guardian angel to look over her.  As she grew older she could never recall how she had come to create this particular image: a guardian angel of chocolate colored skin, with dark hair and eyes.  She had never questioned it until this very moment, for the eyes looking at her from this stranger's face, this stranger come to seek atonement for his crimes, were very similar to those the child she had been had created for herself, to bring comfort when her world was at its bleakest. 

The two, vanquisher and vanquished, raider and captive, stood without moving for several long minutes.  Gilleana's pale skin nearly translucent with the shock she was experiencing, though nothing in her bearing betrayed her inner turmoil.  Jubaal, was equally set aback by the blazing green eyes that had haunted his nightmares in the years since he had last seen them in the face of defiant half-elf child.  Gilleana blocked the door and Jubaal wondered for a despairing moment if she was going to give him the hearing he so hoped would be granted, then she stepped aside and motioned him through into her home.

Despite the countless hours he had played this meeting through in his mind, Jubaal found himself at a loss for words when faced with the person he had so wronged.  That single act had changed the entire course of his life as well as hers.  It had caused him to leave the militia, which he had believed he would serve with pride.  He had drifted aimlessly with various mercenary groups for years until he had learned of the Overlord's plans to use the small kerran and ratongan villages in the Commonlands to divert the orcish forces building against them.  Unable to bear knowing of this and doing nothing, Jubaal had acted to halt the scheme.  He had been caught and nearly killed, but for the intervention of Haven scouts.  Now faced with Gilleana and the enormity of that earlier wrong, Jubaal's strength gave out and he sank to his knees before her.  Maintaining his composure with great effort, he gazed at Gilleana's pale face.

"I have wronged you, lady.  I come to you seeking forgiveness or, if forgiveness is not to be had, to offer you my life, if that is what you need to right the balance between us."  Dark eyes gazed beseechingly up into eyes as cold as chipped emeralds.  "I cannot justify what happened, I cannot take away the pain that I was partly responsible for causing to you and yours.  Ask anything you want of me, and I will do it even unto my death if that is your wish.  I place myself wholly at your service."

Despite herself, Gilleana trusted this person's words and actions to be truthful and she saw why Missa had agreed to smooth his path.  "Tell me" she said, "and do not lie.  What was your role in bringing about the deaths of my father and my mother."  Standing tense and straight, she stared at the man before her, unexpectedly dreading what his words might reveal.

"I dreamed of being in the militia when I was a boy, you know."  He said, his voice deep and sorrowful.  "I thought it was noble to protect Freeport, which was my home after all.  My family had served our city for generations before Lucan came to power.  At fifteen I enlisted and became a defiler."

"I had served in the militia for two years as healer when the raid force I was part of was sent on a mission to scout and burn any encroachments on what was deemed by the Overlord to be Freeport soil.  You have to realize that I was raised to think of Qeynos as bad and your city's citizens as somehow less than Freeport's citizens.  Still, I felt sick to my stomach throughout the entire raid and never sicker than during the attacks on small farms like your family's home."

"You talk and talk, but you do not answer my question."  Gilleana's eyes blazed and her voice was thick with emotion.  "Did you kill my father or my mother?"

"No, Gilleana.  I swear to you I did not.  I was healer.  I did not kill your parents.  Nor was it my decision to take you into Freeport custody or to turn you over to the Freeport Youth Camp.  The Captain ordered it and his orders were obeyed."  Jubaal's dark eyes glistened with unshed tears as he gazed at the stern figure before him, praying that she would believe him.

"You were so brave ... so small and shouting your defiance at the armed men towering over you.  It struck me immediately how wrong we were, to be there.  How wrong I was to follow the Captain's orders.  I was a coward, Gilleana.  I admit it.  I was more afraid of what would happen if I disobeyed than I was shamed to be a part of it.  The shame came later." 

"The Captain forgot about you pretty much immediately after the order was given.  His Sergeant slung you behind his saddle like so much produce.  As soon as a halt was called, I did what I could to make your capture easier.  I got you bedding, made sure you were given food and drink, carried you on my own horse so you would not be unnecessarily harmed.  It was not enough, I know, but it was all I was man enough to offer at the time.  I am so sorry, Gilleana."

A single tear slid down Gilleana's cheek as she gazed at the head bent before her.  She had no memory of the trip he was describing, yet she did not doubt that it was his ministrations during that time that had formed the basis for her imaginary protector in later days.  Her will softened, but as she felt her anger begin to drain away, she called it back, a cloak she had worn for too many years to cast aside so easily.

"For your part in the raid that cost my family their lives and me my home, I forgive you."  Gilleana's voice trembled, but she held firm on her course.  "I will not kill you or seek other retribution, in thanks for your assistance to me and as acknowledgment that you do not now appear to be the person you were then.  But I do not wish to ever see you again." 

Jubaal gasped in pain as the small woman turned and left the room.  It was, he acknowledged to himself, more than he had deserved.  But it left him with the unfulfilled yearning to do something to right the scales between them.  "Please lady," he murmured, but she heard and stopped, turning to face him once again.  "Please take something from me that I can atone for what I have done.  Please."  Jubaal pulled his dagger from his waistband, handing it to her hilt first.  "Take this."  He begged her.  "Take this and take my life if it brings you peace."

Gilleana gazed at him, the anger all at once gone, replaced by bone-deep weariness.  "I do take your life."  She said sadly.  "But I do not kill you.  If you want to atone for what you did to me, serve Qeynos and protect other children being torn from their homes.  Just don't come back into my presence, ever again.  Your face cuts my heart like a knife."  With that, Gilleana left Jubaal alone, retiring to her room to pray and reflect, and perhaps to allow herself the luxury of tears, in private.

Jubaal, also rose and left the home, dedicated to carrying out Gilleana's command.  He prepared himself to take that first step, to do all that he could to prove to Qeynos that he could be trusted with the right to citizenship in the land of his former enemies.

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