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The Kingmakers(30)

By:Clay Griffith Susan Griffith


“And then we could be king and queen of Britain.” With those murmured words, Adele drifted into sleep once more, too tired to keep her eyes open.

“Yes. I suppose we could,” Greyfriar replied

However, the respite could only last for the hours that she was asleep. The aftermath of the battle for Grenoble was as horrible as anything she had seen among the vampires. In the next few days, as she lay on her own bed in the secluded room, she heard the constant cries of pain and loss for hours. Whenever Greyfriar was at her side, wrapping her in his embrace, she tried to block out the horror. But soon she realized she couldn’t, or more importantly, shouldn’t. The thought of all the men who sacrificed everything convinced her that she needed to see them, talk to them, and thank them.

Eventually, Adele recovered enough of her strength to visit the makeshift medical ward housed in a long stone building where the battalion medical officer and his aide worked day after day to keep the wounded alive. The toll had been heavy, almost a third of the division dead or wounded, but the operation had succeeded. According to scouts and supply ships moving in from the coast, the entire valley was free of vampires.

The nervous and exhausted doctor met Adele and Greyfriar at the front door of the surgery. Captain Shirazi and the Harmattan took position outside, and after much to-do, the doctor escorted the couple to the first ward. Greyfriar held the door open for Adele as she entered, enduring a scowl from an orderly standing there to do the same. Taking a deep breath to steel herself against what she might see, she strode forward with Greyfriar behind her.

Thirty cots lined each side of the long room. Adele walked up boldly to the first wounded man, a youngster of about twenty. Then she remembered she was the same age; she felt years beyond it. No doubt so did he. With a brave smile, she greeted him. His forearm was wrapped in clean, white linen, and a bandage on his right cheek had slipped a little, revealing a deep gash, crudely stitched.

“Hello,” Adele said.

“Your Majesty?” The boy’s face flushed pink and he struggled to sit up, his eyes flicking to the famed Greyfriar and then back to his empress.

“Be still,” she urged him. “What’s your name?”

“Massud. Private Massud, ma’am.”

“Well, Private Massud, I’ve come to thank you for your service to the Empire.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Are you in much pain?”

“I’m feeling fine, ma’am.”

“You were with the Thirty-sixth Fighting Lancers.”

The young man nodded and then quickly realized his lapse in manners. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“You fought well, I’m told.”

“Thank you, ma’am. We all did. What’s left of us.”

Adele paused. “Is there anything I can get for you?”

“No, Your Majesty.”

“Perhaps a note to your family?”

He nodded, and Adele took out pen and paper from her coat pocket. “What would you like to tell them?”

“That I’m alive. No, that I’m well. Wouldn’t want my mother to worry.”

“Of course. And their address?” When he gave it, Adele took the note and put it in her pocket. “I will make sure this gets to her so she doesn’t worry. I will tell her you fought bravely.”

His eyes were glistening. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

She patted his hand gently and rose. Greyfriar fell into step next to her as they moved to the next patient. She wasn’t sure if the men appreciated her gesture or not, or viewed it as artificial politics, but she only felt that it was important to do so. It was little enough and far from saintly in her mind. Again she glanced at the foot of the bed before speaking to the man with a thin mustache. Both his legs were elevated and in casts.

“Sergeant Fauntleroy.”

“Your Majesty.”

“That looks quite painful.”

“Not at all, ma’am. I merely tripped on the hem of my dress while getting a beer.”

She regarded him with astonishment before catching his wink and smile. Then she laughed. “Very hazardous duty indeed.”

“You have no idea, ma’am.” He offered a salute to Greyfriar, who nodded at the sergeant.

“You’ve done your Empire a great service,” Adele said.

“If you call thunking vampires on the head service instead of pleasure, well then I suppose so.”

Adele couldn’t keep the grin from her face as she thanked him again. She regarded her escort. “You may talk to them if you wish. I’m sure a kind word from you would mean a great deal.”

Greyfriar’s head tilted as it was wont to do when he was perplexed. “There is no reason for me to say anything. They know their worth. They fought bravely. You won.”