“Time grows short, General.” Her fear for Gareth being left unsupported in the north made the comment more biting than she intended.
The general merely said, “I understand, Your Majesty.”
There was a knock at the door, and she called out to enter. Her secretary appeared in the door looking officious, with an army officer in the corridor behind. “Your Majesty, there is an urgent message for the sirdar.”
Adele motioned the young soldier in. He tried to march ahead with military aloofness, but his eyes were wide. He stared at the empress and at her sanctum. General Anhalt appeared in front of him like a statue stained with blood.
Anhalt slipped a finger under the flap of the envelope and drew out the single sheet of close typing. As he read, his shoulders dropped and his eyes closed.
Adele came to him with concern. “What is it, General?”
“Rotherford’s position at St. Etienne has been overrun. His corps is in full retreat with massive casualties reported.”
“Dear God. How?” Adele’s thoughts went from worry about Gareth beyond the bloody frontier to the endless train of young men slogging through the mud, huddling in the endless night, terrified of death.
“Fresh packs. Apparently, a huge reinforcement of vampires kept up an attack for three days without pause.” Anhalt rubbed his brow and retrieved his khaki helmet with its scarab badge. “Barely a month from Greyfriar’s deadline, the new moon after the equinox. This dispatch is a week old at best.”
“Did Field Marshal Rotherford survive?”
The general scanned the sheet again and nodded. “Unfortunately, yes.”
Adele touched his sleeve. “You must go.” It took a great deal of effort to phrase it as a statement and not a plaintive question.
“Yes. I must return to the continent immediately to salvage the situation or we could lose untold ground.”
“I understand.” She placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Stay safe.”
He took her hand in his and reverently kissed it. Then he stepped back and saluted. “With your blessing, Your Majesty.”
Adele nodded and then watched her general, her confidant, and her friend march from the room, leaving it quiet and still. Anhalt was gone.
Simon was gone.
Mamoru was gone.
Gareth was gone.
One by one she was losing all those she trusted, and the one she loved. There were so few people whose counsel she relied on, and that circle was growing smaller every day. Soon she would be alone and the only advice she could depend on was her own.
Adele’s hand brushed the huge wooden globe. She imagined her father standing here. His large hand covered twice the land her slender hand could. She wondered if he would be proud of her. Every day as she grew lonelier, she felt closer to him and understood what he must have felt, separate and distant from his friends, family, and subjects, each one slipping further and further away with every decision made. The burden of sovereignty was heavier than she had realized.
And now Gareth walked the same path.
“WHAT SHALL WE do?” Sanah asked from her place on the leather sofa.
“I believe I shall have another gin and tonic.” Sir Godfrey gave a heroic attempt at a laugh and winked sadly at his companion.
The library of his Giza town home seemed terribly dark, even frightening. Just the two of them now. Nzingu gone north and out of touch. Mamoru missing and likely dead. Both Sanah and Sir Godfrey were lonely and disconnected without the force driving their cabal. They had no idea what to do next. Or even if anything could be done.
Sir Godfrey fixed a haphazard drink with very little tonic in his gin, and drank half of it in one swallow. He stared at his bookshelves and shook his head. “I simply can’t believe it.”
Sanah didn’t reply, knowing he would continue.
And he did, tapping the thick gin bottle with a fingernail. “Even with all our preparation, we weren’t ready. We still underestimated them. We had one chance, one bullet if you will, and they took it away from us. But not by killing her, don’t you see. That’s the damnable thing. Gareth. He took her mind. He broke her will. He cut the human out of her like a surgeon. So cunning. Who would have thought them capable?” He drained the glass and poured another without benefit of tonic.
Sanah understood Sir Godfrey’s comment, but she knew the truth. When she saw Gareth save Adele’s life, she had witnessed something she could never have imagined. A vampire that was not a monster. Much of the blame for the break with Adele had to lie with Mamoru himself, but there was no point in saying that. Sir Godfrey would not hear it; there was no reason to alienate him now.
He fell grunting into an overstuffed armchair, gin spilling on his jacket. He stared angrily at the glass, then shouted into the air, “Laudanum! Majid, laudanum, do you hear!” When his manservant didn’t appear in seconds, he struggled back to his feet.