As Spock waited throughout the long night he came to the
conclusion that he no longer thought of himself as Vanyar. The
name - Spock - seemed to suit him better. He worried over Kirk
and now regretted having let him go to the outpost. Anything
could have happened. At one point he questioned his concern over
the human's welfare but knew the answer lay deep in his mind.
There was that sure knowledge, which transcended all doubts, that
told him Kirk was his friend.
Bondbrother. T'hy'la. A word with shades of meaning that Spock
could not quite comprehend.
After a time he left the relative warmth of his tent to brave the cold night air. A hooded cloak, of thick wool, warmed him as he stared up at the unfamiliar sky. The stars were out in a glorious display. He did not understand the fascination they held for him but the sight comforted him. Gorvus said that many of the gods lived there. Spock was sceptical of that belief but he had said nothing.
An hour before dawn, the druid approached. "It does not look like your servant will return."
"If he does not, it is because he cannot," Spock replied.
"Wurguist believes he will not. Our scouts intercepted couriers leaving the fort for help."
Spock stood up and gave the druid a piercing stare. "Is that the reason Wurguist sent Kirk to the outpost? Knowing he would be held in custody and unable to return?" It had all become clear. "Wurguist has never wanted Jim alive. This was an excuse to be rid of him. What of you, Gorvus? Do you want him dead also? Will you sacrifice him to your gods?"
Gorvus lowered his eyes. "Even if Kirk has reneged on his word, I see no reason to kill him. My lord, I am a priest. I perform sacrifices but only when the gods demand it. Wurguist cannot overrule me on this."
"Then he will find another way. If Kirk is found you will help me save his life." Again Spock remembered Jim's words.
We are t'hy'la - bondbrothers.
"T'hy'la," he murmured. The word calmed him. He wondered why it had such an effect.
After a few more minutes Spock returned to his tent, gathered his belongings, including Kirk's satchel, then left to join the assembling men.
* * *
After a long and bloody fight the outpost fell to the Pict army. The victors swarmed through it and, mindful of Spock's presence, took further prisoners but many lives had been lost that day. A defeated but still defiant Vettius Severus was brought to Wurguist. On seeing Spock, the Roman backed away in fright. "The gods protect us," he whispered, his eyes wide.
"Where is the emissary we sent?" Wurguist asked, holding his sword to the Roman's throat.
"In the cells," Severus answered. "Did you think I would surrender without a fight?"
Spock did not hesitate. He found his way to the prison building and ran in. Sitting in a corner of a dark and grimy cell, was Kirk. Spock grabbed the keys, opened the door and helped the injured man outside. There in the light of day Spock could see the livid bruises and roughly bandaged cuts on his friend's body. "Come, I will tend you," he demanded.
"Wait." Wurguist stood in front of them. "Why did you not return, Roman?"
Kirk held onto Spock for support. "They wouldn't contemplate surrender. I told you that. They took exception to the messenger and tossed me in a cell."
"You were told what would happen if you failed to come back," Wurguist persisted.
Spock stepped in front of Kirk. "This man is my servant. You do not have permission to touch him. Step out of my way."
Gorvus drew near them. "Lord Vanyar is right. You have no rights over his servant." He leaned closer to Wurguist. "I would advise not making an enemy of one so powerful." Spock raised himself to his full height and subjected the Pict leader to a glare he had discovered would stop anyone in their tracks. It had the required effect for Wurguist bowed and hurried away.
"I will treat your friend," Gorvus said.
Spock shook his head. "He is my responsibility. Attend the other casualties."
Kirk whistled softly as Gorvus obeyed. "Your intimidation factor is working on all thrusters."
Spock shot him a severe glance. Kirk flinched, became very quiet, and allowed himself to be escorted to Severus' now empty quarters.
* * *
As Spock bathed my injuries, I sat on top of a table in silence wondering if I dared speak. When he was in this mood it was difficult to get him to listen to me. Well, I couldn't complain. He had stopped Wurguist from killing me and Gorvus had backed him. Wurguist was displeased, to say the least. For some reason he had disliked me from the start and couldn't get over his suspicion of me.
A movement caught my attention and I tensed until realising that Gorvus stood in the doorway. He held a clay bowl out. "Lord Vanyar, forgive the interruption but I bring salve for Kirk's wounds."
"Leave it," Spock said without turning.
Gorvus rushed away. He wasn't wasting any time hanging around. Can't say I blamed him. Spock's long hair brushed my knee as he bent to clean a cut on my leg. "You should tie that back," I suggested, immediately regretting it as he looked up and regarded me with an unblinking stare.
"Logical and practical," Spock said as he returned to his task. "Tell me where you are in pain."
"I'm bruised everywhere," I said, relieved by his response. "I fought with too many Roman soldiers. Lucky that Severus believed I was on a mission for the emperor or I'd be dead by now."
He finished with what he was doing then examined me like a doctor would. His hands were gentle and there was little pain. I could just about sense the healing energy from his fingertips and sighed with blessed relief when a particularly nasty bruise stopped hurting so much.
"Spock, healing is tiring for you. There's nothing serious wrong with me. I can use the medicines in my carryall. I don't want you to exhaust yourself."
"Be silent," he responded.
Damn. He's being stubborn again. I braced myself. "Spock, I'm all right. Honest."
"You are my responsibility. You are hurt. I shall tend you." His eyes were as black as flint. I'd rarely seen them so dark. If the link was working at this point and he shot unrestrained anger out at me, I'd probably collapse. At times he could be so damn formidable.
"Spock," I tried. Was I being foolish or brave? I didn't know.
"Silence," he ordered and pushed me, none too gently, to lie back while he dealt with the bruises on my chest. With a sudden jolt, my perception shifted and I found myself in another of Spock's flashbacks. I squirmed with mortification as I relived the unpleasant scene.
"Silence," I hissed at Kirk.
I was angry with him. I could not, and did not want to prevent it from reaching him through the bond. The pain caused him to shiver. His eyes were wide with shock as I sent a further furious blast at him before turning away. I dealt with removing Stonn, who had wanted to remain in command of the ship, then called a security officer to the bridge. Kirk was horrified when he realised I was going to have him arrested for insubordination. This was an extreme measure but I was clearly not thinking straight. I only knew that it was imperative to re-establish my command and would not tolerate anyone questioning me. Not even my own bondbrother.
"Mr. Spock," he tried to reason with me.
"You will be silent," I ordered.
Sweat broke out on his face and his fear was only too palpable. Then all the rebellion seemed to drain out of him. He bent his head in acceptance and meekly held out his wrists to be locked in stasis cuffs.
As I relived this fairly recent incident, I began to tremble. I never wanted that kind of fury directed at me again. Spock stumbled back and his face was drawn. He closed his eyes and I could see him trying to find some semblance of calm.
"It worked out all right," I said. "You forgave me. Our friendship became stronger because of what happened."
His eyes opened and were now almost back to normal. "I do not remember." He swallowed and I could tell he was upset.
"Spock," I said, holding out my hand. My sympathy for his plight was intense. He matched the movement and our fingertips touched. There was a faint tingle; an echo of his telepathic power struggling to emerge. "Give it time."
"What is the significance of this?" he asked.
"It's a gesture between family and close friends. Sometimes we were able to communicate this way. Don't you recall the night before I left for this outpost, it started off another flashback?" He didn't answer. He lowered his hand and disappointed over another lost opportunity I continued, "C'mon, you were playing healer."
He looked down at me then almost smiled. "Our friendship was... is unique."
"It is indeed, Spock," I said, grateful he could at least see that.
At last Spock permitted me to check myself out with the tricorder. He had done most of the work so I needed little in the way of medicine. His tense shoulders relaxed as he realised that I was not in any danger. Even through his amnesia he had not lost his concern over my welfare. That knowledge warmed me.
Later we were summoned to the main hall where Wurguist was holding council. The leader's eyes narrowed when he saw me but other than that did not acknowledge my presence. We sat down and ate the Romans' food and I listened to the plan for taking the large fort. I could not see it working. Even if most of the occupants were away, it wouldn't be an easy task, for enough men had been left behind to defend it. Also getting past those ramparts and gates would be difficult.
My opinion wasn't asked and I didn't volunteer any information. I wondered, though, how soon we could get away from the Picts and find some place where I might work on restoring Spock's memory. His flashbacks were vivid. One day he would retain them. I didn't know when, and if, the T'Varon would return so I had to find a way to help Spock without medical back-up.
Once the meal was over we returned to the outpost commander's quarters. Well at least the Picts showed Spock proper respect by giving him the best rooms although I didn't know what they wanted from him, apart from showing him off as some kind of mascot. Wurguist didn't approve of Spock's pacifist views although he tried, not always with success, to control his men's blood lust and treated his prisoners humanely.
Sitting on the floor by the warmth of the fire, with Spock relaxing on a chair nearby, I could almost believe we were on shore-leave instead of in the middle of a war zone. I glanced up to see him basking in the heat like some big cat. Not for the first time I thought how those ears certainly fitted that impression. His eyes met mine and he raised an eyebrow. I wondered if he had caught my thoughts. Right now his psi-powers were erratic, to say the least.
"Can I check out your head injuries?" I indicated the carryall.
He nodded his permission and I retrieved the tricorder and scanned him. "The bruising has almost gone." I looked him in the face. "It's difficult to tell what damage has been done to your telepathy. Obviously the head trauma caused some kind of shortout. You need to be seen by a Vulcan healer. Only an expert in the Vulcan brain can really tell what's happened to you. The T'Varon will be looking for us once they've dispatched the Irzae. I think our best chance of being found is near the obelisk." I took a swift breath. I had finally broached the subject. I didn't mention the communicator. I could get a message out at this distance from the clearing but there was that prohibition on using it in case the signal was intercepted by the Irzae and brought some of their fleet back to the planet. The ship would contact me when it was safe.
"You wish us to leave the army?" he asked.
"Yes. We must. We don't belong here, Spock. Captain T'Zen - maybe you remember her - allowed me to search for you while the ship engaged the Irzae. She said she would return for us as soon as possible. The first place they'll look is the clearing. We need to be there." I didn't know how well the T'Varon's scanners or communications net would work faced with the amount of power being generated from the obelisk. Before I had left, increasing interference was affecting almost every instrument on the ship. If the transporters were still unaffected then beaming down to the clearing was the logical course of action. If not there were always the shuttlecrafts.
"T'Zen," he said slowly as if from far away. "My father's sister."
I was startled. Sure I had noted some resemblance but had not realised that the family relationship was so close. "Do you remember anything else, Spock?"
"Negative," he replied after a long moment. "Jim, there is much you are not telling me. Why?"
"I wanted you to remember as much as possible on your own."
"You will tell me now," he said.
"Will you accept that what I'm saying is the truth?" I asked.
He smiled a little and nodded. "I trust you, Jim."
I returned the smile, pleased by his faith in me, and began, "You are first officer on board the T'Varon, a starship of the Vulcan fleet. I'm the second officer. We were sent to investigate... "
A sudden clap of thunder drowned out my voice. Lightning followed then a howling gust of wind blew the drapes down and the room became flooded with light. I dived over to the window. Spock followed me and we watched as sheets of rain began to fall. The frightened shouts of men reached us before being lost in the roar of a tremendous thunderclap.
"This is odd," I yelled. "Now it's starting to snow. I don't think this is natural weather, Spock." I replaced the window covering. It didn't keep out much of the cold but was better than nothing.
"What do you believe is the cause?" Spock asked.
"The obelisk has immense power. Enough, maybe, to affect the weather. If it's responding to the Irzae fleet then that could mean the T'Varon's in deep trouble, maybe even defeated. We've got to get back to that clearing and stop whatever's happening. We have to protect this planet, Spock."
"Why was the T'Varon sent here?" he asked. "You called her a starship?"
"Yes. A ship which sails between the stars not the seas. The Irzae attacked the obelisk and set off its alarm, a message that we believe is being transmitted to its makers. Your mission was to get inside it and, if possible, reprogram its controls and silence it."
"Fascinating. Although aware I did not belong to this culture, I did not suspect that I was alien to this world. Will I be able to reprogram the controls? I cannot remember what a computer is."
I grinned with delight. "I didn't mention the word computer. You did. Yes you can do what's necessary," I said. "You're a computer expert."
Hailstones thudded against the roof and I couldn't hear his response. The building shook and I clutched at a chair for support. We were getting earth tremors now! This was becoming even more urgent. We needed to get to that clearing and fast. The trouble was, from here I had little idea how to find it. There were several more tremors then the extreme weather began to ease. I was about to continue our discussion when a group of men rushed into the room. Before I could respond or defend myself, my hands were bound behind my back.
"What's going on?" I yelled.
Spock's expression was full of menace. "By what right do you bind my servant?"
Wurguist stepped back but he was adamant as he said, "The gods are angry. Taranus, the thunder-lord, demands sacrifice. This stranger, Kirk, will appease him."
Spock was about to speak when Gorvus intervened, "My lord, Wurguist speaks true. Taranus the thunder god has given us a sign. He has spoken to me. He bids us go to his temple. There he will accept sacrifice."
I tried to send a silent message to Spock. They meant the obelisk, I was sure of it; exactly where we wanted to go. He hesitated. Both brows raised, he stared at me before returning his attention to the druid.
"Very well. We will go to the temple but Kirk is my servant. It is my right to kill him." He glared at Gorvus. "Do you object?"
The druid bowed. "It is irregular but these times are unusual. I will speak to the god. If he permits I will submit to your wishes, my lord."
I didn't know whether to be relieved or not. I was still under sentence of death but if Spock meant what he said then I resigned myself to the fact that if I was to be sacrificed then Spock be permitted to do it. Better to die at his hands than by these others. Tal Shaya. Quick and painless. However, I was almost certain that he would not go against his nature.
Despite his amnesia, our friendship had flowered. He had been concerned over my injuries. He knew that our relationship was unique. He would play along with their religious beliefs but he would not kill me. I took comfort from that as I was bundled out of the room and into the icy air.
***