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Part 1: The Escape

***
Cascading stars on the slumbering hills
They are dancing as far as the sea
Riding o'er the land, you can fee its gentle hand
Leading on to its destiny

Take me with you on this journey
Where the boundaries of time are now tossed
In Cathedrals of the forest
In the words of the tongues now lost.

***

Prison.

Dark, loathsome, filthy, foul-smelling...of all the detestable =
descriptions that suited this prison, Angel hated 'dark' the most. =
After a few years in this foreign prison, it felt as if he belonged to =
this dark place, no longer accustomed to light. He belonged here, to =
this darkness.

And oh yes, the fact that they were confined here for their entire lives =
did increase the degree of abhorrence he felt about the place.

"Angel..."

"Do not speak," Angel answered hastily. He didn't want his friend to =
waste his energy for nothing.

"Angel...It is futile for me..."

Angel was angry at the hopelessness of the situation, angry with himself =
for his foolishness to join the Crusade from the first place, but he =
wasn't about to reveal that to his dying friend. "I said, do not speak, =
Doyle." =20

Doyle chuckled, "Stubborn to the end, lad? Do not put on a brave face =
for me, my friend. I know you."

Their quiet conversation came to a halt with loud footsteps that =
undoubtedly belonged to the guards.=20

"You. Out." The cruelest of all the guards pointed at Doyle and that =
instantly alerted Angel.=20

Angel asked, standing between the guards and his friend, "What is the =
problem?"

The only answer he got was a kick in his leg.

"You thief." Two other guards dragged Doyle up, "You stole the food."

"That is nonsense. He's not a man to do such a thing. And he can scarce =
move," Angel protested, attempting to control his anger.

"Ah, then there's no use for a crippled man in this place, is there?" =
The guard smiled, no doubt thinking of all the diabolical things that =
could be done to Doyle. "The punishment for a thief is the loss of his =
thieving hand."
=20
Hell. =20

At the same moment, Angel and Doyle both looked down at Doyle's =
bleeding, wounded hands. Angel was horrified, but Doyle did not lose =
his composure.=20

"If you believe I have thieved, then I must have," Doyle answered =
calmly, looking directly at the guard.

For a second, the guard looked unnerved. However, he smiled his oily =
smile and motioned the others. "Take him."

"No! Stop!" Angel wouldn't let anything harm his friend. He stood up =
straight, his chin high. "I will take his place."=20

"Angel!" Doyle's eyes became wide with horror and the guards laughed =
away. =20

The guard sneered, "You're a fool. Only a fool wishes to lose his =
hands."

"That may be." Angel grinned, "However, only a fool would wish to =
interfere with the other's problem. It is my problem if I wish to lose =
my hands, is it not?"

The guard instantly frowned with anger. "I will see if you're smiling =
when your hands are severed from your arms. Take him as well!"

"No," Doyle resisted the guards, but his injuries were preventing him =
from even walking properly. Angel and Doyle were both led outside, a =
wide-open place where tortures and executions took place. =20

The moon was out, but the clouds were blocking what light it gave. And =
with the mist that was shadowing everything, it was hard to recognize =
even his own feet. =20

Perfect.
=20
"Have you lost your mind?" Doyle whispered angrily, "You do not need to =
protect me. It is not your place."

"Yes, it is. I have made my promise to your sister that I'd bring you in =
one piece." At the mention of his little sister, Doyle winced, =
remembering his baby sister and his fianc=E9e, Maiden Cordelia--the =
loved ones he might never see again.

"Now, be quiet. I need to think." Angel looked at the dark forest not so =
far away from this place. This was it. His only--and probably the =
last--chance. And he was ready to take it.

Now or never.

"Make his friend watch." A guard pinned down Doyle who was struggling to =
break free. However, Doyle was too weak and his resistance was futile =
against the strong arms of the guard.

"His hand." A guard pushed Angel's shoulders down, so he'd be kneeling =
down in front of a large panel. Another guard took his right hand and =
put it on the panel, binding it with a tight rope. "Should we gag him?"

"I do not need a gag," Angel snapped with disgust.

"Then we'll enjoy your scream," the guard laughed then glared at Angel. =
"Cut his hand."

Doyle gasped as a man brought out a long sword that had been dangling at =
his side. Angel, expressionless, watched as the sword descended on his =
wrist.

"Angel!"

Just before the sword touched his wrist, he released the end of the rope =
that tied his hand, which he'd been clenching tightly with his fingers. =
Then as the sword hit the panel, he rolled his hand--which was possible =
now with the rope loosened--out of the way and pulled the rope, so it'd =
be cut by the sharp edge of the sword. At the same time, he punched the =
guard behind him using his left elbow and once his right hand was freed, =
caught the wrist of the guard with the sword and pushed him, taking the =
sword.

While the guards were confused, Doyle realized what Angel was attempting =
to do and kicked the knee of the guard who'd pinned him down with what =
strength that was left in him.

"Doyle!" Angel threw him the sword and Doyle caught it reflexively, the =
moves from the battles still present in his weak body. Seeing Doyle on =
his feet, Angel attacked the remaining two guards, disarming them in an =
instant.

"Go, go, go!" Angel pushed Doyle into the forest, assisting him to run =
faster.

"Next time," Doyle said between his labored breaths, "If you'd like to =
play hero, inform me first."

Angel looked back once and concentrated on the way into the woods. The =
guards would catch up with them soon. "I was only improvising."

"Ah, great. Improvising..." Doyle was slowing down. He was in no =
condition to run, let alone walk.

Loud noises roamed the woods. The guards.

"They are coming," Doyle said gravely.

"Then you must run fast," Angel rushed, considering the option of just =
carrying Doyle. Then he felt something sharp brushing past his cheek.

An arrow. Oh hell...

"Doyle. No time. I'll carry..." Angel suddenly noticed the pained =
expression on Doyle's face. God, please, god, no.

"Hey, lad..." Doyle smiled faintly as he fell. "I believe...the end has =
come for me..."

"Doyle=85" Angel hovered down over his friend, frantically looking for =
the wound. He found an arrow on his back. "Oh sweet Jesus..."

"Angel, you must go," Doyle spoke with great pain, noticing the sounds =
of the pursuers getting louder.

"Hell I do." Angel attempted to lift Doyle. "You must help me. I will =
carry you myself."

Doyle smiled calmly. "Always stubborn, even to the end. There's no hope =
for me, my friend."

Angel wanted to deny the truth. "Do not speak nonsense. Hurry! You =
must help me."

Doyle grabbed Angel's hand tightly. "Tell Cordelia...that...I thought of =
her till the end."

Angel's face was hardened. "You tell her that yourself. I'd do no such =
thing. Now hurry!""

Doyle only squeezed his hand tighter. "My baby sister, Willow. She's =
young and knows nothing of the world. Now without me, she's lost. Give =
me your word that you'll take care of her."

"Doyle..I.."

"PROMISE ME!" Doyle choked out the words while tugging at Angel's dirty =
shirt, "There's no time. Promise me Angel, that you'll see to my little =
sister."

Angel shook out the tears that threatened to blind him. "I will. I =
promise."

Doyle watched Angel intensely for a second, then hugged him tightly. "It =
was an honor to know you, my friend."

Angel felt extreme pain in his chest. "I shall miss you."

Another arrow hit the tree beside Angel. Doyle looked up. "Now, go."

Angel stood up and looked at his determined friend. Even with the =
promise he'd made, he could not abandon his friend.

Doyle grabbed the sword they'd taken from one of the guards. "Go now, =
Angel, my death will be worth something only if you live." Doyle's dark =
eyes penetrated Angel's. He'd made up his mind.

"Doyle..."

"Go before I curse you to hell! GO!" Doyle pushed Angel hard, and with a =
strength he'd not known he'd possessed, ran forward to the approaching =
groups of people.

"DOYLE!!" Angel screamed but Doyle only kept running forward. Angel =
cried out at himself for his cowardice, but there was the promise to =
keep. He could not let Doyle's sacrifice be wasted. He painfully willed =
himself to move and his feet to run, run to where the freedom lay.

Doyle only glanced at his back once, whispering to the back of the =
disappearing form of his friend. "Farewell, my friend. May God be with =
you."

Doyle could now see the torches the pursuers carried moving closer to =
him. He smiled.

Now he would show who the real hero was.

****

Cast your eyes into the ocean
Cast your soul into the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me...

****
A month later...
 

Light.

He was in the light.

Angel jumped off the small boat that had taken him from the ship and =
step on the land he'd longed to smell again.=20

He was home.

Looking back at the ocean, he cast a handful of soil to the water, =
remembering his friend. "Farewell, my friend. May God be with you now."

Now he'd go back to his father and ask for his forgiveness. He needed =
to confess how foolish he'd been to join the Crusade as an act of =
rebellion with Doyle all because Angel had fallen in love with a servant =
girl his father had not approve of. And he also had a promise to keep. =
Doyle's sister. An image of a young, innocent red-haired girl with =
emerald green eyes lingered on his mind. He'd ask for her forgiveness =
as well.

He looked at the land and the woods that were unfolded before him.

Angel of Locksley. He was home.
 

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Lyrics from:
--'Night Ride Across the Caucasus' and 'Dante's Prayer' by Loreena =
Mckennitt
 
 

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