“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.”
“You’re a legend. It would thrill them.”
“It is more important for them to hear praise from you.”
“Perhaps, but you are welcome to say something if it comes to you,” she urged.
He remained silent throughout, but paused at every bed as she did, and nodded to each soldier. As they continued on through the next ward, Adele noticed that none of the patients seemed severely or mortally wounded. Finally, she approached the doctor escorting them.
“These are the worst wounded here?”
“Oh. No, Your Majesty. We didn’t think that ward appropriate for your eyes. These are the men who would be aware of your presence and benefit most from it.”
Annoyed, Adele kept her tone even and quiet. “I intend to see as many as I can.”
The doctor gulped. “My sincerest apologies, Majesty. This way.”
Hours later, Adele and Greyfriar emerged from the hospital. Her heart had nearly shattered in the critical wards. There were moments she would have broken down from the despair of it all if Greyfriar had not been standing with her, giving her his strength. The endless rows of wounded were astounding. Men so ruined and savaged they were barely alive. The bloodstained blankets. The missing limbs and mangled faces. Shallow rattling breaths. The foulness of the air nearly sickened her when she entered, but by the end, she hardly noticed it. And that disturbed her even more.
She embraced the freezing dusk and drew in deep breaths in futile hopes of driving the septic stink from her nose. Instead of being invigorated by the sharp cold air, she felt weary. The day had drained her, and she slumped as her feet scuffed the snow.
Greyfriar was quick to slip an arm around her to steady her. “You are exhausted.”
She shrugged, rolling her shoulders in a vain attempt to ease the ache. “I’m fine.”
“You shouldn’t have gone. You’re not recovered.” Greyfriar’s tone held concern.
“Of course, I’m recovered,” Adele lied, trying to put some force in her voice, but leaning against him anyway. In truth, however, she felt drained. It was as if she had expelled not only the rift’s energies, but her own as well. Her bones were sore, and any activity left her winded. “Let’s walk toward St. Laurent. I want to see if I can find someone.”
“Who?”
“A little girl I met on the way into the city. I promised that she’d be safe. I’d like to see if I kept that promise.”
Scowling but resigned against her determination, Greyfriar guided her. “Of course. Let’s go.”
They passed a wagon rocking its way down a narrow lane with a tarp pulled over its load, but the stench of charred flesh was unmistakable. Vampire casualties. Her gaze went immediately to Greyfriar. As always, his true expression remained hidden to her.
Adele noted her constant companions, Captain Shirazi and a squad of her Harmattan, followed discreetly a dozen paces behind, as discreetly as ten armed men could. She signaled for them to move farther back, and lowered her head to whisper, “Does it bother you?”
“Does what bother me? That you’re not recovered? Yes, I’m concerned.”
“No.” Her head bobbed toward the departing ox cart.
Greyfriar glanced at it and then back again, his chest expanding with a deep breath. His response to the question was slow, his voice nearly too quiet to hear. “Would you think me callous if I said no?”
Adele was about to respond, but Greyfriar continued quickly.
“I’ve said before. I have chosen my side. I am with you. I’m sad to see my people come to this, and if I could make them see reason, I would. Would you prefer to see us win?”
“No. But they are your people.” Adele continued to study the ragged groups around them, searching out the children with intense scrutiny. The locals stared back. Some waved and smiled, while others were confused, more suspicious of their new masters.
The snowcapped stones of St. Laurent rose up before them. Adele signaled for her guard to remain where they were. Captain Shirazi glared angrily, but she gave him an assured nod toward Greyfriar.
Adele weighed a bit more heavily on her companion’s arm, although he seemed not to notice, as they walked slowly into the courtyard. She looked around, remembering the vampire she had killed here and the little girl. Adele hadn’t logically expected to find the girl here, but it was still disappointing to see the empty courtyard.
Greyfriar pulled his cloak tighter around her shoulders as the frigid wind swirled. “Look at this city.” He swept an arm, gesturing at the wrecked courtyard around them and the decrepit buildings visible around it. Some of the damage had been caused by Equatorian firepower, but all structures were in a state of decay, far from their original glory. “We’ve held this city for well over a hundred years and it’s a ruin. In our hands, it would eventually fall to dust, and we wouldn’t lift a finger to stop it.”
Adele chewed on her inner cheek. “Maybe your kind doesn’t know how to fix it.”
“You always want us to be something other than what we are.”
“Because I’ve seen you,” she pointed out. “Vampires aren’t just faceless monsters to me.”
“I am alone.”
“Are you sure? Maybe there are others and you just haven’t met them. Maybe you’ll find them.”
“It had better be soon before you remove them all from the Earth.”
“That’s not what you want,” she replied quietly, frightened of his desperate tone.
He reached out and swept snow off a stone window ledge, watching the powder vanish into sparkles in the sinking sunlight. “Adele, we are like the mayfly. We rise in great numbers, but rest assured, we will fall and go back to the Earth. You can be content that the time of the vampire will pass.”
“You mean you’ll all just die?” Her steps faltered.
Greyfriar gripped her hand tightly, holding her, their fingers entwining. “No, but regardless of what happens in this war, we will someday destroy ourselves because we chose this path of gluttony and depravity. Our end may not be in your lifetime or that of your children, but it will happen, and we will trouble you no longer.”
“I fear your end may well be in my lifetime.” Adele squeezed his gloved hand. “Look at your people. I am the weapon that caused this.” She couldn’t continue. Visions of vampire children in Grenoble and the Rwenzori Mountains tore through her mind, vampire children she had killed. They were the same creatures as Flay and Cesare, but they were just children; they were blameless. In some ways they were like the little girl she had promised to keep safe here in this church courtyard. “Do I even have the right to do this? How can I be responsible for genocide? How can you even look at me?”
“Never doubt my love for you, Adele. How could I not love you? Your mind and your heart never stop working; you never stop trying to find the right path. There is always hope in you. That’s why you came here to find that girl, even knowing you would likely never see her again.” Greyfriar shifted as he faced her, and his glasses caught the sun, glaring and blinding
her. “You have to simply have faith that you saved her.”
Adele swallowed hard, her eyes burning with unshed tears. She nodded as he drew her into his arms and his absolution washed over her, easing the weight on her chest. His cape fell over her shoulders like a shield against the world.
She drew several deep breaths. Then she sighed heavily, as she knew the moment had passed and duty once more pressed on her. “They expect me to go to St. Etienne.”
“No, Adele.” Greyfriar pushed her back and clutched her shoulders in strong hands. “You can’t do it. You can’t save the world by yourself.”
“If I have this power, how do I dare send young men to die?” Adele’s face was stricken, but a terrible weariness lurked behind her eyes. Even her passion for her soldiers, her people, was taxing her. She lowered herself onto a snowy ledge with a stuttering exhale and allowed herself the luxury of resting her head in her hands.
“You are completely spent. Don’t forget, I can hear your heartbeat. I can sense you in so many ways. And I can tell you that you are much weaker than when you arrived. You might not survive another such event.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do. I may not know when, but I know it.” Greyfriar knelt before her. “Listen to me, Adele. Let’s say you got to St. Etienne to relieve your forces there, and grow weaker. Then you strike Lyon, and grow weaker still. Who can say how long you will last? Perhaps you then strike Geneva. And perhaps your faltering heart gives out, and you die. Forgetting the unendurable loss to your homeland and your family, and to me, your army will have no experience fighting vampires. They will know nothing but how to follow you like puppies. Those cities you have cleansed will be refilled by my kind, who will cut your people to pieces. Look at Grenoble. Without you, General Anhalt’s men would likely be dead now.”
“That’s my point.” Adele exclaimed. “As long as I’m here, I can protect them. I don’t see why it can’t work. You yourself said the clans wouldn’t support each other. We should be able to move north while I strike one clan at a time. I can recuperate between attacks.”
The swordsman replied, “Vampires aren’t stupid. They learn and adapt. These clans you’re encountering now don’t know you, or understand what you’re doing. But soon, they will. Word will spread. They will smell you and your power, and they’ll flee before you can strike. They’ll drift into the forests and mountains. And then they’ll return when you’ve exhausted or killed yourself. All for nothing. For nothing.”
Adele sighed in frustration. “Fine. What’s our next step, then?”
“You return to Alexandria, and recuperate,” Greyfriar said. “There is something I must do to the north. King Vittorio said that Cesare had already reached out to him. I knew my brother was allied with Munich and Budapest, but his politics are more dangerous than I suspected. I fear the clan map is changing, and my advice has been flawed and outdated. Cesare is adapting faster than I. Lyon and St. Etienne are part of his alliance already. I had no idea, and my ignorance is dangerous for you and your army, since you are depending on my knowledge. I must learn Cesare’s strategy.”
“How do you intend to accomplish that?” Adele raised bemused eyebrows. “Ask Cesare?”
“No. That would be silly.” He laid rough fingers against her cold, ruddy cheek. “I believe I’ll ask Flay.
“What! Are you insane?” The empress bolted to her feet. She lowered her voice, but not her tone. “Flay knows you’re Greyfriar. She’s sworn to destroy you.”
Greyfriar caught Adele as she bobbled on unsteady legs. “True, that is a complication. However, there is one thing Flay desires even more than revenge.”
“And what is that?” Adele asked with a trembling voice.
“Me.”
GRENOBLE WAS LOST.
Flay considered this news, bestowing fearsome glares at the vampires who cowered before her. Some were still sporting burns from the Equatorian attack. General Anhalt's army was now free to move north. In response, Flay would have to divert much of her force from St. Etienne in order to protect Lyon. Damn Hallow, Flay thought. If she had provided more packs, this disaster would have been avoided.
“Tell me again,” Flay demanded. “What happened at Grenoble?”
“Fire,” one replied. “It seemed to come from the earth. From everywhere. So many of us died. It was shortly after the empress came.”
Flay felt a knife edge on her spine. “The empress! The Equatorian empress, Adele? She was there? You saw her?”
“We didn't, but we knew she was there in the human camp. She was spied on board a ship from the south. She must have brought some new weapon.” One of the refugees clasped his hands. “We beg to join with you. We will serve your pack until our deaths.”
Flay grabbed one of the Grenoblois survivors. “Why should I help you now? You had your chance to join us, but your king was too proud. Where is he now?”
“Dead. Burned in the apocalypse at Grenoble.”
Flay threw the vampire to the ground. “How could he let that girl into the battle? His idiocy has undone me.”
“She's just one girl,” came the voice from the floor.
“Shut up!” Flay pulled the vampire from the ground and lifted him into the air.
“She's just a human,” the frightened Grenoblois stammered. “What happened has never been seen before. It's a new weapon.”
“It was no weapon! It was the empress! It was that princess.” Flay hurled the vampire against the wall. Then she seized another and cast him aside too. She could smell the faint remnant of geomancy on these miserable refugees. The scent conjured the horrible memories of nearly dying over Scotland at the hands of Adele.
“We can help you move against the humans in Grenoble. We know the cave systems. They haven't had time to dig in.”
“Get out.” Flay dropped into a chair, no longer interested in the opinions of rabble. “If I have to see any of you a second longer, you won't survive.”
The war chief heard scraping and footsteps as the three scurried out. She was lost in thought. Fire from the earth. Most of the vaunted Grenoble clan killed outright. Those who escaped were injured with burns that healed slowly. Perhaps they were right and it was a new Equatorian weapon.
No. Flay shook her head. The princess was the weapon. Flay said aloud, “Adele. What is she?”
“She's your death, Flay.”
Prince Gareth stood in the doorway. Clearly Flay had been so preoccupied she hadn't noticed his scent, but she sprang to her feet with claws extended. Gareth didn't move. He was dressed in simple black trousers and white shirt. His claws were retracted. He adopted an attitude typical of a clan nobleman, as if paying a social visit, as if their past didn't exist, as if she didn't realize he was the greatest traitor their kind had ever known. It was his only option; he could only come to her out of natural-born superiority. Anything less and she would kill him where he stood. She stared speechless at him with her teeth bared and chest heaving.
Gareth waited for her to react further, and realized she wasn't going to. “I assumed your question was referring to Empress Adele.”
Flay flinched when he said the girl's name. “What are you doing here? I told you back in Alexandria that I would call for you when I wanted you.”
“The war has changed, Flay. Grenoble is in Equatorian hands. Along with its sizeable herds.”
“So I hear. Congratulations. Another triumph for the Greyfriar. Your father would have been proud.”
Gareth's face turned stern. “I know you could have gone to Cesare with the knowledge of my other identity, and whether he believed you or not, you could have used it as an excuse to strike Edinburgh. Thank you for your discretion.”
“Don't thank me. I will go to Cesare when it suits me. I'll ruin you yet, Greyfriar.” Flay lowered her gaze and flicked her claws in and out. “Are you here to kill me? You're welcome to try.”
“I'm not here to fight.”
“You smell scared.”
Gare
th willed his nerves to calm. He hesitated as if conflicted. “I'm here…to ask for your help.”
“My help? Do you think I would help you do anything except die?”
“I'm going to kill Cesare.”
“Is that so?”
Gareth could sense the shock that went through her as she backed a few steps farther away. Smart. She wouldn't be lulled into allowing him within reach.
However, she slit her eyes with suspicion. “I assume you've heard, then?”
“Heard what?”
“About your father.” Flay studied the curiosity that flashed uncontrolled over his features as he made a quick gesture of unease. “The king is dead.”
Gareth heard her words and discounted them at first. Even so, he felt his legs weaken at the thought of his father's death, and he found himself breathing steadily through his nose, studying Flay's face for signs of a lie. She smiled slowly, smelling the wash of emotion that poured out of him.
She was telling the truth. He knew it now. Dmitri was gone, his willpower to fight for life finally spent. Gareth would never see his father again.
The prince of Scotland couldn't maintain any pretense. His shoulders dropped with an exhalation of grief and he sank into a chair. “When did he die?”
“Some days ago perhaps. I only just heard myself.” Flay's voice lilted with the joy she felt at causing him pain and uncertainty. She seemed heartened by his sudden vulnerability, like a hunter smelling blood. She couldn't stop herself from pushing deeper as she stared at Gareth's stricken face. “I can't help but recall the last time I saw His Majesty. Last year, I was in London and had the opportunity to speak with the king without Cesare around. It was quite odd. He had a moment of lucidity, as if he was his old self, as if he had some special purpose that allowed him to pull away from the fog that consumed him. It was quite bracing to have a little glimpse of the great Dmitri again. He recognized me, and looked directly into my eyes. And he asked for you.”
Kingmakers, The (Vampire Empire Book 3) Page 9
