by N. C. Reed
“Surely there is another doctor that can do something like this!” Govan exclaimed.
“Of course there is,” Spurgeon nodded. “Several of them in fact. The problem is that none that I know of are here, now. Doctor Freeman once could have, but his eyesight has faded to the point that he no longer operates. He would not be able to perform so delicate a procedure and would never attempt it. The nearest physician I know of at this very moment would either be at the royal hospital at Bingham, or at the front. The two physicians I personally know that would normally be here in Nasil and could perform this surgery are in the field with the army, assisting with the wounded. They could not be here in less than five days, allowing for time for the messenger to get there and for them to return.”
“I can't believe he has five days,” Govan shook his head.
“I'd say two at most, and that is most generous,” Spurgeon agreed. “I am truly sorry,” he said heavily. “It would be the greatest service I could perform for the Crown to be able to save his life and I would do anything, give anything that I now or will ever possess to have the skill to perform the surgery, even just this once if never again. But I simply do not.” The man looked as if he were going to cry.
“What can you do?” Govan asked.
“I can slow the bleeding, which I have, it's almost stopped in fact, and I can keep him comfortable. Anything more than that is beyond what I am capable of.”
“Then do that,” Govan ordered. “Try and keep him alive, and I will see if I can find someone who can help him.”
“I pray you can,” Spurgeon remarked earnestly. Govan left the room, on his way to roust out the off duty members of Tammon McLeod's regiment. They were angry men, to say the least. Angry and looking for someone to hold responsible for the death of their liege lord.
They could channel that need into searching for a physician who could do the miraculous.
*****
Sebastian Grey looked at the quartet of constables with something akin to hatred, glaring at them in silence because he did not trust himself to speak. He breathed deeply, trying to calm himself. There was no point in being angry because what was done was done. And, in all fairness, had these four realized what was happening and tried to prevent it, they would merely have been added to the list of dead.
“They were wearing the uniforms of the Royal Family, sir,” the senior constable spoke in their defense. “We had no reason to suspect they were not. Technically, if they were a part of Prince Therron's regiment, they were servants of the Royal Family, I suppose.”
“Your orders were to prevent Princess McLeod from leaving her apartments without the express authorization of the Crown Prince or the King,” Grey ground out between clenched teeth.
“Sir, the Colonel reported to us that it was Prince Memmnon himself who had dispatched them to escort her to his offices,” the man nodded. “The Princess was reluctant to even leave her room, but the Colonel told her through the door that she was going, as the Prince had ordered it. Had he not invoked the name of the Prince we would have refused them entry.”
And been killed in the process, Grey knew. Again he was reminded that there was nothing that these four could have done besides die. Reports were that the group that had freed Sherron McLeod was at least twenty strong, all seasoned soldiers and among the best trained the army had to offer. Four Constables would have stood no chance at all against even an equal number, let alone so many.
“Get out,” he ordered them suddenly. “Speak of this to no one until I tell you, personally, to do otherwise. There is an investigation ongoing. You are excused duty until that is concluded. Report to the barracks and remain there until I release you. Go.”
The four left at once, glad to be away from their angry superior. Grey watched them go and then turned to the report from the Tammon McLeod's footman. Had the man not gone to make a final check on the king before retiring, then Prince Memmnon would likely have bled out before anyone found him. Even now the news was not good concerning the Prince. Which reminded him; someone needed to inform Prince Parno of what had happened. He was suddenly the only member of the Royal Family that was capable of taking the reins of the kingdom at the present. Despite how badly he might be needed at the front, the need for him here, in Nasil, was far greater for the moment.
He quickly wrote out a message to the young prince and then headed to the stables to find a courier and a fast horse. The sun was already high above the horizon. The rider should make good time.
*****
The search for a trained physician spread through most of the Royal City before noon. The members of Tammon McLeod's personal regiment were not given to politeness that morning in their fury over what had happened. Broken into squads led by young officers, the troopers fanned across the city in search of someone who could save Prince Memmnon, or that knew of someone who could. The city was not quite locked down, as the men to do so simply were not available. Prince Memmnon's Own were supplementing the Palace Guard in the event of another incursion, so it was left to the City Guard, mostly militia that were a bit too old for front line duty, the city constabulary, and Tammon's Guards.
Failure to secure the services of a physician that could perform the lifesaving surgery led to increased tempers as the sun moved ever higher in the sky. Mindful of how time sensitive things were, the soldiers were becoming more angry with each passing hour.
One squad was on the eastern outskirts of the Royal City around noon, combing the older sections for even a retired doctor capable of helping the prince. Their lieutenant saw an ambulance approaching with a heavy escort and moved his men into position to stop it. The Captain leading the escort drew up, halting his small column a short way from the smaller party.
“State your business,” the lieutenant demanded in what he fondly imagined was an intimidating voice. Several of the Black Sheep actually snorted at that, but were silenced by a glare from their Captain.
“We're escorting our charge into the city,” the Captain replied amiably enough.
“And who might your charge be?” the lieutenant asked.
“I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to say,” the Captain responded more slowly, wary now. None of this was normal. “What has happened?”
“I want to know who is in that ambulance, right now!” the lieutenant barked. Behind the Captain of the escort several of the Black Sheep silently drew swords, allowing them to hang along their saddles.
“Lieutenant, I've answered all your questions I intend to,” the Captain stated slowly and clearly. “We are members of Prince Parno McLeod's personal regiment, escorting a party at his order. Who that party is being no concern whatsoever of a snot-nose lieutenant who likely shaves no more than three times a week.” The Captain spurred his horse forward and the front rank of his men followed.
“Now whatever you and your men are engaged in, feel free to continue in it while we go on our way.”
“You aren't passing here until we've inspected that ambulance!” The lieutenant was angry, he was scared, and he was looking for a fight. Unfortunately, he had chosen the worst possible group to pick one with. The remainder of the escort now drew their swords almost in unison. Without a single spoken order, half moved to support the Captain while the other half collapsed on the ambulance, ringing it with steel.
“You won't be inspecting this ambulance, lieutenant,” the Captain's voice turned icy. “Any attempt to get inside will result in your painful and immediate death, I assure you.”
From inside, Stephanie McLeod looked out, wondering why they were stopped and why the escort suddenly had their swords drawn.
“What's going on?” she demanded.
“Not sure, milady,” the man nearest her window replied softly. “Kindly stay out of sight, milady, and keep your voice low until we can sort this out. I'm not caring for this at all.”
“There's. . .the road is blocked by soldiers,” Winnie reported, having leaned out the window on the other side. “I think they're actu
ally threatening the escort,” she added, amused. “That won't go well.”
“I can't see the humor in that, Winifred,” Stephanie frowned. “Perhaps you should get back inside.”
“It's not funny, I agree,” Winnie lithely moved back into the carriage. “But the very idea of ten men challenging this bunch?” she shook her head. “That is just sad. This outfit will essentially walk right over them like they aren't there.”
“How are they dressed?” Stephanie asked, trying to see out but refraining from actually hanging from the window as her young friend had done.
“Similar to the Prince's Own, now that you mention it,” Winnie looked thoughtful. “I wonder if other personal regiments dress that way.”
“Yes, they do,” Stephanie nodded. “The colors are the same, as are them emblems. The designs are unique to the regiment, but the black and green of the McLeod dynasty is always the same.”
“Then I'd say we're facing a squad of either the King's Own or Prince Memmnon's,” Winnie declared. “And they're still about to get their backsides handed to them,” she added.
“I need to speak to the Captain,” Stephanie ordered the man near her window.
“Not a good time, milady,” the man almost whispered. “I don't know what burr is under their saddle, but they're demanding to inspect the carriage. That is not going to happen, milady, no matter what.”
“If they're the King's Own then it's stupid for them to fight against us!” Stephanie exclaimed. “Find out what the problem is!”
“We're trying, milady,” the soldier assured her.
Up front, the lieutenant had finally realized that he had well and truly poked the bear, but didn't know how to unpoke it now that he had. He did recognize that bluster wasn't going to work.
“We're in search of a skilled physician,” he admitted finally.
“What?” the Captain could not have been more surprised if the younger man had told him they were searching for a unicorn. “Why?”
“There was an attack on the King last night, and several others,” the younger man replied after a brief hesitation. “The Crown Prince is severely injured and the Royal Physician is unable to care for him at present. Because of the war, most other trained physicians are away. We desperately need someone who can perform surgery or we. . .we could lose the Prince.”
“Why in the hell didn't you say that to start with you imbecile!” the Captain shouted, angrier now than before. “Stand aside or lead us to the palace at once. At once do you hear! We're escorting one of the best doctors in the entire kingdom at Marshal McLeod's orders!”
“What?” it was the lieutenant's turn to be stunned.
“Lead, follow, or get out of the way!” the Captain yelled, then turned around in his saddle.
“Double time, lads! To the palace at once!” As the column started the small unit blocking the road scrambled to get out of the way. The Captain fell back to the carriage where he could speak to his charge.
“Milady, did you hear?” he asked.
“No, what's happening?” Stephanie demanded, resisting the urge to climb out her window as Winnie had once again.
“There was an attack on the palace last night,” the Captain said as the column picked up speed. “The King was attacked, as was Prince Memmnon, and the prince is sorely injured. They need someone who can perform surgery on him or we may lose him.”
“Get me there at once,” Stephanie ordered, no longer the Lady, but the Doctor, now. “If you can get me more information before we arrive, bring it to me.” She was already reaching for her bag.
“Guess it's a good thing you always carry that,” Winnie remarked. “What can I do to help, Lady Freeman?”
“There's nothing either of us can do until we get there and find out what's happening,” Stephanie admitted as she opened her bag and began setting tools aside. “Keep a sharp lookout though,” she added. “If the palace was attacked then there may still be Nor in the city. We're a nice target according to the Captain.”
She was conscious of Winnie moving about in the carriage, but was so preoccupied with preparing her instruments that she ignored it. When she finally did look up, Winnie had donned her quiver and was uncasing her bow, having already strapped a short sword to her side. Seeing Stephanie's wide eyed look, the younger woman shrugged.
“You care for the Prince and I'll watch your back,” she said simply. Stephanie looked at her a moment longer then nodded.
“Very well.”
*****
Sebastian Grey always kept his cards close to his vest, as the saying went. Very few people yet knew that Prince Memmnon had told the man who found him that it had been his own sister that had killed the king. He was keeping it that way for the present. There was too much that was currently not public knowledge to allow that to get out until Prince Parno could arrive and be ready to take over.
Grey acknowledged that it was a lot to throw on the young man who had only just assumed command of the army, but . . . there was no one else. Prince Memmnon, assuming he lived, would not be up and about for days, perhaps weeks. The kingdom simply could not languish without a head for that length of time. Worse, the situation with the twins had to be dealt with and sooner rather than later. Again, only the Prince could do that. Orders that could only come from the sovereign or regent would have to be issued.
He looked at the courier, one of the King's Own personal couriers. Hard riding professionals, the King's Couriers were the best riders and among the most trusted men in service to the king. He handed the small satchel to the man who took it and tucked it inside his jacket.
“This has to get to Marshal McLeod without delay,” Grey stressed. “Kill horses if you have to, man, but get this in his hands as soon as humanly possible. I can't stress enough how important it is.”
“Yes sir,” the man nodded and leaped into the saddle. With scarcely a pause he was away and gone, galloping north as fast as his charger would carry him. Grey watched him go, turning his gaze away before the man was out of sight, just in case the old wives’ tale was true.
He couldn't afford any bad luck right now.
*****
The escort pulled in to the palace grounds just under too fast, startling a still jumpy Palace Guard. They, too, were smarting, since it was technically on their watch that mayhem had occurred. The Captain and four men dismounted at once, tossing reins to others as they formed a cordon around the carriage door. Stephanie stepped out after passing her bag out to one of the men, then securing again in her own hand as Winnie simply jumped to the ground behind her. Several eyes were raised at the sight of the young mountain girl with her bow and sword, but none of the Sheep were among them. They knew how deadly Winifred Huble was.
The Captain led the group inside, passing the guard without offering a comment other than 'move aside'. The man was wearing Dynasty colors and acted like he should be there, so they moved aside, not realizing that this was exactly what had happened the previous evening.
Once inside Stephanie grabbed the first person she saw and demanded to be taken at once to the Prince. The startled maid servant bowed and practically ran to the Prince's apartments, the doctor's group following. There was a strong guard outside the door and they formed a barrier against the group.
“This is Lady Corsin-Freeman,” the Captain spoke calmly. “She is the personal physician of Marshal McLeod as well as the teaching physician at the Cove Canton military hospital. We're here because we were told the Prince is in dire need of her services.”
“Praise be on High,” one of the men murmured as the others stepped aside while he opened the door. “Mister Spurgeon is in with the Prince right now, milady,” he offered as Stephanie passed him.
“Thank you,” she said absently.
“We'll be here if you need us, milady,” the Captain called. Stephanie turned to see the tired soldiers still in the hallway. Beside her stood Winnie.
“That won't be necessary, Captain,” she said gently. “You and you
r men should rest. We don't know what will happen in the next hours or days.”
“Yes, milady,” he bowed slightly. She disappeared into Memmnon's apartments and the Captain turned to look at his men.
“We'll stand two hour watches, starting now, with two men on this door at all times.” Two of the men stepped forward at once, nodding. “She goes nowhere alone,” he told them flatly.
“We're standing a permanent watch here, Captain,” the sergeant of the guard detail offered. “She'll be safe here.”
“Yes, she will,” the Captain nodded, ignoring the man otherwise. “You'll be relieved in two hours,” he told his men, then departed with the rest of his men in tow.
The two hard eyed members of Parno's Company took places along the wall opposite the door and settled in to wait.
*****
“Freeman?” Spurgeon looked amazed. “My God, are you Doctor Freeman's daughter?”
“I am,” Stephanie nodded, frowning at the irrelevancy. “Status on the Prince?”
“Single stab wound that appears to have perforated the left kidney,” Spurgeon detailed professionally. “I've managed to stop the bleeding for the most part, and I've kept him sedated against the pain since his squirming was aggravating the wound. I've found no other signs of injury on his person. He is bleeding internally, presumably from the wound or the kidney itself. He's presenting blood that is red and not frothy from the mouth, coughing it up in non-congealed form.”
