Five Hertz of Separation

CHAPTER FIFTY ONE

There is certainly a different feeling to the Palace under the new rule. Politics is always politics but the threat of death, or worse, has been lifted. That brings a new set of challenges, ones that the Witches Council seems incapable of dealing with. They all mean well but good intentions will not feed the horse. They are too divided to truly rule this world and they fail to inspire the kind of loyalty needed among both the people and the Queen’s Guard. There is no doubt that Opulessa was worse but things could certainly be better.

The troubles have been increasing rapidly ever since they took … well, I can’t say control, that is the problem. Certainly since Opulessa was killed. However, I bring information that may change the situation.

If only Mistress Denson would keep a reliable schedule!

I have been waiting twenty decicycles past my appointed time yet there is no sign of her, or her secretary. The woman who is here assures me she will soon arrive but she has been saying that for the last fifteen decicycles.

Finally, I hear a commotion at the end of the hall leading to this office and Mistress Denson sweeps in, her secretary at her heels.

Some things never change.

“I am so sorry to keep you waiting, General Packer. The Council meeting ran longer than expected.”

They always do.

“I am at your service, Mistress. My time is yours to command.”

“I wish all my appointments were as understanding as you, General. I will see you in …” she looks at her secretary “ten decicycles?” Her secretary nods in confirmation.

“As you wish, Mistress.”

Surprisingly, I am called after only eight decicycles. A pleasant change.

Once I am seated, the secretary leaves us, though I have no illusions that we are truly alone. I am certain that someone is recording our conversation.

“What do you have to report concerning the numerous rebellions, General Packer?”

“A surprising amount of very good news, Mistress.”

“Really? There has not been much of that these past few months.”

“No indeed. The information that I have is all second hand. None of my men have witnessed any of the battles I am reporting about today.”

“I do not understand. How could your men not witness battles they participated in?”

“These fights did not involve the Queen’s Guard in any way.”

“Are the rebel groups turning on one another?” she asks, hope in her voice.

“Not exactly. There was some of that in the early months as different groups fought for territory, but that has faded away. No, these reports are from the statements of the survivors of these different battles, of which there are surprisingly large numbers.”

“Proceed.”

“Thank you, Mistress. It seems to have started in the East, near New Amsterdam. One of the minor rebel groups, less than 700 in numbers, was utterly routed by a single witch. She killed a group of men in an extraordinarily theatrical manner but it was very effective. If the reports are true, I must raise my hat to her. She then called upon, and remember, these are unconfirmed but completely consistent reports, a fire breathing dragon to bring total destruction to the property of the rebel leader, a Thalyn Burns.”

She blinks twice before responding. “Did you say a dragon?”

“A fire breathing dragon. A rather large one, though that is where some of the reports vary.”

“Since dragons do not exist at all, I can understand why the reports are not consistent, General.”

“I do not doubt these reports, Mistress Denson. I have spoken to many of these men myself. Some used to be part of the Queen’s Guard who have returned, begging to be allowed to rejoin.”

“Why would they do that?”

“Allow me to provide some additional information before I answer that question. As I said, this began in the East but quickly spread. Different groups were attacked in similar ways, though there were no further theatrical executions. Always a single witch and the dragon, which appears to be impossible to kill or even harm in any way.”

“The witch or the dragon?”

“Both, Mistress. Also consistent is, though the attacks are nearly unstoppable, there are no reports of casualties, no prisoners taken, except for that first attack in New Amsterdam, and, before each attack, the witch clearly identifies herself as Queen Alexia. She gives the men a chance to run away, to return to her service and those who do not will, and this is important, ultimately die.”

“Which explains the sudden increase in the number of your troops.”

“Exactly, Mistress. The most recent reports have Queen Alexia riding the dragon as if it were a horse, directing it through the air and destroying at will.”

“Has all this been effective?”

“Exceedingly so. The survivors of one attack scatter but they tell their stories wherever they go. The stories are now almost legendary and the mere appearance of Queen Alexia and her dragon sends the rebels running.”

“I thought you said she was not killing anyone, with those first exceptions.”

“That is correct but most of the rebels view that as their good luck and cannot see the genius in the plan. I honestly cannot say that I would stand in the face of a giant, fire breathing dragon even if there was a good chance I might survive. It would take someone stronger than I to do that.”

“You said ‘Queen Alexia.’ Do you believe it to be her?”

“Of that I have no doubt. The description of the witch is her to the top of her head. The wish to not kill fits exactly, though she has turned that to her advantage, so far. In addition, is there another witch out there who could create a huge magical beast and maintain it for many decicycles?”

“Alexia was not strong enough to do that when she left this world. Somehow, she has become even stronger in her absence.”

“I assumed this information would be a surprise but you have accepted my statements rather easily. Is there something I should know, Mistress Denson?”

She takes a sip from a cup of warm tea flavored with honey that is always on her desk during meetings. Swallowing slowly, she looks at me over the lip of the cup. The effect is uncomfortable, as if I am being studied by an old, maiden aunt. She returns the cup to a holder above a small lit candle.

“Your information is not a complete surprise. The news about the various rebel groups is a happy surprise. As for Alexia, I had sent for her well over a month ago.”

“Sent for her?”

“I ordered Miran Pegues to return to the other world, find Alex Thompson and convince him to return to this world. The concept of a Witches Council has failed. History may argue exactly why that has happened but there is no argument that the statement is not true.”

It is a relief to hear her say that but I do not want to react too strongly. It was her pet project and she poured a great deal of effort in trying to make it work.

“It was a noble experiment, Mistress.”

“One which I believe you predicted would fail.”

“I am not a visionary, Mistress Denson. It is not my place to make policy but to implement it. I kept my misgivings to myself and always followed orders.”

“And earned my eternal respect for doing so. Thank you for your hard work in these difficult times, General Packer. I believe that if the Council broke apart without another option in place, the fighting would rapidly spread and become an all out civil war, fracturing the Queen’s Guard further in the process.”

“An astute observation, Mistress.”

“Thank you. Alexia was the obvious choice from the standpoint of a dominant witch. We all know her and what she is capable of. None of us are her equal, not even if we band together.”

“Which you clearly cannot do.”

The look on her face tells me I have struck a sore spot. “Yes, General. We witches cannot seem to agree on anything.”

“If I may ask, did you seek the agreement of your sister witches on the return of Alexia?”

“I did not.”

“Was that because they would not agree with your plan?”

“It was because there would not be unanimous agreement.”

“Mistress Beckwith.”

“At the least, General.”

I am not one to put great stock in rumors but a man in my position cannot afford to ignore them completely. Some have said that Mistress Beckwith, in league with others, would not object to the collapse of the Witches Council. It would give her the opening to create a more active and forceful government. I myself have received some subtle inquiries from her representatives which were cut short when I told them that I was loyal to the current government and would never seek to change it but that if change happened on its own, I would be loyal to the new government.

“Do your sister witches know of your plan now?”

“They know Alexia has returned.”

“How do they know this to be true?”

“Because we can feel her. A witch as powerful as Alexia does not move about unnoticed by other witches. The long suppression by Opulessa made many of us sensitive to the presence of large amounts of magic. Three days ago, the well ran over. It practically gushed from the well house.”

“That strong?”

“It was as if she was standing in the room with us but she was not. Alexia is finally in the city. I had asked Pegues to bring her back to me but, clearly, that did not happen. From your reports, Alexia has been quite busy completing her own plan for our world.”

“Do you have any idea what that is?”

“None.”

“Does that frighten you?”

“How could it not?”

“Mistress Beckwith?”

A tight smile creeps across her face. “Is disappointed.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

It’s been a busy few weeks for Johnathyn and me. I’d fly us to an area, we’d scout out the local militia loyal to this Queen or that Queen, plan my attack, scare the shit out of them and move on.

We’ve moved all around Glory but kept away from the city itself. I wanted to give time for word of my return to spread naturally. It helps with putting the rebels on the run. Johnathyn has been a bit of a pain in the ass about what I can and can’t destroy. When you’re packing a kick-ass fire breathing dragon, you just gotta burn something! He’s all worried about local economies, the cost of repairs and so on but I have to do something to prove to the non-believers that I mean business. If I’m not going to roast a few rebels on the spit, we both strongly agree with that, then I’m limited to property damage. I know Johnathyn is thinking back to the shock of finding his own home trashed but I gotta do something. Property damage is the lesser of evils, though as my rep spreads, it takes less of that each time.

Occasionally, I recognize familiar faces in the fleeing crowds as Lilly and I cruise overhead. I need that to happen to spread the word but still, it’s disappointing. It means that I’m not getting through to some people. Sooner or later, I’m going to have to escalate and I don’t want to think about what that means. I mean, there’s got to be people on this world who would be just as determined to fight against me as I would be if I were in their shoes. What would it take to make me surrender to me? A hell of a lot, maybe a lot more than I’m ready to do. All Johnathyn and I have really done so far is rattle a whole lot of cages. They aren’t causing trouble for the common people because they’re too busy running, which is better than nothing but, as history has proven, you can’t win a war strictly from the air. Ya’ gotta put boots on the ground.

After that last group near the South coast, it was clear that we had done about all we could by ourselves, which is why we returned to Glory. Riding in on a couple of horses we liberated from a rebel group, it is interesting to see how the city has changed since I left.

There’s still security but it’s mostly outside of the city limits, defending against invading armies not individuals. There are still troops around the Palace but not as many as before. In fact, the total number of Queen’s Guard that we see as we move into and through town seems to be fewer than before. Way fewer. That could mean a couple of things. They could be out fighting rebel groups but we never ran into anything like that when we were out and about. If that was the case, you think we would have seen it. A second explanation is there’s been a lot of casualties. I think Packer is too smart to waste his men like that, assuming Packer is still in charge of the Queen’s Guard. A third answer would be desertions.

Guess I’ll find out eventually. Right now, I need to check on my popularity with the people.

Johnathyn and I rein the horses in front of the building that Beckwith damaged during the attack on Opulessa. I’m glad to see that they have fixed it.

“How do we know if they still live here, Alexia?”

“We don’t, but it’s as good a place to start as any.”

“Should we not see Dierdra first before all others? She asked for you to return so she should be pleased to see you.”

“You’re right but she may not know what’s really going on. Leaders often live in a bubble of what we call ‘Yes men’, subordinates who do not like delivering bad news so they only deliver good news, even if they have to make it up. They always agree with whatever idea or plan their boss supports, right or wrong. You get surrounded by ‘Yes men’ and pretty soon, you’re completely out of touch with reality. I need the unvarnished truth, Johnathyn. Good or bad.”

“And you think the Cantell woman can give you that?”

“I hurt her and her family. I fixed it but that’s not a good way to start a relationship. I then left and we both know what happened after that. She’s got reasons to both like and hate me, stronger personal reasons than most. She seemed smart and tuned into the pulse of the populace. I’m sure she’d be a good sounding board if she’s willing to talk to me. If we can find her.”

“If this remains her home, she should be in the courtyard, as it is past the middle of the day. Do you wish for me to search for her?”

“No, I better do it. She’s seen you and you’re hard to forget.”

He smiles slyly. “As are you, my Wife.”

I had gotten past the change while we were out rousting rebel groups. My head caught up with my body. It was like a second honeymoon for us: traveling around the country, staying at little out of the way inns, eating the local cuisine, seeing the sights and screwing like rabbits at night.

We had left Leeanna with the Collens at New Amsterdam. Kinda took the pressure off for both of us.

Picking up where we had left off, it was simply glorious! A lot of pressure had built up in Johnathyn and he gave me every bit of it.

“While we both may be unforgettable, my Husband, only I can do this.”

I dismount, stroll a few feet away to an alcove, step in so that no one can see me and quickly transform, exiting as a dead ringer for my young witch friend Penelope.

“I had forgotten you could do that, Alexia. It gives me an idea. Do you suppose you could become a …”

“Think twice before saying anything else, my Husband.”

“Perhaps later, when you are in a more receptive mood.”

“Hold that thought, Johnathyn. We’ve got work to do. You hang tight here and I’ll see what I can find out.”

He also dismounts, grabs the reins of both horses and steps away from the street into the shadows of several small trees. I enter the open courtyard through a large stone arch. It takes me several milicycles to spot Codii Cantell. I thought I’d pick her out of the crowd of children almost immediately but she has grown so much in the three quarters of a year since I left. Has it been that long? It takes even longer to locate Emery, the baby boy. He’s closer to a toddler. Do kids grow up faster on this world or is it just me? I’d never have recognized him if his mother hadn’t picked him up and cleaned his hands. I amble over to the bench on which Marta is sitting, holding Emery on her lap, taking a round-about path through the playing children.

They race about me, chasing each other, screaming, shouting, giggling and laughing. Pure joy unrestrained. I can’t remember Terry and me ever playing like that. Maybe we were younger, that age where you can’t recall what happened, like your second or third or even fourth birthdays. To live in a household with that kind of natural, unfettered, youthful happiness must be wonderful. Though there are also poopie diapers, the terrible twos and picky eaters who live on spinach for a week and then won’t touch it for a year.

Children are a mixed bag, at best.

My brain says that but my hormones are making my arms ache to hold one of those little racing imps. I look up to see Marta intently staring at me. I mosey her direction, smiling at her.

“That is a beautiful boy you have!” I exclaim. “Does he take after his father?”

She smiles back. “Very much so. Have we met before? You seem so familiar?”

“May I sit?” Marta offers me a spot next to her. I settle down, smoothing my dress underneath me. “I have just recently arrived in Glory, so it is unlikely we have met before. I am Penelope Lightner.”

“I am Marta Cantell and this young pup is my son, Emery. That dirty scamp over there is my daughter, Codii.”

“A lovely girl she is.”

“Where do you hail from?”

“East, near New Amsterdam. A small town. It is nothing to compare to Glory.”

“But many have heard of it! They say that Queen Alexia has returned and was in New Amsterdam not long ago. Is that true?”

“It is true. I saw her myself.”

“Gods preserve us! I have heard so many rumors that one has no idea what to believe or if to believe any of them at all. And now you say that you saw her with your own eyes.”

“She said she was Queen Alexia. I have never seen her before so I could not say for certain.”

“You would know her because there are no others like her.”

“In what way?”

“It is hard to say. You can feel her presence. Did you not when you saw her?”

Crap. “Certainly! I had never met a Queen before so I didn’t know what to expect. Quite a presence.”

Marta gives me the look familiar to a billion mothers. She knows a fib when she hears it. Don’t give her time to think about it.

“Are you happy she has returned?”

She continues to look at me, pulling her son closer to her. “Queen Alexia shall set things right.”

“What needs to be set right?”

“What does not?”

Not a big help. I can’t interrogate her, her suspicion’s already on alert. I could go back to more innocuous subjects but don’t really have the time to regain her confidence. A group of children go running by us. Codii is among them but as she nears me, she pulls up, suddenly stopping. The two children behind her run into her, pushing her to the ground as they spin off and away. She doesn’t cry but looks up at me from the dust at my feet.

“Codii!” Marta shouts, trying to reach for her while still holding Emery on her lap.

“I’ll get her,” I volunteer, reaching down and gently picking her up, then setting her on her feet and carefully dusting her off, all the while rebuilding my trustworthiness with Marta.

“She is a little Darter Fish, that one is,” Marta sighs. “Everywhere, fast as possible, always running into things.”

“Enjoy it while you can. Emery will join her soon enough,” I say as I finish dusting Codii off. I catch myself licking my thumb, preparing to rub a spot of dirt off her cheek with my saliva. That would have been a bit too much. Codii curtseys to me.

“Thank you, Queen Alexia,” she says, curtseying again. “Why do you not look like yourself?”

“Uhhhhhh …” I glance towards Marta. She knows. I can see it in her eyes. No use pretending otherwise. I give her a waning smile. “Sorry. Gotta go.” I bolt off the bench, ready to sprint for the exit but Codii grabs my dress with both hands.

“Do not run away, Queen Alexia! Stay and have tea with us, PLEASE? I will make you a cake,” she pleads.

She’s latched onto my dress like only a desperate child can. I’d have to pry her fingers off or take her with me. So much for the fast escape. Marta touches my shoulder.

“Yes, Penelope. Please join us for tea. Codii makes delicious cakes.” Codii nods her head vigorously. With Codii doing her impersonation of a bear trap, I’m effectively snared.

“Certainly,” I sigh. “How could I pass on such a pleasant invitation? Lead the way, Miss Codii Cantell.”

She instantly releases my dress. For about a nanocycle I think about making a break for it but she grabs my hand with both of hers and begins pulling with all her might towards the exit of the courtyard.

“Codii!” Marta hisses. “The Queen is a guest, not a toy! How have I told you to treat a guest?”

“With kindness,” she grumps in response. She stops pulling but doesn’t let go.

Marta leads the way, Emery perched on her rolling hip. As we reach the exit, I catch Johnathyn’s eye and waive him off with a subtle shake of my head. He settles back into the shadows while we enter the building and walk down a surprisingly dark hallway. Codii’s enthusiasm is getting the better of her and she is pulling harder as we approach their home. Marta removes a large, ornate key from the pocket of her dress, inserts it into a slot in the doorframe and turns it. Codii pushes the door open with her back, towing me inside as she does. Marta follows us, closing it behind her and then letting Emery slide down her leg until his feet gently touch the floor. He toddles away unsteadily, giggling and laughing at his hyper sister. Marta squats down at her eye level.

“Codii. Since this is a special tea, perhaps you would allow me to make the tea while you clean up and then make the cake?”

“How many should I make, Mother?”

“I would think three are plenty, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes!” she exclaims, clapping her hands. “Three cakes!” She scurries towards what I think is the kitchen, jumps onto a short stool, pours some water out of a bucket with a ladle into a small, shallow pan, picks up a cloth, wets it and begins to rapidly scrub first her face and then her arms and hands. She seems to do a thorough job and then hangs the cloth on the edge of the bucket.

Hopping off the stool, she disappears around a corner as Marta enters the kitchen, opening the stove door, stirring some ashes and adding a few sticks to the fire box. They quickly catch fire and she puts a metal kettle on the fire.

“You may … relax, if you wish,” she says without turning around. “No one will see you here.” She keeps her back turned, giving me some privacy. I let the magic fall away, returning to my original form. I give the place a closer inspection while she’s not watching.

Stone walls, pretty thick judging by the recessed window wells. More light than the hallway but still a bit dark. The furniture is the same style as Johnathyn’s was but his seems to have been of a better quality. The kitchen has a few pots and pans out on the wooden counter tops but there are shelves and cabinets. It is all neat and spotless, which is a hell of a trick with two youngsters.

“You have a nice home, Marta.”

She speaks as she turns, “Thank you …” Her eyes are wide in disbelief as she sees me, like she knew it was me but didn’t actually believe it until she saw it with her own eyes. “My Queen!”

“We talked about this. How about just calling me Alexia? I get more than enough of ‘my Queen.’”

She gulps hard. “Yes, Alexia.” Then smiles in response to my smile. “Why did you hide your true identity?”

“Apparently, I didn’t. I think you suspected something was up from the start, you just couldn’t put your finger on it. Codii knew right away. How’d she do that?”

“Codii knows all the witches who cared for her. Some even visit us now and then, including Mistress Denson. She knows when they are near her, even if they ride by in a covered coach. I sometimes feel something when Mistress Denson is close by but Codii knows them all, including you. Even I felt your presence but was confused, as you did not look like you.”

“Yeah, about that. I’m sorry about the disguise but no one knows I’m back in town yet and I’d kinda like to keep it that way for a little bit longer.”

“The whole city knows you are back, my … Alexia. They know what you have done and that you have a dragon at your command! How is that possible? Dragons do not exist; they are a child’s fantasy.”

“Not just a child’s fantasy. It exists because I wish it to exist. I think your water is boiling.”

Marta rushes to the stove, removes the lid of the kettle and adds loose crumbled leaves to the pot. No tea bags, no tea ball. This is a market opportunity for someone.

“Marta, has anyone ever suggested putting the tea in something before putting it in the water?”

“What kind of thing?”

“Oh, I don’t know. A little hollow sphere with very small holes in it so that the water could easily flow in and out but the leaves stay inside.”

“What is a sphere?”

“A round, hollow ball.”

“How would the tea get inside this hollow ball?”

“You’d unscrew it …” From the look on her face I can tell she’s got no idea what I’m talking about. “Never mind. I’ll talk to Johnathyn about it. He might be able to make something.”

She places a dark colored cloth over a cup and pours the hot water through it into the cup, trapping the leaves. From the looks of the cloth, they drink a lot of tea. She repeats the process for two more cups and hands me one.

“Your husband is a clever man, Alexia.”

“He is that. While we were out on the road, we cooked on a portable stove that he made out of flattened metal sheets that folded together. It smoked a bit but was a lot easier than cooking over an open fire, though I’d have killed to have a kitchen as nice as yours.” I take a sip of the tea. Not bad at all.

Marta takes her cup and leads me back into the main room. “I preferred the kitchen of our old home. It was brighter. Please, be seated.”

“Thanks. Who’s the third cup for?”

“Codii, once she is done with the cakes.”

“How is she baking cakes outside of the …” Codii walks back into the kitchen from wherever she was at, carrying a large tray with three empty plates laid out on the tray.

“I am ready, Mother!” she shouts.

“Then come in and have a seat with us. Fetch your cup of tea while you are in the kitchen.”

“Yes, Mother.”

She reaches up to grasp the cup, carefully transfers it to her tray and then gingerly
walks into the main room, not spilling a drop. She has had some practice at this. It suddenly hits me that I am at a tea party with pretend food. Thank Zaphod Marta offered to make the tea.

Codii sets the tray down on a low table between the three of us then rushes over to a smaller chair, dragging it to where she had been standing and plops down, smiling to beat the band. Nobody does or says anything for several milicycles.

“Is there some tradition about this tea that I’m not familiar with?” I inquire.

“As the guest, you go first” Marta replies, Codii smiling and nodding her head in agreement.

“Thank you. It’s been awhile since I was invited to a tea party.”

“Did you have tea parties when you were a little girl?” Codii asks.

“No, not exactly. My twin brother often invited me to his tea parties but I usually had other things to do.”

Codii covers her mouth with her hands, giggling wildly. “Boys don’t have tea parties, only girls.”

“You had to know Terry. There’s nothing wrong with boys at a tea party, as long as they behave themselves.” I lean down and take a theatric sniff of the nearest empty plate. “Besides, who wouldn’t want some of this wonderful cake!” I pick up the imaginary muffin like cake and take a small bite. “It’s the best cake I’ve had in ages! Did you fix these all by yourself, Codii?”

She dives in, grabbing her piece from the plate and taking a large bite, chewing vigorously and then wiping her mouth with a napkin that was sitting beneath her plate.

“Yes, my Queen, all by myself.”

I take another small bite, chewing thoughtfully. “How many eggs do you use?”

“Three. And a cup of sugar, four cups of flour, a decistone of butter and a toogle of salt.”

I take a third small bite. “That sounds like a lot of butter to me but you can’t argue with the results. I must have your recipe before I leave.”

“You are leaving?” Codii cries out, sounding heartbroken.

“NO! Not right away! Eventually, later on today but not right now. Was there something you wanted of me before I left?”

Now she turns all shy on me, leaving me to coax whatever she wants me to know out of her. After several, quiet requests, she finally relents and blurts out what she wants.

“I want to see your dragon!”

“Well, unfortunately, Lilly’s not with me today. I didn’t want to scare a bunch of people and she has a tendency to do that kind of thing.”

“Your dragon is named Lilly and she’s a GIRL?” an incredulous Codii asks.

“Yes to both questions.”

“But Bobby Compers said it was a boy dragon.”

“Who is this Bobby Compers?”

“Just a boy who lives on the third floor where we used to live.”

“Do you think this Bobby Compers know more about dragons than I do?”

“No, my Queen.”

“Darn tooting. Next time you see this boy, you tell him that Queen Alexia’s dragon is a girl and her name is Lilly. And if he doesn’t believe you, tell him he can see for himself when she and I stop by to give you a ride.”

Marta looks at me like I was the old, eccentric aunt who just promised to give a teenage boy who had recently passed his driving exam a Shelby Cobra Mustang.

“Do not trouble yourself, Alexia. Please, do not!”

I don’t take the hint. “Nonsense, no trouble at all.” Codii is beside herself with excitement, hopping around on both feet. “It is the least I can do for someone who invites me to such a fine tea.”

“I must tell all my friends right away! Mother, may I be excused?”

“Not quite yet, Codii. I need to speak with the Queen alone for a few minutes to work out some details. Please go to your room.”

She bolts from the room, stops, turns on a dime and runs right back.

“Thank you, Queen Alexia! Thank you, thank you!”

I smile and pat her head. “You are very welcome. Now, run along and let me talk with your mother. She seems to have some concerns.”

Codii is gone in a flash, leaving me with a thoroughly pissed off woman.

“Go ahead,” I say.

“I do not know where to start,” she says, totally exasperated.

“Well, let me say this up front. I have flown with my own daughter, admittedly not with Lilly but Lilly is just a magical manifestation from my own mind. She could be a dragon or a unicorn or a pink pony, or a giant turtle with four enormous elephants on her back.”

“I don’t know what a unicorn is.”

“My point is, this is safe. I would not endanger my own child’s welfare for a single milicycle if there was any reasonable danger at all.”

“What about an unreasonable danger?”

“You mean like the sun exploding; a gigantic earthquake splitting the ground open and swallowing us all; an epidemic of illness sweeping across the world, decimating the population? That kind of unreasonable danger?”

She looks at me, fear still in her eyes but it is lessened. “You are telling me this is safe?”

“Safe as kittens. I owe her something for all the harm I caused her.”

“We were both injured but it was not your doing.”

“I didn’t anticipate it so I take the blame. You want a ride too? Lilly can handle the load.”

She considers my offer. “Perhaps that would be best for all. I could be certain Codii was unharmed and not too frightened.”

I smile. “Yeah. Right. All about Codii. Do we have a deal?”

“Permit me to discuss this with Marteen. If he agrees, I will consider it.”

“You do that. Now to why I came here in the first place. How do the people feel about my return? Are they happy, angry, upset, accepting? What do they think about it?”

“Why does that matter? You are the Queen. Their feelings have never been important before.”

“They are to me. I want to help people but I’m also going to change this world. Some will not be happy with those changes.”

“What kind of changes?”

“Equal rights for women, to start. No more violence against women just because they are women. No debt labor for anyone; man, woman or child. I am improving the health and education systems as quickly as possible. Better roads, better transportation systems, better communication systems and an end to corruption. No more bribes.”

“Who could object to any of that?”

“Well, men for one. Lenders for another, bureaucrats for a third. The list goes on. Some things I can do quickly, some will take time. Some may take generations before they are generally accepted but you have to start somewhere. I would prefer to fight as few people as possible and maybe get more to support some of these changes than fight them. That would help a lot. If I know what the people think, that helps me put my plans in effect and improves the chances of them working. Ultimately, I hope to put myself out of business, to make this world a self-governing democracy but we’re a long way away from that. However, even the longest journey begins with a few, simple steps.”

“That is very wise of you.”

“I got ‘Bartlett’s Book of Quotations’ on my laptop. It makes me sound much smarter than I actually am.”

“Why ask this of me, Alexia? I am not an important person.”

“I won’t insult you and say you represent the common man. You’re too smart for that. You and your family represent a lot of the demographics I’m shooting for, and yes, I know you’ve never heard of ‘demographics’ before and, Zaphod willing, you’ll never hear it again. You and your husband are smart, aware people who have their fingers on the pulse of public opinion. You listen and discuss. Knowing what you know helps me. You’re not the only people I’m talking too but you are one of the most important because you have already been harmed by my actions or inactions. If you can forgive me and move on, then others might follow you because your support is sincere. That’s it in a nutshell. Do you think people will give me the benefit of the doubt? Will they give me a chance to keep my promises?”

Marta sits and looks up at me, thinking about the kind of world I am offering to bring with me onto the throne. She doesn’t answer for at least five decicycles and I don’t push her. Finally, she answers.

“I cannot speak for all, you know that, Alexia?”

“I do and wouldn’t expect you to. Yours is just a voice among many but it is an important voice nonetheless. Will they give me a chance?”

“I believe they will, though early results could bring greater support.”

“That’s almost always the case.” I stand, as does she. “Thank you for a lovely tea. Consider my offer for a quick flight around town. Codii will be the envy of all her friends and you might enjoy it too. Haven’t met anyone yet who completely hated it. Frankly, it’s just a hoot and a half to fly.”

“I understand. Marteen and I will talk about it. Should you wish to know what I think about other matters, I would be pleased to speak with you, as would be some of my neighbors.”

Great. My first Focus Group.

CHAPTER FIFTY TWO

There was a knock at my door late at night. I had been reviewing revised troop estimates for both the Queen’s Guard and the rebel groups for the last hour. The Guard had rebuilt some of their lost strength thanks to those who returned at the Queen’s “suggestion.” Likewise, most of the rebel groups had lost many men, some to the point of disappearing altogether. All except the group funded by First Minister Dupree. In fact, the hard core rebels that Queen Alexia had put on the run seem to have joined his side. His men likely outnumber the Guard, though we are better trained and equipped.

The knock at my door is an old scrub woman, here to clean my office.

“It is not necessary, old woman.”

“I have waited all night, Sir,” she croaks. “You are my last. Once finished, I can go home to my husband and child and prepare their meal.”

“This late? Can they not do that for themselves?”

“In all these years, they have not shown a desire to do so, Sir.”

“Fine, be quick about it.”

“Thank you, Sir. I will be as quick as possible.”

I return to my papers but keep one eye on her as she bustles about, dusting and sweeping. Using domestic workers as spies is a time honored tradition and should always be guarded against. This gray haired and bowed woman seems too old to still have a child at home but she could be an unwed daughter. Her appearance may not reveal her true age, as this kind of work often makes the women appear older than they actually are, much to the distress of their husbands, no doubt. The woman is humming, which makes concentration difficult. No spy would bring such attention to herself.

“What is that song you are humming, woman?”

“Beg your pardon, Sir. Just a habit of mine. Tis’ a folk tune from where I hail. ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ by Freddy Mercury. A popular ditty.”

“Never heard of it.”

“Can’t say I’m surprised. Are the men happy to have the Queen return?”

“What did you ask?”

“Well, the town is full of rumors that Queen Alexia has returned and I was asking if the men were happy that there’s now a Queen for the Queen’s Guard to actually guard.”

“Why is that any of your concern?”

“I have a son who serves, you see. That is how I got this job. He seems to be happy about her return and I was just curious if that feeling was more widespread.”

“It is curiosity that will get you fired from this job, woman.”

“Didn’t mean nothing by it, Sir. Just idle talk to help the time move by quicker.”

“Idle talk indeed. What makes the job go faster is working harder. Finish and be gone.”

The cleaning woman straightens up, standing taller. “You are not making this easy, General.”

Her voice is younger, deeper. As I reach for my sword, she is awash with a bright glow that only lasts a few milicycles before fading rapidly away, leaving me blinking in momentary blindness in my dark office but ready to attack at the slightest provocation.

“Put the sword down, General Packer,” says a familiar voice. “I’d hate to make you eat it.”

I return it to its sheath. “It’s more ceremonial than anything else, Alexia. The men expect it. Not very useful in a battle in this day and age.” It takes another few milicycles before my vision is restored. Alexia is standing before me, dressed in her usual plain garb but, for some reason, her breasts seem more prominent than I have observed before. Perhaps it is a trick of the eye. A happy one. She is watching me with a half-smile on her face.

“Glad to see you remember our conversation, General. It’s like pulling teeth to get anyone around here to call me ‘Alexia.’”

“I am equally pleased that you also recall that conversation. It proves you are who you appear to be. Someone who could transform into a cleaning woman could also transform into Alexia.”

The smile breaks into a full one. “You are a suspicious bastard, General.”

“It is one of the reasons I am alive today. I understand that you also are, as you say, a suspicious bastard.”

“Probably more paranoid than suspicious but that’s splitting hairs.”

“Why are you here, Alexia?”

“Just why I said. I want to know how the Queen’s Guard will react when I return to the throne.”

“A disguise was not necessary. You could have simply asked. I would have told you what I thought, just as I did when asked about the Witches Council.”

“Yeah. About that. You were right and I was wrong. I’ve done what I could to correct that mistake.”

I glance at the stack of reports on my desk. “You have indeed been busy and accomplished much, more than The Guard could have, to be honest, but I am afraid we have moved past the frighten and bluff stage of operations.”

“Frighten and bluff?”

“Yes. My reports say that, with a very few spectacular exceptions, you have avoided actually killing or even injuring the rebels you have attacked. In fact, you have recruited many of the faux witch Queens to your cause.”

“I have my reasons for both, General.”

“Good reasons, I am certain and I will not argue with your success so far. It is just that you have now picked off all of the easy targets and made the harder targets more resolved.”

“You mean that I separated the truly committed rebels from the wannabes and dumped the worst of the worst in one spot.”

“I believe you understand my point.”

“And that one spot is owned by First Minister Dupree, correct?”

“Again, you understand me. His is the largest, best trained, best equipped of the rebel groups. He also has the strongest witch available, Karren Tammy.”

“Is she better than me?”

“I do not believe so but she is not to be taken lightly. She has been hunted most of her life but she remains alive. Her years in hiding have let her lacking in the social graces but more than capable of defending herself. In some respects, she is more dangerous than Opulessa.”

“Why is that?”

“Opulessa was busy being the Queen. Karren Tammy is only concerned about surviving.”

“And she gets to survive in fine style if Dupree wins.”

“Exactly so. If he falls, it should put an end to all of the groups. His defeat would cause them to either surrender or sue for peace. Up until now, he has been content to remain in the North and become stronger, letting all the other groups attack in turn, sapping our manpower and resources.”

“A problem that I just took care of.”

“Yes, you did but in a way that will no longer be effective. The Guard will take it from here, Alexia.”

“I’m the Queen, General. Don’t I call the shots?”

“You are not yet restored to the throne as Queen and even if you were, that is not how the system works in this world.”

“Really! How does ‘the system’ work in my world?”

Saying that may have been a mistake. Her words are not angry but I can hear the emotions behind them. I best tread lightly. “As you have discovered, this is a world resistant to change. Everyone in it has grown up with a witch Queen as the ruler, a man serving as First Minister and the Queen’s Guard keeping the peace. It is what we know, what we have accepted, what we want.”

I pause, waiting to see her reaction. There is none but a tight smile. “Go on,” she says.

“The Queen is the figurehead. She sets the tone of her rule. The First Minister carries out her orders and the Guard ensures stability. If you disrupt this careful balance, chaos ensues.”

“How many women serve in the Guard, General?”

“Women? None! Women are not suitable for such work. The men are there to protect their women.”

“I see. How many women have served as First Minister or in other capacities like Patron or in charge of cities, towns or villages?”

“None that I am aware of. Again, they are not suitable for such work.”

She says nothing for almost a decicycle, just tapping the wall next to her with her finger. “You’re not married, are you General Packer?”

“I am married to my job. I have not had time to find a spouse and am too old now to father a child.”

“That’s a pity. Don’t take this the wrong way but you have no grasp of what life is like outside of Glory, outside of the Guard. I have traveled across my world. I have seen the abuse that takes place out there on a daily basis. I have heard the cries of the women who are ignored, mistreated and kept in servitude. I have seen the needs of the people for better education, better healthcare and General, I’m gonna give it to them. You’re right about one thing, though.”

“Only one?”

“Well, likely more than one but the important one right now is that my world is reluctant to change. It can’t handle rapid change. Actually, very few systems can handle rapid change. Doesn’t matter, change is coming. I’ve got time. Opulessa was Queen for over two hundred years. I can get a lot done in two hundred years.”

“She had the support of the Guard.”

“So will I. When you go after Dupree. I’m going with you.”

“That is impossible! We fight for the Queen! The Queen does not involve herself in these matters. The men will never accept your presence on the battlefield!”

“They will. What you’re worried about is I’m going to interfere with how you run the war. I won’t. I’m not a soldier; in fact, I’m more like a rebel than anything else. I can understand why they won’t accept me but it’s not because they oppose my ideas. They want power. They love the status quo as long as they’re at the top. It’ll be the same song just a different band. It’s a fluke that the person in charge of the status quo wants to change it. You’ll be fighting to give me that chance and I’m going to do everything I can do to help you and keep my Guard alive. No one’s going to die fighting for me. Not if I can help it, General.”

“That is unrealistic, Alexia. This is not a game, it is war. Men are hurt, men die. That is the way it has always been. You cannot change that. For you to be even near the battlefield is dangerous enough. Men are expendable but the Queen is not.”

“They aren’t expendable to their families, their wives and children, their mothers and fathers. If they are willing to fight for me, I’ve got to be willing to take care of them and that means out where they are. I know I’m not a soldier but I’m probably the best Healer there is in this world. Besides, there’s not a gun out there that can hurt me. I can handle bullets.”

“There are more than guns on the battlefield.”

“You mean a cannon? I ran into them a couple of times. I deflected the ball and then took care of the cannon. They’ll only get one shot at me.”

“Sometimes, one shot is all that is necessary.”

“I’m not worried about it, you shouldn’t worry about it either. Look, General, you know that I’m serious about this and there’s nothing you can say that’ll change my mind. You might as well learn how to use me. I’d think that you’d like to have command of the skies over a battle.”

“Of what use is that?”

“Oh General Packer! Do I have something for you to read about Cover Air Patrol.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

A man came running up the path to my tent. It was a pleasant day and I had been eating lunch outside, watching my men drilling on the fields below the hill where my tent was perched. He came to a halt and saluted smartly, breathing heavily.

“First Minister … I have … news,” he gasps between breaths.

“Tell me, man!”

“We have engaged the Queen’s Guard just south of Pottstowne. She and her dragon were there!”

“That should have made no difference. She refuses to kill, the sentimental whore!”

“It was a fearsome sight, First Minister. Many of the men fled.”

“They were not our best troops,” I say, looking down at the men training below. I am saving the best for last but I still expect them all to put up a fight. At least for awhile. “Did the men withdraw as planned?”

“Yes, First Minister, though they suffered higher casualties than expected, nor did they inflict as many casualties as we had hoped.”

“Why is that? We fought from a fortified position and forced them to attack uphill. We should have given them a very bloody nose before retreating to the new redoubt.”

“The dragon may not attack men but it had no problem attacking the fortifications. It set it ablaze, forcing our men to flee. It also burned the obstacles on the hillside, clearing the route for the Guard. After that, the witch and her pet circled the land below, guiding the Guard to our men as they fled.”

“How were they talking?”

“Unkown, but it was General Tasher’s belief that some kind of communication was taking place. He requests that you release the secret weapon to him to kill the dragon.”

“Request denied. The weapon would not kill the dragon. The dragon is pure magic. Nothing can kill it.”

The witch Alexia, on the other hand …

“We lost many men today, First Minister.”

“I will lose many more before this is done. We must lure the witch Alexia to where we want her before striking the fatal blow but we must be careful in doing so. The Guard must feel as if they are winning but not too easily. Return to your post.”

He salutes. “Yes, First Minister.” He turns and runs back the way he came.

There is a smaller tent next to mine that holds several crates. They are our entire remaining supply of what the man from the Winthrop Group called the ‘Russian Model 7 RPG.’ We have used almost a third in training but we must be certain to kill her when we get the chance. If we lose the element of surprise, all will be lost. That she is flying about on that dragon should give us the opportunity sooner than we might have hoped for and make the attack more effective. Alexia may be the most powerful witch in this world but even she cannot manifest a dragon, fly and shield herself from the most powerful explosives found on this world all at the same time.

General Tasher will just need to be more careful in the future.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

I will be the first to admit that I was wrong.

At the outset, my concerns were proven valid. The men resented Alexia’s presence and were very upset that she was planning to fly over their heads riding that dragon. The idea that there was a dragon in the air above them made the Guard very nervous, despite my assurances that it was completely under Alexia’s control.

I sincerely hoped I was not lying to them.

I will also admit that the value of having control of the skies had never occurred to me. That one could observe and report to troops on the ground, directing them towards the enemy and alerting them to potential traps was a new tactic. Alexia had several devices that permitted her to talk to others while she was flying overhead.

The men grasped the value immediately.

During our first fight with Dupree’s men, it appeared that they had us at a great disadvantage. They held the high ground, the hillside was full of assorted barriers and they were well dug in. In a matter of decicycles, Alexia changed all that. She flew low over the battlefield and burned several clear paths through the barriers on the hillside. In addition, she attacked the rebel’s fortifications, scattering the red clad rebels back to their lines.

She called it aerial bombardment.

The men called it a miracle. An attack that would have cost me many men became a clean up mission. Even then, several Guards were wounded in the fight with Dupree’s men, two severely. When that was reported to Alexia, she swooped down, grabbed the men with the claws of the dragon and brought them back to our camp within decicycles. She dismounted, the dragon disappeared in the blink of an eye, and she immediately turned to caring for the injured men.

I had never seen a Healer work so hard before. Usually, the patient is sick or has some kind of minor injury. These men had been shot, some more than once, one of them in the head. Before, none of them would have lived but Alexia saved them all, even the man with the head wound, though he will need more time to fully recover.

By the third day, most of the men had removed the old yellow insignia from their black tunics and were sporting hand drawn dragons on the breast plates of their uniforms. They cheered wildly whenever the Queen appeared. She was one of them. Opulessa never had that kind of support, not even when she sent them wagon loads of Klatch.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

“General Tasher, for the last time, we cannot afford to squander these weapons in the weekly skirmishes with the Queen’s Guard.”

“Skirmishes? First Minister, we are getting our heads bounced! That Zaphod forsaken witch and her pet are destroying everything in her path. We might as well be fighting in open fields. The only protection we have is rocky high ground and that is not much.”

“We outnumber them, General.”

“And they know exactly where we are. They avoid our ambushes and we fall into theirs. My men are being reaped like corn!”

“Not your men, General Tasher. MY men. I paid for them. I bought their weapons. I found the man in the Winthrop Group who was willing to smuggle their rifles and our limited supply of the precious RPGs into our world without the knowledge of the Queen’s Guard.”

“You cannot pay a man enough to die. If we do not spring this miraculous trap you speak of, your men will not be around long.”

Someone rang the bell at the entrance of my tent.

“Yes!” I call out.

One of Queen Tammy’s Special Guard pulls the flap of the tent back and enters.

“Queen Tammy requests the honor of your presence, First Minister,” rolling his eyes at the mention of “Queen Tammy.”

“What does the hag want?” asks Tasher.

“I do not know, General. She does not discuss these matters with us. She just orders us about.”

“Gentlemen,” I warn, “be careful how you speak of the future ruler of this world. Tammy is no Opulessa but Opulessa did not begin as Opulessa. She became more skilled as she grew older.”

“Then she best become very skilled very quickly because she is insisting on challenging Queen Alexia,” says the trooper.

“Is she daft?” asks Tasher.

“She claims to be more powerful than she has ever been in her life.”

“That is likely true,” I say. “With Alexia in the area, there is more magic available and Queen Tammy is using that extra power. Unfortunately, that goes both ways and Alexia is more powerful with Queen Tammy nearby, though, as I understand it, Queen Tammy gets the net gain because Alexia is the stronger of the two.”

“How do you know this, First Minister?” asks Tasher.

“I found it best to discover as much as I could about magic when dealing with Opulessa. It is best to know as much about your friends as you do about your enemies. Let us go visit Queen Tammy.”

“Do we have the time to humor the hag?”

“General Tasher, when we defeat the witch Alexia, Tammy will be the witch on the throne. Would you wish her to think kindly of you or unkindly of you?”

“Bah! It is a waste of time but I see your point. No harm in being nice now. It may benefit us in the future.” He stands up, dusting off his jacket and straightening his sheathed sword. “Lead the way, soldier.”

The trooper holds the tent flap back, clearing the way for the General and I to exit. As we leave the tent, the trooper hurries ahead to escort us down the hill to where Queen Tammy’s tent has been erected. It is at least eighty decileagues from mine and further downhill.

All the better for me to keep an eye on her. Sometimes, hired underlings are just not good enough. It is always best to see things with the naked eye, to observe what others might miss. As we tromp down the hill, the men move off, saluting as we pass. The same occurs at Queen Tammy’s tent where there are two guards.

“Who ordered the guards?” demands Tasher.

“She did,” answers our escort. “Afraid of being snuck up upon in the dead of night. Or any other time. Usually there are three times as many men out here but it is mess time so there’s only two.”

“Waste of manpower,” grumbles the General as he reaches for the tent flap. One of the guards gently blocks his hand.

“Sorry, Sir,” he apologizes. “Have to announce you. Her orders.”

The General glares at the guard, frustration clear on his face but he holds his tongue, dropping his hand and nodding curtly at the guard.

“Thank you, Sir,” whispers the trooper as he steps through the flap into the tent. “General Tasher and First Minister Dupree reporting as ordered, my Queen.”

“As ordered?” Tasher grumbles.

“Be respectful, General. We need a witch and she is the best choice of the lot. As a Sixty Three, she may be the second most powerful witch in the land.”

“For all the good it does us,” he says before plunging through the opening in the tent. I follow right behind.

We find my witch, Kareen Tammy, fifty two years of age and showing every one of those years, dressed in the finery of a woman half her age, sitting in an old wooden chair placed on a six milileague raised platform, a Special Guard on either side looking thoroughly embarrassed. I would laugh at the sight if she was not so necessary for my plans.

I bow deeply before Queen Tammy. The General eventually follows my example. It is easier for me. I had much practice with Opulessa.

She bids us rise with a flick of her wrist. “Thank you for answering my call so promptly, Gentlemen.”

“We live to serve, my Queen,” I answer, oozing charm as I stand. I nudge the General, who also rises up but remains silent. That is likely best for both our sakes. “Did Your Majesty have something specific you wished to discuss?”

“Yes, Dupree.”

I cringe almost imperceptibly at her failure to use my title. Such an uncouth woman! Still, it is probable that her lack of contact with the real world saved her life. Opulessa would never have permitted a Sixty Three witch to survive, no matter how good a Healer she was.

Tammy was not much of a Healer. In fact, there are few of the skills most witches possess that she has mastered, except the art of killing.

At that, she is very good. Another reason that she has survived the many witch hunts held since her birth. Despite her uncivilized behavior and unfashionable airs, it is best that I not forget she is much more dangerous than she looks. Even if humored, she might strike out in anger or frustration.

“I believe that we have waited long enough to allow that trollop Alexia to become over confident enough for me to challenge her. Please arrange a contest as quickly as possible.”

The General is less successful than I at stifling his laughter. I have warned him repeatedly in the past not to take Tammy at face value.

“Did you find something I said humorous, General Tasher?”

“No, my Queen, it is just that Alexia is not likely to accept your challenge, seeing as they are mostly winning on the battlefield.”

“She will have no choice. It is how we live, General.”

“Or die. No offense, Queen Tammy, but you couldn’t have beaten Opulessa and she did.”

“She was fortunate.”

“No, my Queen,” I say. “Alexia was good and she has become stronger.”

“As have I.”

Tasher sighs loudly. “Enough of this. Show me your dragon.”

Tammy is confused. “My what?”

“Your dragon, my Queen. The large, fire breathing creature that you ride as it flies across the sky, obliterating all structures before it. The one that I have seen is as black as midnight but glisten like a fine jewel in the sun. What color is yours, my Queen?”

Tammy turns to me. “Of what is he speaking?”

“I believe that General Tasher is making the suggestion that unless you can at least duplicate the magic of Alexia you would have little chance of winning any challenge you might make. Your survival is vital to our plans for the future, my Queen. It would be best that you leave the pursuit of this war to the professionals. Is there anything else you need from us?”

“It is the way of our world that one Queen succeeds another through direct conflict. The people will accept nothing less, Dupree.”

“You could be correct, my Queen. We will deal with it when the time is right. Good day.”

Both I and General Tasher briefly bow and stride out, walking back up the hill to my tent.

“First Minister. That woman is more trouble than she is worth but she does raise a valid point. The tradition is quite clear. One witch must defeat the other. How is Karren Tammy ever going to defeat Alexia?”

“What is important is that Alexia die, General. Who is to say that Queen Tammy did not do so? One witch dead, one witch alive. We can tell whatever story we wish as to how that happened. I doubt that Queen Tammy will be interested in correcting us when the throne is within her grasp.”

CHAPTER FIFTY THREE

It had been weeks since we had faced any serious fighting. Not that I’m complaining. No bad injuries to fix. We’re making steady progress, moving further North into heavily forested areas of this world. It’s getting harder for me to see what’s going on below as Lilly and I glide through the skies above the tree tops. General Packer keeps warning me not to get too close to the trees. There could be snipers high up, just waiting for me, cutting down my reaction time but I’m not much use two leagues above the action.

The men have completely accepted me. The armorers made me a uniform that matches theirs only mine has a full black skirt instead of black pants and the breastplate is a little fuller than the usual troopers. We wear the same basic black uniform that was the style when Opulessa was Queen. General Packer offered to make changes but I told him not to bother, that there were more important things to worry about. Ultimately, the men took matters in their own hands and changed the uniforms themselves. Most of them removed the old yellow insignia from their long, heavy cloth shirts and replaced it with hand dawn pictures of Lilly. Some did it themselves and others hired more skilled artists to do it for a fee. There were many different styles. When this is done, I should hold a contest for the creation of a new insignia.

I have my meals with General Packer most every day in his tent. Sometimes we both eat with the men but it’s mostly in his tent. We make sure to eat the same food that the men do but, somehow, I think there is a little more care taken in the preparation of our servings than theirs.

The privileges of rank and all.

I gently try to push Packer to be more aggressive but he’s the cautious type. I have to respect that. It’s not my life on the line out there. Sure, someone could get lucky and pick me off but I’m at much less risk than all the men on the ground. I won’t do anything to increase their risk. It’s already unnerving enough to have someone actually risking their lives to protect mine or to fight in my name. I’ve always taken care of myself and my family, fought my own battles. That’s MY job. But now … there are so many of them. Some are just young kids. I know, I’m just twenty two. There are officers who have daughters my age or older but there are also kids barely eighteen. Lots of the men are married, have children. They’re just regular guys.

All their lives are on the line because of me.

Packer assures me that it’s nothing personal. I’m the Queen. There’s always been a Queen. If it wasn’t me, it would be some other witch but we both know that’s not true. I’m the one who upset the apple cart, the one who shattered the status quo. Is this better than what came before? Right now, maybe not. It’s the promise of a better future and these guys are paying that forward. One of my current jobs is that as many of them as possible live to enjoy that better future.

When I enter his tent this morning, Packer quickly stands and greets me.

“Good morning, Alexia. You are looking beautiful this morning. As always. You do the uniform proud. Did you sleep well?”

“Thank you. Yes, I did. Any news from the front?”

“Let us enjoy our breakfast before discussing the war.” He walks over to a small folding table that has our breakfast laid out on it. “What would you care for this morning? We have the usual eggs, sausage, oatmeal and fried corn mush with syrup.”

I usually dig right in, eating more than my fair share. Lately, I’ve been hungrier than normal, maybe it’s all the magical energy I’ve been expending but, for some reason, this morning, just the thought of eating turns my stomach. It’s all I can do to keep from throwing up.

“No thanks, General. I’m feeling just a little bit off this morning.”

“Are you ill?” The concern is clear in his voice.

“No. No, I’m sure I’m not. I’ll just have a cup of hot tea and sit over here while you eat.”

“Protocol dictates that if you do not eat then I cannot.”

“General, when have we ever followed protocol? You eat, I’ll drink my tea and all will be right with the world.”

“As you wish, Alexia.”

He hands me a metal cup three quarters full of steaming hot tea and I sit as far away from the food as possible because even the smell upsets my stomach. After a few sips, I’m feeling better. Not well enough to eat but better. We picked up our conversation from where we left off yesterday after supper. I was explaining to him what a printing press was and how it had changed my old world. He had been very enthusiastic last night.

“I do enjoy reading, Alexia. A man cannot be a soldier all his life. Even generals can get too old. Our wits are not as sharp, our judgments not as good. It is always best to get some young blood in the upper ranks.”

“I don’t know if I would trust anyone else, General Packer.”

“You are too kind, Alexia, but there are several other officers I would have no trouble promoting to my position but not until this war is finished. However, when that day comes, the idea of running a printing press, of being what you called a ‘publisher’ sounds appealing. Perhaps you and I could design and build one of those printing presses.”

“I’d bet Johnathyn would have some great ideas. The man is really good with his hands. Some of the things he can do with iron amazes me. There was this one time when …”

Suddenly, a Guard rushes in, dirty and disheveled, out of breath and gasping.

“My pardons, General … my Queen … there has been a surprise attack! We … were forced to retreat … two squads … covered the retreat … but they were cut off!”

Packer is instantly up and out of his chair, reaching for his sword.

“Where are they?”

“One, maybe one and a half leagues northwest of this position. The rebels are pushing a large number of men into the breach. I am afraid we will not be able to save them.”

“Not on my watch!” I declare, bolting from the tent. Lilly materializes twenty decileagues in front of me and I’m astride her in moments. “RADIO!” I shout.

Packer emerges from his tent, one of my two-way radios in his pocket with the Voice Operated Headset over his right ear, the other radio combo in his hand.

“Alexia! It is not wise to expose yourself to this situation. It could be several cycles, at best, for the Guard to regroup and recover the lost territory, if at all. These men knew the risks.”

I hold out my hand towards him. “General, you know I’m going. You might as well get some real time intelligence out of it.”

He steps forward, slapping the radio into the palm of my outstretched hand but not releasing it. “You be careful or they will have my head on a pike.”

“Can’t have that, it’s such a distinguished head.”

He releases his grip and Lilly takes to the sky as I adjust the headset and begin broadcasting.

“Testing, testing, testing. Over.”

“I hear you, Alexia. What do you see? Over”

“Nothing yet. Let me get some altitude. Over” Several milicycles later, I see the bigger picture. “Lots of Guard running back towards the camp but they aren’t panicking. One group holds while another pulls back then they leapfrog each other. It’s slowing the rebel advance. Over”

“How many men? Over”

“Hard to say for sure. Too much tree cover. What I wouldn’t give for just a little Agent Orange right now. Over”

“Agent what?

“Never mind. I’d guess at least 600 men but that’s a rough estimate. I’m going in to look for our lost men. Over.”

I fly in over the heads of the invading rebels. There’s the occasional shot in my direction but I’ve got my minimal shields up. I can keep them active and still keep Lilly in one solid piece and flying. If we’re on the ground, I can increase the strength of the shields but if I have to go to max shields, Lilly’s gotta go. As we move deeper into the woods, the sound of gunfire from the front fades and I hear gunfire coming from my left. Lilly quickly banks that way and drops down, skimming the treetops. I can hear the sounds of fighting below me but the cover is too thick to be certain.

“Time to make a hole, Lilly.”

We fly just a bit further north, leaving the gunfire behind us and Lilly takes a deep breath, preparing to take out a small grove of trees. She lets the heat build up and then releases it in the form of an intense, flaming ball that lands softly in the crowns of several trees and then burns straight down to the ground, reducing everything it touches to ash.

“Take us down, girl. Hard and loud.”

Lilly can land as lightly as a butterfly when she wants to but she can also make a statement when necessary. We hit the ground with the impact of a twenty ton block of cement and an unearthly roar, the ground shaking and the trees swaying.

“Let’s go find our guys.”

We go crashing through the woods back the way we flew over, heading into the firefight. I want everyone to know we’re coming. With her wings tucked in and her big, hard head pulled back into her shoulders, Lilly is more like a big black bulldozer than a flying machine. She snaps off smaller trees and pushes larger ones aside, uprooting them. I can see rebel troops scrambling to get out of our way but they aren’t leaving. They’re simply closing in behind us. We break out into a small clearing where I see the Guard’s men taking cover behind trees and fallen timber.

I jump off, landing among the men, who are shocked to see me.

“Hey guys, the cavalry is here,” I shout above the din of the gunfire. “Who’s in charge?”

It takes them a moment to realize that it’s really me. A sergeant grabs my sleeve, pulling me down to the ground.

“My Queen! What are you doing here?!”

“I’ve come to rescue you, Sergeant. Lead me to whoever is in command. Wait one milicycle.” I raise my hand to signal Lilly and make a large circle over my head. She immediately begins to clear an open area around our position, knocking down trees and piling them between us and the enemy. “Alright, Sergeant. Lead on.”

He rushes away, running in a squatting position as I follow. We quickly reach a large fallen tree with several men crouched behind it and an officer lying on the ground.

“This is Lieutenant Grayson, my Queen. He is our commanding officer.”

The man looks barely old enough to shave. His head is wrapped in a bloody cloth covering one eye. He’s also wounded in the shoulder, his left leg and maybe his right side but he struggles to stand.

“At ease, Grayson,” I say gently, kneeling next to him as he settles back down. “What is your situation?”

“At least ten men dead. Many more wounded. We have held our position, as ordered, my Queen.”

Ten dead! That’s horrible! “You’ve performed admirably, all of you have, but it’s time to go.” I flick my headset back on. “General Packer, do you read me? Over.”

“Thank Zaphod you are alive! Where are you, Alexia?”

“I’m with squad … what’s your designation, Sergeant?”

“Squad 12, 3rd Regiment. The rest of the lads are Squad 6, Ma’am.”

“I’m with Squads 6 and 12 of the 3rd Regiment, General. When can you get here? Over.”

“It will be cycles if at all. We are facing stiff resistance. Over.”

“I don’t think we can hold them off that long, General. Over.”

“Then you should leave immediately! Over.”

I look at each of the men near me, the haggard, hopeless looks in their eyes. They heard what Packer said, as did Lieutenant Grayson. He reaches up with his one good hand and grabs the sleeve of my uniform. “The General is right, my Queen. We have all sworn to protect you, to die in your service if necessary. All is lost should you perish here today. Do not let our sacrifice be in vain.”

“It’s a little too early to abandon ship, Lieutenant. Let’s give the General a chance.”

Lilly has finished building our barricade. I dismiss her and go to full shields. The area around us grows quieter as the hail of bullets is deflected away. I flick my headset again.

“General. Things have stabilized here. We’ll hang on a bit longer, give you a chance to be the hero. Over.”

“As you wish, my Queen.”

He only calls me ‘my Queen’ over the radio when he’s particularly pissed at me. The men appear relieved but uncertain. Best act confident.

“Lieutenant, perhaps we could use this lull in the action to check on the men. I’ll stay here with you and the Sergeant can make the rounds. If that meets with your approval.”

He smiles weakly. “Sergeant, you heard the Lady.”

“Aye, Sir. Be back in a fool’s jingle. Come with me, lads.”

All the men hurry off, leaving me alone with Grayson.

“A fool’s jingle?” I inquire.

Grayson gives several deep, worrisome coughs. “A local saying. It means as quickly as he can. Sergeant Timbler is a good man. They all are. Proud to have served with them.” He coughs several more times, the last two with blood spraying from his mouth. That is never good. I start to quickly examine his injuries but he tries to stop me.

“There are others who could use your skills more than I, my Queen.”

“Unfortunately, my skills are not available right now. I’m using everything I’ve got to keep the shield up to protect us. You just need to hang on until help comes. I know some basic First Aid that doesn’t require magic but it won’t help much.”

“My Queen …”

“Call me Alexia. That’s an order from your Queen.”

He laughs lightly. “As you wish, Alexia. We both know that help is not coming. We saw how many men poured through the breach in our lines. We held our position but could not stop the advance, there were too many of them. They just went around us. The forest is too vast. The rebels who are out there now are just to keep us here until the main body of men can return to finish us off. Now that you are here, they will return even faster in the hope that they can kill or capture you. We are dead men, there is no hope for us but you can escape. Summon your dragon and fly away as quickly as possible.”

“What if I fly you and your men out of here with me?”

“How many men can you take at a time?”

“Four, maybe five.”

“That would be at least six round trips without your magic to protect us while you were away. How do I choose which of my men live and which ones die? It is better that we all follow our oaths.”

“Like hell it is, Grayson. Even one man surviving is better than none but I plan to do a lot better than one. You hang in there and we’ll see what happens. Sergeant Timbler’s back.”

Timbler comes running up, sliding to a halt, breathing hard.

“Report, Sergeant,” orders Grayson.

“Aye, Sir. We’ve got twenty seven men, counting yourself. Three are wounded as bad as you but the other five wounded can get by. That dragon done a knock up job of building a barricade. Wish we had it at the start of this mess. I got the lads up and watching the rebels. More of them are coming every decicycle. Seems word has spread about the Queen.”

There are normally twenty men and a lieutenant in a squad. Fifteen men dead and things aren’t getting any better. I can read the ‘I told you so’ on Grayson’s smug face. I knew it anyway because of the increased pressure on the shields. In the past, when they realized they weren’t getting through, most gunmen stopped shooting to save their ammo but these guys never stopped. In fact, it’s been steadily growing over the last few decicycles. Unfortunately, Grayson was right.

I stand up and reach up under my dress, pulling down my slim petticoat. I hand it to a flustered Sergeant Timbler.

“I assume someone around here has some Klatch, Sergeant.”

“There will be none. It’s not permitted out in the field, Alexia,” says Grayson.

“That’s not exactly true, Lieutenant. Some of the lads and I liberated a few bottles last week, if you know what I mean,” Timbler guiltily admits.

“Good. Get me a bottle and tear that up into bandages. See if you can spare a man to help me look after the wounded. I’ll need him in a fool’s jingle.”

The Sergeant smiles broadly. “Aye, Alexia,” and he rushes off.

In less than five decicycles, Timbler returns with a handful of bandages and a ceramic bottle of Klatch. We make the rounds, binding and disinfecting the wounds but it’s clear that the four most wounded won’t last much longer without treatment and I can do nothing while expending my energies on the shield. Whenever I look above the barricade, all fire is concentrated on me, making it that much harder to maintain the shield. In addition, the numbers keep growing. Men are now standing out in the open, pouring fire into the shield. Where the hell are they getting all this ammo? If someone gets smart enough to concentrate all the fire on one spot, I might not be able to hold them off. The strain is beginning to tell on me.

“Are you well, Alexia?” asks Timbler after we finish with the last man.

“I’ve been better, Sergeant. What the hell is wrong with these people? They just keep firing! Why don’t they get the hint?”

“They really hate you, Ma’am. Begging your pardon. Dupree’s got a big reward for whoever gets you. A fine farm and animals.”

“Feeling tempted, Sergeant?”

He’s shocked by my suggestion. “Ain’t a man among us ever considered it for a milicycle!”

“Sergeant, did you serve while Opulessa was Queen?”

“Aye, I did.”

“Would those idiots be out there if Opulessa was here?”

“Well, she wouldn’t have been here now, would she? Not that kind of witch was Opulessa. Didn’t mix with the common folk much.”

“But she was feared, wasn’t she?”

“Oh, she was feared a treat, that one was.”

Looking out between the logs, I can see the rebels laughing and blasting away, like it’s a big NRA shooting fest of some kind. They are all dressed in mismatched, basically red uniforms, a total hodge podge of tops, pants and boots. They don’t fear me at all. I tap my headset.

“General Packer, this is Alexia. What is the good word? Over”

It takes several milicycles for him to answer.

“Alexia, there is no good word. You must leave immediately. Over.”

“Assuming I can, these men will be slaughtered instantly. I can’t let that happen, General. I won’t let that happen. Over”

“You have no choice. Over.”

“Yes I do. Are any of the Guard near our position? Over.”

There’s another almost a decicycle of silence.

“Our closest is southwest about three quarters of a league but they are under heavy attack and not moving. Over.”

“Tell them to keep their heads down. Over.”

I remove the headset.

“Sergeant, spread the word. In about four decicycles, it’s going to get very hot around here. I’m dropping the shield but don’t worry, the rebels will have much more to worry about than attacking you. How many men do you think are out there by now?”

“Over 200, Ma’am.”

“You’re probably right. Spread the word. Tell the men to save their ammunition. Signal me when you’re done.”

As Timbler circulates among the men, I climb to the highest part of the barricade, keeping out of sight of the rebel gunmen. I watch for his hand signal. When he gives it, I take a deep breath and stand up, holding a blazing fireball in each hand. I throw them in opposite directions and they explode in the air above the rebels with a loud thunderclap. The gunfire pauses for a moment. Now I’ve got their attention.

“REBELS OF FIRST MINISTER DUPREE! YOU WILL ALLOW US TO LEAVE THIS PLACE WITH NO FURTHER HARM. IF YOU DO NOT, YOU WILL DIE. HERE. NOW. WHAT IS YOUR ANSWER?”

The gunfire returns, accompanied with derisive laughter and a few unrepeatable insults.

So be it.

The shield falls away as Lilly appears with an earsplitting roar. The firing falters for just a moment. I spring onto her back.

“Time to show these rebels what a real bitch is capable of Lilly. Fire at will.”

Her chest quickly expands, the air rushing in to fill her lungs. The men immediately in front of us start to run for cover.

Too late for that. Much too late.

She unleashes a laser like stream of fire; tight, narrow and intense, almost blue in color. It cuts through the men it strikes as if they were made of tissue paper. They don’t even get a chance to scream in pain. She sweeps her head left, then right, leaving no one standing. Taking to the air, we pivot around, the beam of unbridled heat swinging with us, obliterating anything it touches whether it is wood, metal or flesh. We take three laps around the perimeter, blasting anything that isn’t already ablaze or smoldering, before landing where we started, felled trees piled like pick up sticks around the edge of our position.

All is silent except for the pops and cracks of burning wood.

As the men clamber to the top of the barricade to survey the total destruction, Sergeant Timbler pauses at the top, reaches into his pack, removes a bottle of Klatch, pulls the stopper and takes a big, long swallow. When finished, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and reseals the bottle.

“Aye! Now that’s a Queen a man can get behind!”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

I gallop up to the headquarters of the 3rd Regiment, quickly dismount and rush into the tent. Major General Taliman is meeting with his senior officers. It is several milicycles before anyone notices that I’m present but when they do, all snap to attention.

“Taliman! What progress in reaching the Queen?”

“It is … unclear, General.”

“Unclear? What does that mean?”

“Until ten decicycles ago, the rebels were fighting like rabid wolves but then they fled.”

“So why are your men not attacking?”

“We suspect a trap of some kind.”

“Those are your men out there, Taliman.”

“And they did their duty when they stayed behind to protect the retreat.”

“And now the Queen is rescuing them.”

“Not to put too fine a point on it, Sir, but who asked her to rescue them?”

“The Queen feels a responsibility to protect all her men, Major General.”

“That is unfortunate, Sir.”

“She sees the world differently than the military does. That is not necessarily a bad thing. Right now, I am ordering your men to attack. We need to reach them as quickly as …”

My radio beeps, announcing an incoming call. I quickly remove it from my pocket and push the “talk” button.

“Yes, Alexia. Where are you? Over.”

“We’re almost at the edge of the fight, General. Tell them not to shoot us when we get there. Over.”

“You are almost where?”

“Where are you, General? Over.”

“I am with the 3rd Regiment. Over.”

“What a coincidence. So are we. Look up.”

We all rush out of the tent just in time to see Lilly glide overhead carrying several men in her claws. With a rapid flap of her wings, she wheels left and flies towards my headquarters. In a few milicycles, a squad of men emerges from the woods in front of us. Most of the men drop to their knees or sit down, exhausted. One of the older men trots up to the Command tent, saluting me.

“Report, Sergeant.”

“Thank you, General Sir. The Queen wanted me to tell you that she’s taken the most badly wounded to the Headquarters. She could have gotten them there sooner but Lieutenant Grayson made her promise not to leave us unprotected. We moved as fast as possible but even with her leading the way, we could only go so fast, some of the lads were hurt too. I’m afraid Lieutenant Grayson didn’t make it but she’ll try no matter what. That’s some lady there.”

“How did you escape, Sergeant?”

“She did it, Sir. She and that dragon of hers. Killed them all she did. Over 200 men in a fool’s jingle. Killed even more while we quick marched back here. Any time some rebel group found us, she burned em’ to a crisp. We’d never have made it without her, Sir. Queen Alexia,” he just shakes his head, “there’s no one like her.”

CHAPTER FIFTY FOUR

I spoke with all the survivors of squads 6 and 12. They tell a similar story, one that I hoped never to hear. It is getting dark when I reach my headquarters. My first stop is the Healer’s Tents. Alexia had already come and gone. Unfortunately, Sergeant Timbler was correct. Lieutenant Grayson had died on the way back. Alexia had saved the other three men. Twenty eight out of forty two. Under the circumstances, truly remarkable.

My next stop is her tent. I find her sitting at a table, the darkness of the evening filling the tent, stayed only by a single lit candle sitting in the middle of the table, next to an open bottle of Klatch. She is reclining in the chair, legs forward, head back, a mug in her hand.

“Come in, General. Have a seat. It’s been some day, hasn’t it?”

I walk in and sit down opposite her.

“Yes indeed. May I?” I reach for the bottle.

“Knock yourself out. Not literally, of course. One of us needs to stay sober, though it’ll probably be me. Damn the luck.”

“Why will you stay sober?”

She swirls the mug, brings it to her nose and makes a terrible face, as if she had smelled something very unpleasant.

“I’ve never been a big fan of Klatch but there is one thing you can say for it, you can get very plastered very fast. Now just the smell of it turns my stomach, so I get to stay sober tonight. Lucky me.”

I reach across the table and gently remove the mug from her hand, fill it from the bottle and take a small sip. Truth be told, I am not a lover of Klatch but I have learned to tolerate it as there is much social drinking in the military. Social drinking and more.

“I spoke with the men you saved. They are all quite grateful.”

“Including Lieutenant Grayson? No wait, he’s dead. He was a nice, smart, officer out doing his duty to protect the Queen and he’s now dead. I heard him die, did you know that? Nothing I could do about it. He made me promise to protect his men before bringing him back here.”

“That is something you might have done.”

“I’m a powerful witch. Nothing can hurt me.”

“That is not what the men say. They say that it was a close call for all of you.”

“Maybe it was. Either way, I took care of it.” She sighs loudly. “Yeah. I took care of it.”

“Alexia, the first rule of war is that men die. I know that this is hard for you to accept and, while you may not believe it, that is one of the things that I most admire about you. Before you came to join us, you had experienced taking someone’s life both accidentally and intentionally, in the heat of the moment and with cold calculation, weighing the pluses and minuses. That is exactly what you did today when trapped behind the lines. You had your men to protect and you had no other way to do it than to fight your way out. The fact that you possessed a weapon superior to those possessed by your enemy is to your benefit. Have you not said in the past that a fair fight is for fools?”

“But I killed over three hundred men today!”

“And before today, you killed five men in front of an audience and two of the Queen’s Guard who tried to harm you and your family. Are their deaths more or less important than the men who died today at your hand?”

“You’re not making this any easier, General.”

“I am not trying to. If you wish to be Queen of this world, you must think about things like this. You must come to understand, truly understand, the task you will be taking on. The responsibilities that you bear. At first, I objected to your presence but have come to realize that it is an invaluable education not just for you but for any future ruler.”

“So this is a classroom?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Did Opulessa go through this?”

“She was much older than I but I think not. She never struck me as being particularly thoughtful about such things. I am not likely the best person for you to talk with about this. I have been a soldier for far too long but you need to speak with someone.”

“How do YOU do it, General Packer?”

“I long ago accepted the realities of war, including that it be as short as possible. It is the decisions of others that started those conflicts.”

“So you pass the blame to the politicians?”

“No man who has experienced war would willingly return to it without good cause. It is my hope that you will become the kind of Queen who understands that. War is not the first choice, it is the last.”

I stand, picking up the bottle as I rise. “I leave you to your thoughts, Alexia. I will take this with me so you will not give in to temptation.”

“The only temptation is to toss it out the door. It must have gone bad, that’s my only explanation.”

“Good night, Alexia. If it means anything, I would have done the same if I had been in your place.”

“Including letting Grayson die?”

“He had his duty. You honored his decision and gave his death meaning. There are many worse ways to die.”

“There are also better ways to live. I don’t know if I can do this, General.”

“Do not make any hasty decisions. I will send over some hot tea and fresh bread. That should help you this evening. Tomorrow is a new day with new challenges. Get what sleep you can.”

“Thanks for trying to help, General.”

As I leave the Queen to her ruminations, I make a note to send a message to Glory the first thing in the morning by pigeon. She needs more help than I can provide.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

“ONE QUARTER DUPREE!”

“General Tasher, calm yourself. We both knew that many men might die. It is all for a good cause.”

General Tasher is struggling to control his anger, that much is obvious. He came charging into my tent not twenty milicycles ago, spouting the most colorful curses against Alexia and the Queen’s Guard before telling me of today’s disastrous results. The losses are disheartening but hardly fatal to our cause. I told him so. He did not react well.

“You do not understand, First Minister. We have nothing to stop that witch from doing this again and again. Practically all the men saw what happened out there. The Queen’s Guard squadrons set up in a choke point. If they had had a few more men, they might have been able to stop our advance. As it was, most of my men returned that same way and saw all the corpses, still smoldering among the burning trees and scorched earth. If they had not seen it then you could not avoid the sickening smell of charred flesh. Soon we will have twice as many deserters as there are dead.”

“These men accepted my coin, they gave me their oath of loyalty.”

“Men like these are loyal only as long as there is a profit, First Minister. Right now, you could not offer enough for any one of them to stand in front of Alexia and her dragon.”

“You do realize that the dragon is only a figment of her magic, don’t you?”

“Figment or not, hundreds of men are dead. By dawn tomorrow, our ranks will be depleted further.”

“Post guards to keep the men from deserting.”

“The guards will desert. No one wishes to stay in the face of certain death. You cannot pay a man to die.”

“Certainly, if their families were to receive the benefit …”

“Men like these do not have families. They likely have bastard children running about somewhere but not wives, not families. Our only hope is your otherworld weapons. We must use them now or all will be lost.”

“This is not the ideal time …”

Tasher slams his fist on to the top of the table, rattling the dishes left from my supper.

“By Zaphod’s gigantic organ, we are out of time!”

“General! Control yourself! If the men hear us disagreeing, it will damage morale.”

Tasher shakes his head. “You deluded fool. There is no ‘morale,’ only the contents of your purse.”

He may have a point. The men certainly appear less committed after today. Perhaps now is as good as any time to spring my trap. I remove a map from a stack next to my chair and roll it out across the table. I need to find a good location. It takes several decicycles of searching the map but I think I have found it. I lay my finger on it.

“Here is where we will do it.”

The general bends down to get a closer view. “What is this?”

“A box canyon not too far from our current lines. We can start a skirmish to draw her attention and then, when she has flown lower, the Fusiliers will fire. She will have no room to run or hide. We will have her.”

“And why would she come down to this trap?”

“Because, General, we will have men dressed as Queen’s Guardsmen being attacked by my rebels. Why do you think I gave orders to strip their dead on the battlefield? I have a large collection of their uniforms. If today has proven anything, it is that Alexia will try to protect her men if she believes they are in danger.”

“Are you certain that one of your RPG’s can kill her?”

“One? No. A RPG has been known to destroy one of the otherworld’s large flying machines, killing many men but one would not kill Alexia. Eight, on the other hand, should be more than enough. I will have ten. Does that meet with your approval, General?”

He looks closer at the map, tracing the current front line, as best we know it, with his right index finger until he comes to the point nearest the canyon.

“If we start here.” He moves his finger to another nearby location along the front. “And here, that should get their attention.”

“So, you approve, General?”

He taps the box canyon with that same index finger. “Let us bring that bitch down!”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

I haven’t been able to get much sleep the last two days since I unleashed Lilly on those men. Every time I fall asleep, I dream of Opulessa. In my dreams, I keep merging with her so that you cannot tell the difference between us. The nightmares are short but I always wake up sweating. I’m afraid of going back to sleep, afraid the nightmare will pick up where it left off. Eventually, I do fall back asleep and I’m right back in the same dream. It wakes me up and the cycle repeats all night.

This world doesn’t have a lot of written history and the oral history stories vary all over the place. It’s possible that I killed in one day more people than Opulessa did in two hundred years! Apparently, she raised a lot of hell in her early years but by the time she was on her second hundred years she had mellowed a bit, spending more time on her hobbies, like creating abominations of nature. If she was a monster, what does that make me?

Packer was right. One life or a thousand; what’s the difference? I can claim my motives are pure but they’re just as dead, motives be damned. What gives me the right to destroy so many men with a simple act of magic? What gives me the right to kill a single man? Just because they disagree with me as to how this world should be run, is that enough to excuse fratricide?

Sleeplessness and upset stomachs in the morning are playing hell with my mood. I can usually eat something at lunch and it’ll stay down, as long as it’s pretty bland. Suppers are mostly fine as long as no one reminds me about what I passed on at breakfast.

Dawn of the third day ends another fitful night of sleep and finds a cooling breakfast on my table. Someone rings the bell outside my tent.

“Alexia, are you well?”

“I’m fine, General. Just the usual upset stomach. I’ll be fine by lunch.”

“I spoke with the cooks. No one else is suffering from your morning malady.”

Great. I’m special. Could be worse. “That’s okay, General. I’m sure it’s nothing. A little stomach flu or a bad bit of meat. It’ll pass eventually.”

“Do you feel well enough for visitors?”

Visitors? Who needs to see me? “Yes, that’s fine. Who needs to see me?”

The flap to my tent is pushed aside and someone fills the entire doorway. “I need to see you, my Wife.”

“Johnathyn?!”

We quickly close on each other, grabbing, hugging and kissing as if we hadn’t seen each other in years instead of weeks. When you’re busy with other things, you don’t realize how much you miss your loved ones until you see them, touch them, embrace them. Then you can’t imagine how you lived without them.

It is decicycles before I come up for air. “Johnathyn, how did you get here?”

“I flew with Dierdra and Silva.”

“Are they both still here?”

“Yes.”

DAMN! I didn’t want to deal with Dierdra until this was all done. “Is Dierdra upset?”

“With you? Yes, I would say she is, at least a little.”

“Why are you all here?”

“General Packer sent a message by pigeon. He told us what had happened and that he was concerned about you. He suggested that Dierdra come and speak with you. Once I found out about the message, I demanded to come along. She eventually agreed but was not capable of flying both of us to this location. Silva joined us so that there would be enough magic available for all of us to travel safely. Trust me when I say that I greatly prefer traveling with you instead of these other women.”

“Too talky?”

“On the contrary. Everything is so secret that Dierdra must parse each and every word. There was very little conversation at all. I could have tolerated some Palace gossip, anything to relive the boredom of flying with those two witches.”

“Is Leeanna with you?”

“No, she remains in Glory.”

“How’d she get to Glory?”

“Dierdra flew to New Amsterdam herself to retrieve her. She was happy to return to Glory. There was so much she missed the first time. She is enjoying herself.”

It actually hurt me when he said that. Not that she was enjoying herself but that I wasn’t there to share it with her, with them, with my family. Another damn thing about this war.

“I’m sorry I can’t be there for both of you. With luck, we can wrap this up in a few more weeks. When it’s done, I promise you that I’ll …” He gently touches the side of my face.

“We both understand, Alexia. It is what you must do. She misses you terribly, as do I, but I am sure that the families of your men miss them also. We all want our loved ones to come home safe and well.”

“I-I-I tried, Johnathyn. I really did, but I couldn’t … I didn’t save them all. Lieutenant Grayson. So many others. So many widows.”

With Johnathyn holding me in his arms, I feel like I can finally let it all out. I’m safe and crying like I haven’t cried in months.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

“She takes too much upon herself, Mistress Denson.”

“She always has, General Packer. Alexia has never been one to delegate to others.”

“I am not referring to that, though it is true. I am saying that she wishes to accomplish the impossible and then worries when she fails.”

“For example?”

“She wishes for me to win this war but she refuses to accept the inevitable deaths that will result. She does not criticize my tactics and would proceed at a faster pace if she had her choice but she still fights like a madwoman to save every life possible, to the point of endangering her own life.”

“I read your report. That is why I am here today.” Among other reasons.

“You must convince her to return to Glory. My men and I will finish this war. We all appreciate what she has done, what she would be willing to do but her safety is of the greatest importance. The dead would not wish that their sacrifice to have been for nothing. The Queen must live to rule.”

“What about this illness you describe?”

“You can see for yourself but I do not believe it to be serious. She is well by the lunch hour most days. This only started a few days ago. Before that, her appetite was excellent. Her sleeplessness I ascribe to the horrors of war. She was compelled to kill many men in order to protect a squad of the Guard. Being herself, she had jumped into the middle of a battle and decided to rescue all the men still alive. She did so save for one man but at a terrible cost for the rebel side. They have been regrouping ever since and my reports indicate a rapid increase in the number of desertions from their ranks. My fear is that she will become accepting of such deaths. A Queen with a healthy respect for her Guard and a strong desire to protect them from wasteful fighting is a good thing for all of us but a Queen who revels in the death of others … well, that is Opulessa all over again, at least until she became bored with killing and became more inventive with her punishments. The longer Alexia remains at the front, the better the chance she will become accepting of death.”

“I believe you underestimate the basic goodness of the Queen. I have seen her under great stress but she has almost always done the right thing.”

“In war, the right thing is often killing as many men as you can. She has already demonstrated her capabilities in that area. I saw the scene with my own eyes. It was horrific. If I was on the other side, I would have deserted also.”

“Then you would appear to have nothing to be concerned about if she has sleepless nights over such events.”

“That is the present. The future could be different. I have known men, good men, who became enamored with the thrills and excitement of battle. They could not adjust to the slower pace of normal life. They did not begin that way but war changed them. I think that Alexia has learned many valuable lessons and she has also demonstrated many admirable qualities while at the front. There is no doubt that I have never seen such loyalty for the Queen in my men. These are all good things but I fail to see any future benefit in Alexia remaining here.”

“She could continue to be a Healer. There is none better in all the land.”

“Agreed. I have seen things nothing short of miracles but she would not restrict herself to just healing. There will always be a good reason for her to risk her life and so she will go. You must persuade her that the best interest of the country is for her to return to Glory immediately.”

“General, I have little sway over the Queen. You have spent time with her, you know how headstrong she can be but it is almost always because she believes she is right and that it if for the good of all. The only one who may be able to persuade her is Johnathyn Tyber.”

“Is that why you brought him?”

“Partially. He is also very headstrong.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

“But you gave them fair warning, Alexia.”

“They had no idea what was coming, Johnathyn.”

“You gave them a choice. Permit you and your men to leave or face death. You could not have been clearer.”

“I could have given a demonstration, a warning shot, something to prove I wasn’t kidding.”

“And how many would you have killed just to perform this demonstration? Would you feel less guilty about their deaths? I understand your anguish, Alexia. I often have dreams about the man I killed when you challenged Opulessa but I would do nothing different if faced with the same choice today. Would you leave those men to their fates if you could go back and choose again?”

“No! They would have all died!”

“Then the fates of all those men you killed were fixed when you first left this world months ago or even when Miran Pegues first brought you here under false pretenses. The war was unavoidable.”

“It was avoidable, Johnathyn. If certain people had done what was expected of them, we wouldn’t be here today.”

“Are you referring to Dierdra? To Beckwith? Other member of the Witches Counsel? I was there. They tried but failed. Who is to blame? Is that why you have not met with Dierdra since returning?”

“That’s as good a reason as any.”

“She is here now. A meeting is unavoidable.”

I sigh. “Like so many other things in my life. What are you going to do?”

“Now that I am here, I will stay.”

“Who will take care of Leeanna?”

“She is in good hands, for now. We must win this war and be done with it quickly. If I can help do that, I must stay and do so. It is what is best for us all.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

“What is taking them so long?”

“You must be jesting, General. They are a young couple in love.”

“Here?! Now?!”

“Wherever, whenever. The call of nature is strong and they have not been with each other for weeks.”

“But still? With us just outside within earshot? A person would have to be desperate.”

“Have you ever been in love, General?”

“Once, but it was many years ago.”

“You can still remember what it was like, can’t you?”

‘Yes, but I would never have done something like what you are suggesting.”

“Perhaps that is why you never married your love.”

“That is not the reason. She was killed.”

I should have known that before speaking out of turn. An apology is the best that I can do now. “I am sorry for making light of your loss, General. I did not know.”

“You are forgiven, Mistress Denson. Very few do know.”

“Does Alexia?”

“Yes. We have spent much time together and have become … close.”

Which explains much. The man is enamored with Alexia. He wants her gone to protect her or perhaps he is afraid of what he might do if she remains. Or what she might do to him should he forget himself and approach her. This complicates matters. While debating how to respond to Packer, the tent flap opens and both Johnathyn and Alexia emerge. From looking at them, I can tell that they have only been talking and very little else.

Their loss.

Alexia looks at me, raising one eyebrow.

“I’ll see you next, Dierdra. General, Johnathyn is staying with me.”

Packer is taken aback. “For how long?” he asks.

“Until the war is finished” Alexia replies.

“I’m afraid I cannot allow that, Alexia.”

“It’s not your decision, it’s mine and he’s staying.”

The General and the Queen fighting. More complications. “Perhaps we can come to some sort of compromise. Perhaps …”

“Stay out of this, Dierdra,” Alexia warns. “This is between the two of us. Why can’t Johnathyn stay, General? You better have a good reason.”

“I have three. The first is obvious and the least important. You have gone to great lengths to share the lot of the men, though some accommodations have been necessary. You have your own housing and, though you eat the same fare, it is better prepared. Should your husband join you, it would be a slap in the face of all the men who have left their families at home and not seen them for months. It is likely that most of the men would forgive this insult because you are a woman and the Queen but some might feel unjustly treated.”

“You could be right, General. What’s the second reason?”

“What are you going to do here, Mr. Tyber?”

“Fight, of course.”

“Have you training? How long have you been in the Queen’s Guard? What is your rank? Who is your commanding officer?”

“I get your point, General. Johnathyn’s not one of your men but we did pretty well on our own weeks ago.”

“You did. You both did. I have no doubt that many will write songs about your exploits and I will sing those songs but now is not the time for individual action. An army runs on discipline, on orders and men who follow those orders, on men who know exactly what they are to do and how to do it.”

“I am not a fool, General Packer. I can learn,” says Johnathyn through gritted teeth.

“No doubt you can but we do not have time to train people at the front. Training occurs back in Glory. Would you be willing to join the new recruits for weeks of training?”

Before Johnathyn can reply, Alexia interrupts. “Is all that really necessary, General?”

“It is because, without it, the other men cannot trust him, cannot rely on him. They may think he is a fine fellow and the luckiest man in the world to be married to you but he is not a soldier, which brings me to my third and most important reason.”

“Which is?”

“Not being trained, he is a danger to himself and those around him. What happens if he is injured or, Zaphod forbid, killed? What happens next, my Queen?”

Alexia stiffens, as if she has been insulted. “What do you mean, Packer?”

“Think. Your husband, the love of your life, the father of your only daughter, is dead at the hands of the rebels. What would you do about that? What is the first impulse that courses through your anguished heart?”

“To make them pay.”

“Exactly! To make them pay! To bring down holy vengeance upon their inhuman heads! To destroy them and all their families and their families and their families until not a rebel or his kin remain alive!”

“That’s a bit much, General,” says Alexia.

“No, not at all. Think of your first thoughts when you discovered the death of your mother and brother in that accident that was not an accident? What was that first thought?”

“That I’d find the bastards that did this and kill them.”

“Did you do it? Right at that very moment?”

“No! Of course not!”

“Because you could not do it. It was not within your powers to do so. The rage and anger eventually cooled and you devised a plan of vengeance that you are still attempting to accomplish today. First Minister Dupree is out there, waiting for you to call upon him.”

“What is your point, General?” I ask.

“Every man or woman would react the same way to the death of their loved ones. Rage, anger, and vengeance. However, most of the time, we cannot do what our anguished souls demand that we do. Alexia can. She is the most powerful witch in this world. If Johnathyn were to die on this battlefield, her instantaneous reaction would be so horrible to see, so totally destructive of everything we are attempting to accomplish, it would take decades for this world to recover, if ever. The toll of death would be uncountable.”

“Are you not being too dramatic, General Packer?”

“No, Dierdra. He’s not,” says Alexia. “He’s absolutely right. When my family was killed … I thought about doing a lot of things, terrible things. It took weeks for me to cool down. If Johnathyn were killed by the rebels, hell, if just by accident … it would be unbelievable. Nothing left standing or alive. Men, women, children, animals, bugs, you name it.” She turns to Johnathyn and takes his hand. “He’s right, you can’t stay here. Even if you just hung around the tent and did nothing, and we both know you’d refuse to be a house husband waiting for wifey to return from the wars, there’s still a chance you could get killed. The risk is too great. For you, for me, for this world. If you were killed, I’d blow this place up in an instant. I’d be out of control. Johnathyn, for all our sakes, go back to Glory and protect our daughter. I’ll be more careful here. We finish this once and for all, Dupree gets his and we all come home. I promise. I love you too much to lose you.”

“As do I also, Alexia.”

“I know that but you aren’t the Queen, I am. It’s my job not yours but I promise you that I will come home alive and well. I swear it.”

They kiss each other with such passion that it is embarrassing to watch, not that it is explicit but that it is so emotional. After just a few milicycles, they separate but linger, holding hands. Johnathyn finally releases her and walks away, head down. I glance at Packer to see his reaction but it is not one of triumph. He knows the absolute love that these two share and that whatever relationship he has with Alexia will only go so far and no farther.

Alexia lifts the flap of her tent with her left hand. “Come on Dierdra. Let’s talk.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

We’re sitting opposite each other at the table in my tent. I’ve both wanted and dreaded this conversation ever since I returned to this world. There’s so much to say and no good way to say it. She just sits there, making me start.

Fine.

“I was very angry when Pegues showed up to fetch me, Dierdra. After he told me what had happened since I left, I was pissed at you, pissed at Beckwith and pissed at myself. It could have worked. There were problems with the plan, I’ll admit that. Packer was right about a lot of things but, despite that, it still could have succeeded if you guys had stuck together.”

She raises her hands expansively. “So all of this is our fault?”

“Not all, but a lot. What’s my fault is expecting you thirteen to work together. I’d hoped that our success with Opulessa would have convinced all of you that there was great power in cooperation but I chose to ignore history. Other than that one time, none of you had any experience working as a team. Your entire lives had been spent as isolated centers of power, being the big fish in relatively small ponds. It was the only safe way to live. I changed all that but it was too fast, too sudden. No one had a chance to adapt. As soon as my 400 stone gorilla left the stage, everyone reverted back to what they knew, what they were comfortable with.”

“Not all.”

“No, Beckwith caught on faster than anyone else, apparently including you. Thankfully, getting a bunch of witches to agree on something is like herding cats.”

“Cats?”

“Right. No dogs, no cats. What do you give your kids as pets? Then it’s like herding chickens in an open field. None of you were so much more powerful than the others that she could dominate so the only way to organize is the power of persuasion and that wasn’t enough.”

“What you say is not exactly true, Alexia. We did accomplish several things.”

“But not enough. In order to keep people from complaining, you had to be much better than the alternative, which was the old way. Just as the coven was comfortable with the old ways, so were the people. They didn’t want Opulessa back, they just wanted a better Queen. Same play, better actors. They wanted Rodgers and Hammerstein and we gave them Sondheim.”

I could see the frustration on Dierdra’s face. I make these great analogies and they zoom right by her. I sorta enjoy it at times but not now.

“As usual, you speak in riddles but somehow your point is made. We could have done better. I could have done better but why not come to Glory when you first returned? I was waiting for you so that we could salvage something from our plans.”

“No offense, but I couldn’t have my name associated with such a failure.”

She’s even more frustrated. “But it was your plan, your failure!”

“Funny how that works out, isn’t it? I had to start fresh, to give the people what they wanted. They wanted a dominant Queen, someone who would come in and take charge, make everything work right again. I needed to build my reputation with some victories in the field. I also had to do something to let everyone know that I wasn’t fooling when I said join me or die.” I took a sip of tea. “I think that I was maddest about that. The coven’s mistakes made it necessary for me to come back and kill people.”

“Do not blame that on us, Alexia! I was willing to talk, to create other options. We could have thought of many other choices.”

“None that worked as well as this. I had to be the Queen the people expected to see, even more I had to be the Queen they didn’t know they wanted. If I was going to do that, it had to be my way, without either interference from or the help of the Witches Council. Admit it, you didn’t have any kind of control over the others. Beckwith did not want me back and wouldn’t have done squat to help unless I forced her to help and she had a few supporters among the coven, mostly witches she had brought in since I left.”

“You did not want my help but you turned to General Packer?”

“Despite it all, the people still mostly trusted the Queen’s Guard, particularly after the riff raff left to join up with assorted rogue Queens who were looking for experienced hired guns. It left the true believers like Packer in charge and he cleaned up their image. If he hadn’t supported you, the Government would have been overthrown before I got back to save it.”

“So this has all been a terrible trial for you? What about your Husband and Daughter?”

“That’s been the good part. I feel whole again. Whatever happens from here on out, it’s been worth it. I’m here to stay. You wanted the big bad Queen back and now you’ve got her. I’ve got my own plans for my world and as soon as we finish with Dupree, they go into effect.”

I glance over at the untouched remains of my breakfast still sitting at the far end of the table and quickly stifle my immediate compulsion to throw up.

Dierdra notices and immediately shifts into Healer mode. She just can’t help herself. “How long have you been feeling this way, Alexia?”

“It’s nothing! By midday it’ll have passed. It almost always does. I’m sure I just had a bad piece of meat or fish or I’ve got a bug of some kind.”

“What kind of bug? Where is this bug?”

“Not an insect, an infection of some kind, like the flu, actually I should be accurate, influenza or a common cold, maybe a bacteria in the water. Either way, it can’t be contagious because none of the men have it, just me.”

“Again I ask, how long have you ‘had it’?”

“It’s no big deal! If it was serious, it would have gotten worse. Today has been a good day so it’s probably worked its way through my system already.”

Dierdra glares at me. “Healers make the worst patients. How. Long.”

She’s not gonna let this go. “Only about five, maybe six days.”

“Any fever?”

“No, none.”

“Any other symptoms?”

“Nothing! I swear! It’s not even worth mentioning.”

“A terrible patient. Tell me.”

“I’m sure it’s just the armor. They don’t really design these for women you know.”

She simply stares at me with that unending, long-suffering maternal look.

“Fine! My breasts are a little tender. Happy?”

There’s a twitch in the corner of her mouth as her hard eyes soften. The twitch becomes a creeping smile that slowly slides to the other corner and erupts into a joyous smile. She pops up from her chair.

“No, the men would certainly not have this. Come stand before me, girl,” she demands.

Who the hell does she think she is? I’m just about to tell her to drop dead when she grabs my arm and pulls me up from my chair.

“What the HELL, Dierdra!”

“Be. Silent.”

She places her left hand lightly on my stomach, squats down and closes her eyes. I wait five milicycles before saying anything.

“Would you mind telling me exactly what you are …”

“Hush, child,” she softly reprimands me, turning her attention back to my stomach.

I don’t feel anything, other than foolish for letting this go on, so I decide to allow her to finish playing her game. It only lasts another thirty milicycles before she drops her hand and stands up, her face beaming.

“I suspected as much. You are with child, Alexia.”

“Come again?”

“You are pregnant. Five, maybe six weeks.”

That’s impossible. “How in the world can I be pregnant? I’m not even a real woman!”

“You are not? I have seen you unclothed. You are a real woman.”

“Yes, of course I am now! Like two months ago I was a man! How could I get pregnant in two months?”

“Like any other woman, I would imagine. You and Johnathyn have been …” Her voice trails off, the question unasked.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, we have.”

Five, maybe six weeks. I search my memory for where we were at that time. I’d only gotten back in the mood for marital sex about a week or so before then and we had been going at it hot and heavy. There was this little inn just outside a mountain town called Augstine. Looked like a picture post card. Had romantic weekend getaway written all over it.

They had a small infestation of rebel troops, a local strongman and a middle aged Thirty Six witch. They used the inn as their headquarters. Took us less than a day to put them on the run. The innkeeper was so happy, we got the bridal suite gratis, plus a great meal.

That night, Johnathyn had my back pinned to a wall, my legs tightly wrapped around his waist, my left arm around his neck and my right arm across his back, the nails of my right hand digging into his back as he relentlessly put the wood to me as I urged him on in an erotic fever. I had to have him that night, wanted it more than life itself and he responded with a bravura performance. He’d have gotten a standing ovation if I had been actually standing at the time.

I came four times and, somehow, he came twice, the last one seemed to reach me to the very core of my being. I blew it off as some kind of happy coincidence, mutual orgasm thing that, Zaphod willing, we’d figure out how we did it and repeat as often as possible.

When he finally dropped me on my back into bed, still firmly lodged inside my pulsing vagina as he lay on top of me, I distinctly remember saying. “Damn Johnathyn! Somebody wants to be a daddy again!” He just smiled and caressed my breast, sending more chills up my spine. “Perhaps. Some day. It would be nice to have a son.”

“What are you thinking of, Alexia?”

Dierdra’s question snaps me back to the present. My left hand was resting gently upon my breast, my pulse was pounding and my breathing a little rapid. “No. No, I couldn’t be pregnant,” I whisper with no conviction at all.

“See for yourself, child.”

There she goes with that child crap again. I’m afraid to look but I need to know, I’ve got to know. I close my eyes, concentrate, and slip inside my own body, cautiously, fearfully sliding down, down, down until I spot my enlarged womb, engorged with blood full of oxygen and nutrients. I warily peek inside.

There, clearer than any 3-D sonogram, is a healthy, thriving fetus. Two arms, two legs and, I swear, it looks at me. I slowly pull back until I return to my head and open my eyes to see Dierdra’s expectant face.

“It’s a boy,” I sigh.

CHAPTER FIFTY FIVE

“When will you tell Johnathyn?” Dierdra asks.

“Not until I am done here,” I answer, firmly.

“You are done now,” she says, more firmly. “You are with child! No woman with child should be anywhere near a battlefield!”

“Tell that to the pregnant women I’ve seen fleeing to our side of the lines when we near a town run by Dupree’s rebels. You should hear the stories they tell. They reduce my regret for what I had to do out there, particularly if you could guarantee I got one of the bastards who did that shit!”

“Yes! Yes, the fortunes of war. We are talking about you actually fighting alongside men. It is insane to even contemplate such things! You are with child, girl!”

“I know! I saw him! You think this is easy for me? We are on the verge of winning this war and if I walk away now, it may take months longer to win or we might even lose. Think how many more men will die if this drags on for months. How could I face the mothers, the wives of those dead men and say ‘Sorry about that, but I put the interest of my unborn child ahead of your child, your husband. My apologies to his children. Fortunes of war and all’?”

“It is a terrible choice, Alexia but no one would blame a mother for protecting her child. No mother could look you in the face and not understand your actions.”

“You know that I can take the necessary precautions, reduce my exposure to risks. I’ve been doing it all along while I was pregnant. The only difference now is that I know it.”

She shakes her head. “Utter madness. Johnathyn should also decide. It is his child too.”

I reach out and grab her arm. “Do not tell Johnathyn, Dierdra. I beg you!”

“Why should I not?”

“Because he will agree with you. He will ask me to leave these brave men to their fates and return to the temporary safety of Glory and I’ll do it. It’s the wrong thing but I’ll do it because he’ll ask me to do it. Johnathyn and I argue and fight like any couple but there are times when I simply cannot refuse him. This will be one of those times.”

“What if I were to tell General Packer?”

“He’s an old school traditionalist, he’s got trouble having me here when I’m not pregnant. He’d blow a gasket if he knew I was.”

“And this is a bad thing, to ‘blow a gasket’?”

“Very bad. Look, Dierdra, you can get what you want by telling Johnathyn and you might get it by telling Packer. I can make a Federal case out of it by ordering you, as your Queen, to remain silent upon pain of death.”

“You would not dare!”

“You’re right, I wouldn’t but we both have trump cards we can play that will destroy everything. Or you can just trust me. Your choice.”

She drops into the chair near her and looks off into space for more than a decicycle before turning to face me. “You have very little time before you will begin to show enough that any fool will know you are with child. A few weeks at most.”

“I understand.”

“I will not leave you until you return to Glory with me. Nothing you can say will make me leave. Nothing.”

“Got it.”

“And Silva will likewise stay.”

“How we going to explain that?”

“Simple. We are both Healers. We are here to provide additional care of the Guard in the final push to victory.”

“That actually makes sense. I should have thought of it myself. Wait a milicycle … who’s running the Government while you’re here?”

“Beckwith.”

“You are shitting me!”

Dierdra looks shocked. “I do not believe I am. Whatever that is.”

“Aren’t you afraid she might do something like attempt a takeover?”

“She knows that you have returned and that to even attempt such a thing would incur your wrath.”

It’s good to be feared. “Alright, I agree to your terms. Do we have a deal?” I offer her my hand. She just stares at it. “In my old world, if two people have reached an Agreement, they shake hands to confirm that agreement. It’s called a Handshake Deal. Very binding in certain circles.”

She tentatively reaches out, shaking my hand then pulls me into a hug. “Alexia,” she laughs. “You are going to be a mother!”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

I want to review the Fusiliers one more time before tomorrow’s battle. I want to impress upon them the importance of getting this right the first and likely only time. They are all waiting for me as I approach the training ground on my horse. After I dismount, they all salute me and I do the same. They are all large, strong men, capable of handling the RPG 7. A shorter, furtive man steps forward to address me.

“The men are ready for inspection, First Minister.”

He is Manfred Neighster, the man in charge of the RPG 7’s. Neighster was the go-between for the smuggler working for the Winthrop Group. He is the one who was trained by the smuggler on how to use and maintain the RPG 7. As unimpressive as he looks, he may be the most important man in this army right now. He falls back in line with the other men.

As I walk past the row of thirty men, dressed in red, each with a long tube over their shoulder, I look each one in the eye briefly before moving on to the next man. Once I reach the end of the row, I turn around and walk back to the middle of the row to face them.

“Men! Tomorrow will be the most important battle of this war and ten of you will play a vital role. You each know what to do. You are trained and ready to perform. If successful, your names will go down in history!”

Just then, Neighster coughs, drawing my attention. He catches my eye and subtly rubs the thumb of his left hand across the palm of that hand several times, reminding me of the realities of our situation. I return to my inspirational speech.

“In addition to the eternal gratitude of your country, each of you will be well rewarded should we kill or capture the evil witch Alexia tomorrow.”

Their smiles show I have struck a responsive chord. I wave Neighster forward. He quickly steps in front of me.

“Are you certain the weapons are ready?”

“Yes, First Minister. You see, the Rocket-Propelled Grenade Model 7 wasn’t originally designed for this sort of use but it is an easily modified weapon, capable of a number of things. In this case, you modify the fuse so that, instead of igniting upon impact, it goes off a certain number of milicycles after firing, filling the sky with shards of hot metal. Ten of the RPG 7’s have been so modified to explode at different heights. At least one or two, quite possibly more, will strike Alexia, either killing her outright or knocking her from the sky.”

“Neighster, I simply asked if the weapons are ready. I did not need a lecture.”

He has a reputation for being a bit full of himself and loves to hear the sound of his own voice. My admonishment draws another round of smiles from the men. Clearly, they have had their fill of him. His day in the sun will soon come to a close.

“I am sorry, First Minister. I thought you wanted complete information.”

“Only when I specifically ask for it. Neighster. I am a busy man with much to do. One last thing. Queen Tammy insists on stopping by and placing her ‘blessing’ upon the weapons. Make certain she does not harm them in any way. Understood?”

He salutes smartly. “Yes, First Minister.”

I return to my horse, swing up into the saddle and ride off, headed for my headquarters. Along the way, I pass Queen Tammy and her retinue of guards and servants riding the way I just came. I bow slightly in the saddle as I pass her before returning to my intended path. By this time tomorrow, we should know if the old woman will be a true Queen or just a pretender to the throne and if I will be at her side or on the run for my life.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

There is much activity around General Packer as Alexia and I walk towards him in the morning. He had sent a runner to her tent, requesting her presence. The message had said nothing about me, but as I am currently Alexia’s shadow, I came with her. The look on the General’s face at our arrival at the observation tower told me that he had intended otherwise. He bows slightly, first to Alexia, “Queen Alexia.” Then, somewhat less enthusiastically, he nods, “Mistress Denson.”

We are standing at the highest point along a low ridge of unforested hills, the plains before us is where the men have set up camp. The numerous burning fires explain the lack of trees. Past the tents, the plains continue to stretch for several hundred decileagues north until they encounter a vast forest of trees. There are several men standing on a raised platform on wheels at least ten decileagues in the air, scanning the horizon, watching for the movements of the enemy. It is clear why General Packer values the information that Alexia provides while she flies about on her dragon.

“What’s up, General?” Alexia inquires.

“We have a small skirmish occurring here.” He places a finger upon the map on the table before him. “And here.” He places a second finger on the map near the first. “They are actually not far from where we stand. If there was not so much activity in our camp, you could likely hear the gunfire.”

“What is the significance of that?” I ask.

“It is the first enemy attack since their last encounter with the Queen and Lilly. It would be best if we slap them down hard. A series of defeats are always a challenge to an army’s morale. I would prefer that Dupree not see another victory of any kind.”

“You don’t have to sell me on that, General,” says Alexia. Another runner comes in with a message for the General. Alexia pauses until he has read it and sends the runner on his way. “What do you need from me?”

“I thought that an appearance from Lilly would disturb the rebels enough that their lines would not hold and we could end this with minimal casualties. That is, if you are feeling up to it, my Queen.”

He is rubbing Alexia’s sore spots today. She is likely to agree to anything to reduce injuries to her Guard and Packer knows that all too well. I can see that she is not happy to bring Lilly back today, the memories from the last incident being fresh in her mind but she forces a smile.

“We talking about a guest appearance or a starring role, General?”

“I would think a guest appearance would be adequate, my Queen. With just a little flame for special effects.”

“Specific targets?”

“At your discretion, my Queen.”

I do not understand, this being some kind of code between the two of them but Alexia must like the answers because she relaxes. “Well then, saddle up and let’s go dancing. You have my radio?”

One of the men runs up, holding two devices in his hands. The General takes one and places something across the top of his head with a small branch sticking out in front of his mouth. This is connected to a larger device by a thin, flexible vine, the larger device being held to the waist of his pants. Alexia does the same with the device handed to her but places the larger device in the pocket of her dress.

“Are they fully charged?” she asks.

“Yes. There has been much sun the last few days so all the batteries are fully charged, thanks to the equipment you have provided.”

“Is this really necessary?” I ask. “We have discussed this, Alexia. You agreed to limit your exposure to danger. I would think that you should only become involved if absolutely necessary. I am not a military expert, but this seems to be a minor matter.”

My statement clearly angers General Packer.

“Mistress Denson, no fight is a minor matter to the men in that fight. Whether one or one thousand, the risk to the fighter is the same. There is no such thing as a minor death.”

He expects me to back off in the face of this emotional argument. He does not know me. “A stirring argument, General. Yet, I do not see you pouring all the resources available to you into what you yourself called just milicycles ago a ‘small skirmish.’ If there are no minor deaths, why are you not sending every available man into the breach?”

He eyes me warily. “Why are you even here, Mistress Denson? I do not recall inviting you to this counsel.”

“I am here to protect the health of the Queen, General.”

His façade of aloof manliness instantly disappears. “Are you unwell, Alexia? I would never ask you to do anything if you are not capable of …”

Alexia waves him off. “I’m fine, General. I’m as fit today as I’ve been the last five weeks.”

The General appears relieved but both Alexia and I realize how sharp her answer was.

“Alexia, you do not need to prove anything to these men. They have sworn loyalty to you.”

“Dierdra, I need to know if I can still do this. There may come a time where I’m the last line of defense. That’s a bad time to be testing the nerves. Better to take things one small step at a time.” She reaches down to the device in her pocket and then adjusts the thing on her head. “Check. Check. Can you read me, General?”

“Loud and clear, Alexia.”

Without warning of any kind, an enormous glistening black dragon appears out of the air before me. I stagger backwards several steps in surprise and shock but the Guard acts as if it is an everyday occurrence. Alexia hops forward, landing lightly on the creature’s back. It turns its huge head back towards me, gives me a frightening, sharp-toothed smile, winks and then quickly flies off with a rush of wind from its slowly flapping wings, circling the encampment and climbing higher in the sky.

It takes one’s breath away!

The General gives me a bemused look. “You had never seen Lilly before today, had you?”

I had recovered my wits enough to reply. “No. I had read eyewitness reports but … words do not do it justice.”

“It is a she. Alexia is quite emphatic about that, though as there are no male dragons about, it seems her sex matters little. That is probably for the best. A pregnant battle dragon would be of little value.”

Now it is my turn to offer the General a bemused look. He notices but says nothing.

I turn my attention to the dragon which has finished rising higher in the sky and is now flying north towards the two small skirmishes.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

So far, everything feels normal and familiar. I think Lilly is aware of my lack of enthusiasm this morning and is taking her own sweet time to get to cruising altitude. I lean forward and pat her on the side of her black scaly neck.

“Time to go to work, my pet.”

The radio squawks. “Did you say something, Alexia?”

“No, General. I’ll call when I reach the scene.”

If you ignore what’s going on below you, this is almost peaceful. It’s a bright blue, beautiful morning, the air cool and crisp up here, the view to the horizon spectacular.

Pregnant.

I am pregnant.

I still can’t grasp it, like it’s someone else’s body instead of mine.

What does this world use as birth control? No one said squat to me about birth control. That’s the first thing that comes across from the other side when trade relations get reestablished, about a million gross of condoms.

When you think about it, this world isn’t exactly overpopulated. There’s more forest than farmland by a long shot and none of the towns seem crowded, except for Glory and that’s only in comparison to every other place. I haven’t seen any true slums. Sure, there are good and bad parts of almost any town of significant size but the bad part isn’t that bad and the good part isn’t that good. I mean, not a flush toilet anywhere. That’s import number two.

Number three will be disposable diapers.

Pregnant. I’m gonna be a mommy. A breast feeding mommy. I can’t have saggy breasts! I’m not even twenty three! How can anyone be a parent at my age? I don’t know shit about raising a child! A son. Johnathyn will fucking freak out! What about Leeanna? Will she even want a baby brother? God, this is so complicated!

A bullet goes whizzing by my head, bringing my attention back to the problem at hand. Lilly has been on cruise control but we’ve reached the target so I better start paying attention.

“Big Black reporting in General. We’ve reached the outskirts of the first fight. Over.”

“Excellent! We can still see you from the observation hill. Over.”

I look back but can’t make out any details. Guess it’s easier for them to see me than for me to see them.

“Hope we don’t have to put on a show for you. I’m making a pass running down the line of fire. Give everybody a good look at me.”

I glide over the heads of the rebels, just behind the lines, letting them imagine what it was like for their fellows to retreat right into Lilly’s free fire zone. Of course, I don’t need my imagination.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

The corporal points up as the Queen passes overhead.

“There she is! There she is! I tain’t never seen her before, not up close at least. You was there Sergeant Timbler, weren’t you? I heard you and your boys saw it all.”

I pull the young fool down behind some cover just in time. They added some new men to the 12th Squad, what with our losses and all. There were lots of volunteers. We were famous after all. I’d rather they found some smarter, older soldiers who knew what in Zaphod’s name they were doing.

“Aye, we did. Hope to never see it again. Not that I wouldn’t be thankful if we were in the same trouble as before but that’s a once in a lifetime thing.”

I hope.

“She’s a tough one, ain’t she, Sergeant? Just up and killed all them rebels without a blink or a snort. Gotta be the toughest, meanest Queen ever.”

I look the boy straight in the eyes. “Son, I’d rather dangle my dingle in front of a pack of ravenous wolves before I’d cross that woman.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Somehow, Alexia is speaking with General Packer with the help of those devices. I can barely hear what Alexia is saying to the General but it is clearly in response to what he is saying to her. The General notices my concentration on the device in his waistband.

“Curious, are you Mistress Denson?”

“One cannot but help be curious. What are they?”

“They are something called a two way radio. It is tek-nal-ogee from the Queen’s old world. They have a range of about ten leagues on a good day. They are powered by several things called ‘batteries’ which absorb the power of the sun using the device she calls the ‘solar charger.’ It also powers her kom-pew-ter. These radios make managing the battle so much easier. I would take a thousand of them if I could.”

“I would like to listen to her words also.”

“Your presence here is a curiosity, Mistress Denson. Is there something I should know that I do not?”

I would tell him in an instant if Alexia and I had not reached an agreement. However, if she takes too many risks, I will consider that agreement to be negated by her actions. For now, I will follow it.

“There is nothing you need to know for the present, General Packer. Can I also hear her words?”

He looks at me with suspicion but has no evidence. “Yes. I simply unplug the headset.” He removes the vine from the larger device on his belt, then places the device in his hand. “Press this button when I speak and you can hear when Alexia speaks. Simple to operate.”

I edge closer so that I can hear better.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Looks like the rebel lines are breaking up. All it took was for me to show up. Guess the memories are still fresh for all of us.

“Big Black reporting General. Over”

“What do you see, Alexia? Over.”

“Looks like both rebel groups are on the run. The first group is heading west and the other east. Over.”

“How many men, Alexia? Over.”

“I’d say about three squads in both groups, a total of six. Are the Guard ordered to pursue? Over.”

“Yes, but just to make certain that Dupree knows that we are serious about defending against hit and run tactics. Are the Guard maintaining contact?”

“Most of them. One squad seems a little slow. Over.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

“What’s the hold up, Sergeant Timbler? Our orders are to follow the rebels and keep the fight going.”

Got ourselves a new lieutenant too. A bit green and hard charging for my taste. Lieutenant Grayson was a smart soldier. He’d follow orders but do it his way. The officers at the top don’t know what is really happening out here on the front. Sometimes, you just have to listen to what the fight is telling you.

“Begging your pardon, Lieutenant Burrows, but don’t you think those rebels gave up a little too easy? I mean, one milicycle they’re all there, making a big noise and the next milicycle, they’re all gone. No one blew retreat, no one covered the withdrawal, no stragglers. It was like they were all waiting for a sign of some kind to run for it.”

“Your point, Sergeant Timbler?” he asks, frustrated at my lack of action.

“My point is, Lieutenant, is that they want us to follow them. We’re being drawn away from something. That other group retreats the exact other way. Now we got a big hole in our lines. For some reason, they don’t want us here. I’d say we just hang around a bit, see what happens.”

“Sergeant Timbler, I know what this squad has been through. You men are all heroes. I can also understand why you aren’t exactly demanding to be back in the fight but we cannot let Squads 7 and 9 get all the fame. I’ll scout ahead and you get the men organized to chase these damn rebels to the ground. Do you understand?”

“Aye, Sir. I do.”

“Good man! I’ll return in no more than fifteen decicycles.” He hurries off into the woods.

“Where’s he going?” asks the new Corporal.

“Out looking for fame,” I answer.

“He can keep it if he finds it. I’ll keep my skin if it’s all the same.”

I slap him on the back. “You’re my kind of soldier, lad.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

I’m just about ready to return to headquarters, thankful for the easy day, when I hear gunfire straight ahead of me. Sounds like a third firefight. I toggle the switch on my headset.

“Big Black reporting. Over”

“What is it, Alexia? Over.”

“Do we have any more men in this area? Over.”

“Not that I know of though it is certainly possible. Over.”

“There’s a big fight just north of me. If it’s the Guard, they could be in trouble. It might be one of our squads that circled back behind the retreating rebels, trying to cut them off. I’m going to check it out. Over.”

“NO Alexia! Come back! You have done enough for one day!”

That’s not Packer, that’s Dierdra. What is she doing on the radio?

“General, what was that?”

“Nothing. Just your sister witch expressing her opinion. If you think it is important, proceed but do so with care. Over.”

“Will do. Over and out.”

Lilly shoots forward, keeping us high in the air, out of range of most gunfire. We pop up over a small ridge and find ourselves above a rocky arena of some kind. Closed on three sides by hills but open on the west side. The sides have some clumps of trees here and there but it’s mostly rocks and dry rivulets cut into the hillside. The plain below the hills and in front of the open end also has few trees and mostly boulders of assorted sizes, likely rolled down from the hillside. That’s where the fight is taking place.

There don’t appear to be any formal battle lines, it’s just a big mish mash of men shooting at each other, looking like swarms of red and black ants, with the red outnumbering the black. I drop down about a hundred decileagues to get a better look. I see one man run from his cover to reach a comrade but he drops after taking a few steps. Now that he’s out in the open, I can see he’s wearing a Guard uniform. I drop down a little further and start drawing fire, though it’s nothing I can’t easily handle. Now I can see that the large majority of men sprawled on the ground are Guard. They are getting killed down there!

“General! This is Big Black! It’s Guard all right and they’re getting slaughtered! I’ve got to go down and give them back up! If I’m lucky, just a little fireworks will do the job. Get some troops headed this way, pronto. Over.”

There’s a mixture of two voices on the air, Dierdra and Packer. I can just see them fighting over the radio. Doesn’t really matter. I know what I need to do. Again.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

“By Zaphod’s great staff, it’s working!” Tasher hisses through clenched teeth.

“Not yet, General. She is too high. We have two RPGs fused to explode at that height but we need more. She needs to drop down another forty decileages or more to put her in the middle of the swarm of RPGs. When I fire this aerial shell, it will shoot high in the air and explode. That is the signal for all the men to clear the plain and for the Fusiliers to fire.”

“How long do the men have to clear the plain, Dupree?”

“Just ten milicycles, less if Alexia tries to escape. The Fusiliers are to fire if she attempts to fly out of the trap, regardless if the men are clear or not.”

“They do not know that, do they?”

“Of course not! Who would volunteer for such duty?”

I peer out from my hidden spot, covered by canvas painted to look like dirt with some small pieces of brush glued to it. The ten Fusiliers are similarly hidden with an additional man for each of them to act as a spotter.

“Just a few more decileagues,” I mutter to myself.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

“She should not be out there at all!” Denson screeches.

“Be calm, woman! Alexia knows what she is doing! The Queen has been in much more dangerous situations in the past.”

I knew that having this non-military witch with me would be a problem. I allowed it for Alexia’s sake. When I asked for help from her, it was not a surprise that she came herself. I was surprised that she brought the Queen’s husband with her. I had expected her to quickly return to her duties in Glory once the Queen had recovered from the trauma of that last battle, but, for some reason, she has stayed to become a thorn in my side.

“What is she doing now?! I can no longer see her!”

“Please, Mistress Denson! Calm yourself! Alexia is simply going down to get a better look. She is more than powerful enough to keep both Lilly and her protection against gun fire active. There is no threat to her.”

Denson glared at me, the anger clear on her face. What had I said? Did she not know what Alexia has been doing these many weeks? She is safer now than when she and her husband had been challenging these brigands by themselves. THAT was reckless behavior!

My radio beeps, indicating an incoming report from Alexia.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

“General, there are downed Guardsmen all over the place! I can’t tell who’s hurt and who’s dead but there’s not a lot of movement out there. I’m going to give them a taste of fire and see if I can get the rebels to break off contact. Over.”

The men are so mixed together, I can’t risk shooting at any individual. I’ll have to settle for a warning shot of some kind. There seems to be a concentration of rebel soldiers off to my left. I can fire over their heads into the hillside. That ought to shake them up a bit.

“Hit ‘em Lilly but take it easy.”

She gives just a brief snort of flame, only about four milicycles worth, but the hillside bursts into flame. That shouldn’t have happened, it was just dirt and a few sticks. Two men come scrambling out of the flames, one carrying a long tube with a bulbous head.

Oh CRAP!