CHAPTER FIFTY SIX
"She has seen them! The witch has seen them!" I shout as I light the
shell's fuse. The fuse burns. And burns. And burns until finally
reaching the base of the shell which sputters for just the barest moment
before whooshing high into the air, a black stream of hot gasses
trailing behind against the bright blue sky. The rocket arcs over just a
bit at the top before exploding with a resounding boom that echoes down
the valley.
* * * *** * * * *** * * *
"What in Zaphod's name was that, Sergeant?"
"Don't know, Corporal. Sounded like the fireworks they use to celebrate
the Queen's birthday. The old Queen I mean. Not the new one. Don't
exactly know when her birthday is." I turn to the men standing around
me. "Any of you lads know when the new Queen's birthday is?"
"Be nice if it was soon. We get an extra ration of Klatch, don't we?"
answers one of the new men. Haven't got their names locked in my head
yet.
"We will if I have anything to say about it. Pick up your bindles boys,
let's go check it out."
"Shouldn't we wait for the Lieutenant, Sergeant Timbler?" asks the new
Corporal, name of Lichmer I think. Thank Zaphod for ranks.
"The way I see it, Corporal, that was a signal of some kind. Could be
good news, could be bad news, but them rebels were trying to get us to
leave this area so we better find out why they was doing that. The
Lieutenant shouldn't have any trouble finding us."
Which tain't a good thing.
* * * *** * * * *** * * *
The loud explosion draws my attention away from the argument with Denson
as we both turn our heads to the north. We can see the remains of the
rocket, a small black splotch with a fading tail against a clear blue
sky.
"What was that?" she asks.
"I have no idea," I honestly answer.
My radio beeps.
* * * *** * * * *** * * *
A rocket-propelled grenade. I've seen pictures. It looks Russian, that
classic green and brown. There's a loud hissing sound behind me and I
turn just in time to see a small rocket shoot into the air below me but
it flies right by, way over to my right. Wasn't even close. I follow its
flight with my eyes until it explodes with a loud bang that reverberates
back and forth between the hills on either side of me.
Suddenly, all the men below me flee the scene, including the ones that
were supposedly dead or injured. At the same time, other men pop up all
around me, throwing dirt colored covers off. They are standing in holes
dug into the hillside and each one is packing the same rocket-propelled
grenade.
One half of my brain is screaming "TRAP!" but I can't seem to move. All
the other half of my brain can think is "I'm pregnant"! Lilly launches
herself skyward, jerking me back into action. I punch my headset as we
claw at the air, fighting to gain altitude, the sound of multiple
launches behind us filling my ears.
"IT"S A TRAP!" I scream. "IT"S A GOD DAMN TRAP! THEY'VE GOT RPG'S. SEND
HELP! OH PLEASE GOD, NOT MY BABY. IT'S A TRAP, GENERAL! FLY LILLY!
FLY!"
* * * *** * * * *** * * *
"What did she say?" demands Denson.
"Not now!"
I grab the bi-nok-u-lars off the table and quickly focus on the spot
where I last saw Lilly. The wait is unbearable but I finally see her
crest the hill and climb higher in the sky. There are also some other
things in the air with her, small, brightly burning things that are
rising faster than she is. They will catch her in milicycles. One of
them explodes behind her, then another.
"What is happening?!" Denson screams.
"I don't know."
* * * *** * * * *** * * *
I hear the two explosions behind me and my heart stops beating for a
moment. I'm not hit. Which means those RPG's didn't hit anything, they
just exploded in midair. Which means that the damned things are working
on a timer of some kind and it doesn't matter if I dodge them. They're
like depth charges and I'm the sub.
I quickly scan the area around me. There are two to my left and three to
my right, all different heights and they could go off any milicycle.
Lilly's not fast enough to get away and even if I fly by myself, it's
too late. Max protection means I fall from the sky but it's my only
chance.
I kick away from Lilly, who instantly disappears. With a momentary burst
of speed, I angle up and away from the RPG's that surround me and then
concentrate every ioata of magic that I can tap into a dense, protective
shell as I become a free flying object on a ballistic trajectory. The
first shock wave hits me right after the nearest grenade explodes.
* * * *** * * * *** * * *
We can't see shit, what with the canopy of trees around us, but we could
certainly hear a lot of explosions. I think I spotted the Queen's
dragon, wings beating faster than I ever seen, through a gap in the
trees but it only lasted a milicycle. Then them explosions started.
"Look about brightly, lads," I shout. "Looks like we are into it up to
our arseholes again. What ever 'it' is."
* * * *** * * * *** * * *
I lost track when Lilly vanished. For a milicycle, I thought I saw the
Queen in the air by herself and then she too vanished but she seemed to
move in a particular direction. That is when the remaining bright
objects exploded, but not all at the same time.
Denson cried out in anguish but I kept scanning the sky with the bi-nok-
u-lars. It feels like decicycles but I eventually spot something. It
appears to be a person but they are not flying. When Alexia flies, it is
head first, arms tucked to her side. This person is completely out of
control, rolling, spinning, arms and legs flailing about. It must be
Alexia but things are not right. She continues to rise in the sky but is
slowing. She reaches a peak, holds there for but a moment then begins to
fall back to the ground, still out of control. I reach out and grab
Denison by the arm, jerking her next to me. I drop the bi-nok-u-lars
from my eyes but quickly see the small figure in the sky that is Alexia.
"There!" I shout, pointing in the Queen's direction, tracking her with
my extended finger. "That is Alexia, falling to her death! You must do
something immediately or she dies."
"What can I do? I am not strong enough!"
"Only you can save her! Do it NOW!"
* * * *** * * * *** * * *
She escaped! That Zaphod riding harlot of a witch escaped! I turn to
face General Tasher.
"She escaped! How is that possible? It was the perfect plan! And now she
just flies away as if ..."
The General is not looking at me but at the retreating view of Alexia.
"She is not flying, Dupree. See for yourself."
My eyes are not as sharp as his.
"I see nothing, Tasher!"
"She does not fly, she falls!"
There is hope yet.
"Gather the men! I want her alive or her dead body! Go now!"
* * * *** * * * *** * * *
I freeze in fear. It is Leeanna and the snakes all over again. I could
not take action that night and now, with Alexia falling before my eyes,
I feel helpless. Packer is demanding that I do something but I know not
what to do.
"I cannot reach her!" I scream.
"Then reach out to her! There is no time!"
I remember Alexia's trick with her protective shield, the use of the air
itself to slow or stop a bullet. I send a blast of air in her direction
and keep sending more and more, straining to the limits of my power.
* * * *** * * * *** * * *
A mighty wind appears from nowhere, shaking the trees to their very
roots. What is strange is that the wind seems to begin very low to the
ground then suddenly wells up and flies skyward, taking all manner of
leaves, grass, twigs and dirt with it, nearly blinding everyone. The men
are looking very worried as they search for cover against the wind and
the debris it carries.
"What is happening, Sergeant?" Corporal Lichmer shouts, trying to be
heard over the howling, swirling gale.
"Clearly, witches work!" I shout back. "Have the lads hunker down and
hold position. It can't last forever! Jillian's mercy, this one's a real
ox lifter!"
Suddenly, something big comes crashing through the trees about fifty
decileagues to my left. It hits the ground but not as hard as one would
expect. Perhaps it was a bear that had been hiding in the tree but
dislodged due to the wind. That is all we need, an angry bear chasing us
about behind enemy lines. That would get a good laugh back in camp at
our expense. It is more likely just a large, broken branch from one of
the surrounding trees. The way everything is swaying about, it won't be
long before some of these trees are uprooted or split apart. I look
warily about, trying to see if any of the trees hold a lot of big broken
branches or look particularly risky. If a tree begins to fall, there may
not be time to escape it.
"Keep a sharp eye about, lads!" I bellow. "Watch for falling trees!"
Several of us are crouching down behind the trunk of a long dead tree
that fell ages ago.
"Is this our witch or their witch, Sergeant?" Trooper Copperman yells.
"Doesn't matter, lad. You'll be just as dead if something crushes your
skull."
* * * *** * * * *** * * *
The strain is too great. I cannot keep it going much longer. Alexia has
such exquisite control over her power, such an understanding of how the
natural world works that she makes this look easy. The rest of us can
only use magic like a blunt tool in comparison to her but that is the
only choice right now and I am rapidly running out of magic. I need to
hold out as long as I can or Alexia dies.
* * * *** * * * *** * * *
Just as quickly as it arrived, the wind disappears. The sudden silence
is almost as frightening as the wind. Almost.
"Head count, Corporal Lichmer," I calmly order as I stand, brushing the
dirt and debris off my uniform.
"Aye, Sergeant!" he snaps back, quickly calling out names and getting
replies. Turns out we weathered the storm nicely, no one was hurt, no
one lost any equipment.
"Zaphod's luck was with us," he adds at the end of his report.
"Can't rely on that, son. Them gods are a fickle bunch."
"Did we win that one or lose it, Sergeant?"
"Damned if I know Corporal. Copperman! You and Hoskins head over that
way," I point to my left with a jerk of my thumb "and see what fell out
of those trees. If it's some injured beast, put it out of its misery but
be careful. Don't let it put you out of your misery."
He salutes. "Never any misery with you around, Sergeant."
Wise ass. They both trot off at a double quick pace. There could be some
meat on tonight's menu.
"The rest of you slugabeds mount up. We need to find out what is going
on around here and then report it. Phillips and Massey will take point
and ..."
"SERGEANT! COME QUICK! IT'S THE QUEEN!" Hoskin roars.
I take off at a dead sprint, or at least what passes for a dead sprint
at my age, towards the grove of trees. Most of the men follow me. I pull
up just short of where they are. If this is a trap of some kind, we
can't all run right into it.
"It's the Queen's what?" I ask.
Copperman hurries over, grabbing my arm.
"It's the Queen herself!" he exclaims, dragging me forward several
decileagues. By the time I pull my arm free, we are standing next to
Hoskin, kneeling next to a crumpled figure, wearing a woman's version of
our uniform, though it is torn and bloody. Hoskin is as white as my
granny's pantaloons.
I close my eyes and cock my head to the side. I can hear men coming from
the direction of rebel territory and they aren't far away.
* * * *** * * * *** * * *
I collapse, landing on my side. General Packer is beside me straight
away.
"Are you well?"
"Yes," I whisper, pausing a moment to gauge the level of magic in the
area. "Alexia lives ... I think. She is very depleted."
"How can you be certain?"
"When Opulessa died, we all knew it. A witch of that strength leaves a
mark when she dies. There is no such mark for Alexia though she is very
weak."
"Can I leave you here as you are?"
"Yes! Yes! Please go. Find her!"
"My horse!" he shouts. The animal is there in milicycles. He vaults into
the saddle.
I struggle to my feet, a Guardsman helping me.
"General! Wait!" I gasp.
He glares at me with a mixture of anger and frustration.
"We do not have time to ..."
"Alexia is with child!"
His visage instantly becomes one of total surprise and shock. "The Queen
is WITH CHILD?!"
I can only nod my head in confirmation, being too tired to even speak
further.
He wheels his horse about and spurs it forward, the animal bounding
towards where we last saw Alexia. One of the officers chases after him
but the gap between them rapidly increases.
"General! We need to plan this action!"
The General pulls back on the reins, slowing the horse enough for Packer
to turn his head back towards the officer.
"The plan is for every man jack to follow me! We ride to save the
Queen!"
He turns back and spurs the horse again, galloping with gaining speed
through the camp as men scatter about, shouting orders and raising the
alarm. All around me there are cries of "We ride to save the Queen!"
* * * *** * * * *** * * *
"Is she alive, Sergeant?"
"How in Zaphod's name should I know? I tain't no Healer!"
"Don't they check the neck or the wrist or something?"
"Shouldn't we not touch her?"
"I heard you touch the Queen without her permission, you turn into a
newt!"
"Be silent the lot of you!" I order loudly.
In their silence, I can better hear the approaching rebels. The woods
are thick around us, lots of low brush about, slowing their approach but
they're raising a rucas, not trying to cover their movements at all. The
lot of them are searching hard for the Queen and they can't be more than
a hundred decileagues away.
"Look, lads," I say much more quietly. "There's nothing for it. We are
going to have to leg it out of here and right quick!"
"They always say don't move an injured woman. That's what they always
say."
"Corporal, you hear those voices out there? That's the whole rebel army
headed this way. They are looking for her. If we stay here; they capture
all of us and her, whether she's alive or dead. If we run for it and
leave her; we escape and they capture her, alive or dead. We pick her up
and run for it; we may escape and she ends up back at headquarters,
alive or dead. Not much choice here as I see it. Help me get her up on
my shoulder."
Several hands help lift her up and settle her gently over my right
shoulder. That'll be the last gentle thing that'll happen to her for a
while. Don't see any newts in the crowd so that takes care of that
rumor. She's lighter than she looks but it will still be damn near
impossible for me to make any good speed with her like this. I'm not the
fastest man on the squad but I can run down every one of them on the
long training runs. I've got endurance.
I shift her just a little bit so that her stomach is right over my
shoulder.
"We do this fast and quiet. Head straight back to our lines. They'll
have to slow down and search while we leg it. There shouldn't be anyone
in front of us but just in case, I want the two fastest men out front."
Five hands immediately go up. I point to two of them and they head out.
I can already feel the weight on my shoulder.
"Last thing. If I go down, nearest men grabs the Queen and you all take
off. No one stays behind for me. If that man goes down, nearest man
grabs the Queen. Same rules. She got us home. We get her home.
Understood?"
There was nothing but quiet determination in the squad. We owe it to
her.
"Right. Lead us home, Corporal."
* * * *** * * * *** * * *
I make good progress in the open plains outside of the camp. I look back
behind me several times and do not see any indication of Guardsmen
following me, organized or not.
It was foolish to do what I did. No rational General would ever commit
his troops to battle by simply pointing to a spot on the horizon and
saying "go get them." We could not afford to wait, however. Dupree had a
very smart plan. She put herself within their grasp and Dupree took
advantage. Advantage of her good nature and loyalty to her troops. There
has never been a Queen in the history of this world that would do
something like that for her Guard.
With child.
Is the woman insane?! How could they conspire to keep such information
from me? No General has ever lost a Queen to a direct battle. The Queens
themselves will battle without any help from their respective Guard but
no General has actually lost a Queen, let alone one with child.
When was the last time a Queen was even with child? I thought they
discouraged things like that. I don't know exactly how but I'm certain I
read about it or heard something. Madness. Utter madness.
Now that I have reached the tree line, this is much more difficult.
There is no way of knowing where Alexia is. The proper thing to do is
wait for the men to arrive in strength, establish a grid and then assign
specific areas to search. Anything else is simply an emotional response.
Well. I'm here with nothing to do until the rest of the men arrive. I
might as well make myself useful. I urge my horse forward and we plunge
into the woods. As we slowly amble along, I scan left and right. The
height of my mount gives me some advantage but the underbrush is so
thick in some areas with brambles and thorned plants that Alexia could
be laying at my feet and I would not know it. This is hopeless.
Suddenly, I hear gunfire off to my right, not a half a league away.
Where there is trouble, that is where you will find the Queen. I force
my horse to speed up over the uneven terrain and bad footing of the
forest. It is not to his liking but it cannot be helped. As we near the
fight, I stop and dismount, leading the way but keeping a firm grip on
the reins. After a few hundred decileagues, I spy a squad of the Guard
under fire by what appears to be twice their number of rebels. No one
has a superior position so they must have just encountered each other in
the woods but the rebels are clearly blocking the path of the Guard from
reaching our encampment. Circling wide to the left of the rebels, I am
able to come up on the Guard from their flank, whereupon I am stopped by
a Guardsman.
"Hold! Who are ye'?"
At least he asked before trying to kill me.
"I am General Packer of the Queen's Guard."
"Bulls balls, chumie, and I'm the king of the faeries."
"Guardsman, I am stepping out slowly. Do not fire upon me."
I ease out into the open where we can both see each other. His mouth
drops open then he signals with his hand for me to come ahead. I tie the
reins to a nearby tree and scuttle forward in a bent over crouch. We
proceed together, ducking and weaving from tree to tree, avoiding fire,
until we reach a sergeant who is standing behind several large rocks
with the Queen laying on the ground next to him. He regards me with one
raised eyebrow then returns to firing as my guide returns to his post.
"Welcome to the fight, General. Didn't bring any more with you?"
"They are on their way. Do I know you, Sergeant?"
"Aye, Sir. Sergeant Timbler. We met a few days ago: 3rd Regiment, 12th
Squad."
"You mean this is the same group of men the Queen saved?"
"Aye, Sir. Strange ol' world, isn't it."
"Where's your Lieutenant, Sergeant Timbler?"
"We sorta lost him, General. He went one way and we went the other. I
didn't like the feel of everything and thought the rebels were up to
something. We investigated and found her." He points to the Queen. "We
tried to make it out of the woods but stumbled onto these boys about ten
decicycles ago. They've sent three runners to get the word out and
Pyters over there got two of them and likely winged the third."
I nod towards a tall, thin Guardsman, holding an old style long rifle
instead of the new rifles supplied by the Winthrop Group. He must be the
sharp shooter. He smiles in acknowledgement. Timbler continues.
"That may have bought us some time but help better get here soon. I
don't know anything about healing but the Queen needs help right now."
"Well, luckily, I have my horse with me. If we can just get her back the
way I came, there's a good chance ..."
The Guardsman I first met slides to a stop on his hands and knees next
to us.
"Beggin' the General's pardon, but your horse has been shot. He's down."
Damn! So much for the fast escape.
"Looks like I'm not much help here, Sergeant."
"Not to worry, Sir. We can always use another finger to pull a trigger."
"Unfortunately, in my haste to get here, I forgot my weapon."
The Sergeant looks at me as if I was a raw recruit but says nothing. He
fires two more rounds then glances down at the Queen.
"General, we can't stay here. We're running out of supplies and every
second the Queen is here the more dangerous it is for her."
"I could not agree more, Sergeant. If you would lend me your rifle, I
will lead your men in an attack on the rebels which should give you
cover to take the Queen and run for it."
"An attack, General?"
"Yes, Sergeant. I've always found it more useful for the enemy to be
concentrating on not getting killed instead of concentrating on killing
me."
"There is that, Sir. You sure about this? Me and the lads have already
faced certain death once this week. Wouldn't like to make a habit of
it."
"When we signed up for the Guard, no one promised us an easy life or an
easy death, Sergeant. Do you think you can carry her?"
"I got her this far, Sir. I can get her farther."
"Good man. I should probably tell you one thing though. The Queen is
with child."
He looks at me wide-eyed, down at Alexia and then back at me, speechless
with shock.
"My exact reaction, Sergeant."
He finally finds his voice. "And er' I been carryin' her over my
shoulder like an old sack of potatoes!"
"That's as good as any other, Sergeant."
"But what if I done hurt the baby by being so careless?"
"She has to live to give birth, Sergeant. First things first." I hold my
hand out to him. He shrugs and hands me his rifle. "I do hate to leave a
soldier defenseless."
"If I'm legging it, the less weight the better. Besides, if they get
past you, doesn't really matter now, does it, General?"
"I suppose not. I wish we had more men like you in the Guard, Sergeant."
"You do, Sir. There's just not a lot of call for you to mix with the
rest of us. Once the riff raff and opportunists left for a better deal,
the lads that were left weren't a bad lot. Just needed a bit of
organizing, that's all." He reaches down and, after a moment's
hesitation, very carefully stands Alexia up and gently places her across
his shoulder as he steps forward and up behind the rocks. There are a
few cautious adjustments and he nods his head. He is ready to move out.
"Jillian's mercy be with us all," he says.
"And Zaphod's strength," I add. "Give us five decicycles to draw their
fire and then you run like the wind."
"Aye, Sir. The first bottle of Klatch is on me."
"And the second is on me, Sergeant. We serve the Queen."
* * * *** * * * *** * * *
The General signaled the men to move out. He left six in our position to
keep firing so that the rebels wouldn't suspect that the rest of them
were going to try to flank them. It's a simple move but effective,
particularly when the fighting first starts and you haven't gotten
everyone in position yet. That's why I always have at least one man on
each flank. It reduces the firepower of the squad but there are rarely
any surprises. More men live to see the next day.
When the lads start firing, the rest of the Squad rushes to join the
fight, wishing me luck before they leave. I do the same to them. We
tain't likely to see each other again. It's the best move we got but it
won't be enough. We don't have enough men or ammunition. They can give
those rebel bastards a bloody nose but after that, if they're smart,
they'll keep enough men to tie the Guard up and send the rest after me.
I'll have a jump on 'em but I'm running for two ... well, more like one
and two thirds. They'll catch me before very long.
With child! She did all that for us and she was with child! I don't know
what to think about that. She has more balls than most men I know,
that's for certain.
I guess it's been long enough, tain't been no firing this way for a bit.
I stick my head up and look around. Nothing I can see. Better be off
then.
I start out slowly, moving and checking as I go. I need to put some
distance between me and the fight before making for the camp at top
speed. If I can find more Guardsmen and if they got horses, there's some
hope. If I don't ... well, no one can say we didn't give it our best.
Don't see nor hear nothing unusual so I better make Klatch while the
fire's hot. There's a winding path in the woods, probably a game trail
of some kind where deer and such follow the same route every day but it
heads in the same general direction as I want and it's easier than
breaking my own trail. Quieter too.
The first half a league is mostly flat and easy but then the ground gets
hillier, moving up then down irregularly. The terrain provides better
protection from easy discovery but it slows me down. The footing is also
worse. Climbing a small hillock, I slip and fall to my knees, a sharp
pain traveling up my thigh but I don't drop the Queen. When I try to
stand up, the pain in the thigh only grows worse.
So much for speed.
I struggle up and limp off, jostling the Queen way too much for my
liking. I can still hear the gunfire but it's less than before. That
could be either good or bad so there's no reason to worry about it. I
need to keep moving.
Been on the run for at least fifteen decicycles, which is longer than I
thought I'd last. The game trail turns to my left and deeper into the
woods but it looks lighter off to my right. Guess it's time to go brush
bustin'. The thigh still hurts but it's feeling a little better. Don't
matter right now because I'm wadding through all kinds of thorny brush,
full of little, thin branches that rip and tear at my uniform. The
Queen's also.
She's still alive, of that I'm sure. I can feel her breathing, though
it's very slow and shallow. I think she's bleeding less, though the
thorny branches have created some new wounds on her hands and arms. I
just pray to Jillian that she's got the strength to hold on.
I hear voices back to my rear left, so I hunker down, hoping they won't
see me. After a few milicycles, I also hear horses coming from my right.
The horsemen are likely Guard but Zaphod preserve me if I'm wrong. As I
rise to make a run for it, someone behind me raises the alarm. I force
my way through the last few decileages, bursting clear of the woods into
an open field. The horsemen are Guard but they are a quarter league away
and trotting in the wrong direction!
"HEY! MUTTON LOVERS! BACK THIS WAY!" I shout.
Several of the riders turn in the saddle to look back at me. I run
towards them despite the pain in my leg. No reason to save anything now.
The voices from the woods sound louder but I don't bother to look behind
me, they don't matter. I hear gunfire. Don't matter. The horsemen have
all wheeled their mounts around and are galloping my way, many firing as
they ride. I catch one in my left shoulder, causing me to spin and
stumble a few decileagues, the pain taking my breath away, but I get
back on stride and keep running.
It don't matter. We serve the Queen.
CHAPTER FIFTY SEVEN
I'm back in our New York apartment. Everything is exactly as it was
right before Mom and Terry were killed. Except I'm still Alexia and
dressed in my Guard uniform, or at least what's left of it. It's cut to
ribbons in spots and very bloody but I can't find any injuries on my
arms or legs. Anywhere on my body in fact.
I slowly stroll around the living room, lightly touching things as I
move about the room. I pick up the family photo where Terry is dressed
as Terri. We're all smiling. It was some kind of promotion at Sears and
mom insisted. Terry agreed only if he could come as Terri. I didn't give
a damn one way or another but that was back when I was still hiding so
any kind of a photo made me a little nervous. I finally decided that if
the cops traced me all the way back to Mom and Terry, I was probably
gonna get caught anyway so I agreed to pose.
Terri looks more than passable. He should have done Mom's makeup. You
can see the toll the booze took on her. Still had a great smile though.
The traffic noise is clear and loud. I move to a window and look out.
It's just like I remember it. Same dingy buildings, same declining
neighborhood, same low level gang bangers lounging on the stoops.
It's like I never left. So, what am I doing back here? Is this heaven?
Hell?
I hear a key rattling in the front door and step back, looking for
something to use as a weapon if need be. The door swings open and an
attractive, young blonde woman steps into the apartment.
"He's here, Mom!" she squeals.
Another young, attractive woman hurries in, stopping to stare at me but
this one has auburn hair. She's slightly shorter than me but we have the
same angular face. The other woman is a little more babyfaced; softer,
fuller, big eyes and small nose. They stand side by side, holding hands
and giving me the once over.
"Oh my!" Red exclaims. "So beautiful! I'd never thought he would turn
out so well!"
Blondie steps closer to me, eyes me up and down, then smirks.
"Leave it to you, Alex, to be a better looking woman than me. You are
sooo competitive!"
"Do I know you ... bitch?" I ask, emphasizing the last word.
Red steps between us. "Girls! I'll have none of that! We're family.
Behave like it."
"Family? What the hell are you talking about ..." She smiles. I recognize
that smile. I grab the picture frame off the table and give it a good
look, then compare the smiles.
"Mom?" I hesitantly ask. She steps forward, grabbing me by the shoulders
and pulling me in for a hug.
"Yes, Alex. It's me. And this is your sister, Terri."
Blondie waves at me. "Hey, sis. Nice outfit."
"Screw you, Terri. What the hell is this place? Why do you two looks so
..." I want to say young but Terri actually looks just a bit older, like
she was in her late twenties. Mom, on the other hand looks about my age.
She steps up and lightly touches my face, then my stomach.
"A grandchild. I never thought I'd see one."
"Not from me, certainly" Terri giggles.
"Mom, what is going on? Where am I? Why am I here? Am I ... dead? Is the
baby ..." I can't ask it. She gently strokes my hair.
"Honey. Baby. Alex. Where do I begin? This isn't heaven or hell, it's a
way station. You're not dead. Yet. Neither is your baby. It's still up
in the air. Personally, I think you'll pull through. You've always been
the strongest willed of the family."
"And the meanest," Terri adds.
"Hush!" Mom hisses.
"What? That's a good thing!" Terri protests.
"So why are you guys here? I know you both died."
"That's true and I can't begin to tell you how much Terri and I
appreciate all that you did to bring our killers to justice."
"Real bulldog stuff, Sis, but you were never one to let things go."
"I remember this one time when you were in third grade," Mom says. "You
were in the boy's bathroom and had just finished up when this older boy
began to urinate on a younger boy, making him cry. You ran out to the
water fountain, filled your mouth, ran back in and sprayed the older boy
in the face. The principal was so angry. I told him that I was proud of
you for defending the younger boy."
"Alex always did think outside of the box, Mom. In sixth grade, at
recess, three jerks took my stocking cap and started to play keep away.
Alex stepped in and told them to give it back. He said that if they
didn't, he was going to flatten whoever had the hat regardless of
whether he threw to another person or not. If anyone picked up the hat,
they were next. The biggest jerk had the hat and he just laughed. Alex
charged him at top speed, the jerk threw my hat into the air and Alex
hit him in the chest with both hands as he ran right through him. The
jerk landed in a snow bank and the hat landed in the middle of the
playground and no one even moved a muscle. Alex came over, picked up the
hat, gave it to me and we walked away. No one ever took my hat again."
"This sounds like a wake, guys. Why are you here?"
"Why, to keep you company, Alex," Mom says. "Or should I say Alexia?
Such a lovely name! You really are beautiful. So much like me but ... more
so. I can't explain it."
"Why do you look so young? And why is Terry ... Terri?"
"I'm Terri because that is what I want to be, Alexia. Mom is young
because that is when she feels she was most beautiful."
"So why am I Alexia instead of Alex?"
Mom smiles at me. "I think you know the answer to that one, Honey. It's
the same reason that you're pregnant. It's what you want."
"Wait a minute! I was as shocked as anyone when I found out."
"Part of you was but part of you knew. Oh, Alexia! I wish I had been a
better mother to you and Terri, a better example of what a mother should
be. I know you'll be a wonderful mother despite my failings."
"If I don't die."
"You won't. Can't you feel it? You're being pulled back even as we
speak. The only reason you're still here is because you want to stay and
visit and you're strong enough to fight it but the pull back will soon
become too strong for even you to resist. Just remember, we both love
you and will watch over you, though you may not need much."
"Mom ... I've done some terrible things, killed so many ... I never wanted
to do anything like that but, if I hadn't, things could have been so
much worse."
"I'm sorry you got stuck with this, Sis," Terri says with a sigh. "I
could never have done what you've done. I'd have screwed it up big
time."
"I knew that you were the one for the job, Alexia," Mom says. "From the
very first meeting with Mirantha, it was obvious. I told her to wait for
you at the graveyard. I didn't have your cell number or where you were
living, you were always so secretive."
"So that's what that whole 'visit me at my grave' stuff was about!"
"Sorry, but it worked. We don't have much time left, milicycles I think
is what you say over there. Be strong, my baby. Do what you know in your
heart is right and you'll be fine. Also, give me lots of grandchildren."
"I'll do my best, Mom."
"I know you will, Alexia." She leans over, kisses me on the forehead and
walks to the front door. She pauses, looking back at me, smiling
broadly. "You're a good daughter."
Terri follows her and also stops at the doorway.
"Remember, Bro. You're at your best when you do the unexpected. And wear
something sexy now and then for me."
"For you and Johnathyn."
"That Hubby of yours, he's a hunk! Rrrroooowwww!"
We both laugh. Mom guides Terri out the door, winks at me, smiles one
last time with tears brightening her eyes and then she leaves, the door
quietly closing behind her.
* * * *** * * * *** * * *
Oh MAN! The pain!
I hurt all over! It even hurts to think about moving! Just opening my
eyes causes my breath to catch and then my lungs and ribs hurt! I want
to say something but all I get out is a low, quiet groan.
Instantly, someone is hovering in my face. It's Silva Cunha, one of our
better Healers.
"My Queen!" she gasps. "You live! Bless Zaphod and Jillian, you live!"
"Don't know how much they had to do with it," I wheeze. "But I'll take
whatever I can get."
I'm on my back in bed, covered by a light blanket. Slowly turning my
head to the left, then the right, I see that I'm in my tent, alone
except for Silva. Trying to sit up, Silva quickly places her hand on my
chest, stopping me.
"My Queen, you should not move. You have been grievously injured!"
I carefully fall back but reach up and grab her wrist. "I have to know.
How is my baby?"
She smiles, gently prying her hand free of my grip. "All is well.
Dierdra insisted on seeing you herself before retiring."
"Where is she?"
"She is recovering in her tent."
"Recovering? Is she hurt?"
"No, simply exhausted. She overextended herself in saving your life."
"She was the one who saved me?"
"Only in part. She kept you from falling to your death. It was the Guard
who found you and brought you back here."
"Was there a fight?"
Silva steps back, looking away. "It is best that you not be upset so
soon after your injuries."
"Why would I be upset? What happened, Silva?"
"My Queen, it is not my place ..."
"Cunha! Tell me what happened!"
"I am not privy to all the details."
"Tell me what you know!"
"Dierdra left strict instructions that I was not to ..."
"CUNHA!" Owwww. That hurt.
"Yes, my Queen," she reluctantly complies. "You landed in the forest
after the cowardly attack on your person. You had been falling from the
sky but Dierdra conjured a mighty wind to slow your fall. You were found
by a squad of Guardsmen who fought their way back towards our encampment
while General Packer led a large group of men in the other direction
towards them. One man came out of the woods carrying you on his shoulder
and he met up with our other men. Unfortunately, a large number of
rebels came upon the scene and there was a terrible fight. The Guard
prevailed and you were brought back here where Dierdra and I cared for
you until you awoke just now."
"That's it? Nothing more?"
"None that I know of, my Queen."
"How many casualties?"
"No one has provided me with exact numbers."
"Ballpark numbers then."
"I do not understand, my Queen."
Aarrrgh! "Approximately how many were hurt or killed, Silva?"
"That is hard to say for certain. Not all of the men have returned to
their squads and the regiment commanders have yet to report actual
numbers ..."
"CUNHA!!" That hurt but not as badly as before. "Tell me what you know
as of now! I'm tired of dragging information out of you!"
"My Queen, Dierdra said that ..."
"Dierdra's not here and I am!
She sighs deeply. "Over sixty."
"Wounded?"
"No, my Queen. Dead. Many more than that wounded."
My God! Sixty plus. All my fault. I didn't see the ambush and over sixty
men died! What am I doing out here? What am I accomplishing? Wait a
decicycle ...
"Silva, what are you doing here? Why aren't you with the wounded?"
"You were our first concern, my Queen."
"Well, I'm fine. Go help out with the men. They need you more than I do.
If you could, have General Packer come in to see me. We need to make
some decisions about my future."
She doesn't move, paralyzed by uncertainty. You can read it on her face.
"Silva, I told you to go. I'll be fine."
She still doesn't move.
"Silva, what's the problem?"
"General Packer cannot come to see you."
"Why not?" She won't look at me. "Silva, why not?"
"As I said, he led the charge to save you. It was very brave of him."
Oh no! No no no! "Is Packer dead?"
"No, my Queen. Not dead ... not yet ... at least no one has told me that he
has died but it may be just a matter of time."
"What are you saying?!"
"He was injured. Badly injured. They were surprised that he lived long
enough to be brought back to the camp."
I push myself up off the bed, stifling the impulse to scream in pain.
"Help me up" I gasp through gritted teeth.
"No! You mustn't! You will re-open your wounds!"
"So what? It won't kill me. I've got a job to do."
"That is not a certainty, Alexia. You are far from well. As for your
job, you are weak. I can feel it. What can you do?"
I fight my way upright, tossing the blanket aside and carefully swing my
legs over the side of the bed. I'm not wearing anything and can see
numerous bandages on my arms, legs, torso and feel some on my head.
"I may be weak but I'm still the baddest witch in this camp. No one can
do what I can. Find me some clothes to wear."
"I refuse. You are not fit to be up and about. You are endangering your
health and the health of your child."
"Won't be the first time, maybe not the last. I have the choice but
Packer doesn't."
"He risked his life to save yours. You dishonor his sacrifice by doing
this."
"That's crap. He helped save me and I'm helping to save him. Find me
some clothes, damn it!"
"He may already be dead!"
"Then let's go find out. Get me some clothes!"
"Alexia, it is not wise to ..."
Extending my right hand, I turn it over and open it, palm up. A small
ball of flame appears and steadily grows as I tremble with the effort.
"Clothes. Now."
* * *** * * * *** * * *
Silva finally relented and gathered some of my clothes. I sent her out
to find a cane for me because I didn't want her to see my struggles to
get dressed. When every little movement causes pain, you get very
economical with your motions. It's slow and I have to pause every few
decicycles to catch my breath but I eventually get dressed in my most
basic clothes; ankle length light blue button front cotton dress belted
at the waist, simple white bra and panties, slip on shoes. I've just
managed to stand up straight by leaning on a chair that almost fell over
when Silva returns with a cane. I take it in my right hand and grab her
arm with my left.
"Let's go," I gasp.
"My Queen ..."
"No arguments, Silva."
She sets out for the Healer's tent with me hobbling along besides her.
* * * *** * * * *** * * *
"She lives, Tasher! She escaped my trap, she escaped my men and she
lives to tell the tale!"
"Are you certain, First Minister?"
"I am certain" replies a voice from outside my tent. The flap is pushed
aside and Queen Tammy steps in, followed by two of her guard. She is the
last person I wish to see at this time.
"What are you doing here? Return to your tent immediately!"
"You did not fail completely, Dupree. You failed to either kill or
capture Alexia but you did weaken her significantly. The other witches
in her camp are also stressed and low on power. All thanks to your
toys."
"What does it matter?" Tasher spits. "She will withdraw from the field,
regain her powers and then come looking for us. Her vengeance will be
swift and horrible. We are all doomed men."
Tasher is right. A wounded Alexia is ultimately more dangerous to me
than any other person, witch or not. However, he is wrong about her
vengeance being swift and horrible.
"No, General. She will take her time, savoring and enjoying each
excruciating milicycle."
"All the more reason that I should challenge her to a fight," declares
the witch.
"It would be madness for her to accept, you fool!" Tasher shouts. "She
need only wait until she has sufficiently recovered her strength and
then fall upon us along with that dragon of hers. Or perhaps this time
it will be two or maybe three dragons! We have lost! It is time to run,
while we can!"
"Utter twaddle," Tammy calmly declares. "You know nothing of witches,
Tasher. She will have no choice but to accept the challenge. It is our
way and has been so since time began. And I will defeat her. Yes, she is
alive but greatly weakened. I feel it, as would you if you were a
witch."
"Thank Zaphod for small favors," he growls.
She raises her hand to strike at him. "You witless cur! You have
insulted me for the last time! Feel my wrath!"
Before she can do anything, I step between them.
"General Tasher! Queen Tammy! Both of you cease this quarreling
immediately! We all need each other more than ever now."
Tasher moves away from us about thee decileagues, stops and glowers at
Tammy. She turns to confront me.
"What is your plan, Dupree? Do you also wish to run and hide, afraid of
your own shadow just as a frightened bunny?"
"See here! There is no call for insults. Alexia is an extremely
dangerous foe now."
"Then where is the harm in me challenging her? Do you have a better
choice available? Does the brilliant General Tasher?" she taunts.
"Have a care who you disparage, witch!" he threatens.
She ignores him, continuing to press me. "What is your risk? The Guard
has fewer men, even after all she has killed of yours and those that
have fled in fear. You still have your secret weapons, though little
good they did you."
"They are no longer secret," Tasher notes.
"The fact of which supports my challenge," Tammy continues. "Everything
supports me. I have fought the Guard since I was a young woman. I know
when to run and when to attack. You attack while your enemy is weak.
Right now, Alexia is week."
"Except the reality of our position, Queen Tammy," he says, sarcasm
dripping from each word. "No sane person would accept the challenge."
"Should that not be her choice, First Minister Dupree?" she asks,
ignoring Tasher completely. "If she rejects it, you are no worse off. If
she accepts it, you win. We both win."
"Idiocy!" Tasher cries.
I say nothing, considering what Tammy has proposed. Tasher is correct.
Alexia should never accept but she is young and foolhardy, still
impulsive and reckless. I should not assume that she would always act as
rationally as I would. We trapped her once before. Perhaps we can do it
again but in a different way.
"General, how quickly can you assemble all my men?"
Tasher is upset. "Dupree! You cannot be considering this!"
"Queen Tammy is correct. We have no other plan than running away, which
only delays the inevitable."
"It gives us time to think of something much more likely to succeed,
First Minister."
"Which would be what? Our Queen is willing to risk all. I believe that
we should join her. You are certain that you can win ... my Queen?"
She stands still and erect, full of herself. "Of that there is no doubt.
She is wasting what little magical power she has on trying to help her
men. I let yours die to preserve my power. I may not be Opulessa but
Alexia is not at full strength. She is barely a Sixty One!"
"So, a fair fight?"
"Against a much more experienced opponent. Remember, I am still here
after all Opulessa's efforts to kill me. I have killed many who sought
my death. That must count for something."
She might be correct. It is worth pursuing. "General Tasher, let us talk
about where and when such a challenge can take place."
"Dupree, I implore you ..."
"Just talk, General." I swing my arm towards the flap of my tent. After
a moment's hesitation, he storms out. I prepare to follow him but Tammy
grabs my arm.
"It must be soon, Dupree. She must not be given the chance to recover."
I bow towards her. "Understood, my Queen." I then leave the tent and
find Tasher waiting for me, full of anger. I raise my hand to halt any
immediate protests. "Yes, it is unlikely that Alexia, or more probably,
General Packer, would ever accept such a challenge; however, there is no
harm in making the offer. Should it be accepted, it would let us get
another chance to strike at Alexia before she is strong enough to
overwhelm us."
"So, we are in agreement that wagering everything on that old hag's
victory is beyond foolish?"
"Absolutely in agreement. If she should win, so much the better but we
need to be prepared for all possibilities."
"Including the strong possibility that they will laugh in our faces for
even suggesting it."
"Nothing attempted, nothing achieved, General. How quickly can you be
ready?"
CHAPTER FIFTY EIGHT
I walk as quickly as I can but it still takes forever to get to the
Healer's Tent. When we step in, all activity comes to a halt.
"Carry on!" I order and everyone starts right back up. The lead Healer
hurries towards me and curtsies.
"My Queen! You should not be here! Your injuries ..."
"Are of no consequence. I do appreciate all you and your staff have done
for me and the Guard. Excellent work. I am here to see General Packer.
Take me to him."
She hesitates, quickly glancing back over her right shoulder before
returning her attention to me with sad eyes.
"My Queen," she begins with a big sigh, "General Packer died almost
twenty decicycles ago. We did all that we could but it was not enough."
"No one dies until I say they die. Take me to him now."
"But, my Queen, he has passed over."
"Not yet, he hasn't. Where is he?"
She leads us to a group of bodies laid out on a long table. So many
bodies. My mind can't help trying to count them before I drag my
attention to a lone body off to the side. It's Packer, laying on his
back, hands across his chest. A quick look tells me that he has at least
three chest wounds and a head wound.
"Silva, get me a chair and then you lend a hand to whoever needs it
most. I'll be just a decicycle."
She leaves my side, grabs a chair, sets it next to the body and then
waits, along with the lead Healer.
"You two need to find other patients to help. I'll take care of the
General."
Silva still won't leave me. "Alexia, there is nothing you can do for
him. He has passed."
"So did I. It didn't take."
I slowly drop down into the chair and lay my hands on the body. It's
still warm but there is no reaction. I close my eyes and begin my search
for signs of life.
No heartbeat, no brain activity, lungs deflated and flaccid with several
holes and lots of damage. Broken ribs and a shattered left shoulder. His
liver and digestive system have already begun to breakdown. This won't
be easy. Best start slowly.
I let the magic trickle in, concentrating on the damaged lungs and
getting his heart beating. I can't have a brain damaged general. The
lungs aren't repaired so they're leaking air like a broken bellows but
some of the blood is getting oxygenated and the heart is moving it
around. The body's systems are sputtering back to a minimum operating
level like an old Ford Model T auto but I have to use magic to keep
everything running. Nothing will keep working if I remove the magic.
The toxins in his blood are being filtered out by his kidneys but they
need constant monitoring. Same for the liver. Things are beginning to
look up but that leaves the brain for last. I don't know how much I've
got left to use but Packer will get all I have to give.
I begin to push the magic into his brain, first in the brain stem and
then up into the main body of the brain, including both hemispheres,
first on the surface but then deeper. I can see synapses firing but they
appear to be random but I've never studied a working brain before so
that may be normal. I keep pushing, looking for signs of life that I'm
not controlling with magic, but haven't seen any so far. I'm just about
to reach my limit when Packers eyes suddenly fly open and he coughs
several times.
"Where am I?" he croaks, his voice as dry and cracked as his lips.
Silva nearly collapses in shock.
"Alexia! What have you done?!" she exclaims, drawing the attention of
every nearby Healer. I ignore them all.
"You're in the Healer's tent," I whisper into his ear. "I've brought you
back from the brink of death, General."
"Why?" he gasps.
"I told you, no one dies on my watch, not if I can help it."
By now, any Healer not immediately working with a patient has gathered
around me. Word had quickly spread that General Packer had died and just
as quickly that he has come back from the dead.
That kind of rumor tends to get your attention.
"Water," he requests. One of the Healers tips his head forward and
carefully pours a small amount of water in his mouth. I need to operate
his throat and tongue so that he can swallow. What seems so easy for a
person to do on their own is devilishly hard to do for someone else.
Most of the water runs out of his mouth but some of it makes it to his
throat.
"Thank you," he says a bit louder. "Alexia, why have you done this to
me?"
"I told you already. No one dies if I can prevent it."
"But I had died. It was a good death, a soldier's death. I had already
passed over. My family was waiting for me. My recently deceased mother
was there as were many old comrades. Lucretia, the love of my life, was
just about to greet me when I was brought back here."
"I can fix you, Dyson. It'll take time but I can do it. I just need to
get some more witches together, keep you on life support and start
repairs. I can save your life!"
"To what end? Have I not done my duty to Queen and country? Do I not
deserve my final reward? What more can I do?"
"I need you, Dyson. Your Queen still needs your advice, your judgment,
your support. I can't do this without you, General. Besides, you said
you wanted to open a print shop when you retired. We were going to build
you a printing press. Remember? We can still do it. I can make it all
possible."
"That was just a passing fancy, Alexia. An old soldier looking for
something to do while awaiting death." His eyes look around him while
his head remains still. They open wider when he recognizes someone.
"Sergeant Timbler, explain it to her. Please!"
I look up and recognize Timbler. He was one of the men that Lilly and I
saved days ago. He's got an arm in a sling and leaning on a crutch. What
is he doing here? He appears to be shocked at what he sees.
"I heard it but could not believe it! Is it really you, General, Sir?"
"Yes. Save me Sergeant. Explain it to the Queen so that she understands.
I beg you!"
"What does he mean, Sergeant?" I ask.
Timbler looks down at me, nervously licks his lips, then hops a little
to get squared up to me.
"It's like this, Alexia. The General here is a military man, spent
practically all his life in uniform. Worked his way up from the ranks.
Seen a lot of fighting, killed a lot of people, done his duty. He's also
sent a lot of good men to their deaths because that was his duty too.
When you're an officer, that's what officers do, among other things.
When you're the top officer, that's about all you do. Eventually, if
you're a good officer, you get so you can't do that no more, not without
trouble to your head. Sooner or later, you have to stop or go mad.
You're still a military man, you just can't do it no more. That can make
you mad too. The lucky military man dies at war, doing his duty. For the
General here, the way he went, you could not ask for none better. Saving
the Queen's life? That's a top drawer death there for a real military
man."
"What if the job isn't done yet? What if he is still needed? What if
there are people left behind who still need his help and advice?"
"Begging your Majesty's pardon and all, but, if that's the real reason
for doing all this, tain't that a bit selfish on your part? I only say
that because when you saved me and the lads, I didn't see a selfish hair
on your head, if you know what I mean."
"So what are you telling me, Sergeant?"
"I tain't telling you anything, Ma'am. I'm just saying what the
General's been telling you. Tain't that right, General, Sir?"
"Yes," Packer says. "Well done, Timbler."
"Thank you, Sir." Timbler hops back into the crowd.
I've screwed up again. Looking at all these bodies, I just want it to
end. I thought if I could save Packer, he could help me do that and I
wouldn't feel so guilty about his death and all the others but now I see
that those are my problems, not his.
"I'm sorry, Dyson. Please forgive me. I shouldn't have done this to you
or anyone else. It's simply too much. You deserve to get all you are
entitled to. It was a pleasure to work with you, General Dyson Packer."
"I also enjoyed our time together. I believe you will eventually be the
greatest Queen this world has ever seen, Alexia Thompson Tyber, and I am
proud to have served you. One last thing for Sergeant Timbler. There are
two bottles of very old Klatch in my tent. They are to be given to the
Sergeant for him to share with his squad. We made a pledge. Under the
circumstances, I'll stand for both bottles."
"Very generous of you, Sir," says Timbler. "Me and the lads will be
proud to drink to your memory and future happiness."
"Thank you, Sergeant. I'm ready, my Queen."
"Goodbye, Dyson."
I pull all the magic back as Packer returns to where I had torn him
from. Was it Heaven? Was it the same place I may have been? I feel all
alone and helpless for a few milicycles as everyone around me returns to
work. Another good man lost to this war. I need to put an end to this
now. No matter what the cost to me, it must end now.
"Are you well, Alexia?" asks Timbler. He had lingered behind as the
others left.
"Yes, Sergeant, I'm reasonably well. A little beat up physically and
emotionally but getting better."
"And the young one?"
"Also well, or so I've been told. How did you know?"
"We all know, what with the rescue and all. Hard to not spread that
news. We're all happy for you, Ma'am."
"Is that how you were hurt, saving our lives?"
"Well, me and the lads were out on patrol and got swept up in all the
fighting. We made it back to camp without anyone hurt too bad. They say
I'm laid up for a few weeks."
"I could take care of that if you wish."
"No thank you Ma'am. I'll just take the time to heal if it's all the
same to you. They may even give me time to go home and see the family."
"I'll make sure of it. I can't tell you how sorry I am that all this
happened. I should have been smarter, I should have seen the ambush. All
these men killed or injured because of my mistakes."
"No one tells me anything, Ma'am, but the skettershot is that you was
trying to help some poor troopers caught in the same kind of trouble you
found me and the lads in. That they weren't what they seemed is no
reflection on you. If you'd been more careful back earlier, I wouldn't
be alive today to get hurt trying to save you. It's a funny ol' world."
"That it is, Sergeant. Is there anything I can do for you to show my
appreciation?"
"You wouldn't know how I could lay me hands on them bottles of Klatch
now, would you?"
* * * *** * * * *** * * *
I felt the surge of magic while resting in my tent. Alexia was
attempting something that required a large amount of magic, even more
than that dragon of hers. She was supposed to be conserving her energy.
Instead, she is expending it.
That girl will be the death of me yet!
I have just managed to sit up on the edge of the bed when Silva bursts
into my tent, red faced and out of breath.
"What has she done now?" I ask, afraid to hear her answer.
"I would not have believed it if I had not seen it with my own eyes! She
raised General Packer from the dead!"
"He was truly dead?"
"As dead as five day old fish."
"You must be mistaken, Silva."
"Dierdra, I have been a Healer for over thirty years, I know dead when I
see it. Packer was dead and then he spoke of what he saw on the other
side, that his departed friends and family greeted him."
"No witch has ever brought a dead man back to life, not one who was
truly dead."
"She appeared to be living for the both of them. I could see the strain
in her face."
"The fool! She already lives for two! Does she care nothing for her
child! Where is General Packer now?"
"Returned to the land of the dead. He asked that Alexia allow him to die
and she agreed."
"She does the impossible one decicycle and then reverses it the next?
Why did she do it in the first?"
"She did not say. After Packer died again, she turned to treating the
other badly injured men. No others died today."
How can I not be pleased at that news? Yet, it may come with a terrible
price. "How is Alexia?"
"Greatly fatigued. We have both seen it before but it is worse this
time. With her injuries ..."
"I well know it. Why did you not stop her?"
Silva gave me a look of exasperation.
I should not have even bothered asking the question. Alexia is very
strong willed. "I apologize, Silva. You tried your best, of that I am
certain."
"I did. She has returned to her tent and was asleep but who knows how
long that will last."
"Agreed. We should prepare her a meal that she may be able to eat in the
morning. I will speak with her after she awakes to try to dissuade her
from this dangerous path."
"I fear that is impossible, Dierdra."
She may be correct about that.
* * * *** * * * *** * * *
There was a ringing of the bell outside my tent flap. I've been asleep
for over eight cycles but it feels like only four. I hadn't bothered to
get undressed, just flopped into bed after I got back from the Healer's
tent. I still hurt all over but the pain is down to a dull throb. Some
of the bandages came loose during the night and the cuts that I can see
have healed quite a bit, certainly more than I expected. I slowly slide
out of the bed, slip my shoes on and shuffle to the entrance of my tent.
I must look like death warmed over.
"Who is it?" I mumble.
"The General Staff, my Queen. We beg an audience with you."
I assumed I'd have to meet Dyson's replacement sooner or later. Guess
the military can't really afford a respectful period of mourning.
"Sure, come on in."
I turn and shuffle back to the small table where Dyson and I used to eat
together and shoot the breeze. Three officers enter and wait as I sit
down with a muted groan. I look up at them. I've seen them all before
but never really talked with them, I always dealt with General Packer.
They look nervous.
I force a smile. "Have a seat, Gentlemen. No reason to stand on
ceremony."
There's a momentary hesitation and then the shortest one steps forward,
quickly followed by the other two. The short one takes the chair
opposite me and the other two sit on either side.
"Sorry about my appearance. I was up late and haven't had time to get
presentable yet."
They look back and forth between themselves before Shorty speaks up. "No
apology needed, my Queen. You appear to us as you always do, perfectly
attired."
I glance down at my dress, expecting to see a sea of wrinkles but it
looks as if it is fresh from the laundry, clean and neatly pressed. Must
be my subconscious taking care of me.
"You're too kind General ... I'm sorry, I don't think we've been
introduced."
He pops up and bows. "I am General Joshua Dekes, second in command of
the Queen's Guard. This is General Laughlin Slyter." The man to my right
hops up and bows. "And this is General Pytor Fortney." The man on my
left does the same. "We are General Packer's staff and next in the chain
of command for the Queen's Guard. Due to General Packer's death, it is
necessary to appoint a new Commander of the Guard. As Queen, the choice
is yours."
"Sit down, Gentlemen. Technically, I haven't returned to the throne yet,
General Dekes, so I'm not really the Queen."
"General Packer considered you to be the Queen as do we, Ma'am."
"As do all the men of the Guard," adds General Slyter.
"That is true," says Dekes. "We will honor whatever choice you make."
"General Packer had told me that there were a number of competent
officers on his staff, all capable of replacing him. He did not give me
names but I will assume that he was referring to you three. There is no
reason to shake up the command structure while in the middle of a war.
Not good for morale. You are the new Commander of my Guard, General
Dekes, and I leave it to your good judgment to arrange your own staff."
All three of them visibly relax, with Slyter and Fortney bowing their
heads ever so slightly towards a smiling General Dekes. Better give him
the bad news right now.
"General Dekes, I intend to let you run the Guard but I will set the
objectives. I want this war to end as soon as possible. I am tired of
losing good men like General Packer. This war must end and I will do
whatever is necessary to end it."
Dekes is shocked. "You do not intend to surrender, do you, my Queen?"
"No! I want to end it by winning it!"
He relaxes again. "I am pleased to hear that, my Queen. I agree that we
need to be victorious and sooner is better than later but Dupree's army
remains a formidable foe despite their recent losses. Rash actions on
our part could lead to more deaths on our side."
The other two nod their heads sagely. You can tell why Packer trusted
this group, they all believe as he did.
"General Dekes, I intend to do all that I can to win this war. If I have
to go on the offensive on my own, that's what I'm going to do. The Guard
can join me or they can watch me."
"My Queen, have we not already seen the results of that strategy? How
many died yesterday?"
He's a very brave man to say that to me. Packer was right.
"I had General Packer's authority for what I did. In fact, he asked me
to take to the air. I am willing to take responsibil