Free Madness by Sorcha MacMurrough

Simon, I want you too.”
     
    “What is this incredible gift you’ve given me?” he asked in wonder. “I can’t believe we met only a few short hours ago in the midst of absolute madness and chaos.
     
    "Now my desire for you is both of those things, and so much more. I feel so lost and yet found. Torn in two. I keep telling myself this is terribly wrong. I mean, a young girl like you, so young and tender as I remember from past happy days, yet now so womanly too, and look at me now. An opium addict and an incarcerated lunatic.
     
    “Yet I touch you, kiss you, and I feel such certainty. As if I’m sheltered in the storm and the winds and rain can buffet me, yet I’ll be safe no matter what.”
     
    Gabrielle stroked his cheek gently. “Oh, I wish I could, Simon. I promise you, I’ll find out who you are, why you’re here, where we met before. We can see each other, maybe get you out—”
     
    Simon shook his head bitterly. “They’ll never let me go. Never. And you can’t follow me in here, or into my world. It’s too dangerous.”
     
    “Maybe we can break free—”
     
    He cupped her cheek and shook his head sadly. “Don’t, please, Gabrielle. Don’t make me allow myself to start dreaming. You’re so lovely and warm and soft in my arms now, but there will come a time when you’re going to hate me.”
     
    “No! Never!” she protested, truly shocked, and planted a kiss on his lips which set them both panting anew.
     
    Yet Simon remained adamant. “Yes, love. You will hate me.” His golden eyes blazed with absolute conviction. “You’re going to look at me and there will be doubt in your eyes. And it’ll damn near kill me. Then it will be all over. You’ll walk away from me, and I’ll never see you again.” He sighed heavily.
     
    “No! Never!” she protested again. "There's nothing you could do, nothing they could say, that would make me abandon you—"
     
    “But then you’re really just a dream anyway, Gabrielle. One of the dreams that mock me as I try to escape from this place even for a short time, only to wake up in my cold, lonely, narrow cell and realise that this is all a fantasy. None of it is real."
     
    "I am real, Simon, and I won't forsake you—"
     
    He gave her a loving smile, and she was sure she had never seen a man more handsome.
     
      "My darling Gabrielle, even if you were real, and not just a recollection of happier times in my long ago past, your love could never be. I’m blighted, not even human any longer. I'm nothing more than a creature of the night. A savage beast of war and the apocalypse. The pale rider bringing nothing but death with only a word or two. There isn’t a place for me in the real world after the war.”
     
    She shook her head and argued vehemently, “No, it’s not true! Even out of death there comes new life. Just think of, well, bone meal in a garden to fertilise roses. How something as reeking of mortality as manure can also foster such things of beauty."
     
    He gazed at her, startled. Roses….
     
    He heard her saying as if from a distance, "My friend Eswara is from India. She believes that nothing ever dies, but is reborn and tries to aspire to a higher and higher level of being. To be at one with God at last. Reincarnation, I think is the word. Even if I’m not a very good Christian, I have to believe there’s more than this. Just as you have to believe there’s more than Bedlam. I won’t forsake you, Simon, I swear.”
     
    He rested his hand on her cheek. “That’s exactly what you should do. A quick tiddle or two isn’t worth your life, my dear. There will be other men, and—”
     
    She pouted mutinously. “Even if there ever were, which I doubt, you’re still my friend. I owe you. And I shan’t forget it. Do you hear me, Simon?”
     
    He simply nodded, unwilling to spoil the few precious moments they had left in fruitless arguments.
     
    “Thank you for rising to my defence so stoutly." He stroked one auburn