Hours later, they remained cradled together within the quiet solitude of Greyfriar's Kirk.
AFTER ENDLESS DREARY clouds and misty rain, the day was bright and clear. The sky above Greyfriar's Kirk was tinted an azure blue. Adele set the bouquet of highly scented wildflowers on the stone tomb bearing Baudoin's name. The townspeople had carved the headstone with great care. Gareth's eyes had been shining when they presented it. It didn't look as ancient as others in the cemetery, but it would eventually. There were mounds of flowers, almost cloying in their sweetness, around the headstone, left there by the citizens of Edinburgh for their fallen.
Adele stepped back with Gareth's help and clasped his waist, holding him close to her. Her body still felt drained, but she was more alive than ever before. When she glanced up at him now there were no tears in his eyes, although there were some in hers.
“Do you think he'll mind?”
“Mind what?”
“The flowers. It's a custom. A human one.”
Gareth regarded her with a puzzled expression. “Why would he mind? He's dead.”
Adele cuffed him and then tried to explain. “Humans like to think people who have passed on can still hear us. It comforts us. Hopefully, Baudoin sees how beloved he was.”
“Yes.”
“I miss him.”
“Yes.” Gareth stood staring at the tomb.
Adele noticed Gareth was growing morose at the sight of his friend's grave, so she tugged him gently to lead him through the kirkyard. The surrounding monuments with their stone lamentations reminded her just how close she came to losing Gareth. Her chest tightened, so she held onto the joy all the tighter.
They passed a recently opened crypt, now a mausoleum for the cats of the castle, and Adele paused to remember them, her eyes misting with tears. She thought it only fitting they have a place here at Greyfriar's Kirk. Their rambunctious presence in the castle had given her the first hint of the humanity dwelling inside Gareth.
A wide shadow passed over them. Looking up they saw Edinburgh's hull fly over toward a landing zone at the castle.
“They're back!” Adele shouted. She wanted to run, following the descending airship, but a rapid walk was the best she could manage. By the time they climbed up Castle Hill, she was gasping for breath and hanging on Gareth for support. On the gangplank from the moored airship, Adele noted the flowing robes of Captain Hariri, and then behind him came the figure of General Anhalt.
The sirdar walked with halting steps, leaning heavily on a mahogany cane. His left sleeve was pinned armless to the front of his tunic. His dark face showed the pallor of exhaustion and sported horrific scarring from savage burns. Adele struggled to keep the pain from her expression at the sight of her beloved Anhalt, who had been so brutalized in his endless service to her.
Broad smiles spread over both men as they caught sight of the approaching couple. For the benefit of her station, she should have greeted them formally, but Adele was so overjoyed to see them again, she couldn't help but press into them with as strong a bear hug as she could manage. She breathed in the spicy scent of Alexandria.
“Dear General Anhalt.” She put a hand on his arm and kissed his cheek. “Why are you exerting yourself with these travels so soon? There are many others who are in better condition.”
He appeared confused by her concern and said, with slightly slurred speech, “I am well enough, Majesty. And there is much to do.”
It had been only three months since the consecration in Greyfriar's Kirk. After healing their terrible wounds enough to travel, Adele and Gareth had raced to London on Edinburgh to discover what had happened there. On the journey south, they had seen thousands of vampires, all dead. Cadavers burned to ash, lying black and flaking in the wind. In London, they found the crash site that had once been Buckingham Palace. The burnt wreckage of Bolivar spread over the ground and, to their amazement, they found a few survivors in the hands of kind Londoners. General Anhalt had lived through the conflagration, but just barely. As soon as he could be moved, the general had taken Edinburgh at her best speed back to Equatoria. Now he had returned, bringing ships and troops to occupy London.
“How was Alexandria?” Adele asked eagerly as they proceeded slowly across the castle grounds.
“Warm. Dry.” Hariri angrily drew his coat tight against the damp. “How could there be a land where it rains so much? It's unnatural.”
She raised an eyebrow at the usually more affable captain.
Anhalt leaned over to the empress to explain. “The admiralty tried to promote him. Offered him an office.”
“Would that not be a great honor?” Gareth asked.
Hariri huffed. “I don't need their pity or their daily schedule.”