The Shattered Land, By PaladinFox

The Germans had invaded! Only four days had passed since Captain Morbin had marched his vast army into Belgium, but those four days had been an endless nightmare for the small town, where the German and Great Britain armies had met, briefly clashed, and were now locked down in a bitter stalemate. While the rest of the German army had marched on toward France, Morbin's brigade was stuck in Davenport, waiting for the British army to make their inevitable mistake.

It was night and mercifully quiet. German troops marched through the streets, muttering curses under their breath, watching for any sign of a British soldier, who were also drifting through the town like phantoms. No gunshots could be heard, so the armies hadn't run into each other yet, one thing that she could be thankful for in this time of terror.

"She" was cowering in an alleyway, praying fervently to God for help. Her light brown hair was matted down with rain and sweat, but her blue eyes were still as bright as sapphires. The Germans had marched into her home two days ago to use it as a shelter from the constant rain, an annoyance that had lasted for four entire days. Her parents had resisted and had been killed. She had been running ever since, her nights filled with fear. Davenports' streets were filled with mud, but the girl was more afraid of being found by the Germans than of sleeping in the filthy alleys. However, the cold and dampness had already taken their toll on her body and a small sneeze escaped her lips just as two Germans passed the alley.

"Was wer das? [What was that?]" one of the soldiers asked.

"Ich tun nicht wissen, [I do not know.]" the other replied. "Lassen uns gehen kontrollie'ren es aus. Es kommen von in da. [Let's go check it out. It came from in there.]" He pointed into the alley, right at the girl who was unseen in the darkness.

Drat! she thought. Just my luck!

"Um, du gehen erst, [You go first.]" the first soldier suggested nervously.

The second laughed. "Sie sind bange, Leutnant? [Are you afraid, Lieutenant?]"

"Der word ist 'nervös,' Leutnant. Tun du meinen Kapitän Morbin werden sein glücklich wenn wir sind töten aus hier? [The word is 'nervous,' Lieutenant. Do you think Captain Morbin will be happy if we are killed out here?]"

"Wenn wir sind tot, wer sorges was er meinens? [If we are dead, who cares what he thinks?]"

"Punkt, außer ich noch bedarf' du gehen erst. Nach vor allem, du haben der taschenlampe. [Point, but I still want you to go first. After all, you have the flashlight.]"

"Gerecht genug'. Folgen mir. [Fair enough. Follow me.]"

The girl tried to draw further back into the alley as the two Germans started toward her, but her back soon brushed against the back wall of a house that was blocking the other end of the alley. One of the soldiers reached for his flashlight and she could see the dark outline of a gun next to the metal tube. That revelation did nothing to quiet her fears.

"Wer est rücken da? [Who is back there?]" the soldier asked, holding up his flashlight. Strangely, he did not turn it on. "Kommen auf aus und wir wollen nicht weh tun du. [Come on out and we will not hurt you.]"

She found that hard to believe.

"Müssen haben sein ein ratte, [Must have been a rat]" the other guessed. "Oder der winden. [Or the wind.]"

"Vielleicht . . . [Maybe . . . ]" the second soldier mused. "Dann wieder- [Then again-]"

"Here now!" a loud voice called, startling the soldiers. "What's all the ruckus out here?"

The soldiers turned to their left and spotted a bold, brown haired, blue eyed British soldier striding towards them. His uniform showed that he was a commander. The first soldier reached for his gun.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the commander warned. "It would make me extremely upset with you."

"Wer ist dieser? [Who is this?]" the second soldier demanded. "Was tun du bedarf'? [What do you want?]"

"I thought I had made myself very clear to Captain Morbin yesterday. I wouldn't move my troops into his part of Davenport if he didn't move his into mine. And if I'm not mistaken- which I'm not- you two are in our territory. Now, are you two going to clear out of here or do I have to use Starbright to move you?" he patted his sidearm suggestively.

"Es ist Befehls'haber Nickerson, [It is Commander Nickerson." the first soldier groaned. "Wir sollte gehen. [We should go.]"

"Ein weise entschei'dung. Wir werden treffen wieder, Befehls'haber. [A wise decision. We'll meet again, Commander.]"

"I have no doubt of that. Now get out of here."

The soldiers hurried away and the girl watched as Commander Nickerson stepped in front of the alley, a broad grin on his face. He waited until the sounds of the soldiers' footsteps had receded into the distance before he softly called, "Hello? Is there anyone back there?"

Something in the soldier's voice brought the girl forward and she slowly approached the mouth of the alley. Soldier and civilian stared at each other for a moment, each feeling as if they had met the other before.

The soldier finally held out his hand and said, "Hi. I'm Commander Tomhas Nickerson from York. And you are?"

"Joy. Joy Horton from . . . well, Davenport. It's nice to meet you."

Tomhas gave her a strange look which the seventeen-year-old returned with a calm stare. "Tell me something, Joy. Do you believe in déjà vu?"

* * * * *

Captain Benji Wood gave his commanding officer a salute as Tomhas returned to the town hall at the center of Davenport (the British army's temporary headquarters) along with his new-found friend, Joy Horton.

"Only you can wander out into a raging storm and come back with a pretty girl," Benji chuckled. "Isn't she a little young for you, though?"

Tomhas scowled at his friend. "She was being pestered by some Germans out there. I'm going to get her out of here before she gets killed."

"I have some family over in London," Joy explained. "Commander . . . ah, Tomhas said that he could fly me out of here." Her eyes brightened at that exciting thought. "Do you really have a plane out here?"

Benji laughed. "I'm afraid not. The best we can do is drive you to the coast where a ship can take you over to England. Um, but how are you going to sneak her past Morbin, Tomhas?"

"I'm not," Tomhas replied bluntly. "I'm going to tell him about her."

"Hmm, that's not going to work. He's already upset that you're keeping him out of France."

"I might have just saved his life. Those Germans are going to discover that the French are a lot tougher than-"

Benji's eyes widened and he waved his hands around wildly. "Tomhas, shut up! We can't discuss . . . uh, military intelligence around her!" Tomhas rolled his eyes. "Don't be stupid, Benji. Joy's one of us, remember? She knows what's going on."

Joy groaned. "So it is Morbin who's behind all this. I should have known."

"It can't be coincidence. Not after all this time. I think it's safe to assume that Morbin chose to route his forces in this direction to draw us back out into the open."

"Then he's not going to let Joy escape!" Benji cried.

"Don't be so eager to jump to conclusions. Morbin has made mistakes before. He may want to kill us all, but he's not going to change history to do it. If I can convince him that Joy has to escape from Davenport . . . "

"How are you going to do that?"

"I'll think of something. I always do."

"Well you better think of it quick. He's been yelling on the radio for you for the past ten minutes . . . In German, I might add, so no one can understand him. I think he's griping about you scaring the pants off two of his officers."

Tomhas sighed. "Sometimes I think that he'd be happier if I just killed every one of his officers instead of letting them come whining back to him."

Joy smiled. "He must still be upset about those black knights."

"You try and take out eleven knights before your enemy notices. It's not as easy as it sounds."

Tomhas directed Joy to Father Talbot's quarters so she would be taken care of while he followed Benji into the radio room. As he approached, he could hear Morbin's deep voice bellowing, "Wo ist Nickerson? Ich bedarf' zu gespäch' zu der klein- [Where is Nickerson? I want to talk to that little-]"

"There's no reason for that," Tomhas interrupted quickly and Morbin shut up. "This is Nickerson."

"Es ist etwa zeit. [It's about time.]"

"I apologize for the delay, but I was preoccupied. Can you speak in English, please? It's easier to translate."

"You have a lot of nerve harassing my soldiers, Commander!"

"We're at war, Morbin. I'm not supposed to hold tea parties for you. If I was playing by the proper rules, I should have sent your soldiers back to you in little pieces. In fact, I should be killing you right now, but I thought that you'd like to reflect on the rather hostile behavior that you've had as of late."

"If you keep this up, you'll never go home."

"That threat doesn't bother me anymore, Morbin. I've come to grips with reality, and I'd rather for you to be forgiven than to live in peace and comfort. Now, on to more important matters. You owe me a favor, Captain."

"For what?"

"Saving your life. Read your history book, pal. The Germans will be defeated at the Marne river in France in September. After that, Germany will be sandwiched between the French and the Russians, and the jolly old British will be on the sidelines rooting them on. Let's face it, your plan has already failed."

"Schlieffen is an idiot," Morbin agreed grumpily. "You are lucky I decided not to change history. I could have corrected his little blunder."

"Only if you had left Otto von Bismarck in power, but that's beside the point. I need you to do something for me. Because your marvelous little army has blockaded Davenport and my troops have yours surrounded, we are about to alter history. I have a young girl in my possession who needs to get to England. I need you to let her go through your little barrier and to jolly old London."

"A young girl, eh? Would this be the troublesome Joy Horton?"

"It was a girl who your marshmallow head soldiers almost killed for no good reason other than they were bored. Sound like a familiar scenario? You know I don't play that game."

"So it is Joy."

"It's just a girl who is very important to the course of history."

"Who? Harriet Tubman?"

"Give it a rest, Morbin. You don't need another death on your head. Take a look outside your window and feast your eyes on all the destruction you've caused. Hasn't this quenched your thirst for chaos? Let the girl go."

"You must be joking! This shattered land holds no promise for me! With or without my interference, Earth would erupt into war. One life can't make a difference. If you send her out here, she will die."

"Have you lost all sense of your humanity, Morbin? You used to be a good man. Have you sold your soul to devil since you left home?"

Morbin grumbled something under his breath and then growled, "I'm warning you, Tomhas. If I find her, I'll kill her."

The radio went silent and Benji choked back a nasty word.

Tomhas smiled. "Get Joy some warm clothes for her journey."

"What?" Benji howled. "Morbin will kill her! You heard what he said!"

"No, he won't. Morbin might be the biggest force of evil out in the universe since the Dark Lord, but he's still a Human deep inside. She'll be perfectly safe."

"But-"

"Do you think I would risk Joy's life if I wasn't one hundred percent sure that she would be safe? Good God, they'd have my head when they found out!"

Benji didn't have to ask who "they" were. "All right. I hope you're right."

"There are times in our life when we have to just take a leap of faith, because God can handle these things better than we can imagine."

* * * * *

Morbin's soul was in torment as he slowly backed away from the radio, as if it were some sort of poisonous snake. Tomhas was right. He had caused enough destruction in Belgium. It was time to move on. But then again, what if it was Joy that Tomhas was sending out of Davenport? He had been running from the quartet of time travelers- Tomhas, Joy, Benji, and Talbot- for months now and this might be his only chance to get rid of one of them! He moaned in despair. There didn't seem to be any way to win. His only hope was to escape his praying pursuers before it was too late.

"Leutnant Thompson!" he bellowed.

A young German entered the room and saluted him. "Jawohl'? [Yes, sir?]"

"Vor·beriten der truppen. Wir sind ab·fahren Davenport in der morgen. [Prepare the troops. We're leaving Davenport in the morning.]"

Thompson was confused by that order. "Kapitän'?"

"Du hören mir. Wir sind rückkehr zu Deutschland. Lassen der britisch haben Davenport! Ich wachsen müde von dieser spiel. [You heard me. We're returning to Germany. Let the British have Davenport I grow weary of this game.]"

"Spiel, Kapitän?"

"Tun nicht fragen. Gerecht' gehen. [Don't ask. Just go.]"

Thompson wisely hurried out of the room.

Morbin shook his head sadly. "You win this round, Nickerson. But we'll meet again."

* * * *

Benji excitedly burst into Tomhas's quarters the next morning and exclaimed, "Morbin's gone! The Germans are returning to Germany!"

Tomhas laughed. "This is even better than I expected! Has Joy already left?"

Benji nodded. "Talbot's escorting her to the North Sea where she'll board the Lusitania, if all goes well."

Tomhas frowned. "You'd better hope it doesn't, Benji. The Germans are going to sink the Lusitania in May 1915."

"It doesn't matter. We'll be long gone by then!"

"Right. It was a pleasure working with you again, Benji."

"The pleasure is all mine," Benji replied, shaking Tomhas's hand firmly. "Who knows? Maybe someday we'll even go home."

"Not until Morbin's defeated, one way or another."

"You got him to back down. That's progress, Tomhas!"

"The only progress I want to see is Morbin admitting that God is the correct path to follow."

Benji shook his head. "We can only pray about that. You only realized the Truth recently, Tomhas. Morbin's soul has been plagued by Darkness for years, so it's going to take him a while to accept Christ's sacrifice. His demons are going to keep his away from the Cross for as long as they can."

Tomhas pondered that. "Now that would be a neat place to go! The Crucifixion . . . and then the Resurrection! Morbin would be clay in God's hands after that!"

"A quick victory isn't in our future, Tomhas. We have to work for everything we receive."

"Maybe so, but it's a thought. I'm allowed to dream, aren't I?"

Benji grinned. "And what noble dreams thou hast, Sir Tomhas!"

Tomhas laughed. "Ah, I guess we can keep this up forever if we have to. Home will seem so . . . blasé after this adventure."

"Hmm . . . Well, maybe next time I'll outrank you for a change."

"Don't even think about it. It's all in the way reality is shaped. You're doomed to be a subordinate for the rest of your life. From serf, to captain, to . . . oh, I don't know, a high school teacher."

Benji shuddered. "I hate being typecasted," he complained in mock disappointment. "Next thing you know, they'll have me in a bunny suit."

Benji's laughter was the last thing Tomhas heard before his vision tilted and twentieth century Belgium vanished.

* * * * *

The date is August 6, 1945 AD and Hiroshima, Japan is about to be bombed. Morbin, a young Japanese boy, looks up at the sky and begins to cry. His love of chaos has been thwarted, but he will be forced to watch millions die nonetheless, doomed to be the herald of disaster for the rest of eternity. There is no joy in his life anymore, and the end seems to be an eternity away . . .

A shout suddenly breaks into his thoughts. The American's atomic bombs were coming. Morbin braced himself, waiting for the millions of Japanese citizens around him to instantly be killed, knowing that he would be untouched. Over and over again, until the end of time, Morbin would be thrust into situations like these. And wherever he went, Tomhas and his friends would never be far behind. So it is written, and so shall it be.

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