Courteously, the ghost smiled, but this time said nothing. He couldn't, and I understood.
"One last thing." I added. "If we win, will we be allowed to walk free from this place? Can Napoleon's word be…trusted?"
Grimly, the poet shook his head, and the heart sank in my chest.
"No-one leaves the 9th Fortress," he said; "if you happen to succeed tomorrow, there are measures in place to prevent any escape."
"These measures?" Eddinray asked; but Virgil would reveal no more to us, and promptly vanished to whoever needed him most.
Subdued, I leant against the crooked window, searching the side of Eddinray's demoralised face.
"Defeat Napoleon." I said, simply. "Take him down and let me worry about the rest."
"How can I win against that man? I am not brave, Danny! I may wear the mask of a hero but it's not in my blood. I am not Kat!"
Angry, I took him by the arms and shook. I wanted him to see the confidence in my face now, to inspire some belief. "I remember hanging from a post in the wizard's stockade, so scared and alone. One night a man came to me with compassionate words and a sponge to clear the blood from my face. That was you Eddinray! Moments from being torn apart by the Scurge, and with no hope left, I watched you charge from that temple door, your sword held high toward two hundred bogs, a monster and a wizard. We fought a horde of rats side by side in the Labyrinth; you carried Harmony in your arms and saved Kat's life on the ice. Eddinray is in your blood now, and that guy is a hero!"
Suddenly and harshly, the knight embraced me in a constricting bear hug, and I heard the sniffles bubble from the end of his wet nose.
***
Napoleon finished his meal while Harmony waited for permission to leave the table.
"I see you have taken to the longbow?" he said, making her wait. "What made you decide upon such an…uncouth weapon?"
Geronimo's bow and quiver sat within Harmony's reach at the leg of the table, and she lowered her eyes to dream over them. "It belonged to a wise man.” she said. “I hoped my use of it might honor him; unfortunately it's as cumbersome as the clamp on my wings. It will take a very long time to master. But why ask Napoleon? Don't you already know everything?"
"Making conversation." he smiled. "That clamp…hurts me too, you know. That is one consequence I could not foresee, and will never forgive myself."
His tone was insincere, but Harmony appeared not to notice.
"You were right about me," she said, "earlier tonight. I was in awe of you back then. The early days especially, watching you fight for human rights during the revolution — you were inspiring, and I was captivated. Look at us now." she added, remorsefully.
"Marvellous, isn't it?" he said, oblivious to her feelings. "I have a good home here Harmony, but it is missing something vital, something I have wanted the moment I woke in the Waiting Plain those centuries ago."
"Don't say it. Please don't…"
"During my lifetime," he continued, "I had a taste but never fully appreciated the concepts of love and affection. I had to be struck by a divine beauty before my thoughts turned to it. Thoughts consumed by it. I want you Harmony Valour; I want you to be my wife."
"You cannot —" she gasped.
"Be serious?" he interrupted. "What can be more appropriate, nay, more natural than two soul-mates becoming one? The first union of its kind I'd wager, and no better place to celebrate it."
Gob-smacked, Harmony could barely express herself; but when she could, she did not hold back. "Napoleon you're asking me to throw away everything I know, to willingly embrace evil, to forsake my God and friends for this life of wickedness! Unthinkable! Impossible!"
Directly, a tactful Napoleon changed his game plan. "Of course." he huffed. "What am I thinking? You've been through so much my love. How can I expect you to consider my proposal at a time like this? Why, only this evening your trust was cruelly shattered by the nurse. How can you believe the words of another man? Indeed, how can your mind think clearly at all? What was I thinking?"
"Can we not mention Godwin?" she said, wincing. "I'm not sure yet…how I feel about that."
"Let us never discuss the Englishman." he replied, failing to conceal his relish. "I have many like him in my Fortress, liars who hoodwink others to feed their own egos, never an honest word leaves such conniving tongues."
Napoleon stood from his chair and crept toward her. Harmony watched his approach at the corner of her eye, heard the tapping of his shoes over tiles and felt his eventual breath warm the back of her neck.
"I promise you angel," he husked, caressing her face; "when we are married I will see that your companions are looked after; including the nurse. I see your fondness for him, I do, and it is completely understandable, given the yarns he spun you. They will all be made as comfortable as possible in their cells. You can even visit…on occasion."
"Why are you talking like this?" she mumbled, hiding under her hair. "I am sorry to hurt you Napoleon, so sorry, but I do not feel the same. I do love you but not that way. I…cannot."
"You will." he added; his arrogance and conviction incensing Harmony up from her chair.
"I won't!" she cried, shaking. "I will not! Furthermore I refuse your sick and blasphemous proposal! To think of you touching my skin…I despise the lunacy you stand for and will never betray my beliefs for it!"
Harmony was red faced, chest heaving, but a placid Napoleon seemed not to register it on his features. He did with his actions though, knocking the angel to the tiles with two slaps across her eye and lip.
Crumpled, Harmony held a rattling hand over her raw face. "We have made an arrangement." said Napoleon, examining new marks over his knuckles. "It would have been pleasant to pretend you had a choice in the matter…but alas. Tomorrow morning I will defeat the Englishman, and tomorrow night will be your first of many in my bedchamber. The first…of many. If that thought still repulses you then remember this fact, my beautiful life-support — the happier you make me, the easier I make eternity for your friends."
Lovingly, he sucked in the air as if inhaling another wonderful hit of tobacco. "And do take off that ridiculous bandanna," he added. "It really does not become you."
The Emperor then collected his glass of wine and left Harmony for the evening. Once alone, she crawled to the darkest spot under the dinner table, and there, she had her breakdown.
***
Kat cradled his wife in a cell, swimming in sewage. Rats ran over her bare feet and the maggots stuck like damp on the walls. Yuki Katamuro was a shell, her withered face blank as her dedicated husband clutched at her, mumbling encouragement, whispering memories and combing her hair through his fingers, anything to bring her back to him.
Kat was a picture of contentment. The man had achieved all his heart had ached for: he was reunited with his beloved, and nothing alive or dead, would dare take her away.
39. Duel
The courtyard was an area of flat sand with the four fortress walls enclosing. Napoleon's robotic hoods pressed their backs to those walls in side-by-side formation, and from the thousand windows above and around us, prisoners cheered in support for their warden.
"Bonaparte! Bonaparte! Bonaparte!"
Keeping close to each other in this cauldron, none of us asked Harmony to explain the bruise under her eye, or the disappearance of her bandanna No explanation was necessary.
"Bonaparte! Bonaparte! Bonaparte!"
"Why are they all for him?" I yelled. "I don't get it."
"They cheer for the hand that feeds them!" replied Napoleon, straddling a huffing black horse. "I promise you, spectators of my next tournament, will soon be doing the same!"
The Emperor was immaculately suited in medieval armor. His voice was strained under the burden of jangling mail and plates, but he didn't seem to mind. Smiling, Napoleon tangled the reins of his toothy charger around one arm, and with the other he held a long wooden lance — the tip as sharp as any spear.