Willravel

Kings 2x01: "The Valley of the Shadow"

It was an unusually warm evening in Gath. Winter showers were giving way to the first days of Spring. The barricades in the road were rusted by the difficult winter. David leaned against one for a moment to catch his breath. It felt cold and moist, bringing back memories of working on the farm. How long ago that seemed now. He shook off the nostalgia. There wasn't much time to rest.

The road he traveled could, at any moment, be overrun with Gilboan military, desperately searching for the man who physically accosted their beloved king. His beloved king? He moved on, heading away from the only home he'd ever known.

The road seemed abandoned, but it seemed prudent to stay on paths beside the road just in case there was need to hide. Boredom kept pulling David to thoughts that made him feel sick. Michele was left behind. His mother was left behind. Chaos was left behind. And the reverend...

"David Shepherd, son of Jesse, son of Judah, know this: you were chosen to be the new king." The words rang in his soul, deeper than anything ever said or saw. David was given God's favor, but found himself even deeper in doubt than ever before.

The unwelcome preoccupations in David's mind had managed to allow the time to pass quickly. In no time, he had covered many miles, and was now well past the border. It had occurred to David that he had no place in the strange land, but he continued on. Soon thoughts of Michele and life in Shiloh were replaced by thoughts of the road ahead. Was he looking for a sign? Had he missed one? Were the signs really real?

A shape appeared over the hill ahead of him. He quickly moved to the side of the road and moved into a thicket. The shape soon became a military transport. Then another. And another. As each transport passed, David watched as Gath troops were being moved toward the border. Gath was much more militaristic than Gilboa had become. It wasn't uncommon for Gath to be refereed to more as a military than a government in some circles in Shiloh. Once the troops had passed, David started back toward the road.

Suddenly there was a hissing sound. David froze. He had unknowingly stepped very near an asp, a snake that carried with it dangerous venom. He slowly moved his hand to his back and retrieved his gun. He stopped. What if the Gath soldiers hear the gunshot? They were still in sight, maybe 3/4 a mile down the road. He slowly drew the weapon, aimed and prepared to fire.

He moved his index finger to the trigger and started to squeeze when he saw a shadow above him. He looked up to see a single sparrow fly down and land on the head of the snake. The snake relaxed and the sparrow jumped off and landed next to it. The asp slowly slithered away and David holstered his gun, taking a deep sigh of relief.

The sparrow looked further down the road for a moment and then took flight moving further north, along David's path.

Just up the road was a small tavern. David managed to get a hold of some Gath currency on his way out of Shiloh. He pulled it from his pocket and counted it. "Only fifteen Bah," he said out loud. It was maybe enough for a warm meal and one night's stay at a cheap motel in Gilboa, but in Gath it could sustain him for maybe a week. He pulled up his collar and walked in, hoping against all odds that no one would recognize him.


"We've had a dark night in our fair Gilboa. My enemies... our enemies had their hands at our throats, but you did not waver. On this spot four months ago I asked for your trust, but you gave me more. You gave me your faith. Your faith and the favor of God himself drove me from the brink of death, back into my role as your king. I must ask you for further faith now, as I put our nation back on its path. The path of righteousness. I am forever humbled by the honor of serving you."

Silas looked over the crowd, over the armed riot police surrounding them. The crowd was unusually small, but that was to be expected after such a tumultuous time. They thought he was dead.
"Have faith, Gilboa. Have faith in your king."


As Silas walked from the podium to the sound of uninspired applause, he caught site of his queen. Rose had looked ill for weeks, ever since the trial of David Shepherd. Silas brushed it off as stress before, but caught himself wondering if there wasn't something she was hiding from him. He continued on. Forsythe was babbling in his ear about this and that, how Crossgen's takeover of UNN meant that getting his speeches broadcast would become more and more difficult.

"Tell them if they want to operate in my country, they'll allow the people to hear what it is I have to say. I'll hear nothing else of it."

Thomasina rounded the corner and caught the king's eye. "We've not been able to locate Cross or Shepherd, Sir, I..."

"We don't discuss that in the open." Nothing else needed to be said. Thaomsina looked down, trying more than anything not to judge her king. He was a great man, I owe him my life, she thought. The ideas seemed to become more and more shallow as time went on.

Forsythe continued on, "The new energy initiative is draining the DoE accounts. We're going to need another seventy to eighty million from the reserves to cover the cost of completing the geothermal plant. Also..." he hesitated, "there's a riot at the solar array building site."

Silas stopped in his tracks, fire burning in his eyes. "Damn them," he said under his breath. "Damn them for forcing me to do this." He ordered the second infantry unit to quell the riot, temporarily cooling his temper.


The royal residence had always seemed a cold place to Jack, but in tandem with his living under guard without the freedom to leave, to love, it was seeming more and more like a dungeon. The freezing stone floors of his room meant staying mostly in bed or at his desk for over a week now, with no end in sight. His ambitions at king had nearly lead to patricide, and then to becoming a puppet boy-king. It all seemed so stupid now. He should have done it on his own. He should have stood for himself and loved his country more purely, purely like David. He should have stood up for Joseph instead of forsaking him.

Joseph, Jack thought. Joseph, I need you. Just then the door opened. Lucinda was smiling meekly at the guards, a clear sign that she still felt subservient in her role as fiancee to the prince. She walked in quickly, nervously, but warmed as soon as her eyes met Jacks'. Jack's torture wouldn't be complete without feeling love he could never hope to reciprocate.

"I'm here for anything you need," she said with absolute truth in her voice. Jack was finding her more and more difficult to simply pity. Not only did she have her uses—she'd snuck him an unlisted mobile phone—but she was making strides in becoming more articulate, more intelligent even. She continued, "I've not been able to figure out a way to get you a computer, but I swear I'll figure something out. I don't want you to feel alone." She kissed him on the cheek.

"Don't... don't take any unnecessary risks. My father wouldn't have any reason not to make you disappear should you be discovered. I'll be fine with the TV and the..." he gestured to his pocket, which housed the phone. "Just sit with me a while."

They both moved over to the window sill, the only truly warm place in the room, and sat. The people below, walking through the courtyard with such purpose, seemed a million miles away from Jack. Lucinda put her arm around Jack's stomach from behind him and leaned her head against his back.

So this is hopelessness, Jack thought. His eyes wandered aimlessly across the grass to the trees. He thought he'd seen a familiar face for a second, so he focused. There was a figure behind an oak tree. Jack squinted and leaned forward. The figure moved out from behind the tree and Jack stopped breathing.

Joseph....


Joseph's appearance struck Jack to his very core. He managed to catch his breath before passing out. Lucinda noticed the change, "Are you okay? You seem jumpy all of a sudden."

Jack couldn't respond. Joseph, perhaps the love of Jack's life, assassinated by the king, was standing in the middle of the courtyard not fifteen feet from the kitchen where Silas was having lunch. He felt frantic, he had to do something, but he was detained. He rubbed his eyes or a moment and Joseph was gone.

"I... I just need to be left alone for a while," was enough to get Lucinda out of the room. Jack turned away from the window and walked toward his bed.

How the hell is this possible... Joseph... Jack felt as it he was having a breakdown. Just as the door closed behind Lucinda, a shadow fell across the room, over Jack. Jack clenched his fists, trying to will his way back to reality. A hand took Jack's fist in it, and softened it, interlocking fingers.

"No, no, damn it, I'm not going insane. I need to get out..."
"I'm here, Jack. I'm here"

Tears running down his face, Jack turned to see before him a face he never thought he'd see again. "How...? How is it possible?"

Jack moved to embrace Joseph, but found nothing there. He stood staring blankly.

A voice called out to him, "I'm here, but I'm not here like I was before. But I am, as always, here for you. I love you."

An aberration moved from a shadow and took the shape of Joseph, and he sat down at the foot of the bed.

"Time was stolen from us, Jack. Time was stolen and now your life is being stolen. Even in death I can't allow this to go on. I had to come back, to help you. I swear to God, Jack, I will help you."

Jack stood, dumbfounded. Is this madness, or has a prayer actually been answered?


David managed to make his way to a back booth without anyone making eye contact. He wondered what everyone would be thinking of him; tattered, muddy jeans and old shoes, face covered in sweat.

The waitress stopped by, not looking up from her notepad, "Ready to order?"

"I'll have the chicken sandwich with a soda and a plain salad, no dressing," he handed over the menu, still looking down.

"We're out of the chicken. Would you like the bacon?"

David's eyes raised up to meet hers without thinking. Pork had been banned from Gilboa for decades after a breakout of flu. David thought back to how his mother had explained the situation, "Back then we didn't have a federal health agency or a centralized medical system. If you got sick, the best most people had was a local doctor, and very few of the doctors had the means to treat something like the boar flu. The king decreed that never again would such an unclean animal meet the lips of one of his citizens." The meat always carried with it a stigma much more powerful than the risk of a simple disease, though. It was a way people differentiated themselves from people outside of Gilboa. It was a way for the Gilboans to feel superior. Looking back, David felt very childish for going along with it. It started him thinking about other ways that he had been taught to feel somehow superior when the waitress cleared her throat.

"The bacon sounds just fine," he replied.

The tavern wasn't really much to look at, it was a shack by Gilboan standards. People were mostly eating quietly, and there were a few families in the front. He wondered how common a warm meal was in the South of Gath. As David scanned the room he spotted a cabinet grand piano sitting against the back wall, covered in the cup stains and nicks of a thousand patrons. It struck David that the piano seemed out of place there, as if he'd stepped into an old pioneer movie and at any minute some rough cattle ranchers would come through the door and order up hard drinks.

The waitress came around the corner and put the plate in front of David. He found himself intoxicated with the smell. The waitress grinned for a second and moved on, "Enjoy."

He did. It was the most delicious thing David had ever eaten in his life, even putting the cuisine of the king's own chefs to shame. The bacon was crunchy, salty, and very flavorful. He ate every last crumb off the plate and sat back for a moment, allowing himself a brief respite from thoughts of where he would go in Gath or what he had left behind in Gilboa. For a few short minutes, David felt a simple pleasure.

As he was getting up to leave, he left a big tip and started thinking of times ahead. He was making his way toward the door when the waitress stopped him. "I saw you eyeing the piano earlier. That poor old thing hasn't been properly used in years. If you can play, I'd give you that sandwich on the house."

David did feel the pull to the piano, the same pull he'd felt months ago on the night when he met Michele. She felt so far away, it seemed that if he were to just play one piece she'd be a little bit closer. There's no way anyone would recognize me, he rationalized. One piece wouldn't hurt. "Okay."

His hands meet the keys. They were warm, the wood of the keys long exposed. He tested a key... the sound wasn't bad. Had someone kept it in tune? Without thinking, his fingers were in place, his hands falling on D flat major chord. The arpeggiations flowed, just as they had the night he met Michelle, as the notes of Liszt's "Un Sospiro" flowed from behind the piano. The noise and talking in the tavern quickly silenced, the people of Gath listened silently.

David hadn't felt peace for a very long time. The world became so simple when playing the piano; just enough concentration was supplied to play the piece, the rest reserved to enjoy the beautiful melodies. The complexities of politics, morality, religion were replaced by crescendos and, inevitably, decrescendos. As his hands met the last notes, a memory spoke to David from the past: "You're not supposed to be playing that." He looked up, but saw no princess in a flowing red dress.

The people in the tavern exploded into applause. The cook came out from the back, wiping off his hands with a tattered towel, and took David's hand, "That was marvelous, son!" Shouts of "Encore!" came from the people. He smiled, I have to move on, but I don't even know where I'm going, he bargained with himself. David indulged in another piece, "Pavane" by Ravel.

"It's been a long time since anyone's turned this place into a concert hall," the cook said as he sat down David and handed him another bacon sandwich, wrapped up for the road. "Consider this my way of saying thank you. Good luck, David."


Ground troops quickly and silently made their way from helicopters to the site of the solar array. Before them was a group of builders and other manual laborers, contracted from the Port of Prosperity to build a new source of energy for a country they would soon only neighbor.

A young man, not even 18, stood in front of the crowd and screamed, "This is MY land! These are being built with MY hands! Not only does Silas give away our homes, but now he doesn't even honor paying us for our work! How can I feed my family once we're a part of Gath if I'm not paid?" Just as he turned there was a sound like a whisper from behind the tree lines and he fell lifeless to the ground. A woman screamed just as more whispers started from all around the group of workers as they scrambled to flee. As movement from the crowd stopped, the troops advanced from their secure positions to make sure there were no survivors. Their job had been done.

A crew showed up and started picking up the bodies and putting them in trucks to be disposed of. The dirt was swept over, covering the blood. All evidence that there had ever been a disturbance was erased.

After seven hours of not moving a muscle, Derek, the photographer that had responded to a tip, moved his cramped arms and put his camera away. As he slowly made his way away from the array site, he sobbed silently.


David's hands were shaking, so he clasped them together, acting as if they were cold. There's no way he heard the cook correctly. It must have been a mistake.

The cook smiled, "Look, it's okay, kid. I'm pretty sure everyone in this place knows exactly who you are. You're among friends here."

David looked unconvinced, and terrified.

"My son is 17 years old last week. He's trying to get into a good school up north, but he was going to be drafted into the military. He would have been serving on the front lines, he probably would have been killed. The thought of him alone, on his own, freezing in a ditch somewhere... You saved him. You saved him along with ten thousand other sons, brothers, and fathers. Didn't you hear about the petition?"

David was in shock, "No... petition...?"

"About 2 months ago there was a petition making the rounds. Rumor has it, the thing started right here in the South, but by the time everything was said and done, it had 2 millions signatures, nearly a third of the entire population. It was a petition to name you a national hero of Gath, David. It even made it to the Senate before the military stepped in and quashed it." The cook leaned in, "As long as you avoid the military, you're going to find friends in the people of Gath. You were a real godsend. We're not going to forget that." With that, he gave David a warm pat on the back and went back to the kitchen. David turned to see his waitress standing there. She gave him a big hug. Slowly all of the people stood and greeted David, shaking his hand and even giving him money. He left the tavern with a renewed sense of hope.

David closed his eyes and whispered, "Thank you. I'll.... I'll never doubt you again."

From beside him, David heard Reverend Samuels reply, "He knows."


*note: no, Joseph is not a cylon.