The Making of Talulah Grey - Isolation

I've been in some tough scraps, but coming to terms with my responsibilities as a father of four gifted children is taking its toll, it seems my every waking and sleeping moment leads me to revisit the impact and introduction of Talulah Grey upon my family life, it's quite literally been a case of life or death from the beginning, my father made certain of that.

I awoke to find myself baking in the scorching sun, butt naked and staked out like a snow angel with arms and legs tethered to four posts, no doubt it wasn't a pretty sight. It wasn't as if my body was at its best, having been being badly and racked with pain the result of bad luck or bad timing that led to me getting caught up in the explosions and trapped by a half a ton of dead horse that rolled over me.

My first thoughts were that the Comancheros had stretched me out die in the sun a torturously slow and painful death devised by the Indian side of their ancestry, but to my surprise was spoken to by a woman.

"How can you still look so young, Rothschild?"

I tried to reply, but my tongue was dry and swollen and my lips resembled roast pork crackling, my feeble attempts to speak were met with a kick in the ribs and a bucket of water was poured slowly and deliberately over my face allowing me to drink and reduce the swelling.

"Now Rothschild, speak up whilst you still have a tongue."

Even in this condition, I was still able to reason that this woman had made the same mistake as the Mother Superior, mistaking me for my father, but how did she know him, would I benefit from telling her that I was his son? Another swift kick in the ribs soon made me realise I had no choice but to take the chance and blurted out my name.

"I'm Denver Barton, that bast***s exiled son."

"Well that's a relief, I thought you might be some sort of demon that I could not kill."

"How do you know that evil son of a bitch, it seems like my life is going to be plagued by the misery he has caused."

"Right now, that's none of your damn business and I'm the one asking questions, so why are you here wreaking havoc in the heart of Comanchero territory?"

"My father made me an offer I couldn't refuse, or he'd kill me and everyone I loved, if you know my father, you'll know he's a man of his word, the worthless piece of s***."

"Why would he do that to one of his, own flesh and blood?"

"Lady I don't know who you are, but I'm pretty sure you intend to kill, so rather than talk me to death do you think you could just get it over with."

"Listen, young man, when I'm done talking, you'll be first to know, so until then you just keep answering my questions, or I'm gonna start removing your accessories, do we understand each other?"

No, you listen, lady, I'm gonna tell you one more thing then I'm done.

"Son, you don't have anything to bargain with apart from your lips, so start chirping away and I'll decide when you've told me enough."

"Okay, okay, but could we compromise with another drink?"

A request to which she begrudgingly agreed, but this time she lifted my head to help me sip from a pottery dish and continued until I coughed and spluttered that's enough. For the first time, I felt some sense of compassion in the way that she held me. When seeing her face for the first time, it wasn't what I'd expected, her eyes were beautiful black pools filled with sadness, not anger, I no longer feared for my life.

I told her my own sad story of how I'd been blackmailed into collecting his treasure and delivering safely to my father, in exchange for the life of my family. And how when arriving at the Eagles Nest Convent we discovered that his treasure was the original name of his daughter my half-sister.

Before I could utter another word, her foot was resting on my chest and her gentle eyes were aflame and burning tears flowed as she asked.

"Is my Treasure safe?"

It was clear that if I gave the wrong answer this was only going to end one way.

"Yes, I assure you she is safe."

Removing her foot from my chest, she spoke.

"I was your father mistress and Treasure our love child who we'd taken to Eagles Nest, where she would be able to grow safely protected by the Nuns until we returned to collect her when a safe place for us all to live had been arranged. But he had deceived me and, on our way, back to the city he left me in the lifetime care as a slave to the Comanchero Band you raided, it appears with them he has some deep connection."

She paused and her foot returned to my chest as she wondered why I was raiding a Comanchero Band when Treasure was safe.

"Son I sense your time is running out, why are you here if my daughter is safe, where is she?"

"I assurrghhhhh."

The pressure of her foot stopped me from breathing.

"No more assurances, just the facts, I repeat. Where is she?"

"She's on her way to my Father, with the mercenaries that raided your village."

"But why are you here?"

"Before we reached the Eagles Nest it was ransacked by the Comancheros and its women and children brought to the village and Treasure was among them, that's who we came to rescue."

"Why did they leave you to die."

"They are mercenaries and once they'd gathered their treasure it was assumed, I was surplus to requirements, but if they tell my father the truth, I suspect they'll be in for a nasty surprise. Even though he hates me for smearing the family name he would consider it a personal insult for them to make such an assumption about a family member and I would expect them to return or he'd have them killed and send someone else to rescue me."

I don't know what I'd expected but after releasing me she became the mother I'd never had, tending my injuries and nursing me back to health, even sleeping by my side on the rocky floor to keep me warm during the cold winters nights that were soon to follow. We lived in caves and she fed me on scraps collected from village risking discovery and her own life at the hands of the Comancheros.

When Spring came and it was time for me to leave, she'd even stolen a horse for me to use and before departing I swore two oaths:

One vowing I would shelter and protect her daughter (my sister) with my life, and would never reveal to her that her mother was alive, believing it best for her prospects if she remained dead, I didn't agree, but a vow is a vow.

The other was that one day I would return and take her to safety ensuring the rest of her days were spent in freedom and comfort. And although she promised not to hold me to that as long as I kept the first, she was now my mother too and I would not fail her.

In the final moments before my departure, we hugged and cried like babies, I did not want to leave her but knew it would only work if I made this journey alone.

_____________________________

Once again my musings were broken with a ton of commotion, happening on board my ship. Annie's voice echoing down the hall calling for help, I soon learn something happened to Missy and I race to her side. 

Missy had been in mid-step around the foot of the bed, there were no arms in which to fall. The bed was a gift one she'd had specially made, a surprise to celebrate the union of Bart and Annie.

Married or not they were family too and she felt it fitting they should have a space they could truly call their own. It graced the centre of their new room, aboard the freshly refurbished Liberty Belle.

Missy faints and stumbles unintentionally knocking Annie to one side. She bangs her head heavily, on the bed's ornate carvings, whilst falling, she mumbles in distress, "They've hurt my baby."

Annie rushed to the bathroom cabinet searching for the salt of hartshorn.  Soon the smelling salts were bringing Missy around she awoke with a start and uttered the words, "I need Denver, our baby's in harm's way."

Gently resting Missy's head on a pillow Annie rushes out the door.  Calling out hysterically for help, Denver, Bart come quickly. Missy's had a fall. What strangeness is this, she thought. Little knowing that this was to be her first experience of the Denver women's empathic bond.

The Bart was busy on deck checking out eye-pleasing changes to The Liberty Belle had been transformed. Soon he was bumping clumsily into his father, as a result of their efforts to enter the room, they closely resemble a couple of Bar Room skittles.

Bart seemed surprised to find, his father was still the stronger of the two Denver easily manhandled him aside. He then performed an athletic slid and swept across the floor like he was dancing on ice. Arriving like an impassioned Prince boldly kneeling at the prostrate Missy's side.

Holding her gently in his arms whilst she stared into space. He recognized that transcendental state. He knew from experience all they could do was wait.

_____________

To her mind, Shadow spoke.

"Have no fear Mother,

Brett and I were out for a ride,

And were nearby when the outrage occurred,

When we arrived, she lay unconscious,

Fortunately, she was alive,

And was very quickly revived,

In her hand,

She held a scribbled note,"

To the trance,

She held fast,

It could not be broken,

Until Petra was beyond immediate danger.

"For now, she is safe although badly beaten,

But has stubbornly taken Brett's horse and charged off,

Intent on delivering a message from her assailants to Brandy Vine,

And is heading hell for leather toward Tent City."

"Brett grab one of the dead men's horses and get back to town,

I think they might struggle to understand a garbled empathic message."

"I'll follow that headstrong sister of ours,

She must truly love this guy, Buck."